Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 12, 2025
In it were the cumulative waters of a score of those torrents, and in its broad, deep sweep into the big lake the currents and perils of each were combined into one great threatening force. The thoughts that were in Rod's mind betrayed themselves as he looked at his companions. Mukoki was reloading the canoe. Wabi watched the flood. "She's running pretty strong," said the Indian youth dubiously.
"There rocks, there tree," said the old warrior, in answer to Rod's glance, "down there went scream!" He pointed far out across the plain. Wabi had gone to the tree. "See here, Rod!" he cried. "By George, this was a close shave!" He pointed to a tiny hole freshly made in the smooth white surface of the tree as the others came up.
The Rod's force had made itself felt most largely on economics; but in its blossoming it had put forth a few secondary sprigs, and one of these curled over in the direction of domestic life, of marital relation.
Rod's experience that day had not been filled with the terrible hardships of his companions, and for some time after they had fallen asleep he sat close to the fire, thinking again of the strangeness with which his fortunes had changed, and watching the flickering firelight as it played in a thousand fanciful figures in the deeper and denser gloom of the forest.
Every hour added to Rod's knowledge of the wilderness and its people.
"Don't make a move and hang on to the gun!" he warned. "If we try to get you in here we'll all go over!" He made a sign to the Indian, who swung the canoe slowly inshore. Then he grinned down into Rod's dripping, unhappy face. "By George, that last shot was a dandy for a tenderfoot! You got your bear!"
He has got his bearings and will go as straight as though he was on a blazed trail; but he won't see the caribou until he conies to the edge of the open." Each minute now added to Rod's excitement. Each of those minutes brought the old warrior nearer his game. Seldom, thought Rod, had such a scene been unfolded to the eyes of a white boy.
Every now and then during that winter Bert had bitter proof of his enemy's unrelenting hate. It seemed as though there were no limit to Rod's ingenuity in devising ways of annoying him, and many a hot tear did he succeed in wringing from him. As spring drew near, this persecution grew more and more intolerable, and, without Bert himself being fully conscious of it, a crisis was inevitable.
It was nearly noon before she, dressed with unconscious care, stood in the street doorway looking about uncertainly as if she did not know which way to turn. She finally moved in the direction of the theater where Rod's play was rehearsing. She had gone to none of the rehearsals because Rod had requested it. "I want you to see it as a total surprise the first night," explained he.
They did so, but that cheer lacked the spontaneous enthusiasm and genuine admiration which had been thrown into the cheering for Grant, something which Springer did not fail to note. "Oh, thanks," said Phil, weakly returning the warm grasp of Rod's strong hand. "I didn't do anything except blow up."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking