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Curwood, James Oliver, 1879-1927

"The Golden Snare"

No
other place in the world is there storm like the storm that sweeps
over the Great Barren; no other place in the world where storm is
filled with such a moaning, shrieking tumult of VOICE. It was not
new to Philip. He had heard it when it seemed to him that ten
thousand little children were crying under the rolling and
twisting onrush of the clouds; he had heard it when it seemed to
him the darkness was filled with an army of laughing, shrieking
madmen--storm out of which rose piercing human shrieks and the
sobbing grief of women's voices. It had driven people mad. Through
the long dark night of winter, when for five months they caught no
glimpse of the sun, even the little brown Eskimos went keskwao and
destroyed themselves because of the madness that was in that
storm.
And now it swept over the cabin, and in Celie's throat there rose
a little sob. So swiftly had darkness gathered that Philip could
no longer see her, except where her face made a pale shadow in the
gloom, but he could feel the tremble of her body against him.


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