"
The afternoon was far spent when they landed. Breyette and MacDonald
made themselves comfortable with their backs against the wall. Supper
came and was eaten. Evening closed in. The bold, scorching stare of the
sun faded. Little cooling breezes fluttered along the lake shore,
banishing the last trace of that brassy heat. Men who had lounged
indoors, or against shaded walls roamed about, and half-breed women
chattered in voluble gutturals back and forth between the cabins.
CHAPTER III
THE DESERTED CABIN
In the factor's comfortable quarters Mr. Thompson sat down to the first
meal he had thoroughly relished in two weeks. A corner of the verandah
was screened off with wire netting. Outside that barrier mosquitoes and
sandflies buzzed and swarmed in futile activity. Within stood an easy
chair or two and a small table which was presently spread with a linen
cloth, set with porcelain dishes, and garnished with silverware. All the
way down the Athabasca Thompson had found every meal beset with
exasperating difficulties, fruitful of things that offended both his
stomach and his sense of fitness. He had not been able to accommodate
himself to the necessity of juggling a tin plate beside a campfire, of
eating with one hand and fending off flies with the other.
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