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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Corporal Cameron of the North West Mounted Police; a tale of the Macleod trail"


With shameless, bestial haste the Indian placed the bottle to his lips
and after a long pull passed it to his waiting brother.
At this point Raven rose as if to close the negotiations and took out
his own flask for a final drink, but found it empty.
"Aha!" he exclaimed, turning the empty flask upside down. At once the
Indian passed him his flask. Raven, however, waved him aside and, going
to his pack, drew out a tin oil can which would contain about a gallon.
From this with great deliberation he filled his flask.
"Huh!" exclaimed the Indian, pointing to the can. "How much?"
Raven shook his head. "No sell. For me," he answered, tapping himself on
the breast.
"How much?" said the Indian fiercely.
Still Raven declined to sell.
Swiftly the Indian gathered up the remaining half of his pack of furs
and, throwing them savagely at Raven's feet, seized the can.
Still Raven refused to let it go.
At this point the soft padding of a loping pony was heard coming up the
trail and in a few minutes Little Thunder silently took his place in
the circle about the fire. Cameron's heart sank within him, for now it
seemed as if his chance of escape had slipped from him.
Raven spoke a few rapid words to Little Thunder, who entered into
conversation with the Stonies. At length White Cloud drew from his
coat a black fox skin.


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akwarystyka
Akwarystyka, akwarystyka
Kody Do Gier
Kody Do Gier
drukarnia wielkoformatowa
Szybka drukarnia
drukarnia cyfrowa
Barwa - drukarnia cyfrowa
meble dla dzieci
meble dla dzieci