John Buchan

Lawyer and MP Sir Edward Leithen is given a year to live. Fearing he will die unfulfilled, he devotes his last months to seeking out and restoring to health Galliard, a young Canadian banker. Galliard is in remotest Canada searching for the River of the Sick Heart. Braving a severe Arctic winter, Leithen finds Galliard and feels his own health returning. The North has healed both men, but only one will return to civilization.

20 stories of strange and unknown anthropoids in classic science fiction and fantasy.

This is the epic story of an officer and a gentleman with a brilliant career ahead of him until he is imprisoned for a crime he did not commit. Determined to salvage something from the wreckage of his life he embarks on a series of spectacular and daring missions in the service of his country.

vi, 56 pages ; 22 cm

This book is the tale of a great achievement in war. It is a record of the deeds of that expeditionary force which represented South Africa on the front in the West. There were South Africans in many British battalions, in cavalry regiments, in the Flying Corps, in every auxiliary service; but here we are concerned only with the contingent which, with its appurtenances, was the direct contribution of the Union Government to the main battle-ground.

When I was a child in short-coats a spaewife came to the town-end, and for a silver groat paid by my mother she riddled my fate. It came to little, being no more than that I should miss love and fortune in the sunlight and find them in the rain. The woman was a haggard, black-faced gypsy, and when my mother asked for more she turned on her heel and spoke gibberish; for which she was presently driven out of the place by Tarn Roberton, the baillie, and the village dogs. But the thing stuck in my memory, and together with the fact that I was a Thursday's bairn, and so, according to the old rhyme, "had far to go," convinced me long ere I had come to man's estate that wanderings and surprises would be my portion. It is in the rain that this tale begins. I was just turned of eighteen, and in the back-end of a dripping September set out from our moorland house of Auchencairn to complete my course at Edinburgh College. The year was 1685, an ill year for our countryside; for the folk were at odds with the King's Government, about religion, and the land was full of covenants and repressions. Small wonder that I was backward with my colleging. . . .