Books with author James Oliver Curwood

Kazan is a 1914 novel about a tame wolf-dog hybrid named Kazan. It was written by James Oliver Curwood Kazan, one quarter wolf and three quarters husky, travels to the Canadian wilderness with his owner Thorpe where they meet man named McCready who Kazan recognizes as someone who abused him in the past. When McCready attacks Thorpe's wife Isobel, Kazan kills McCready and then runs away fearing the harsh punishment for killing a man. He later encounters a wolf pack of which he becomes the new leader, and has a mate, Gray Wolf. One day the pack comes across a sick, old man, Pierre Radisson, his married daughter Joan and her baby girl. Seeing the woman, Kazan turns against his pack, protecting the family from the other wolves. Eventually the pack, with the exception of Gray Wolf, runs away. Joan and her father take Kazan with them and nurse his wounds. After he has recovered, his new owners leave for Pierre's cabin in Churchill. Gray Wolf follows them at a distance hoping to be reunited with Kazan. Pierre dies on the journey, leaving his daughter, her child and Kazan alone to reach the cabin. That winter Kazan spends the day with Gray Wolf while

KazanFather of Baree The unforgettable adventures of a wolf-dogKazan, three-quarters dog and one-quarter wolf, searches for companionship while struggling to survive the harsh Canadian wilderness. He suffers every threat imaginable, from man and beast alike. Finally, with his courageous mate, Gray Wolf, he befriends humans and travels with them in an adventures trek through the frozen Northern wilds.

Thor is a huge grizzly bear who lives in the Canadian Rockies. He is being hunted by Jim Langdon and his companions through forests and mountains of Canadian wilderness. During his run Thor comes across Muskwa, a motherless bear cub, and takes it under his wing. Together they make a good team, managing to hunt and feed, while being on constant run, but Jim Langdon and hunters are always close.James Oliver Curwood (1878-1927) was an American action-adventure writer and conservationist. His adventure writing followed in the tradition of Jack London. Like London, Curwood set many of his works in the wilds of the Great White North. He often took trips to the Canadian northwest which provided the inspiration for his wilderness adventure stories. At least eighteen movies have been based on or inspired by Curwood's novels and short stories.

In The Gold Hunters we find 3 men in search of a treasure of gold hidden away in the upper reaches of the Canadian wilderness. One, a young white man, another his half breed friend, and the third the wise old Indian sage who communes with the wilderness as only his people have done through the generations. The 3 men know the gold is there, they had found the map which is leading them to it. Yet it seems that the map is leading them to places that don't exist, and each day finds a new adventure and new dangers which they must overcome if they are to achieve their reward.

This story is about Baree's survival after being separated from his parents as a young pup. He eventually finds himself in the care of Nepeese and her father Pierrot, a trapper. He bonds with Nepeese, and the story goes from there. James Oliver Curwood took the well used "a boy and his dog" formula, and created a great adventure story about a girl and her dog.

Pierre Gourdon had the love of God in his heart, a man's love for a man's God, and it seemed to him that in this golden sunset of a July afternoon the great Canadian wilderness all about him was whispering softly the truth of his faith and his creed. For Pierre was the son of a runner of the streams and forests, as that son's father had been before him, and love of adventure ran in his blood, and romance, too; so it was only in the wild and silent places that he felt the soul in him attuned to that fellowship with nature which the good teachers at Ste. Anne de Beaupré did not entirely approve. Nature was Pierre's God, and would ever be until he died. And though he had crept up the holy stair at Ste. Anne's on his knees, and had touched the consecrated water from the sacred font, and had looked with awe upon mountains of canes and crutches left by those who had[2] come afflicted and doubting and had departed cured and believing, still he was sure that in this sunset of a certain July afternoon he was nearer to the God he desired than at any other time in all his life.Josette, his wife, slender and tired, her dark head bare in the fading sun, stood wistful and hoping at his side, praying gently that at last their long wanderings up the St. Lawrence and along this wilderness shore of Superior had come to an end, and that they might abide in this new paradise, and never travel again until the end of their days.Back of them, where a little stream ran out of the cool forest, a tireless boy quested on hands and knees in the ferns and green grass for wild strawberries, and though strawberry season was late his mouth was smeared red.

Pierre Gourdon had the love of God in his heart, a man's love for a man's God, and it seemed to him that in this golden sunset of a July afternoon the great Canadian wilderness all about him was whispering softly the truth of his faith and his creed. For Pierre was the son of a runner of the streams and forests, as that son's father had been before him, and love of adventure ran in his blood, and romance, too; so it was only in the wild and silent places that he felt the soul in him attuned to that fellowship with nature which the good teachers at Ste. Anne de Beaupré did not entirely approve. Nature was Pierre's God, and would ever be until he died. And though he had crept up the holy stair at Ste. Anne's on his knees, and had touched the consecrated water from the sacred font, and had looked with awe upon mountains of canes and crutches left by those who had[2] come afflicted and doubting and had departed cured and believing, still he was sure that in this sunset of a certain July afternoon he was nearer to the God he desired than at any other time in all his life.Josette, his wife, slender and tired, her dark head bare in the fading sun, stood wistful and hoping at his side, praying gently that at last their long wanderings up the St. Lawrence and along this wilderness shore of Superior had come to an end, and that they might abide in this new paradise, and never travel again until the end of their days.Back of them, where a little stream ran out of the cool forest, a tireless boy quested on hands and knees in the ferns and green grass for wild strawberries, and though strawberry season was late his mouth was smeared red.

Pierre Gourdon had the love of God in his heart, a man's love for a man's God, and it seemed to him that in this golden sunset of a July afternoon the great Canadian wilderness all about him was whispering softly the truth of his faith and his creed. For Pierre was the son of a runner of the streams and forests, as that son's father had been before him, and love of adventure ran in his blood, and romance, too; so it was only in the wild and silent places that he felt the soul in him attuned to that fellowship with nature which the good teachers at Ste. Anne de Beaupré did not entirely approve. Nature was Pierre's God, and would ever be until he died. And though he had crept up the holy stair at Ste. Anne's on his knees, and had touched the consecrated water from the sacred font, and had looked with awe upon mountains of canes and crutches left by those who had[2] come afflicted and doubting and had departed cured and believing, still he was sure that in this sunset of a certain July afternoon he was nearer to the God he desired than at any other time in all his life.Josette, his wife, slender and tired, her dark head bare in the fading sun, stood wistful and hoping at his side, praying gently that at last their long wanderings up the St. Lawrence and along this wilderness shore of Superior had come to an end, and that they might abide in this new paradise, and never travel again until the end of their days.Back of them, where a little stream ran out of the cool forest, a tireless boy quested on hands and knees in the ferns and green grass for wild strawberries, and though strawberry season was late his mouth was smeared red.