[The Lure of the North by Harold Bindloss]@TWC D-Link book
The Lure of the North

CHAPTER XIII
10/18

The shack trembled as if struck by a battering ram, and Thirlwell felt his nerves tingle.

After the concussion came a roar that grew into an overwhelming din, and they braced themselves against the strain; one could not bear that appalling noise very long.

It subsided a little into a confusion of jarring sounds that were sometimes distinguishable and sometimes drowned each other.

Massy floes shocked and smashed, and tore apart upon the ledges with a noise like the ripping of woven fabric.

Others, lifted out of the water, ground across those that stuck fast, and some crashed against the rocky bank, throwing huge blocks among the pines.
This lasted for a time, and then the uproar got bearable and gradually sank.


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