Love　of　Life　and　other　stories
  by　Jack　London
  LOVE　OF　LIFE
  〃This　out　of　all　will　remain　…
  They　have　lived　and　have　tossed：
  So　much　of　the　game　will　be　gain；
  Though　the　gold　of　the　dice　has　been　lost。〃
  THEY　limped　painfully　down　the　bank；　and　once　the　foremost　of　the
  two　men　staggered　among　the　rough…strewn　rocks。　　They　were　tired
  and　weak；　and　their　faces　had　the　drawn　expression　of　patience
  which　comes　of　hardship　long　endured。　　They　were　heavily　burdened
  with　blanket　packs　which　were　strapped　to　their　shoulders。　　Head…
  straps；　passing　across　the　forehead；　helped　support　these　packs。
  Each　man　carried　a　rifle。　　They　walked　in　a　stooped　posture；　the
  shoulders　well　forward；　the　head　still　farther　forward；　the　eyes
  bent　upon　the　ground。
  〃I　wish　we　had　just　about　two　of　them　cartridges　that's　layin'　in
  that　cache　of　ourn；〃　said　the　second　man。
  His　voice　was　utterly　and　drearily　expressionless。　　He　spoke
  without　enthusiasm；　and　the　first　man；　limping　into　the　milky
  stream　that　foamed　over　the　rocks；　vouchsafed　no　reply。
  The　other　man　followed　at　his　heels。　　They　did　not　remove　their
  foot…gear；　though　the　water　was　icy　cold　…　so　cold　that　their
  ankles　ached　and　their　feet　went　numb。　　In　places　the　water　dashed
  against　their　knees；　and　both　men　staggered　for　footing。
  The　man　who　followed　slipped　on　a　smooth　boulder；　nearly　fell；　but
  recovered　himself　with　a　violent　effort；　at　the　same　time　uttering
  a　sharp　exclamation　of　pain。　　He　seemed　faint　and　dizzy　and　put　out
  his　free　hand　while　he　reeled；　as　though　seeking　support　against
  the　air。　　When　he　had　steadied　himself　he　stepped　forward；　but
  reeled　again　and　nearly　fell。　　Then　he　stood　still　and　looked　at
  the　other　man；　who　had　never　turned　his　head。
  The　man　stood　still　for　fully　a　minute；　as　though　debating　with
  himself。　　Then　he　called　out：
  〃I　say；　Bill；　I've　sprained　my　ankle。〃
  Bill　staggered　on　through　the　milky　water。　　He　did　not　look　around。
  The　man　watched　him　go；　and　though　his　face　was　expressionless　as
  ever；　his　eyes　were　like　the　eyes　of　a　wounded　deer。
  The　other　man　limped　up　the　farther　bank　and　continued　straight　on
  without　looking　back。　　The　man　in　the　stream　watched　him。　　His　lips
  trembled　a　little；　so　that　the　rough　thatch　of　brown　hair　which
  covered　them　was　visibly　agitated。　　His　tongue　even　strayed　out　to
  moisten　them。
  〃Bill！〃　he　cried　out。
  It　was　the　pleading　cry　of　a　strong　man　in　distress；　but　Bill's
  head　did　not　turn。　　The　man　watched　him　go；　limping　grotesquely　and
  lurching　forward　with　stammering　gait　up　the　slow　slope　toward　the
  soft　sky…line　of　the　low…lying　hill。　　He　watched　him　go　till　he
  passed　over　the　crest　and　disappeared。　　Then　he　turned　his　gaze　and
  slowly　took　in　the　circle　of　the　world　that　remained　to　him　now
  that　Bill　was　gone。
  Near　the　horizon　the　sun　was　smouldering　dimly；　almost　obscured　by
  formless　mists　and　vapors；　which　gave　an　impression　of　mass　and
  density　without　outline　or　tangibility。　　The　man　pulled　out　his
  watch；　the　while　resting　his　weight　on　one　leg。　　It　was　four
  o'clock；　and　as　the　season　was　near　the　last　of　July　or　first　of
  August；　…　he　did　not　know　the　precise　date　within　a　week　or　two；　…
  he　knew　that　the　sun　roughly　marked　the　northwest。　　He　looked　to
  the　south　and　knew　that　somewhere　beyond　those　bleak　hills　lay　the
  Great　Bear　Lake；　also；　he　knew　that　in　that　direction　the　Arctic
  Circle　cut　its　forbidding　way　across　the　Canadian　Barrens。　　This
  stream　in　which　he　stood　was　a　feeder　to　the　Coppermine　River；
  which　in　turn　flowed　north　and　emptied　into　Coronation　Gulf　and　the
  Arctic　Ocean。　　He　had　never　been　there；　but　he　had　seen　it；　once；
  on　a　Hudson　Bay　Company　chart。
  Again　his　gaze　completed　the　circle　of　the　world　about　him。　　It　was
  not　a　heartening　spectacle。　　Everywhere　was　soft　sky…line。　　The
  hills　were　all　low…lying。　　There　were　no　trees；　no　shrubs；　no
