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Updated: July 4, 2025
On December 20, after discussing the question with Wild, I informed all hands that I intended to try and make a march to the west to reduce the distance between us and Paulet Island. A buzz of pleasurable anticipation went round the camp, and every one was anxious to get on the move. So the next day I set off with Wild, Crean, and Hurley, with dog teams, to the westward to survey the route.
Deliberately the Mormon cocked the weapon and stood over Hurley. "Get up!" he ordered, and Shefford heard the ruthless Mormon in him then. Hurley rose slowly. Then Joe prodded him in the middle with the cocked gun. Shefford startled, expected the gun to go off. So did the others, especially Hurley, who shrank in panic from the dark Mormon. "Rustle!" said Joe, and gave the man a harder prod.
He galloped away and came back with Gamble, a man they dare not let live, once having learned their secret. Both Little Crow and he were treacherously shot by the partners as they were riding to warn George Sword and his police. Then came the swift vengeance of the Sioux, the flight of Hurley and Gross, leaving their unwary comrades to an awful fate.
This pump, which Hurley had made from the Flinder's bar case of our ship's standard compass, was quite effective, though its capacity was not large. The man who was attending the sail could pump into the big outer cooker, which was lifted and emptied overboard when filled.
And the impulse of Hurley, plainly enough, was to obey the order, and go anywhere to escape from that relentless stare. His glance wavered and flashed around the circle and then back to Red Pierre, for the expectancy of the crowd forced him back. When the leader of the pack springs and fails to kill, the rest of the pack tear him to pieces.
The evening sun shone bright on the remains of the old buildings at Medmenham; close beside which arose an irregular pile of building which Dick told us was a very pleasant house; and there were plenty of houses visible on the wide meadows opposite, under the hill; for, as it seems that the beauty of Hurley had compelled people to build and live there a good deal.
They must have fish to function, to make a profit. They would cut one another's throats for salmon. So much the better, MacRae cynically reflected. He told Hurley, at last, as he had told Robbin-Steele, to wait till the salmon began to run. He left the Northwest offices with the firm conviction that it was not going to be a question of markets, but a question of getting the salmon.
But all the same, he could not help wishing that Ella had asked him to go to The Mooring on Tuesday rather than Thursday; and he felt when Tuesday arrived that the hot and dusty town with its ceaseless roll of gloomy festivities contained nothing for him that he would not willingly part withal in exchange for an hour or two beside the still waters of the Thames in the neighborhood of Hurley.
One stood with his whisky glass suspended in mid air, and tilted back his head to listen. In the gaming-room Hurley pushed back his chair and leaned to the left, giving him a free sweep for his right hand. The Mexican smiled with a slow and deep content. "Thank you," answered Pierre, "but I am waiting still, sir." The left hand of Hurley played impatiently on the table.
He means to stay on the Hard till we're gone. He's a very suspicious man." Mr. Hurley was indeed lingering just beyond the immediate range of the Ariadne's lamps. "Can't come! What a pity! What a pity!" murmured Mr. Gilman, with an accent that was not a bit sincere. The news was the best he had heard for hours. "But I suppose," he added, "we'd better sail just the same, as I've said we should?"
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