tailieunhanh - The Red Hawk

THE JANUARY sun beat hotly upon me as I reined Red Lightning in at the summit of a barren hill and looked down toward the rich land of plenty that stretched away below me as far as the eye could see. In that direction was the mighty sea, a day's ride, perhaps, to the westward-the sea that none of us had ever looked upon; the sea that had become as fabulous as a legend of the ancients during the nearly four hundred years since the Moon men swept down upon us and overwhelmed the earth in their mad and bloody carnival of revolution | feedboo is The Red Hawk Burroughs Edgar Rice Published 1925 Categorie s Fiction Science Fiction Short Stories Source http 1 About Burroughs Edgar Rice Burroughs September 1 1875 - March 19 1950 was an American author best known for his creation of the jungle hero Tarzan although he also produced works in many genres. Source Wikipedia Also available on Feedbooks for Burroughs Tarzan of the Apes 1912 A Princess of Mars 1912 John Carter and the Giant of Mars 1940 The Gods of Mars 1918 A Fighting Man of Mars 1930 The Master Mind of Mars 1927 Swords of Mars 1934 The Warlord of Mars 1918 The Chessmen of Mars 1922 Thuvia Maid of Mars 1920 Copyright This work is available for countries where copyright is Life 50 Note This book is brought to you by Feedbooks http Strictly for personal use do not use this file for commercial purposes. 2 Chapter 1 THE FLAG THE JANUARY sun beat hotly upon me as I reined Red Lightning in at the summit of a barren hill and looked down toward the rich land of plenty that stretched away below me as far as the eye could see. In that direction was the mighty sea a day s ride perhaps to the westward-the sea that none of us had ever looked upon the sea that had become as fabulous as a legend of the ancients during the nearly four hundred years since the Moon men swept down upon us and overwhelmed the earth in their mad and bloody carnival of revolution. In the near distance the green of the orange groves mocked us from below and great patches that were groves of leafless nut trees and there were sandy patches toward the south that were vineyards waiting for the hot suns of April and May before they too broke into riotous tantalizing green. And from this garden spot of plenty a curling trail wound up the mountainside to the very level where we sat gazing down upon this last stronghold of our foes. When the ancients built that trail it must have been wide and beautiful indeed but in the centuries that elapsed man and