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The most dangerous game pdf

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Full Text Most Dangerous Game with Side Bar homeranking.info Download Full Text Most Dangerous Game with Side Bar homeranking.info ( MB). Locale: en. Who cares about how the animals feel? Rainsford laughed. The Most Dangerous Game abridged. By Richard Connell. “This weather is terrible,” Rainsford said. Option #1: ESSAY. Choose ONE of the following topics and write a 5 paragraph essay. 1. You are free-lance writer for the hunting magazine Outdoor Life.


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The Most Dangerous Game. By Richard Connell. "OFF THERE to the right-- somewhere--is a large island," said Whitney." It's rather a mystery--". "What island is it. The Most Dangerous Game by Richard Connell This book is available for free download in a number of formats - including epub, pdf, azw, mobi and more. The Most Dangerous Game. by Richard Connell () "OFF THERE to the right--somewhere--is a large island," said Whitney." It's rather a mystery--".

They're from the Spanish bark San Lucar that had the bad luck to go on the rocks out there. All he knew was that he was safe from his enemy, the sea, and that utter weariness was on him. I always got my quarry. Come to the window with me. Environmental Crisis and the Literary Imagination. I have about a dozen pupils down there now. I have hunted every kind of game in every land.

They do excessively stupid and obvious things. It's most annoying. Will you have another glass of Chablis, Mr. You've had no hunting--" "I wish to go today," said Rainsford. He saw the dead black eyes of the general on him, studying him. General Zaroff's face suddenly brightened.

He filled Rainsford's glass with venerable Chablis from a dusty bottle. But may I not venture to suggest that you will find my idea of sport more diverting than Ivan's? This is really an inspiration. I drink to a foeman worthy of my steel - at last. Your woodcraft against mine. Your strength and stamina against mine. Outdoor chess! And the stake is not without value, eh? Of course you, in turn, must agree to say nothing of your visit here. But why discuss that now?

Three days hence we can discuss it over a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, unless Then a businesslike air animated him. I suggest you wear moccasins; they leave a poorer trail. I suggest, too, that you avoid the big swamp in the southeast corner of the island.

We call it Death Swamp. There's quicksand there. One foolish fellow tried it. The deplorable part of it was that Lazarus followed him. You can imagine my feelings, Mr. I loved Lazarus; he was the finest hound in my pack. Well, I must beg you to excuse me now. I always' take a siesta after lunch. You'll hardly have time for a nap, I fear. You'll want to start, no doubt. I shall not follow till dusk. Hunting at night is so much more exciting than by day, don't you think?

Au revoir, Mr. Rainsford, au revoir. From another door came Ivan. Under one arm he carried khaki hunting clothes, a haversack of food, a leather sheath containing a long-bladed hunting knife; his right hand rested on a cocked revolver thrust in the crimson sash about his waist.

Rainsford had fought his way through the bush for two hours. I must keep my nerve," he said through tight teeth. He had not been entirely clearheaded when the chateau gates snapped shut behind him. His whole idea at first was to put distance between himself and General Zaroff; and, to this end, he had plunged along, spurred on by the sharp rowers of something very like panic. Now he had got a grip on himself, had stopped, and was taking stock of himself and the situation.

He saw that straight flight was futile; inevitably it would bring him face to face with the sea. He was in a picture with a frame of water, and his operations, clearly, must take place within that frame. He executed a series of intricate loops; he doubled on his trail again and again, recalling all the lore of the fox hunt, and all the dodges of the fox. Night found him leg-weary, with hands and face lashed by the branches, on a thickly wooded ridge.

He knew it would be insane to blunder on through the dark, even if he had the strength. His need for rest was imperative and he thought, "I have played the fox, now I must play the cat of the fable.

Rest brought him new confidence and almost a feeling of security. Even so zealous a hunter as General Zaroff could not trace him there, he told himself; only the devil himself could follow that complicated trail through the jungle after dark. But perhaps the general was a devil-- An apprehensive night crawled slowly by like a wounded snake and sleep did not visit Rainsford, although the silence of a dead world was on the jungle.

Toward morning when a dingy gray was varnishing the sky, the cry of some startled bird focused Rainsford's attention in that direction. Something was coming through the bush, coming slowly, carefully, coming by the same winding way Rainsford had come.

He flattened himself down on the limb and, through a screen of leaves almost as thick as tapestry, he watched. That which was approaching was a man. It was General Zaroff. He made his way along with his eyes fixed in utmost concentration on the ground before him.

He paused, almost beneath the tree, dropped to his knees and studied the ground. Rainsford's impulse was to hurl himself down like a panther, but he saw that the general's right hand held something metallic--a small automatic pistol. The hunter shook his head several times, as if he were puzzled. Then he straightened up and took from his case one of his black cigarettes; its pungent incenselike smoke floated up to Rainsford's nostrils.

