Изумительные Хромолитографии!!!
Как скромный вклад, позволю себе небольшой сценарий - про участие Девушки на фронте. За точность не судите строго - Ваш Покорный всего-лишь охотник, не знаток военной истории, поэтому и стори - без эффектных батальных сцен. Не взыщите, перевод дам позже -если понадобится. Итак,
The Lady Rock.
“Greys were surrounded here – here and they hadn’t any way to retreat. They were chased as coyotes, as pests, and their fate was sealed but in spite of everything they opposed. Here was a bridge. It was ruined and our task was to restore it. You don’t see a bridge, it’s useless here now, but it was here. The opposite side of the canyon was controlled by cavalry, and mounted overrun rebels into the canyon. We were to dispatch them before the bridge is reconstructed.
“To neutralize the resistance resulted in occasional shoots we decided to use Gatling guns, which worked very efficiently, destroying all flesh at the opposite descent. But three or two shooters hindered us. We were to restore the bridge after all!
“The idea to use a long-range gun was bright! We had two 6-pounders with plenty of Canister shots! Imagine how it was funny to look as stones were burst into pieces! It was more vivid than Gatlings.
“But two, and later one shooters on the opposite side were still alive. One of them was firing a flintlock single-barrel. It was seen by flashes on the pan. We did not cease to fire canisters until he was silenced… His flintlock was silenced but him! Few minutes later another SHOTGUN opened fire. Why a SHOTGUN? Because of doublets and buckshot. There were wounded and seriously among us!
“It was decided to dispatch the last rebel. More than twelve canisters had been shot against the stone wall before he had been silenced. Don’t imagine it was so simple. The shooter changed place and it would seem he was immune. But two cannons were powerful to break down his immunity.
“We climb down the rock and…”
The old man knit his brow and his lips were quivering.
“A girl was lying among dead Greys. She was lying on the back grasping a double fowler with one and a ramrod with the other hand. The ramrod was half inserted in the barrel. Her left knee was splinted with a canister ball. To avoid blood loss the unfortunate wretch belted her leg above the knee with the help of the revolver’s barrel inserted into the loop…
“A ghost of the girl appears here once a year… She sleeps here…”
The old man took a small bouquet of mountain flowers off his waistcoat pocket and put it on a hillock.
“Amazing story! Here your half dollar and dime, Sir!”
“Thank you! But let the story be concluded… She was my cousin… It was I who showed her how to load the double fowler lying on back and it was I who advised to shoot canisters…”