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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Alaskan"

Bullets were
finding their way through the moss and earth chinking between the logs
of the cabin. His arms closed in a fierce embrace about the girl's slim
body, and before she could realize what was happening, he leaped to the
trap with her and almost flung her into its protection. Then he forced
Nawadlook down beside her, and after them he thrust in the empty gun and
the apron with its weight of cartridges. His face was demoniac in
its command.
"If you don't stay there, I'll open the door and go outside to fight!
Do you understand? _Stay there!_"
His clenched fist was in their faces, his voice almost a shout. He saw
another white spurt of dust; the bullet crashed in tinware, and
following the crash came a shriek from Keok in the attic.
In that upper gloom Sokwenna's gun had fallen with a clatter. The old
warrior bent himself over, nearly double, and with his two withered
hands was clutching his stomach. He was on his knees, and his breath
suddenly came in a panting, gasping cry. Then he straightened slowly and
said something reassuring to Keok, and faced the window again with the
gun which she had loaded for him.
The scream had scarcely gone from Keok's lips when Alan was at the top
of the ladder, calling her. She came to him through the stark blackness
of the room, sobbing that Sokwenna was hit; and Alan reached out and
seized her, and dragged her down, and placed her with Nawadlook and
Mary Standish.


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