large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb_51
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb
English
2254
Never will I forget it, there on the mountain face, Antlike, men with their burdens, clinging in icy space; Dogged, determined and dauntless, cruel and callous and cold, Cursing, blaspheming, reviling, and ever that battle cry  "Gold!" NEVER WILL I FORGET IT THERE ON THE MOUNTAIN FACE ANTLIKE MEN WITH THEIR BURDENS CLINGING IN ICY SPACE DOGGED DETERMINED AND DAUNTLESS CRUEL AND CALLOUS AND COLD CURSING BLASPHEMING REVILING AND EVER THE BATTLE CRY GOLD
 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! 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! Our eyes were strained to the summit; the weaklings dropped to the rear, Falling in heaps by the trail-side, heart-broken, limp and wan; But the gaps closed up in an instant, and heedless the chain went on. E 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 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 OUR EYES WERE STRAINED TO THE SUMMIT THE WEAKLINGS DROPPED TO THE REAR FALLING IN HEAPS BY THE TRAIL SIDE HEART BROKING LIMP AND WAN BUT THE GAPS CLOSED UP IN AN INSTANT AND HEEDLESS THE CHAIN WENT ON
large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/2254/ballads_cheechako_0811_librivox_64kb_mp3/11_trailofninety-eight_service_hp_64kb.flac