You will imagine the physical discomforts of my further journey.
The ground was marshy and sodden, and I sank deep into it at every
step I took. My clothing was wet through and through, and my dog,
which I carried over my shoulder, was a burden so heavy and
inconvenient that only my love for my late companion and respect
for her lifeless body gave me sufficient strength to bear it for so
great a distance. And then the rain fell incessantly, and the wind
was full in my face.
Carver Kinlay's farm of Crua Breck was on my way to my uncle's, and
I thought I would stay there a few moments as I passed, to leave
the otter skin for Thora, and maybe get shelter and a drink of warm
milk. But not till I was almost at the door did I remember about my
recent fight with Tom.
In its exposed position on the bleak hillside the farmstead felt
the full force of the gale as it beat in fury against the front of
the house. The rain and the salt spray from the sea pelted upon the
windows, and laid low all Thora's flowers in the little garden. The
large fuchsia bush, which in summertime dangled its drooping
blossoms in rich profusion, seemed the only plant capable of
withstanding the rough blast; and the great gaunt jaws of the
Greenland whale, that formed an archway at the gate, trembled in
the tempest.
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