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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Flaming Forest"

He was confident of himself there. Yet he had
fallen, and out of the mire into which he had sunk he knew also
that he must drag himself, and quickly, or be everlastingly
lowered in his own esteem. He stripped himself naked and did not
lie to that other and greater thing of life that was in him.
He was not only a fool, but a coward. Only a coward would have
touched the hair of St. Pierre's wife with his lips; only a coward
would have let live the thoughts that burned in his brain. She was
St. Pierre's wife--and he was anxious now for the quick homecoming
of the chief of the Boulains. After that everything would happen
quickly. He thanked God that the inspiration of the wager had come
to him. After the fight, after he had won, then once more would he
be the old Dave Carrigan, holding the trump hand in a thrilling
game.
Loud voices from the York boats ahead and answering cries from
Bateese in the stern drew him to the open deck. The bateau was
close to shore, and the half-breed was working the long stern
sweep as if the power of a steam-engine was in his mighty arms.
The York boats had shortened their towline and were pulling at
right angles within a few yards of a gravelly beach.


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