large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb_222
large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/love_of_life_london_jwt_64kb
English
506
It was of another man, who did not walk, but who dragged himself on all fours. The man thought it might be Bill, but he thought in a dull, uninterested way. IT WAS OF ANOTHER MAN WHO DID NOT WALK BUT WHO DRAGGED HIMSELF ON ALL FOURS THE MAN THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE BILL BUT HE THOUGHT IN A DULL UNINTERESTED WAY
shining sea was blotted out by blackness, he knew he was nearer to it by no more than four miles. Throughout the night he heard the cough of the sick wolf, and now and then the squawking of the caribou calves. There was life all around him, but it was strong life, very much alive and well, and he knew the sick wolf clung to the sick man's trail in the hope that the man would die first. In the morning, on opening his eyes, he beheld it regarding him with a wistful and hungry stare. It stood crouched, with tail between its legs, like a miserable and woe-begone dog. It shivered in the chill morning wind, and grinned dispiritedly when the man spoke to it in a voice that achieved no more than a hoarse whisper. The sun rose brightly, and all morning the man tottered and fell toward the ship on the shining sea. The weather was perfect. It was the brief Indian Summer of the high latitudes. It might last a week. To-morrow or next day it might he gone. In the afternoon the man came upon a trail. THAT NIGHT WHEN THE SHINING SEA WAS BLOTTED OUT BY BLACKNESS HE KNEW HE WAS NEARER TO IT BY NO MORE THAN FOUR MILES THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT HE HEARD THE COUGH OF THE SICK WOLF AND NOW AND THEN THE SQUAWKING OF THE CARIBOO CALVES THERE WAS LIFE ALL AROUND HIM BUT IT WAS STRONG LIFE VERY MUCH ALIVE AND WELL AND HE KNEW THE SICK WOLF CLUNG TO THE SICK MAN'S TRAIL IN THE HOPE THAT THE MAN WOULD DIE FIRST IN THE MORNING ON OPENING HIS EYES HE BEHELD IT REGARDING HIM WITH A WISTFUL AND HUNGRY STARE IT STOOD CROUCHED WITH TAIL BETWEEN ITS LEGS LIKE A MISERABLE AND WOEBEGONE DOG IT SHIVERED IN THE CHILL MORNING WIND AND GRINNED DISPIRITEDLY WHEN THE MAN SPOKE TO IT IN A VOICE THAT ACHIEVED NO MORE THAN A HOARSE WHISPER THE SUN ROSE BRIGHTLY AND ALL MORNING THE MAN TOTTERED AND FELL TOWARD THE SHIP ON THE SHINING SEA THE WEATHER WAS PERFECT IT WAS THE BRIEF INDIAN SUMMER OF THE HIGH LATITUDES IT MIGHT LAST A WEEK TO MORROW OR THE NEXT DAY IT MIGHT BE GONE IN THE AFTERNOON THE MAN CAME UPON A TRAIL
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