The　Night…Born
  by　Jack　London
  CONTENTS：
  THE　NIGHT…BORN
  THE　MADNESS　OF　JOHN　HARNED
  WHEN　THE　WORLD　WAS　YOUNG
  THE　BENEFIT　OF　THE　DOUBT
  WINGED　BLACKMAIL
  BUNCHES　OF　KNUCKLES
  WAR
  UNDER　THE　DECK　AWNINGS
  TO　KILL　A　MAN
  THE　MEXICAN
  THE　NIGHT…BORN
  It　was　in　the　old　Alta…Inyo　Cluba　warm　night　for　San
  Franciscoand　through　the　open　windows；　hushed　and　far；　came
  the　brawl　of　the　streets。　The　talk　had　led　on　from　the　Graft
  Prosecution　and　the　latest　signs　that　the　town　was　to　be　run
  wide　open；　down　through　all　the　grotesque　sordidness　and
  rottenness　of　manhate　and　man…meanness；　until　the　name　of
  O'Brien　was　mentionedO'Brien；　the　promising　young　pugilist
  who　had　been　killed　in　the　prize…ring　the　night　before。　At　once
  the　air　had　seemed　to　freshen。　O'Brien　had　been　a　clean…living
  young　man　with　ideals。　He　neither　drank；　smoked；　nor　swore；　and
  his　had　been　the　body　of　a　beautiful　young　god。　He　had　even
  carried　his　prayer…book　to　the　ringside。　They　found　it　in　his
  coat　pocket　in　the　dressing…room。　。　。　afterward。
  Here　was　Youth；　clean　and　wholesome；　unsulliedthe　thing　of
  glory　and　wonder　for　men　to　conjure　with。。。。。　after　it　has　been
  lost　to　them　and　they　have　turned　middle…aged。　And　so　well　did
  we　conjure；　that　Romance　came　and　for　an　hour　led　us　far　from
  the　man…city　and　its　snarling　roar。　Bardwell；　in　a　way；　started
  it　by　quoting　from　Thoreau；　but　it　was　old　Trefethan；
  bald…headed　and　dewlapped；　who　took　up　the　quotation　and　for
  the　hour　to　come　was　romance　incarnate。　At　first　we　wondered
  how　many　Scotches　he　had　consumed　since　dinner；　but　very　soon
  all　that　was　forgotten。
  〃It　was　in　1898I　was　thirty…five　then；〃　he　said。　〃Yes；　I　know
  you　are　adding　it　up。　You're　right。　I'm　forty…seven　now；　look
  ten　years　more；　and　the　doctors　saydamn　the　doctors　anyway！〃
  He　lifted　the　long　glass　to　his　lips　and　sipped　it　slowly　to
  soothe　away　his　irritation。
  〃But　I　was　young。　。　。　once。　I　was　young　twelve　years　ago；　and　I
  had　hair　on　top　of　my　head；　and　my　stomach　was　lean　as　a
  runner's；　and　the　longest　day　was　none　too　long　for　me。　I　was　a
  husky　back　there　in　'98。　You　remember　me；　Milner。　You　knew　me
  then。　Wasn't　I　a　pretty　good　bit　of　all　right？〃
  Milner　nodded　and　agreed。　Like　Trefethan；　he　was　another　mining
  engineer　who　had　cleaned　up　a　fortune　in　the　Klondike。
  〃You　certainly　were；　old　man；〃　Milner　said。　〃I'll　never　forget
  when　you　cleaned　out　those　lumberjacks　in　the　M。　&　M。　that
  night　that　little　newspaper　man　started　the　row。　Slavin　was　in
  the　country　at　the　time；〃this　to　us〃and　his　manager　wanted
  to　get　up　a　match　with　Trefethan。〃
  〃Well；　look　at　me　now；〃　Trefethan　commanded　angrily。　〃That's
  what　the　Goldstead　did　to　meGod　knows　how　many　millions；　but
  nothing　left　in　my　soul。。。。。　nor　in　my　veins。　The　good　red
  blood　is　gone。　I　am　a　jellyfish；　a　huge；　gross　mass　of
  oscillating　protoplasm；　aa　。　。　。〃
  But　language　failed　him；　and　he　drew　solace　from　the　long
  glass。
