large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/sun_dog_trail_london_jwt_64kb_252
large/506/short_stories_009_64kb_mp3/sun_dog_trail_london_jwt_64kb
English
506
And yet have these two baby wolves made me very tired. I am lean, like a starved cat, and I am glad of my bed at night, and in the morning am I greatly weary. Yet ever are we hitting the trail in the dark before daylight, and still on the trail does the dark after nightfall find us. AND YET HAVE THESE TWO BABY WOLVES MADE ME VERY TIRED I AM LEAN LIKE A STARVING CAT AND I AM GLAD OF MY BED AT NIGHT AND IN THE MORNING I AM GREATLY WEARY YET EVER ARE WE HITTING THE TRAIL IN THE DARK BEFORE DAYLIGHT AND STILL ON THE TRAIL DOES THE DARK AFTER NIGHTFALL FIND US
roan with the pain of their weariness. And in the day, as they stagger along the trail, they cry under their breaths. They are funny wolves. "We pass Fort Yukon. We pass Fort Hamilton. We pass Minook. January has come and nearly gone. The days are very short. At nine o'clock comes daylight. At three o'clock comes night. And it is cold. And even I, Sitka Charley, am tired. Will we go on forever this way without end? I do not know. But always do I look along the trail for that which they try to find. There are few people on the trail. Sometimes we travel one hundred miles and never see a sign of life. It is very quiet. There is no sound. Sometimes it snows, and we are like wandering ghosts. Sometimes it is clear, and at midday the sun looks at us for a moment over the hills to the south. The northern lights flame in the sky, and the sun-dogs dance, and the air is filled with frost-dust. "I am Sitka Charley, a strong man. I was born on the trail, and all my days have I lived on the trail. NIGHT IN THEIR SLEEP THEY MOAN AND GROAN WITH THE PAIN OF THEIR WEARINESS AND IN THE DAY AS THEY STAGGER ALONG THE TRAIL THEY CRY UNDER THEIR BREATHS THEY ARE FUNNY WOLVES WE PASS FORT YUKON WE PASS FORT HAMILTON WE PASS MINOOK JANUARY HAS COME AND NEARLY GONE THE DAYS ARE VERY SHORT AT NINE O'CLOCK COMES DAYLIGHT AT THREE O'CLOCK COMES NIGHT AND IT IS COLD AND EVEN I SITKA CHARLIE AM TIRED WILL WE GO ON FOREVER THIS WAY WITHOUT END I DO NOT KNOW BUT ALWAYS DO I LOOK ALONG THE TRAIL FOR THAT WHICH THEY TRY TO FIND THERE ARE FEW PEOPLE ON THE TRAIL SOMETIMES WE TRAVEL ONE HUNDRED MILES AND NEVER SEE A SIGN OF LIFE IT IS VERY QUIET THERE IS NO SOUND SOMETIMES IT SNOWS AND WE ARE LIKE WANDERING GHOSTS SOMETIMES IT IS CLEAR AND AT MIDDAY THE SUN LOOKS AT US FOR A MOMENT OVER THE HILLS TO THE SOUTH THE NORTHERN LIGHTS FLAME IN THE SKY AND THE SUN DOGS DANCE AND THE AIR IS FILLED WITH FROST DUST I AM SITKA CHARLIE A STRONG MAN I WAS BORN ON THE TRAIL AND ALL MY DAYS HAVE I LIVED ON THE TRAIL
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