Summary

A. M. Chisholm Fur Pirates — 13. I Play a Lone Hand (1915)

Bullets sang all around me, spatted and richocheted on the water, buzzed through the air above my head. Half a dozen rifles blended in a rattling fire. Apparently they were all unhooking their guns straight downstream in the hope of hitting any one who might be there. I dropped flat in the canoe, and waited till the fusillade ceased.
My paddle blade had been split, but I had a second paddle in the canoe, and, working furiously, I emerged from the creek to the lake. In spite of the wind it was calm enough there because the long, narrow point sheltered the creek's mouth.
Source: Wikisource

A. M. Chisholm Fur Pirates — 13. I Play a Lone Hand (1915)

All the time I was being swept out and down the lake, and the sea got worse. Of course I had intended to bring the canoes triumphantly into shore by our camp, but I soon saw that I could do nothing of the sort, even with one canoe, let alone the lot. I was quite helpless so far as directing my course was concerned. All I could do was to drift and try to do that right side up.
I began to tire with the continued exertion. I was a strong boy; but, after all, I was only a boy with only a boy's endurance. My arms began to weaken with the dig and drag of the paddle.
Source: Wikisource

A. M. Chisholm Fur Pirates — 13. I Play a Lone Hand (1915)

CHAPTER XIII. I PLAY A LONE HAND. Since there was nothing to be gained by remaining longer, we went back to the shore and our canoe. By that time the afternoon was far gone. The low sun hid itself behind threatening clouds, and a rising wind, coldly edged, began to strain through the treetops. The surface of the lake darkened and soon began to run in little, choppy, white-topped waves.
Source: Wikisource

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