United States or Timor-Leste ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Mac was no sooner on his legs than Kaviak, determined not to lose his grasp of the situation, climbed upon the three-legged stool just vacated, and resumed his former relations with the friendly coat-tail. Everybody laughed but Mac, who pretended not to know what was going on behind his back.
The priest and he righted the sled, and Mac straddling it, tucked in a loosened end of fur. When all was again in running order, Mac was on the same side as Father Wills. He still wore that look of dour ill-temper, and especially did he glower at the unfortunate Kaviak, seized with a fresh fit of coughing that filled the round eyes with tears. "Don't you get kind o' tired listenin' to that noise?
Nicholas paused an instant with Kaviak on his shoulder. "Kaiomi no savvy." "You not seen him to-day?" "No. He no up ?" With the swaddled child he made a gesture up the river towards the white camp. "No, he came down this morning to meet you." Nicholas shook his head, and went on gathering up the furs. As he and Mac came out, Andrew was undoing the last fastening that held the canvas to the stakes.
Among the hundreds running about, talking, bustling, hauling heterogeneous luggage, sending last letters, doing last deals, a score of women either going by this boat or saying good-bye to those who were; and Potts, the O'Flynns, and Mac waiting to hand over Kaviak to Sister Winifred.
The only person he wasn't sworn friends with was the handy-man, and there came to be a legend current in the camp, that Kaviak's first attempt at spontaneously stringing a sentence under that roof was, "Me got no use for Potts." The best thing about Kaviak was that his was no craven soul.
The two who had broken the record for winter travel on the Yukon, side by side in the sunshine, on a plank laid across two mackerel firkins, sit and watch the brimming flood. They speak of the Big Chimney men, picture them, packed and waiting for the Oklahoma, wonder what they have done with Kaviak, and what the three months have brought them.
"Oh, let the brat alone, and let's get to our grub!" said Potts, with an extreme nervous irritation. Mac swept Kaviak off the stool. "You come with me!" Only one person spoke after that till the meal was nearly done. That one had said, "Yes, Farva," and followed Mac, dinnerless, out to the Little Cabin. The Colonel set aside a plateful for each of the two absent ones, and cleared away the things.
"I lammed him, as I'd have lammed Robert Bruce if he'd lied to me." The Boy stared at this sudden incursion into history, but all he said was: "Your dinner's waitin'." The minute Mac got inside he looked round hungrily for the child. Not seeing him, he went over and scrutinised the tumbled contents of the bunks. "Where's Kaviak?" "P'raps you'll tell us." "You mean he isn't here?"
He put an empty bucket on the table, and with Mac's help, wedged the spruce in it firmly, between some blocks of wood and books of the law. The cabin was very crowded. Little Mr. Schiff was sitting on the cricket. Kaviak retired to his old seat on Elephas beyond the bunks, where he still had a good view of the wonderful tree, agreeably lit by what was left of the two candles.
They were near the Little Cabin now. "Here!" shouted the Boy; "and ... yes, here again!" And so it was. Clean and neatly printed in the last light snowfall showed the little footprints. "We're on the right trail now. Kaviak!" Through his parki the Boy felt a hand close vise-like on his shoulder, and a voice, not like MacCann's: "Goin' straight down to the fish-trap hole!"
Word Of The Day