. Rod and gun. ent Es-quimaux, no man knowcth morethan he knows of the way of the wolf. Yet the lirst deep snow finds themback at the trail again working outtheir destiny in a waste of the trail has no end all winterlong beneath the austere sky, wherethe northern lights flash and llamelike batthng angel hosts. And only the men of the noith intheir parkis, with frost-lit eyes andclouds of frozen breath, know how the cooking fire. Then he wakes theparty to boil the kettle (which inNorthern parlance means food). Itis cold and clear. Now they hitch uptheir teams- long before the dawnspil
. Rod and gun. ent Es-quimaux, no man knowcth morethan he knows of the way of the wolf. Yet the lirst deep snow finds themback at the trail again working outtheir destiny in a waste of the trail has no end all winterlong beneath the austere sky, wherethe northern lights flash and llamelike batthng angel hosts. And only the men of the noith intheir parkis, with frost-lit eyes andclouds of frozen breath, know how the cooking fire. Then he wakes theparty to boil the kettle (which inNorthern parlance means food). Itis cold and clear. Now they hitch uptheir teams- long before the dawnspills itself along the east. Bells men shout. Their whips crackand the dogs bark. Mush! Mush! !Damn you, mush on! ! ! One teamafter another goes forward in its turnto break the trail. By ten oclock thedogs must be rested, and the bannockis thawed out and breakfast gobbledfrom the frying-pan before it hastime to freeze. Then on swing tlieteams again. Sometimes a blizzardlashes down, lifting the snow, stab-. Hauling Fire Wood huskies go on barking for joy withtheir curling brushes in the air up tothe world through the violet creamylight of sun-kissed snow. Each man,then, knows that nothing matterssave the dogs. On them dependseverything. Por them everything isplanned and done. For the trail isthe husky way, and God pity himwho forgets it. Let us go with them a little the bright moonlight of earlymorning, long before the brilliantstarlight of the North has lost avestige of its lustre, the guide, half-breed or pure-blood Cree, gets upfrom his spruce bed to rekindle the bing the mens faces with man ploughs his own way withthe twanging crunch of snow-shoebeneath his feet. If he falls, he isalone. These huskies that now slaveon under his lash have been known toeat him. There is no mercy hereeither for the dog or the man whopeters out. He who falls, sometimesnever rises. He who fails is wills and steel muscles and a lustfor life alone survive.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectf, booksubjecthunting
