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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hunted Woman, by James Oliver Curwood This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: The Hunted Woman Author: James Oliver Curwood Release Date: February 27, 2004 [EBook #11328] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNTED WOMAN *** Produced by Suzanne Shell and PG Distributed Proofreaders THE HUNTED WOMAN BY JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD Author of KAZAN, Etc. Illustrated by FRANK B. HOFFMAN 1915 TO MY WIFE AND OUR COMRADES OF THE TRAIL LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "'Look at MacDonald.... It's not the gold, but MacDonald, that's taking me North, Ladygray.... Up there, another grave is calling MacDonald.'" A tall, slim, exquisitely poised figure.... "'Another o' them Dotty Dimples come out to save the world. I thought I'd help eggicate her a little, an' so I sent her to Bill's place'" "A crowd was gathering.... A slim, exquisitely formed woman in shimmering silk was standing beside a huge brown bear" "'The tunnel is closed,' she whispered.... 'That means we have just forty-five minutes to live.... Let us not lie to one another.'" CHAPTER I It was all new--most of it singularly dramatic and even appalling to the woman who sat with the pearl-gray veil drawn closely about her face. For eighteen hours she had been a keenly attentive, wide-eyed, and partly frightened bit of humanity in this onrush of "the horde." She had heard a voice behind her speak of it as "the horde"--a deep, thick, gruff voice which she knew without looking had filtered its way through a beard. She agreed with the voice. It was the Horde--that horde which has always beaten the trails ahead for civilization and made of its own flesh and blood the foundation of nations. For months it had been pouring steadily into the mountains--always in and never out, a laughing, shouting, singing, blaspheming Horde, every ounce of it toughened sinew and red brawn, except the Straying Angels. One of these sat opposite her, a dark-eyed girl with over-red lips and hollowed cheeks, and she heard the bearded man say something to his companions about "dizzy dolls" and "the little angel in the other seat." Th
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