large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/sun_dog_trail_london_jwt_64kb_269
large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/sun_dog_trail_london_jwt_64kb
English
506
It was a long time ago, seven years ago, the fall of '97, when I saw the woman first time. At Lake Linderman I had one canoe, very good Peterborough canoe. I came over Chilcoot Pass with two thousand letters for Dawson. I was letter carrier. Everybody rush to Klondike at that time. Many people on trail. IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO SEVEN YEARS AGO THE FALL OF NINETY SEVEN WHEN I SAW THE WOMAN FIRST TIME AT LAKE LINDERMAN I HAD ONE CANOE VERY GOOD PETERBOROUGH CANOE I CAME OVER CHILCOOT PASS WITH GOOD PETERBOROUGH CANOE I CAME OVER CHILCOOT PASS WITH TWO THOUSAND LETTERS FOR DAWSON I WAS LETTER CARRIER EVERYBODY RUSHED TO KLONDIKE AT THAT TIME MANY PEOPLE ON TRAIL
 or twice. Then he knocked the ashes from his pipe, carefully refilled it, and after a thoughtful pause, lighted it again. "Then have I, too, seen many pictures of life," he began; "pictures not painted, but seen with the eyes. I have looked at them like through the window at the man writing the letter. I have seen many pieces of life, without beginning, without end, without understanding." With a sudden change of position he turned his eyes full upon me and regarded me thoughtfully. "Look you," he said; "you are a painter-man. How would you paint this which I saw, a picture without beginning, the ending of which I do not understand, a piece of life with the northern lights for a candle and Alaska for a frame." "It is a large canvas," I murmured. But he ignored me, for the picture he had in mind was before his eyes and he was seeing it. "There are many names for this picture," he said. "But in the picture there are many sun-dogs, and it comes into my mind to call it 'The Sun-Dog Trail. NODDED HIS HEAD SEVERAL TIMES AND GRUNTED ONCE OR TWICE THEN HE KNOCKED THE ASHES FROM HIS PIPE CAREFULLY REFILLED IT AND AFTER A THOUGHTFUL PAUSE LIGHTED IT AGAIN THEN HAVE I TOO SEEN MANY PICTURES OF LIFE HE BEGAN PICTURES NOT PAINTED BUT SEEN WITH THE EYES I HAVE LOOKED AT THEM LIKE THROUGH THE WINDOW AT THE MAN WRITING THE LETTER I HAVE SEEN MANY PIECES OF LIFE WITHOUT BEGINNING WITHOUT END WITHOUT UNDERSTANDING WITH A SUDDEN CHANGE OF POSITION HE TURNED HIS EYES FULL UPON ME AND REGARDED ME THOUGHTFULLY LOOK YOU HE SAID YOU ARE A PAINTER MAN HOW WOULD YOU PAINT THIS WHICH I SAW A PICTURE WITHOUT BEGINNING THE ENDING OF WHICH I DO NOT UNDERSTAND A PIECE OF LIFE WITH THE NORTHERN LIGHTS FOR A CANDLE AND ALASKA FOR A FRAME IT IS A LARGE CANVAS I MURMURED BUT HE IGNORED ME FOR THE PICTURE HE HAD IN MIND WAS BEFORE HIS EYES AND HE WAS SEEING IT THERE ARE MANY NAMES FOR THIS PICTURE HE SAID BUT IN THE PICTURE THERE ARE MANY SUN DOGS AND IT COMES INTO MY MIND TO CALL IT THE SUN DOG TRAIL
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