A. M. Chisholm, Fur Pirates — 8. Ahtikamag (1915)
“ Fothergill and Dunleath sat apart, talking in low tones. Old Hayes was spinning one of his interminable yarns. But Tom Ballou sat by himself, his elbows on his knees, both hands cupped around the bowl of his pipe, and had nothing to say to any one.I helped Louis clean up, and afterward I strolled away with him to the river bank, where he sat down and filled his pipe and opened the last button of his shirt, exposing his great, hairy chest to the cool of the night air drafting along the river."Sacré!" said Louis feelingly. "Dat cookin' she's no job for man. ”
