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Updated: June 27, 2025
"I want to get that rock-dump hove out of the pool before it's dark," he said. "One can't see to crawl over those ice-crusted rocks by firelight." Gordon glanced at Mattawa, who grinned. "Well," said Mattawa, "it was only yesterday when I fell in, and I figured Charly was going right under the fall the day before. Oh, yes, I guess we'd better get the thing through while it's light."
Your cart must have its awnings complete. And your horses harnessed with their halters!" H. laughed and told him that he was giving himself a lot of useless trouble. Thursday, the 30th, market day at Charly, the nearest town to Villiers. We both drove down in the victoria, and were not surprised to see my officers of the day before seated in the hotel dining-room, finishing breakfast.
At length his heart throbbed furiously, for a faint splash of oars came out of the darkness, and they both ran forward to the windlass. The sharp clanking it made drowned the splash of oars, but in another minute or two there was a crash as the boat drove alongside, and Charly scrambled up with a rope while Lewson hurled sundry bags and cases after him.
Towards four o'clock I took my bicycle and started down to Charly. A quarter of a mile from our gate, in front of the town hall, a mason had driven two huge posts, into the ground on either side of the road, and was swinging a heavy chain between them. I looked askance at the schoolmaster who stood in the doorway surveying the work.
He remembered that he stormed at and almost fought with Charly, who lagged behind now and then in a fit of languid dejection, and that once he fell heavily, and was sensible of a certain half-conscious regret that he was still capable of going on when the Indian dragged him to his feet again.
Charly made no comment, for this was the most he had expected, and a few minutes later there was silence in the little tent when the men lay down to sleep among the skins. They started at sunrise next morning, and followed the river slowly by easy stages until the man sent back to Overweg's base camp overtook them with another Kamtchadale.
"We've hauled that thing about far enough," said Charly, who dropped the traces, too, and slipped away from the sled. Wyllard stood looking at them for a moment or two with anxious eyes. It was evident that they could haul the hampering load no further, and he was troubled by an almost insupportable weariness. "In that case," he said, "you have to decide what you'll leave behind."
Charly made no answer, but his face hardened as he put his helm down a spoke or two. Next day the wind fell lighter, but for a week it still held westerly, and after that it blew moderately fresh from the south.
Wyllard straightened himself suddenly. "You will send for that Kamtchadale?" "Assuredly. The tale you have told me has stirred my curiosity. As my path lies west up the river valley, we can, if it pleases you, go on for a while together." Wyllard, who thanked him, turned to Charly with a sigh of relief.
"It's real?" he said, slowly and haltingly. "You have come at last?" They assured him that this was the case, and for a moment or two the man's face worked and he made a hoarse sound in his throat. "Lord," he said, "if I'm dreaming I don't want to wake." Charly leaned forward and smote him on the shoulder.
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