Browsing named entities in a specific section of William Hepworth Dixon, White Conquest: Volume 1. Search the whole document.
Found 74 total hits in 20 results.
Chapter 4: a lost Capital. Lapping round Pinos Point, nine or ten miles from the Old Quarries, the water races on a pale and sandy beach, of bow-like form, ending in two green and picturesque bluffs. One bluff is Santa Cruz, the other Monterey. The arc is twenty miles across; a sweep of sunny water, over which flocks of gulls and pelicans dart and flash. A slip of sand, dotted along the line with ribs and tusks of whales, so many that they look like drifts of snow, divides the dark blue
Leaning on the vessel's side, we watch a shoal of smelts at play.
A pelican settles on our mast.
The air is still; the silence broken only by the snapping of an unseen dog. A line of surf breaks white and fresh along the rocks of Santa Cruz, but on this stretch of amber sands the waters lap and lie, gently as the fancies float about the eyelids of a sleeping child.
Like waiting in a Syrian road, is waiting at a Mexican port.
Who cares for time?
Beyond the rickety old Mexican pi