  〃Women　looked　at　me　then；　and　turned　their　heads　to　look　a
  second　time。　Strange　that　I　never　married。　But　the　girl。　That's
  what　I　started　to　tell　you　about。　I　met　her　a　thousand　miles
  from　anywhere；　and　then　some。　And　she　quoted　to　me　those　very
  words　of　Thoreau　that　Bardwell　quoted　a　moment　agothe　ones
  about　the　day…born　gods　and　the　night…born。〃
  〃It　was　after　I　had　made　my　locations　on　Goldsteadand　didn't
  know　what　a　treasure…pot　that　that　trip　creek　was　going　to
  provethat　I　made　that　trip　east　over　the　Rockies；　angling
  across　to　the　Great　Up　North　there　the　Rockies　are　something
  more　than　a　back…bone。　They　are　a　boundary；　a　dividing　line；　a
  wall　impregnable　and　unscalable。　There　is　no　intercourse　across
  them；　though；　on　occasion；　from　the　early　days；　wandering
  trappers　have　crossed　them；　though　more　were　lost　by　the　way
  than　ever　came　through。　And　that　was　precisely　why　I　tackled
  the　job。　It　was　a　traverse　any　man　would　be　proud　to　make。　I　am
  prouder　of　it　right　now　than　anything　else　I　have　ever　done。
  〃It　is　an　unknown　land。　Great　stretches　of　it　have　never　been
  explored。　There　are　big　valleys　there　where　the　white　man　has
  never　set　foot；　and　Indian　tribes　as　primitive　as　ten　thousand
  years　。。。　almost；　for　they　have　had　some　contact　with　the
  whites。　Parties　of　them　come　out　once　in　a　while　to　trade；　and
  that　is　all。　Even　the　Hudson　Bay　Company　failed　to　find　them
  and　farm　them。
  〃And　now　the　girl。　I　was　coming　up　a　streamyou'd　call　it　a
  river　in　Californiaunchartedand　unnamed。　It　was　a　noble
  valley；　now　shut　in　by　high　canyon　walls；　and　again　opening　out
  into　beautiful　stretches；　wide　and　long；　with　pasture
  shoulder…high　in　the　bottoms；　meadows　dotted　with　flowers；　and
  with　clumps　of　timbersprucevirgin　and　magnificent。　The　dogs
  were　packing　on　their　backs；　and　were　sore…footed　and　played
  out；　while　I　was　looking　for　any　bunch　of　Indians　to　get　sleds
  and　drivers　from　and　go　on　with　the　first　snow。　It　was　late
  fall；　but　the　way　those　flowers　persisted　surprised　me。　I　was
  supposed　to　be　in　sub…arctic　America；　and　high　up　among　the
  buttresses　of　the　Rockies；　and　yet　there　was　that　everlasting
  spread　of　flowers。　Some　day　the　white　settlers　will　be　in　there
  and　growing　wheat　down　all　that　valley。
  〃And　then　I　lifted　a　smoke；　and　heard　the　barking　of　the
  dogsIndian　dogsand　came　into　camp。　There　must　have　been
  five　hundred　of　them；　proper　Indians　at　that；　and　I　could　see
  by　the　jerking…frames　that　the　fall　hunting　had　been　good。　And
  then　I　met　herLucy。　That　was　her　name。　Sign　languagethat
  was　all　we　could　talk　with；　till　they　led　me　to　a　big　flyyou
  know；　half　a　tent；　open　on　the　one　side　where　a　campfire
  burned。　It　was　all　of　moose…skins；　this　flymoose…skins；
  smoke…cured；　hand…rubbed；　and　golden…brown。　Under　it　everything
  was　neat　and　orderly　as　no　Indian　camp　ever　was。　The　bed　was
  laid　on　fresh　spruce　boughs。　There　were　furs　galore；　and　on　top
