large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb_44
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
For grub meant gold to our thinking, and all that could walk must pack; The sheep for the shambles stumbled, each with a load on its back; And even the swine were burdened, and grunted and squealed and rolled, And men went mad in the moment, huskily clamoring "Gold!" Oh, we were brutes and devils, goaded by lust and fear! FOR GRUB MEANT GOLD TO OUR THINKING AND ALL THAT COULD WALK MUST PACK THE SHEEP FOR THE SHAMBLES STUMBLED EACH WITH A LOAD ON ITS BACK AND EVEN THE SWINE WERE BURDENED AND GRUNTED AND SQUEALED AND ROLLED AND MEN WENT MAD IN THE MOMENT HUSKILY CLAMORING GOLD OH WE WERE BRUTES AND DEVILS GOADED BY LUST AND FEAR
n. II. We landed in wind-swept Skagway. We joined the weltering mass, Clamoring over their outfits, waiting to climb the Pass. We tightened our girths and our pack-straps; we linked on the Human Chain, Struggling up to the summit, where every step was a pain. Gone was the joy of our faces, grim and haggard and pale; The heedless mirth of the shipboard was changed to the care of the trail. We flung ourselves in the struggle, packing our grub in relays, Step by step to the summit in the bale of the winter days. Floundering deep in the sump-holes, stumbling out again; Crying with cold and weakness, crazy with fear and pain. Then from the depths of our travail, ere our spirits were broke, Grim, tenacious and savage, the lust of the trail awoke. "Klondike or bust!" rang the slogan; every man for his own. Oh, how we flogged the horses, staggering skin and bone! Oh, how we cursed their weakness, anguish they could not tell, Breaking their hearts in our passion, lashing them on till they fell! LTH IN OUR VISIONS LONG ERE THE TRAIL BEGAN WE LANDED IN WIND SWEPT SKAGUAY WE JOINED THE WELTERING MASS CLAMORING OVER THEIR OUTFITS WAITING TO CLIMB THE PASS WE TIGHTENED OUR GIRTHS AND OUR PACK STRAPS WE LINKED ON THE HUMAN CHAIN STRUGGLING UP TO THE SUMMIT WHERE EVERY STEP WAS A PAIN GONE WAS THE JOY OF OUR FACES GRIM AND HAGGARD AND PALE THE HEEDLESS MIRTH OF THE SHIPBOARD WAS CHANGED TO THE CARE OF THE TRAIL WE FLUNG OURSELVES IN THE STRUGGLE PACKING OUR GRUB IN RELAYS STEP BY STEP TO THE SUMMIT IN THE BALE OF THE WINTER DAYS FLOUNDERING DEEP IN THE SUMP HOLES STUMBLING OUT AGAIN CRYING WITH COLD AND WEAKNESS CRAZY WITH FEAR AND PAIN THEN FROM THE DEPTH OF OUR TRAVAIL ERE OUR SPIRITS WERE BROKE GRIM TENACIOUS AND SAVAGE THE LUST OF THE TRAIL AWOKE KLONDIKE OR BUST RANG THE SLOGAN EVERY MAN FOR HIS OWN OH HOW WE FLOGGED THE HORSES STAGGERING SKIN AND BONE OH HOW WE CURSED THEIR WEAKNESS ANGUISH THEY COULD NOT TELL BREAKING THEIR HEARTS IN OUR PASSION LASHING THEM ON TILL THEY FELL
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