Energy books

So--" his face began to work, "am I goin' to stand
by and ask some one else to make 'em quit? No, by God!"
The men stood watching his face, curiously twisted and quivering. Then
without a word Duff seized his pack, and swung into the trail, every
man following him in his order. Without pausing, except for a brief half
hour at noon, and another later in the day for eating, they pressed the
trail, running what rapids they could and portaging the others, until in
the early evening they saw, far away, a dirty blur on the skyline.
"Hurrah!" yelled Fielding. "Good old firebus, waiting for us."
"Somebody run ahead and hold her," said Duff.
Barry flung his pack down and started away.
"Come back here, Barry," cried Knight. "You're not fit. You're all in."
"That's right, too," said McCuaig. "I guess I'll go."
And off he set with the long, shuffling, tireless trot with which, for
a hundred years, the "runners of the woods" have packed their loads and
tracked their game in the wilds of northwestern Canada.


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