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Ribon's cabin was at the crest of a knoll that over-looked the frozen lake, and far off, over the tops of the scrub timber that fringed the edge of it, Miki saw the red glow in the sky made by a score of great camp fires. He whined, and dropped on his four feet again. It was a long wait between that and another day. But the cabin was more comfortable than Le Beau's prison-cage had been.
You can keep the rest." "It's the bloody truth, Mister Rainey, s'elp me," whined Sandy. And the truth was in his shifty eyes. Rainey went back with his news. He imagined that the five grains would prove temporarily sufficient. And they could put in for Unalaska. There were surgeons there with the revenue fleet. He thought there was probably a hospital. They would have to explain Carlsen's death.
A moment later he had lifted her to her feet, and grasping her by the hand led her towards the entrance. Outside the grim sentinel of death kept his grisly vigil. Sniffing at his dead feet whined a mangy native cur. At sight of the two emerging from the hut the beast gave an ugly snarl and an instant later as it caught the scent of the strange white man it raised a series of excited yelps.
As we know, he was a good deal of a coward at heart, and the sight of the shotgun in Snap's hands made him quake. "Don't shoot me!" he whined. "Please don't shoot me!" And he held up his hands in token of submission. "So you are the pesky rascal the lads was a-tellin' me about," said Aaron Masterson, sternly. "Nice doin's, I must say!"
"From the day when I lost my eyes to this day," was my reply, "I have never known what it was to see the shapes that God has builded on the face of the earth, or the colours with which He has painted them. Mind, I have never whined for the sight that was taken away from me. I have accepted my Kismet, and have made it as bright as thought and contrivance could manage.
Stooping down with caution, I patted the end that whined, whereupon the end that wagged became violently demonstrative. Just then the owner of the voice came round the corner. He was a big, rough fellow, in ragged garments, and armed with a thick stick, which he seemed about to fling at the little dog, when I checked him with a shout
They had to recite Shakespeare in public; how could he stand up and spout, before a whole jing-bang o' them? "I don't want to gang," he whined. "Want?" flamed his father. "What does it matter what you want? Go you shall." "I thocht I was to help in the business," whimpered John. "Business!" sneered his father; "a fine help you would be in business."
It was Gray Wolf's voice seeking for him in the night Gray Wolf's blood inviting him to the Brotherhood of the Pack. Baree trembled as he listened. In his throat he whined softly. He edged to the sheer face of the rock. He wanted to go; nature was urging him to go. But the call of the wild was struggling against odds.
For the first time in many weeks he sat back on his haunches and gave the deep and vibrant call that echoed weirdly for miles about him. Back in the banskians the big Dane heard it, and whined. From over the still body of Sandy McTrigger the little professor looked up with a white tense face, and listened for a second cry.
"It will have to be and old one," was the smiling response, for Polly's supply of cat tales the kind which the little Irish girl invariably wanted was limited. "I don't care what 't is," whined Brida, "anything 'bout a kitty. Oh, don't I wisht I had me own darlin' Popover right here in me arms! Why don't yer begin?" urged the fretful voice, for Polly sat gazing at the polished floor.
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