large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb_38
large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb
English
506
By midday the irk of his pack became too oppressive. Again he divided the gold, this time merely spilling half of it on the ground. In the afternoon he threw the rest of it away, there remaining to him only the half blanket, the tin bucket, and the rifle. BY MIDDAY THE IRK OF HIS PACK BECAME TOO OPPRESSIVE AGAIN HE DIVIDED THE GOLD THIS TIME MERELY SPILLING HALF OF IT ON THE GROUND IN THE AFTERNOON HE THREW THE REST OF IT AWAY THERE REMAINING TO HIM ONLY THE HALF BLANKET THE TIN BUCKET AND THE RIFLE
ley, and he came upon footprints in the soggy moss. They were not his own--he could see that. They must be Bill's. But he could not stop, for the mother ptarmigan was running on. He would catch her first, then he would return and investigate. He exhausted the mother ptarmigan; but he exhausted himself. She lay panting on her side. He lay panting on his side, a dozen feet away, unable to crawl to her. And as he recovered she recovered, fluttering out of reach as his hungry hand went out to her. The chase was resumed. Night settled down and she escaped. He stumbled from weakness and pitched head foremost on his face, cutting his cheek, his pack upon his back. He did not move for a long while; then he rolled over on his side, wound his watch, and lay there until morning. Another day of fog. Half of his last blanket had gone into foot-wrappings. He failed to pick up Bill's trail. It did not matter. His hunger was driving him too compellingly--only--only he wondered if Bill, too, were lost. WAMPY GROUND IN THE BOTTOM OF THE VALLEY AND HE CAME UPON FOOTPRINTS IN THE SOGGY MOSS THEY WERE NOT HIS OWN HE COULD SEE THAT THEY MUST BE BILLS BUT HE COULD NOT STOP FOR THE MOTHER PTARMIGAN WAS RUNNING ON HE WOULD CATCH HER FIRST THEN HE WOULD RETURN AND INVESTIGATE HE EXHAUSTED THE MOTHER PTARMIGAN BUT HE EXHAUSTED HIMSELF SHE LAY PANTING ON HER SIDE HE LAY PANTING ON HIS SIDE A DOZEN FEET AWAY UNABLE TO CRAWL TO HER AND AS HE RECOVERED SHE RECOVERED FLUTTERING OUT OF REACH AS HIS HUNGRY HAND WENT OUT TO HER THE CHASE WAS RESUMED NIGHT SETTLED DOWN AND SHE ESCAPED HE STUMBLED FROM WEAKNESS AND PITCHED HEAD FOREMOST ON HIS FACE CUTTING HIS CHEEK HIS PACK UPON HIS BACK HE DID NOT MOVE FOR A LONG WHILE THEN HE ROLLED OVER ON HIS SIDE WOUND HIS WATCH AND LAY THERE TILL MORNING ANOTHER DAY OF FOG HALF OF HIS LAST BLANKET HAD GONE INTO FOOT WRAPPINGS HE FAILED TO PICK UP BILL'S TRAIL IT DID NOT MATTER HIS HUNGER WAS DRIVING HIM TOO COMPELLINGLY ONLY ONLY HE WONDERED IF BILL TOO WERE LOST
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