Explore "For the Allinson Honor" by Harold Bindloss on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A half-breed stood on the river bank beside his dog-team while Andrew handed Carnally the packs from the sled. It was late in the afternoon, the valley was swept by driving snow, and the men's hands were so numbed that they found it difficult to strap on their heavy loads. The ice was several feet in thickness on the deeper pools, but the stream ran strong along the opposite shore, and its frozen surface was rough, and broken in places by pools of inky water.
"It would save some trouble if we made our caches among these boulders," Graham suggested.