large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/sun_dog_trail_london_jwt_64kb_115
large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/sun_dog_trail_london_jwt_64kb
English
506
"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.' 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
re is no end to it. Nobody will ever know the end. Yet is it a true thing. I have seen it. It is life." For a long time he smoked on in silence, weighing the pictorial wisdom of the white man and verifying it by the facts of life. He 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.  THEN SAID VERY SLOWLY NO AS YOU SAY THERE IS NO END TO IT NOBODY WILL EVER KNOW THE END YET IT IS A TRUE THING I HAVE SEEN IT IT IS LIFE FOR A LONG TIME HE SMOKED ON IN SILENCE WEIGHING THE PICTORIAL WISDOM OF THE WHITE MAN AND VERIFYING IT BY THE FACTS OF LIFE HE 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
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