The Gold Hunters
The Gold Hunters
James Oliver Curwood
The Gold Hunters
James Oliver Curwood
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CHAPTER I. THE PURSUIT OF THE HUDSON BAY MAIL
CHAPTER II. MINNETAKI IN THE HANDS OF THE OUTLAWS
CHAPTER III. ON THE TRAIL OF THE WOONGAS
CHAPTER IV. ROD FOLLOWS THE MAN-FOOTED BEAR
CHAPTER V. ROD'S FIGHT FOR LIFE
CHAPTER VI. THE SHADOW OF DEATH
CHAPTER VII. ON THE TRAIL OF GOLD
CHAPTER VIII. THE YELLOW BULLET
CHAPTER IX. UP THE OMBABIKA
CHAPTER X. THE MYSTERIOUS SHOT
CHAPTER XI. THE CRY IN THE CHASM
CHAPTER XII. WABI MAKES A STRANGE DISCOVERY
CHAPTER XIII. THE THIRD WATERFALL
CHAPTER XIV. THE PAPER IN THE OLD TIN BOX
CHAPTER XV. THE TREASURE IN THE POOL
CHAPTER XVI. JOHN BALL AND THE MYSTERY OF THE GOLD
CHAPTER XVII. IN A SUBTERRANEAN WORLD
CHAPTER XVIII. JOHN BALL'S STORY
The Gold Hunters
A Story of Life and Adventure in the Hudson Bay Wilds
Produced by Suzanne Shell, Bjoern Lijnema and
Distributed Proofreaders
[Illustration: The canoe sped out into the gloom.]
THE GOLD HUNTERS
A Story of Life and Adventure in the Hudson Bay Wilds
BY JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD
1909
To the sweet-voiced, dark-eyed little half-Cree maiden at Lac-Bain, who is the Minnetaki of this story; and to “Teddy” Brown, guide and trapper, and loyal comrade of the author in many of his adventures, this book is affectionately dedicated.
CHAPTER I. THE PURSUIT OF THE HUDSON BAY MAIL
The deep hush of noon hovered over the vast solitude of Canadian forest. The moose and caribou had fed since early dawn, and were resting quietly in the warmth of the February sun; the lynx was curled away in his niche between the great rocks, waiting for the sun to sink farther into the north and west before resuming his marauding adventures; the fox was taking his midday slumber and the restless moose-birds were fluffing themselves lazily in the warm glow that was beginning to melt the snows of late winter.
It was that hour when the old hunter on the trail takes off his pack, silently gathers wood for a fire, eats his dinner and smokes his pipe, eyes and ears alert;—that hour when if you speak above a whisper, he will say to you,
“Sh-h-h-h! Be quiet! You can't tell how near we are to game. Everything has had its morning feed and is lying low. The game won't be moving again for an hour or two, and there may be moose or caribou a gunshot ahead. We couldn't hear them—now!”
And yet, after a time one thing detached itself from this lifeless solitude. At first it was nothing more than a spot on the sunny side of a snow-covered ridge. Then it moved, stretched itself like a dog, with its forefeet extended far to the front and its shoulders hunched low—and was a wolf.
A wolf is a heavy sleeper after a feast. A hunter would have said that this wolf had gorged itself the night before.
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