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by Monte Herridge


  which there seemed an unending supply) and investigate—the shadowy chance of a delayed making preparations for the winter. Once we revenge which I shall not live to see. I only even caught a mole, stabbed it to death with our hope the cat will not get me before I can secrete glass swords, and skinned it laboriously. It these capsules in some place where they will be furnished us both good food and clothing.

  found. Winter is coming; we dare not hunt for Sherman developed uncanny skill with such fear of the animal, and our food is running short.

 

 

 


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