We were sitting one night at a freighter’s…
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chunk 4472 · paragraph 0
We were sitting one night at a freighter’s
campfire, around which were drawn a score or
more of the freighters, who, with their outfits,
were in camp for the night. Stories of old times,
when the Indians were bad, and of the bravery
of the white pioneer, had gone around the circle
until it came to old man Wilson’s turn, who
said: