Summary

L. P. Wyman The Golden Boys Along the River Allagash

Never before had he known the dog to show the slightest sign of fear. Always eager to attack anything, no matter what its size. The Indian had more than once saved the life of his companion when the latter was exhausted after making a desperate stand against heavy odds. But now he cringed when spoken to, as though he expected a mortal blow. Sicum’s spirit was broken. Of that the Indian was sure. But what could have happened to so quickly change an animal without fear into a cringing coward? Long the Indian brooded over the question.
Source: Gutenberg

L. P. Wyman The Golden Boys Along the River Allagash

Long before three o’clock Rex decided that Bob was not far wrong. It seemed to him that they must have traveled not less than fifteen miles when Kernertok, as they stopped for one of their frequent rests, announced that they were nearly half way across. Pushing through underbrush so thick that it required about all the strength he could muster, climbing over and around rocks nearly the size of a small house and climbing over or crawling under fallen trees had proven a form of exercise wholly new to him.
Source: Gutenberg

L. P. Wyman The Golden Boys Along the River Allagash

Sicum uttered a low growl once which woke his master, but the latter spoke to him in a low tone and the dog remained quiet. Jack crept on his hands and knees to a big spruce about ten feet from where they were sleeping and toward the shore and sat down with his back against it.
The night was cloudy, not even a star showing in the heavens, and it was intensely dark, so that he was unable to see even his hand when he held it in front of his face.
“Guess I’ll have to trust entirely to my ears,” he thought. “Eyes are no good to-night.”
Source: Gutenberg

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