large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/04_balladofblackfoxskin_service_hp_64kb_29
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/04_balladofblackfoxskin_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
"From the vastitudes where the world protrudes through clouds like seas up shoaled, I held its track till it led me back to the land I had left of old   The land I had looted many moons. I was weary and sick and cold. FROM THE VASTITUDES WHERE THE WORLD PROTRUDES THROUGH CLOUDS LIKE SEAS UP SHOED I HELD ITS TRACK TILL IT LED ME BACK TO THE LAND I HAD LEFT OF OLD THE LAND I HAD LOOTED MANY MOONS I WAS WEARY AND SICK AND COLD
uld kill; That he who hunted it, soon or late, must surely suffer some ill; But I laughed at them and their old squaw-tales. Ha! Ha! I'm laughing still. "For look ye, the skin--it's as smooth as sin, and black as the core of the Pit. By gun or by trap, whatever the hap, I swore I would capture it; By star and by star afield and afar, I hunted and would not quit. "For the devil-fox, it was swift and sly, and it seemed to fleer at me; I would wake in fright by the camp-fire light, hearing its evil glee; Into my dream its eyes would gleam, and its shadow would I see. "It sniffed and ran from the ptarmigan I had poisoned to excess; Unharmed it sped from my wrathful lead ('twas as if I shot by guess); Yet it came by night in the stark moonlight to mock at my weariness. "I tracked it up where the mountains hunch like the vertebrae of the world; I tracked it down to the death-still pits where the avalanche is hurled; From the glooms to the sacerdotal snows, where the carded clouds are curled. IT THE DEVIL FOX AND SWORE THAT NO MAN COULD KILL THAT HE WHO HUNTED IT SOON OR LATE MUST SURELY SUFFER SOME ILL BUT I LAUGHED AT THEM AND THEIR OLD SQUAW TAILS HA HA I'M LAUGHING STILL FOR LOOK YE THE SKIN IT'S AS SMOOTH AS SIN AND BLACK AS THE CORE OF THE PIT BY GUN OR BY TRAP WHATEVER THE HAP I SWORE I WOULD CAPTURE IT BY STAR AND BY STAR AFIELD AND AFAR I HUNTED AND WOULD NOT QUIT FOR THE DEVIL FOX IT WAS SWIFT AND SLY AND IT SEEMED TO FLEER AT ME I WOULD WAKEN FRIGHT BY THE CAMP FIRELIGHT HEARING ITS EVIL GLEE INTO MY DREAM ITS EYES WOULD GLEAM AND ITS SHADOW WOULD I SEE IT SNIFFED AND RAN FROM THE PTARMIGAN I HAD POISONED TO EXCESS UNHARMED IT SPED FROM MY WRATHFUL LEAD TWAS AS IF I SHOT BY GUESS YET IT CAME BY NIGHT IN THE STARK MOONLIGHT TO MOCK AT MY WEARINESS I TRACKED IT UP WHERE THE MOUNTAINS HUNCH LIKE THE VERTEBRAE OF THE WORLD I TRACKED IT DOWN TO THE DEATH STILL PITS WHERE THE AVALANCHE IS HURLED FROM THE GLOBES TO THE SACERDOTAL SNOWS WHERE THE CARDED CLOUDS ARE CURLED
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/04_balladofblackfoxskin_service_hp_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/04_balladofblackfoxskin_service_hp_64kb.flac