Rainsford held his breath. The general's eyes had left the ground and were traveling inch by inch up the tree. Rainsford froze there, every muscle tensed for a spring.

But the sharp eyes of the hunter stopped before they reached the limb where Rainsford lay; a smile spread over his brown face. Very deliberately he blew a smoke ring into the air; then he turned his back on the tree and walked carelessly away, back along the trail he had come.

The swish of the underbrush against his hunting boots grew fainter and fainter. The pent-up air burst hotly from Rainsford's lungs. His first thought made him feel sick and numb. The general could follow a trail through the woods at night; he could follow an extremely difficult trail; he must have uncanny powers; only by the merest chance had the Cossack failed to see his quarry.

Rainsford's second thought was even more terrible. It sent a shudder of cold horror through his whole being. Why had the general smiled? Why had he turned back? Rainsford did not want to believe what his reason told him was true, but the truth was as evident as the sun that had by now pushed through the morning mists.

The general was playing with him! The general was saving him for another day's sport! The Cossack was the cat; he was the mouse. Then it was that Rainsford knew the full meaning of terror.

I will not. His face was set and he forced the machinery of his mind to function. Three hundred yards from his hiding place he stopped where a huge dead tree leaned precariously on a smaller, living one. Throwing off his sack of food, Rainsford took his knife from its sheath and began to work with all his energy.

The job was finished at last, and he threw himself down behind a fallen log a hundred feet away. He did not have to wait long. The cat was coming again to play with the mouse. Following the trail with the sureness of a bloodhound came General Zaroff.

Nothing escaped those searching black eyes, no crushed blade of grass, no bent twig, no mark, no matter how faint, in the moss. So intent was the Cossack on his stalking that he was upon the thing Rainsford had made before he saw it. His foot touched the protruding bough that was the trigger. Even as he touched it, the general sensed his danger and leaped back with the agility of an ape.

But he was not quite quick enough; the dead tree, delicately adjusted to rest on the cut living one, crashed down and struck the general a glancing blow on the shoulder as it fell; but for his alertness, he must have been smashed beneath it. He staggered, but he did not fall; nor did he drop his revolver.

He stood there, rubbing his injured shoulder, and Rainsford, with fear again gripping his heart, heard the general's mocking laugh ring through the jungle. Not many men know how to make a Malay mancatcher. Luckily for me I, too, have hunted in Malacca. You are proving interesting, Mr. I am going now to have my wound dressed; it's only a slight one. But I shall be back. I shall be back. It was flight now, a desperate, hopeless flight, that carried him on for some hours. Dusk came, then darkness, and still he pressed on.

The ground grew softer under his moccasins; the vegetation grew ranker, denser; insects bit him savagely. Then, as he stepped forward, his foot sank into the ooze. He tried to wrench it back, but the muck sucked viciously at his foot as if it were a giant leech. With a violent effort, he tore his feet loose. He knew where he was now. Death Swamp and its quicksand.

His hands were tight closed as if his nerve were something tangible that someone in the darkness was trying to tear from his grip. The softness of the earth had given him an idea. He stepped back from the quicksand a dozen feet or so and, like some huge prehistoric beaver, he began to dig.

Rainsford had dug himself in in France when a second's delay meant death. That had been a placid pastime compared to his digging now. The pit grew deeper; when it was above his shoulders, he climbed out and from some hard saplings cut stakes and sharpened them to a fine point.

These stakes he planted in the bottom of the pit with the points sticking up. With flying fingers he wove a rough carpet of weeds and branches and with it he covered the mouth of the pit.

Then, wet with sweat and aching with tiredness, he crouched behind the stump of a lightning-charred tree. He knew his pursuer was coming; he heard the padding sound of feet on the soft earth, and the night breeze brought him the perfume of the general's cigarette. It seemed to Rainsford that the general was coming with unusual swiftness; he was not feeling his way along, foot by foot.

Rainsford, crouching there, could not see the general, nor could he see the pit. He lived a year in a minute. Then he felt an impulse to cry aloud with joy, for he heard the sharp crackle of the breaking branches as the cover of the pit gave way; he heard the sharp scream of pain as the pointed stakes found their mark. He leaped up from his place of concealment. Then he cowered back. Three feet from the pit a man was standing, with an electric torch in his hand. Again you score. I think, Mr.

Rainsford, Ill see what you can do against my whole pack.

Pdf dangerous the most game

I'm going home for a rest now. Thank you for a most amusing evening. It was a distant sound, faint and wavering, but he knew it. It was the baying of a pack of hounds.

Most dangerous game pdf the

Rainsford knew he could do one of two things. He could stay where he was and wait. That was suicide. He could flee. That was postponing the inevitable. For a moment he stood there, thinking. An idea that held a wild chance came to him, and, tightening his belt, he headed away from the swamp. The baying of the hounds drew nearer, then still nearer, nearer, ever nearer. On a ridge Rainsford climbed a tree. Down a watercourse, not a quarter of a mile away, he could see the bush moving.