  of　all　was　a　robe　of　swanskinswhite　swan…skinsI　have　never
  seen　anything　like　that　robe。　And　on　top　of　it；　sitting
  cross…legged；　was　Lucy。　She　was　nut…brown。　I　have　called　her　a
  girl。　But　she　was　not。　She　was　a　woman；　a　nut…brown　woman；　an
  Amazon；　a　full…blooded；　full…bodied　woman；　and　royal　ripe。　And
  her　eyes　were　blue。
  〃That's　what　took　me　off　my　feether　eyesblue；　not　China
  blue；　but　deep　blue；　like　the　sea　and　sky　all　melted　into　one；
  and　very　wise。　More　than　that；　they　had　laughter　in　themwarm
  laughter；　sun…warm　and　human；　very　human；　and　。　。　。　shall　I　say
  feminine？　They　were。　They　were　a　woman's　eyes；　a　proper　woman's
  eyes。　You　know　what　that　means。　Can　I　say　more？　Also；　in　those
  blue　eyes　were；　at　the　same　time；　a　wild　unrest；　a　wistful
  yearning；　and　a　repose；　an　absolute　repose；　a　sort　of　all…wise
  and　philosophical　calm。〃
  Trefethan　broke　off　abruptly。
  〃You　fellows　think　I　am　screwed。　I'm　not。　This　is　only　my　fifth
  since　dinner。　I　am　dead　sober。　I　am　solemn。　I　sit　here　now　side
  by　side　with　my　sacred　youth。　It　is　not　I'old'
  Trefethanthat　talks；　it　is　my　youth；　and　it　is　my　youth　that
  says　those　were　the　most　wonderful　eyes　I　have　ever　seenso
  very　calm；　so　very　restless；　so　very　wise；　so　very　curious；　so
  very　old；　so　very　young；　so　satisfied　and　yet　yearning　so
  wistfully。　Boys；　I　can't　describe　them。　When　I　have　told　you
  about　her；　you　may　know　better　for　yourselves。〃
  〃She　did　not　stand　up。　But　she　put　out　her　hand。〃
  〃'Stranger；'　she　said；　'I'm　real　glad　to　see　you。'
  〃I　leave　it　to　youthat　sharp；　frontier；　Western　tang　of
  speech。　Picture　my　sensations。　It　was　a　woman；　a　white　woman；
  but　that　tang！　It　was　amazing　that　it　should　be　a　white　woman；
  here；　beyond　the　last　boundary　of　the　worldbut　the　tang。　I
  tell　you；　it　hurt。　It　was　like　the　stab　of　a　flatted　note。　And
  yet；　let　me　tell　you；　that　woman　was　a　poet。　You　shall　see。〃
  〃She　dismissed　the　Indians。　And；　by　Jove；　they　went。　They　took
  her　orders　and　followed　her　blind。　She　was　hi…yu　skookam　chief。
  She　told　the　bucks　to　make　a　camp　for　me　and　to　take　care　of　my
  dogs。　And　they　did；　too。　And　they　knew　enough　not　to　get　away
  with　as　much　as　a　moccasin…lace　of　my　outfit。　She　was　a　regular
  She…Who…Must…Be…Obeyed；　and　I　want　to　tell　you　it　chilled　me　to
  the　marrow；　sent　those　little　thrills　Marathoning　up　and　down
  my　spinal　column；　meeting　a　white　woman　out　there　at　the　head
  of　a　tribe　of　savages　a　thousand　miles　the　other　side　of　No
  Man's　Land。
  〃'Stranger；〃　she　said；　'I　reckon　you're　sure　the　first　white
  that　ever　set　foot　in　this　valley。　Set　down　an'　talk　a　spell；
  and　then　we'll　have　a　bite　to　eat。　Which　way　might　you　be
  comin'？'
  〃There　it　was；　that　tang　again。　But　from　now　to　the　end　of　the
  yarn　I　want　you　to　forget　it。　I　tell　you　I　forgot　it；　sitting
  there　on　the　edge　of　that　swan…skin　robe　and　listening　and
  looking　at　the　most　wonderful　woman　that　ever　stepped　out　of
  the　pages　of　Thoreau　or　of　any　other　man's　book