Lost Face Jack London (13 inch ebook reader .TXT) š
- Author: Jack London
Book online Ā«Lost Face Jack London (13 inch ebook reader .TXT) šĀ». Author Jack London
āBut Iāve run ahead of the facts. The reason Dave Walsh wasnāt on the Glendale was because he was on the Golden Rocket. It was this way. After loiterinā in Dawson on account of Flush of Gold, he went down to Mammon Creek on the ice. And there he found Dusky Burns doing so well with the claim, there was no need for him to be around. So he put some grub on the sled, harnessed the dogs, took an Indian along, and pulled out for Surprise Lake. He always had a liking for that section. Maybe you donāt know how the creek turned out to be a four-flusher; but the prospects were good at the time, and Dave proceeded to build his cabin and hers. Thatās the cabin we slept in. After he finished it, he went off on a moose hunt to the forks of the Teelee, takinā the Indian along.
āAnd this is what happened. Came on a cold snap. The juice went down forty, fifty, sixty below zero. I remember that snapā āI was at Forty Mile; and I remember the very day. At eleven oāclock in the morning the spirit thermometer at the N. A. T. & T. Companyās store went down to seventy-five below zero. And that morning, near the forks of the Teelee, Dave Walsh was out after moose with that blessed Indian of his. I got it all from the Indian afterwardsā āwe made a trip over the ice together to Dyea. That morning Mr. Indian broke through the ice and wet himself to the waist. Of course he began to freeze right away. The proper thing was to build a fire. But Dave Walsh was a bull. It was only half a mile to camp, where a fire was already burning. What was the good of building another? He threw Mr. Indian over his shoulderā āand ran with himā āhalf a mileā āwith the thermometer at seventy-five below. You know what that means. Suicide. Thereās no other name for it. Why, that buck Indian weighed over two hundred himself, and Dave ran half a mile with him. Of course he froze his lungs. Must have frozen them near solid. It was a tomfool trick for any man to do. And anyway, after lingering horribly for several weeks, Dave Walsh died.
āThe Indian didnāt know what to do with the corpse. Ordinarily heād have buried him and let it go at that. But he knew that Dave Walsh was a big man, worth lots of money, a hi-yu skookum chief. Likewise heād seen the bodies of other hi-yu skookums carted around the country like they were worth something. So he decided to take Daveās body to Forty Mile, which was Daveās headquarters. You know how the ice is on the grass roots in this countryā āwell, the Indian planted Dave under a foot of soilā āin short, he put Dave on ice. Dave could have stayed there a thousand years and still been the same old Dave. You understandā ājust the same as a refrigerator. Then the Indian brings over a whipsaw from the cabin at Surprise Lake and makes lumber enough for the box. Also, waiting for the thaw, he goes out and shoots about ten thousand pounds of moose. This he keeps on ice, too. Came the thaw. The Teelee broke. He built a raft and loaded it with the meat, the big box with Dave inside, and Daveās team of dogs, and away they went down the Teelee.
āThe raft got caught on a timber jam and hung up two days. It was scorching hot weather, and Mr. Indian nearly lost his moose meat. So
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