Straining his eyes, he saw the lean figure of General Zaroff; just ahead of him Rainsford made out another figure whose wide shoulders surged through the tall jungle weeds; it was the giant Ivan, and he seemed pulled forward by some unseen force; Rainsford knew that Ivan must be holding the pack in leash. They would be on him any minute now. His mind worked frantically. He thought of a native trick he had learned in Uganda.

He slid down the tree. He caught hold of a springy young sapling and to it he fastened his hunting knife, with the blade pointing down the trail; with a bit of wild grapevine he tied back the sapling. Then he ran for his life. The hounds raised their voices as they hit the fresh scent. Rainsford knew now how an animal at bay feels.

He had to stop to get his breath. The baying of the hounds stopped abruptly, and Rainsford's heart stopped too. Rainsford asks what happens if he wins, Zaroff assures him that he can leave the island , but on the condition that he never tells anyone about his experiences there.

Rainsford refuses He leaves to take a nap before pursuing Rainsford at dusk. Hunting is Cite This Page. MLA Chicago. McLendon, Kelsey. The Island. Retrieved April 14, Copy to Clipboard.

Download this Chart PDF. They're like having in-class notes for every discussion! Get the Teacher Edition. My students love how organized the handouts are and enjoy tracking the themes as a class.

Which guides should we add? Request one! The general chuckled. They canReading Check crush a ship as easily as I crush this nut. We try to be civilized here. And you shoot down men? Indian and East Indian sailors, employed on European ships. I assure you I do not do the thing you suggest. That would be barbarous.

I treat these visitors with every consideration. They get plenty of good food and exercise.

Dangerous the pdf most game

They get into splendid physical condition. You shall see for yourself tomorrow. I have about a dozen pupils down there now. A very inferior lot, I regret to say. Poor specimens and more accustomed to the deck than to the jungle.

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Rainsford, with an effort, held his tongue in check. I give him a supply of food and an excellent hunting knife. I am to follow, armed only with a pistol Literary Analysis of the smallest caliber and range.

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If he does not wish to hunt, I turn him over to Ivan. Ivan once had the honor of serving as official knouter11 to the Great White Czar, and he has his own ideas of sport. Invariably, Mr. Rainsford, invariably they choose the hunt. Then he added, hastily: Many of them afford only the most Reading Check elementary sort of problem.

Occasionally I strike a tartar. I eventually had to use the dogs. TAKE NOTES grotesque patterns on the courtyard below, and Rainsford could see moving about there a dozen or so huge black shapes; as they turned toward him, their eyes glittered greenly.

Explain how you song from the Folies Berg ere. Will you come with me to the library? Rainsford; I hope youin the story?

The symbol of The Island in The Most Dangerous Game from LitCharts | The creators of SparkNotes

He lay, eyes wide open. Once he thought he heard stealthy steps in the corridor outside his room. He sought to throw open the door; it would not open. He went to the window and looked out. His room was high up in one of the towers. Is it internal, in the pattern of shadow, were black, noiseless forms;external, or both?

Rainsford went back to the bed and lay down. By many methods he tried to put himself to sleep. He had achieved a doze when, just as morning began to come, he heard, far off in the jungle, the faint report of a pistol.

General Zaroff did not appear until luncheon. I am worried, Mr. Last night I detected traces of Literary Analysis my old complaint. How general explained: He made a straight trail that about leaving make his internal offered no problems at all. They do excessively stupid and obvious things. Will you have another glass of Chablis, Mr.

General plans to hunt him. This is really an inspiration. I drink to a foeman worthy of my steel—at last. Your woodcraft against mine. Your strength and stamina against mine. Outdoor chess! And the stake is not without value, eh? Of courseWhat can you infer happened to you, in turn, must agree to say nothing of your visit here.

Then a businesslike air animated him. I suggest you wear moccasins; they leave a poorer trail. I suggest too that you avoid the big swamp in theRainsford advice even though southeast corner of the island.

We call it Death Swamp. One foolish fellow tried it. Thekill him? You can imagine my feelings, Mr. I loved Lazarus; he was the finest hound in my pack. Well, I must beg you to excuse me now. I always take a siesta after lunch.

I shall not follow till dusk. Au revoir,14 Mr. Rainsford, au revoir. Under one arm hewhat inference do you make? Rainsford had fought his way through the bush for two hours. He had not been entirely clear-headed when theReading Check chateau gates snapped shut behind him.

Zaroff says he will announce his His whole idea at first was to put distance betweendefeat if Rainsford can last a himself and General Zaroff, and, to this end, he hadcertain number of days.

