The Lure of the North eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 307 pages of information about The Lure of the North.

The Lure of the North eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 307 pages of information about The Lure of the North.

Presently there was a deafening concussion like the shock when a giant gun is fired.  The shack trembled as if struck by a battering ram, and Thirlwell felt his nerves tingle.  After the concussion came a roar that grew into an overwhelming din, and they braced themselves against the strain; one could not bear that appalling noise very long.  It subsided a little into a confusion of jarring sounds that were sometimes distinguishable and sometimes drowned each other.  Massy floes shocked and smashed, and tore apart upon the ledges with a noise like the ripping of woven fabric.  Others, lifted out of the water, ground across those that stuck fast, and some crashed against the rocky bank, throwing huge blocks among the pines.

This lasted for a time, and then the uproar got bearable and gradually sank.  There were intervals when one could hear the turmoil of the liberated flood as it rolled by in swollen fury.  The intervals lengthened, and by and by Thirlwell got on his feet with a sigh of relief.

“You never get used to hearing the ice break up.  It’s tremendous!” he said.  “This is a very stern country.  Sometimes it frightens one—­”

He stopped abruptly and listened.  The uproar was sinking fast and in a lull he heard footsteps outside.  Then the door was pushed open and a man staggered in.  His fur-coat was torn and muddy, his feet came through his pulp moccasins, and the water that drained from him made a pool on the floor.  Three others followed and stood, dripping, in the light, while Scott and Thirlwell gazed at them.  Then the first dropped into a chair and leaned his arms on the table as if overcome by fatigue.  His face was gaunt and his eyes were half shut.

“The boss is pretty well used up,” said one of the others and Scott crossed the floor.

“Stormont,” he said, “you look as if you had been up against it hard.”

Stormont lifted his head and Thirlwell thought his eyes got like a wolf’s.

“I’m starving!  No food the last two days.”

“Not much before!” one of the rest remarked.

“Been on mighty short rations since we hit the backtrail.  Had a tough job to make it; had to leave our blankets and truck.”

“We can give you a meal and a place to sleep.  But where have you been?”

“Up north,” another answered vaguely, and Scott, recognizing his caution, smiled as he turned to the last of the party, who stood near the door.

“You look fresher than the others, Steve.  However, you’re used to the country and I expect you brought your partners down.”

“That’s so,” Driscoll growled.  “Didn’t think they’d make it.  They’re a tender-footed crowd!”

In the meantime, Thirlwell studied the fellow.  Driscoll was wet and ragged; his face was thin, but inscrutably sullen.  Unlike the rest, he did not look overcome by fatigue.  When Scott spoke he gave him a dull glance and then fixed his eyes on the floor.  Thirlwell had noted something unusual in his comrade’s manner.  Scott’s voice had an ironical note and his look did not indicate much sympathy.  In the North, a demand for food is seldom refused, but Scott obviously meant to be satisfied with supplying the party’s urgent needs.  With this Thirlwell agreed.

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The Lure of the North from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.