Transcribed from the 1919 Mills and Boon edition by DavidPrice,
by
JACK LONDON
authorof “the jacket,”“the valley
of the moon,” etc.
entirelyunabridged
MILLS & BOON, LIMITED
49 RUPERT STREET
LONDON, W. 1
First Published | 1916 |
Second Impression | 1917 |
Third Impression | 1918 |
Fourth Impression | 1919 |
Copyright in the United Statesof America by Jack London
CONTENTS
| page |
Lost Face | |
Trust | |
To Build a Fire | |
That Spot | |
Flush of Gold | |
The Passing of MarcusO’Brien | |
The Wit of Porportuk |
It was the end. Subienkow had travelled a long trail ofbitterness and horror, homing like a dove for the capitals ofEurope, and here, farther away than ever, in Russian America, thetrail ceased. He sat in the snow, arms tied behind him,waiting the torture. He stared curiously before him at ahuge Cossack, prone in the snow, moaning in his pain. Themen had finished handling the giant and turned him over to thewomen. That they exceeded the fiendishness of the men, theman’s cries attested.
Subienkow looked on, and shuddered. He was not afraid todie. He had carried his life too long in his hands, on thatweary trail from Warsaw to Nulato, to shudder at meredying. But he objected to the torture. It offendedhis soul. And this offence, in turn, was not due to themere pain he must endure, but to the sorry spectacle the painwould make of him. He knew that he would pray, and beg, andentreat, even as Big Ivan and the others that had gonebefore. This would not be nice. To pass out bravelyand cleanly, with a smile and a jest—ah! that would havebeen the way. But to lose control, to hav