Now he had got a grip onthe number of days. He was in a picture with a frame of water, and his operations, clearly, must take place within that frame. He executed a series of intricate loops; he doubled on his trail again and again, Rainsford experience in the recalling all the lore of the fox hunt, and all the dodges bracketed passage? Night found him leg-weary, with his hands and face lashed by the branches, on a thickly wooded ridge.

He knew it would be insane to blunder on through the dark, even if he had the strength. His need for rest was imperative and he thought: What broad limbs, after a fashion, rested. Rest brought him new confidence and almost a feeling of security. Even so can you infer about Rainsford zealous a hunter as General Zaroff could not trace him from his assumption?

But, perhaps, the general was a devil— An apprehensive night crawled slowly by like a wounded snake, and sleep did not visit Rainsford, although the silence of a dead world was on the jungle. Something was coming through the bush, unable to fall asleep? He flattened himself down on the limb, and through a screen of leaves almost as thick as tapestry, he watched. The thing that was approaching was a man. It was General Zaroff. He made his way along with his eyes fixed in utmost concentration on the ground before him.

He paused, almost beneath the tree, dropped to Reading Check his knees and studied the ground. Reading Skill Rainsford held his breath. Which details suggest that Zaroff Rainsford froze there, every muscle tensed for a spring. But the sharp eyes of the hunter stopped before theyCircle the details in the reached the limb where Rainsford lay; a smile spreadbracketed passage that tell you. Very deliberately he blew a smoke ring into the air; then he turned his back on the tree and walked carelessly away, back along the trail he had come.

Histhe tree? The general could follow a trail through the woods at night; he could follow an extremely difficult trail; he must have uncanny powers; only by the merest chance had the Cossack failed to see his quarry. It sent a shudder of cold horror through his whole being.

Why had the general smiled? Why had he turned back? Rainsford did not want to believe what his reason told him was true, but the truth was as evident as the sun that hadLiterary Analysis by now pushed through the morning mists.

The general was saving him for anotherlose my nerve. I will not. The Cossack was the cat; he was the mouse. His face was set and he forced the machinery of his mind to function. Three hundred yards from his hiding place he stopped where a huge dead tree leaned precariously on a smaller, living one. Throwing off his sack of food, Rainsford took his knife from its sheath and began to work with all his energy. The job was finished at last, and he threw himself down behind a fallen log a hundred feet away.

He did not have to wait long. The cat was coming again to play with the mouse. Following the trail with the sureness of a bloodhound, came General Zaroff. Nothing escaped those searching black eyes, no crushed blade of grass, no bent twig, no mark, no matter how faint, in the moss. So intent was the Cossack on his stalking that he was upon the thing Rainsford had made before he saw it. He Why do you think Zaroff staggered, but he did not fall; nor did he drop his revolver.

Not many men know how to make a Malay mancatcher. Luckily, for me, I too have hunted in Malacca. You are proving interesting, Mr. But I shall be back. I shall be back. Dusk came, then darkness, and still he pressed on. The ground grew softer under his moccasins; the vegetation grew ranker, denser; insects bit him savagely.

Then, as he stepped forward, his foot sank into the ooze. He tried to wrench it back, but the muck sucked viciously at his foot as if it were a giant leech.

With a violent effort, he tore his foot loose. He knew where he was now. Death Swamp and its quicksand. His hands were tight closed as if his nerve were something tangible that someone in the darkness was Reading Check trying to tear from his grip. The softness of the earth had given him an idea. He stepped back from the quicksand a Where does Rainsford go after dozen feet or so, and, like some huge prehistoric beaver, he wounds the general?

Underline the name of the place. That had been a placid pastime compared to his digging now. The pit grew deeper; when it was above his shoulders, he climbed out and from some hard saplings cut stakes and sharpened them to a fine point. These stakes he planted in the bottom of the pit with the points sticking up.

With flying fingers he wove a rough carpet of weeds and branches and with it he covered the mouth of the pit. Then, wet with sweat and aching with tiredness, he crouched behind the stump of a lightning-charred tree.

It seemed to Rainsford that the general was coming with unusual swiftness; he was not feeling his way along, footReading Skill by foot. Rainsford, crouching there, could not see theWhen Rainsford hears the sharp general, nor could he see the pit. He lived a year in ascream of pain from the Burmese minute.

Then he felt an impulse to cry aloud with joy, fortiger pit, what does he infer? He leaped up from his place of concealment. Then he cowered back. Three feet from the pit a man was standing, with an electric torch in his hand. Again you score. I think, Mr. Thank you for a most amusing evening.

It was a distant sound, faint and wavering, but he knew it. It was the baying of aLiterary Analysis pack of hounds. He couldchase. What additional external stay where he was and wait.

That was suicide. That was postponing the inevitable. For a momentface? An idea that held a wild chance came to him, and, tightening his belt, he headed away from the swamp.