A. M. Chisholm

Summary

A. M. Chisholm Fur Pirates — 17. Treachery (1915)

The way he handled his cooking job was enough to make him popular. He could rustle a meal quicker than any camp cook I ever saw, no small consideration when you land tired and wolfish at night. He was an artist with a fire. At his will it seemed to burn brightly or produce beds of coals; while for others it would merely smoke and blacken. Ballou was the same as ever; capable, quiet, considerate, doing more than his share of the work. He and Mr. Fothergill were on the best of terms again, and the latter was planning a shoot in the late fall, on which Ballou and Louis should accompany him.
Source: Wikisource

A. M. Chisholm Fur Pirates — 17. Treachery (1915)

On our way in we had been forced to portage half a mile or more over a poor trail. Ballou had hoped to run the rapid coming back, but the water had lowered dangerously.
Deferring to this experienced advice, we went ashore and made camp. Though it was earlier than usual, none of us felt like tackling the packing job on the heel of a day's hard paddling; nor did most of us look forward to the carry on the morrow with much pleasure, though of course it was all in the day's work. My experience has been that nine white men out of ten absolutely hate packing. Indians, of course, are different.
Source: Wikisource

A. M. Chisholm Fur Pirates — 17. Treachery (1915)

Ballou replied. "The farther we go the shorter start we get, and to market them furs the way we want to we'll need all our time."
"Now you're whistlin'!" Hayes grunted. "How will we do it?"
"Jump 'em in their blankets," Ballou answered. "Toft's the only one that don't sleep like a winterin' bear. He's about as wide awake as a weasel, but I'll look after him. Louis will handle the redhead—he's achin' to do it. Dunleath's the only other one that's any use, and McGregor can fix him.
Source: Wikisource

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