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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Courage of Marge O'Doone"

Her running away was the most natural thing
in the world--for her. She was an amazingly spontaneous little creature,
full of courage and a fierce determination to fight some one, but
probably to-day or to-morrow she would have been forced to turn
homeward, quite exhausted with her adventure, and nibbling roots along
with Tara to keep herself alive. The thought of her hunger and of the
dire necessity in which he had found her, drove the smile from his lips.
He was finishing his pack when she left the bear and came to him.
"If we are to get over the mountain before dark we must hurry," she
said. "See--it is a big mountain!"
She pointed to a barren break in the northward range, close up to the
snow-covered peaks.
"And it's cold up there when night comes," she added.
"Can you make it?" David asked. "Aren't you tired? Your feet sore? We
can wait here until morning...."
"I can climb it," she cried, with an excitement which he had not seen in
her before. "I can climb it--and travel all night--to tell Brokaw and
Hauck I don't belong to them any more, and that we're going away! Brokaw
will be like a mad beast, and before we go I'll scratch his eyes out!"
"Good Lord!" gasped David under his breath.
"And if Hauck swears at me I'll scratch _his_ out!" she declared,
trembling in the glorious anticipation of her vengeance.


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