How slowly it appeared to move, What a sluggish stream!He closed his eyes in order to fix his last thoughts upon his wife and children.
getting ready for another advance. his ear like the thrust of a knife; he feared he would shriek. He felt the heat of the bullet on his back.When his head came out of the water for air, he saw that he was farther away from the soldiers.
No; I will not be shot; that is not fair.
They have reached the Owl Creek bridge, put it in order and built a stockade on the north bank. noose about his neck was already suffocating him and kept the water
ears like the voice of Niagara, yet he heard the dull thunder of the
lost to view. He wondered what it was, and whether immeasurably distant or near by--it seemed both. His neck ached horribly; his brain was on fire; his heart, which had been fluttering faintly, gave a great leap, trying to force itself out at his mouth. The sound
That opportunity, he felt, would come, as it comes to all in war time. As he pushes open the gate and passes
"Silence as Literary Device in Ambrose Bierce's 'The Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.' Being a slave owner and like other slave owners a politician he was naturally an original secessionist and ardently devoted to the Southern cause. abrasion of one of his hands on the gravel, restored him, and he wept
His head came out of the water. He wondered what it was, and whether immeasurably distant or near by—
from side to side beneath the timbers of the Owl Creek bridge.
No fields
and his executioners—two private soldiers of the Federal army,
How softly the turf had carpeted the untraveled avenue--he could no longer feel the roadway beneath his feet!Doubtless, despite his suffering, he had fallen asleep while walking, for now he sees another scene--perhaps he has merely recovered from a delirium. It was written by Ambrose Bierce. What splendid effort!—what
audible music. The commandant has issued an order, which is posted everywhere, declaring that any civilian caught interfering with the railroad, its bridges, tunnels or trains will be summarily hanged. His features were good—a
The company faced the bridge, staring stonily, motionless. It is revealed that Farquhar never escaped at all; he imagined the entire third part of the story during the time between falling through the bridge and the noose breaking his neck. with an insupportable anguish!
He unclosed his eyes and saw again the water below him. dog suggested human habitation. The water, touched to gold by the early sun, the brooding mists under the banks at some distance down the stream, the fort, the soldiers, the piece of drift--all had distracted him. struggle his attention, as an idler might observe the feat of a
straight away into a forest for a hundred yards, then, curving, was
now dry and would burn like tinder." The power of
His neck ached horribly; his brain was on fire, his
of the stream racing madly beneath his feet. The man's hands were behind his back, the wrists bound with a cord. juggler, without interest in the outcome. At a
It was too much for his lungs.
Beyond one of the sentinels nobody was in sight; the railroad ran
Death is a
it forward from between his teeth into the cold air. As he rose to the surface, gasping for breath, he saw that he had been
An
'To be hanged and drowned,' he thought? that is not fair." The water, touched to gold by the early sun, the brooding
insects upon them: the locusts, the brilliant bodied flies, the gray
to an intolerable temperature. heard was the ticking of his watch. Something in the awful disturbance of his organic system had so exalted and refined them that they made record of things never before perceived. His brain was as energetic as his arms and legs; he thought with the rapidity of lightning. He thanked her ceremoniously, bowed to her husband and rode away. Striking through the thought of his dear ones was a sound which he could neither ignore nor understand, a sharp, distinct, metallic percussion like the stroke of a blacksmith's hammer upon the anvil; it had the same ringing quality. The sentinels, facing the banks of the stream, might have been statues to adorn the bridge. I would be, too…"While these thoughts raced through the prisoner's mind, the captain gave the soldiers the order to hang him. aside and each drew away the plank upon which he had been standing. Ready! "Then I could get the rope off my neck and jump into the river. observing the work of his subordinates, but making no sign. "I was there a month ago," he replied. A piece of dancing
Farquhar asked. rush of its body parting the water.
'An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge' by Ambrose Bierce is a famous short story set during the Civil War that utilizes the frame story technique. He was a civilian, if one might judge from
its deeps! All his senses had returned. He
I could swim under the water and escape the fire of their guns. 'I observed that the flood of last winter had lodged a great quantity of driftwood against the wooden pier at this end of the bridge. ones are still beyond the invader's farthest advance." Peyton Farquhar, a civilian and plantation owner, is being prepared for execution by In a flashback, Farquhar and his wife are relaxing at home one evening when a soldier rides up to the gate. As to his head, he was conscious of
The
It was attached to a stout cross-timber above his head and the slack fell to the level of his knees. significance. He wore a moustache and pointed
the stream—the southern bank—and behind a projecting point which
What he heard was the ticking of his watch.He unclosed his eyes and saw again the water below him. single embrasure through which protruded the muzzle of a brass cannon
uncomfortably warm and he snatched it out. noose at his neck.
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