large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb_239
large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb
English
506
He would cross this divide to the first trickle of another stream, flowing to the west, which he would follow until it emptied into the river Dease, and here he would find a cache under an upturned canoe and piled over with many rocks. HE WOULD CROSS THIS DIVIDE TO THE FIRST TRICKLE OF ANOTHER STREAM FLOWING TO THE WEST WHICH HE WOULD FOLLOW UNTIL IT EMPTIED INTO THE RIVER DESE AND HERE HE WOULD FIND A CASH UNDER AN UPTURNED CANOE AND PILED OVER WITH MANY ROCKS
it, hitched the pack still farther over on his left shoulder, and lurched on down the slope. The bottom of the valley was soggy with water, which the thick moss held, spongelike, close to the surface. This water squirted out from under his feet at every step, and each time he lifted a foot the action culminated in a sucking sound as the wet moss reluctantly released its grip. He picked his way from muskeg to muskeg, and followed the other man's footsteps along and across the rocky ledges which thrust like islets through the sea of moss. Though alone, he was not lost. Farther on he knew he would come to where dead spruce and fir, very small and weazened, bordered the shore of a little lake, the _titchin-nichilie_, in the tongue of the country, the "land of little sticks." And into that lake flowed a small stream, the water of which was not milky. There was rush-grass on that stream--this he remembered well--but no timber, and he would follow it till its first trickle ceased at a divide. ITH HIS FEAR AGAIN OVERCAME IT HITCHED THE PACK STILL FARTHER OVER ON HIS LEFT SHOULDER AND LURCHED ON DOWN THE SLOPE THE BOTTOM OF THE VALLEY WAS SOGGY WITH WATER WHICH THE THICK MOSS HELD SPONGE LIKE CLOSE TO THE SURFACE THIS WATER SQUIRTED OUT FROM UNDER HIS FEET AT EVERY STEP AND EACH TIME HE LIFTED A FOOT THE ACTION CULMINATED IN A SUCKING SOUND AS THE WET MOSS RELUCTANTLY RELEASED ITS GRIP HE PICKED HIS WAY FROM MUSKEG TO MUSKEG AND FOLLOWED THE OTHER MAN'S FOOTSTEPS ALONG AND ACROSS THE ROCKY LEDGES WHICH THRUST LIKE ISLETS THROUGH THE SEA OF MOSS THOUGH ALONE HE WAS NOT LOST FARTHER ON HE KNEW HE WOULD COME TO WHERE DEAD SPRUCE AND FIR VERY SMALL AND WEAZENED BORDERED THE SHORE OF A LITTLE LAKE THE TITCHEN NE CHILI IN THE TONGUE OF THE COUNTRY THE LAND OF LITTLE STICKS AND INTO THAT LAKE FLOWED A SMALL STREAM THE WATER OF WHICH WAS NOT MILKY THERE WAS RUSH GRASS ON THAT STREAM THIS HE REMEMBERED WELL BUT NO TIMBER AND HE WOULD FOLLOW IT TILL ITS FIRST TRICKLE SEIZED AT A DIVIDE
large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb.flac