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Updated: June 17, 2025
She saw Hank's ghastly face and flaxen ringlets go down, and she saw his life blood spurting far over the pure white snow, and the next instant she was borne swiftly away from the terrible scene. For some little time Black Hawk had it all his own way, and they were far out on the main traveled road to Pendleton before Little Wolf made an effort to check his speed.
It was he who tempted the man to drink, until he became drunk, and did the mischief, to repair which he sacrificed his favorite horse. Thank God it was by Hank's own confession, the animal's noise that brought about the burning of the brewery. It is some comfort that God now and then legislates on the traffic, when men will not."
At first she thought it was the end of a rope, but presently she heard a dismal "Hee-haw!" and knew she was holding fast to the end of Hank's tail. Suddenly the sea was lighted up by a vivid glare. The ship, now in the far distance, caught fire, blew up and sank beneath the waves.
He seemed to be closer to them than ever, and Frank no longer wondered why the other's sunburned face had seemed partly familiar to him when he first met him. "You and Hank are very much alike," he said, later on, to Reddy. "They used to say that at home. I was just big enough to be accused of many of Hank's tricks, and once I got a lickin' he deserved."
But Elmira she grabs me and shakes me and she says: "You little liar, you, what do you mean by that tale you told?" I thinks that lamming is about due now. But whilst all eyes is turned on me and Elmira, they comes a voice from that cistern. It is Hank's voice, and he sings out: "Tom Alexander, is that you?" Some of the women scream, for some thinks it is Hank's ghost.
He was deeply susceptible, moreover, to that singular spell which the wilderness lays upon certain lonely natures, and he loved the wild solitudes with a kind of romantic passion that amounted almost to an obsession. The life of the backwoods fascinated him whence, doubtless, his surpassing efficiency in dealing with their mysteries. On this particular expedition he was Hank's choice.
But your horse seems to be getting on all right, Bob." "Sure he does. That ointment made by old Hank's like magic. Domino won't suffer much from that jab. But that was a bully good supper all right, and I don't care how soon we repeat it," he concluded with a laugh. Finally both lads lay down to secure such rest as they needed after a long and tiresome day.
He forced himself to speak of home in the careless tone of one who has nothing to hide, but the words left an ache in his throat and a dull heaviness in his chest. Hank Brown went on talking and saw nothing wrong with his mood. Indeed, he never saw anything wrong with a man who would listen to Hank's hunting and fishing stories and not bore him with stories of his own prowess.
Whitey and Hank rode for a time in a silence broken only by Hank's occasional profane mutterings at his patient horse, then Whitey descried two objects moving toward him from the west. At first he mistook them for two horsemen, then discovered that one horse was being led, then that the rider was Injun, and the led horse was Monty. With a whoop of astonishment and joy Whitey galloped toward them.
"Time to be movin', ain't it?" came Ezra Pollard's voice, shouting up the unpainted staircase, "Hank's drawed a bucket out here at the well for ye to wash in. Needn't worry about no towel. Samanthy's got one fur ye, but ye kin bring yer comb."
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