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Seton, Ernest Thompson, 1860-1946

"Rolf in the Woods"

Next day at dawn they were off; at first it was calm, but
the surging of the snow waves soon began again, and the air was
filled with the spray of their lashing till it was hard to see
fifty yards in any direction. They were making very bad time. The
fourth day should have brought them to Ogdensburg, but they were
still far off; how far they could only guess, for they had not
come across a house or a settler.

Chapter 69. Ogdensburg
The same blizzard was raging on the next day when Skookum gave
unequivocal sign talk that he smelled something.
It is always well to find out what stirs your dog. Quonab looked
hard at Skookum. That sagacious mongrel was sniffing vigorously,
up in the air, not on the ground; his mane was not bristling, and
the patch of dark hair that every gray or yellow dog has at the
base of his tail, was not lifted.
"He smells smoke," was the Indian's quick diagnosis. Rolf pointed
Up the wind and made the sign-talk query. Quonab nodded.
It was their obvious duty to find out who was their smoky
neighbour. They were now not so far from the St. Lawrence; there
was a small chance of the smoke being from a party of the enemy;
there was a large chance of it being from friends; and the
largest chance was that it came from some settler's cabin where
they could get necessary guidance.


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