Love of Life | Page 3

bunch under his shirt on
the chest. This accomplished, a panic came upon him, and he
unwrapped them all and counted them again. There were still
sixty-seven.
He dried his wet foot-gear by the fire. The moccasins were in soggy
shreds. The blanket socks were worn through in places, and his feet
were raw and bleeding. His ankle was throbbing, and he gave it an
examination. It had swollen to the size of his knee. He tore a long strip
from one of his two blankets and bound the ankle tightly. He tore other
strips and bound them about his feet to serve for both moccasins and
socks. Then he drank the pot of water, steaming hot, wound his watch,
and crawled between his blankets.
He slept like a dead man. The brief darkness around midnight came and
went. The sun arose in the northeast - at least the day dawned in that
quarter, for the sun was hidden by gray clouds.
At six o'clock he awoke, quietly lying on his back. He gazed straight up
into the gray sky and knew that he was hungry. As he rolled over on his

elbow he was startled by a loud snort, and saw a bull caribou regarding
him with alert curiosity. The animal was not mere than fifty feet away,
and instantly into the man's mind leaped the vision and the savor of a
caribou steak sizzling and frying over a fire. Mechanically he reached
for the empty gun, drew a bead, and pulled the trigger. The bull snorted
and leaped away, his hoofs rattling and clattering as he fled across the
ledges.
The man cursed and flung the empty gun from him. He groaned aloud
as he started to drag himself to his feet. It was a slow and arduous task.
His joints were like rusty hinges. They worked harshly in their sockets,
with much friction, and each bending or unbending was accomplished
only through a sheer exertion of will. When he finally gained his feet,
another minute or so was consumed in straightening up, so that he
could stand erect as a man should stand.
He crawled up a small knoll and surveyed the prospect. There were no
trees, no bushes, nothing but a gray sea of moss scarcely diversified by
gray rocks, gray lakelets, and gray streamlets. The sky was gray. There
was no sun nor hint of sun. He had no idea of north, and he had
forgotten the way he had come to this spot the night before. But he was
not lost. He knew that. Soon he would come to the land of the little
sticks. He felt that it lay off to the left somewhere, not far - possibly
just over the next low hill.
He went back to put his pack into shape for travelling. He assured
himself of the existence of his three separate parcels of matches, though
he did not stop to count them. But he did linger, debating, over a squat
moose-hide sack. It was not large. He could hide it under his two hands.
He knew that it weighed fifteen pounds, - as much as all the rest of the
pack, - and it worried him. He finally set it to one side and proceeded to
roll the pack. He paused to gaze at the squat moose-hide sack. He
picked it up hastily with a defiant glance about him, as though the
desolation were trying to rob him of it; and when he rose to his feet to
stagger on into the day, it was included in the pack on his back.
He bore away to the left, stopping now and again to eat muskeg berries.

His ankle had stiffened, his limp was more pronounced, but the pain of
it was as nothing compared with the pain of his stomach. The hunger
pangs were sharp. They gnawed and gnawed until he could not keep his
mind steady on the course he must pursue to gain the land of little
sticks. The muskeg berries did not allay this gnawing, while they made
his tongue and the roof of his mouth sore with their irritating bite.
He came upon a valley where rock ptarmigan rose on whirring wings
from the ledges and muskegs. Ker - ker - ker was the cry they made. He
threw stones at them, but could not hit them. He placed his pack on the
ground and stalked them as a cat stalks a sparrow. The sharp rocks cut
through his pants' legs till his knees left a trail of blood; but the hurt
was lost in the hurt of his hunger. He squirmed over the wet moss,
saturating his clothes and chilling his body; but he was not aware of it,
so great was his fever for food.