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The Long Portage   By: (1866-1945)

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[Illustration: "ALL DAY LONG THEY PADDLED UP THE GLEAMING LAKE" Page 290]

THE LONG PORTAGE

By HAROLD BINDLOSS

Author of A Prairie Courtship, Winston of the Prairie, etc.

With a Frontispiece in colors by ARTHUR HUTCHINS

New York GROSSET & DUNLAP Publishers

Copyright, 1912, by FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY

All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian

Published in England under the title, "The Pioneer"

September, 1912

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE I. The Gladwyne Expedition 1 II. The Divide 12 III. The Cache 23 IV. A Painful Decision 35 V. Millicent Gladwyne 47 VI. Nasmyth Tells his Story 58 VII. On the Moors 68 VIII. Gladwyne Receives a Shock 81 IX. Lisle Gathers Information 92 X. Bella's Champion 102 XI. Crestwick Gives Trouble 118 XII. Mrs. Gladwyne's Appeal 129 XIII. A Futile Protest 142 XIV. Lisle Comes to the Rescue 153 XV. Bella's Defeat 165 XVI. Gladwyne Surrenders 177 XVII. A Bad Fall 189 XVIII. A Prudent Decision 200 XIX. Gladwyne Gains a Point 211 XX. Mrs. Gladwyne's Temptation 223 XXI. The Last Afternoon 233 XXII. Startling News 243 XXIII. A Forced March 254 XXIV. Millicent Summons Her Guide 265 XXV. A Reliable Man 276 XXVI. Lisle Turns Autocrat 287 XXVII. An Unpleasant Surprise 298 XXVIII. Clarence Reaches Camp 309 XXIX. A Bold Scheme 321 XXX. The End of the Pursuit 332 XXXI. Lisle Goes To England 343

THE LONG PORTAGE

CHAPTER I

THE GLADWYNE EXPEDITION

Vernon Lisle was fishing with a determination that did not spring altogether from love of the sport. The water of the British Columbian river in which he stood knee deep was icy cold; his rubber boots were badly ripped and leaky, and he was wet with the drizzle that drove down the lonely valley. It was difficult to reach the slack behind a boulder some distance outshore, and the arm he strained at every cast ached from hours of assiduous labor; but there was another ache in his left side which was the result of insufficient food, and though the fish were shy he persevered.

A few hundred yards away the stream came roaring down a long declivity in a mad white rapid and then shot across the glassy green surface of the pool below in a raised up wedge of foam. Wet boulders and outcropping fangs of rock hemmed in the water, and among them lay stranded logs and stream packed masses of whitened branches. Farther back, ragged cypresses and cedars, half obscured by the drifting haze of spray, climbed the sides of the gorge, and beyond rose the dim, rounded summits of treeless hills. There were streaks of snow on some of them, for winter threatened to close in unusually early.

With a lowering sky overhead and the daylight beginning to fade, it was a desolate picture; one into which the lonely figure of the man in tattered deerskin jacket and shapeless hat somehow fitted. His attire matched the gray white coloring of rock and boulder; his spare form and agile movements, together with the intentness of his bronzed face and the steadiness of his eyes, hinted at the quickness of observation, the stubborn endurance, and the tireless activity, by which alone life can be maintained in the savage North. He had the alertness of the wild creatures of the waste; and it was needed... Continue reading book >>




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