Page:The Spell of the Yukon and Other Verses.djvu/38



It put me queer, and for near a year I never drew sober breath, Till I found myself in the bughouse ward with a claim staked out on death.

"Twenty years in the Yukon, struggling along its creeks; Roaming its giant valleys, scaling its god-like peaks; Bathed in its fiery sunsets, fighting its fiendish cold— Twenty years in the Yukon . . . twenty years—and I'm old.

"Old and weak, but no matter, there's 'hooch' in the bottle still. I'll hitch up the dogs to-morrow, and mush down the trail to Bill. It's so long dark, and I'm lonesome—I'll just lay down on the bed; To-morrow I'll go . . . to-morrow . . . I guess I'll play on the red.