[Frontier Stories by Bret Harte]@TWC D-Link book
Frontier Stories

CHAPTER I
13/36

There was not the least gayety, recklessness, or spontaneity in the action; it was simply mechanical bravado.

It was so ineffective, even upon her own feelings, that her arms presently dropped to her side, and she coughed embarrassedly.

"Where's that whiskey, pardner ?" she asked.
The young man turned toward the tree he had just quitted, and without further words assisted her to mount to the cavity.

It was an irregular-shaped vaulted chamber, pierced fifty feet above by a shaft or cylindrical opening in the decayed trunk, which was blackened by smoke as if it had served the purpose of a chimney.

In one corner lay a bearskin and blanket; at the side were two alcoves or indentations, one of which was evidently used as a table, and the other as a cupboard.


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