  grasses　…　naught　but　a　tremendous　and　terrible　desolation　that　sent
  fear　swiftly　dawning　into　his　eyes。
  〃Bill！〃　he　whispered；　once　and　twice；　〃Bill！〃
  He　cowered　in　the　midst　of　the　milky　water；　as　though　the　vastness
  were　pressing　in　upon　him　with　overwhelming　force；　brutally
  crushing　him　with　its　complacent　awfulness。　　He　began　to　shake　as
  with　an　ague…fit；　till　the　gun　fell　from　his　hand　with　a　splash。
  This　served　to　rouse　him。　　He　fought　with　his　fear　and　pulled
  himself　together；　groping　in　the　water　and　recovering　the　weapon。
  He　hitched　his　pack　farther　over　on　his　left　shoulder；　so　as　to
  take　a　portion　of　its　weight　from　off　the　injured　ankle。　　Then　he
  proceeded；　slowly　and　carefully；　wincing　with　pain；　to　the　bank。
  He　did　not　stop。　　With　a　desperation　that　was　madness；　unmindful　of
  the　pain；　he　hurried　up　the　slope　to　the　crest　of　the　hill　over
  which　his　comrade　had　disappeared　…　more　grotesque　and　comical　by
  far　than　that　limping；　jerking　comrade。　　But　at　the　crest　he　saw　a
  shallow　valley；　empty　of　life。　　He　fought　with　his　fear　again；
  overcame　it；　hitched　the　pack　still　farther　over　on　his　left
  shoulder；　and　lurched　on　down　the　slope。
  The　bottom　of　the　valley　was　soggy　with　water；　which　the　thick　moss
  held；　spongelike；　close　to　the　surface。　　This　water　squirted　out
  from　under　his　feet　at　every　step；　and　each　time　he　lifted　a　foot
  the　action　culminated　in　a　sucking　sound　as　the　wet　moss
  reluctantly　released　its　grip。　　He　picked　his　way　from　muskeg　to
  muskeg；　and　followed　the　other　man's　footsteps　along　and　across　the
  rocky　ledges　which　thrust　like　islets　through　the　sea　of　moss。
  Though　alone；　he　was　not　lost。　　Farther　on　he　knew　he　would　come　to
  where　dead　spruce　and　fir；　very　small　and　weazened；　bordered　the
  shore　of　a　little　lake；　the　TITCHIN…NICHILIE；　in　the　tongue　of　the
  country；　the　〃land　of　little　sticks。〃　　And　into　that　lake　flowed　a
  small　stream；　the　water　of　which　was　not　milky。　　There　was　rush…
  grass　on　that　stream　…　this　he　remembered　well　…　but　no　timber；　and
  he　would　follow　it　till　its　first　trickle　ceased　at　a　divide。　　He
  would　cross　this　divide　to　the　first　trickle　of　another　stream；
  flowing　to　the　west；　which　he　would　follow　until　it　emptied　into
  the　river　Dease；　and　here　he　would　find　a　cache　under　an　upturned
  canoe　and　piled　over　with　many　rocks。　　And　in　this　cache　would　be
  ammunition　for　his　empty　gun；　fish…hooks　and　lines；　a　small　net　…
  all　the　utilities　for　the　killing　and　snaring　of　food。　　Also；　he
  would　find　flour；　…　not　much；　…　a　piece　of　bacon；　and　some　beans。
  Bill　would　be　waiting　for　him　there；　and　they　would　paddle　away
  south　down　the　Dease　to　the　Great　Bear　Lake。　　And　south　across　the
  lake　they　would　go；　ever　south；　till　they　gained　the　Mackenzie。
  And　south；　still　south；　they　would　go；　while　the　winter　raced
  vainly　after　them；　and　the　ice　formed　in　the　eddies；　and　the　days
  grew　chill　and　crisp；　south　to　some　warm　Hudson　Bay　Company　post；
  where　timber　grew　tall　and　generous　and　there　was　grub　without　end。
  These　were　the　thoughts　of　the　man　as　he　strove　onward。　　But　hard
  as　he　strove　with　his　body；　he　strove　equally　hard　with　his　mind；
  trying　to　think　that　Bill　had　not　deserted　him；　that　Bill　would
  surely　wait　for　him　at　the　cache。　　He　was　compelled　to　think　this
  thought；　or　else　there　would　not　be　any　use　to　strive；　and　he　would
  have　lain　down　and　died。　　And　as　the　dim　ball　of　the　sun　sank
  slowly　into　the　northwest　he　covered　every　inch　…　and　many　times　…
  of　his　and　Bill's　flight　south　before　the　downcoming　winter。　　And
  he　conned　the　grub　of　the　cache　and　the　grub　of　the　Hudson　Bay
  Company　post　over　and　over　again。　　He　had　not　eaten　for　two　days；
  for　a　far　longer　time　he　had　not　had　all　he　wanted　to　eat。　　Often
  he　stooped　and　picked　pale　muskeg　berries；　put　them　into　his　mouth；
  and　chewed　and　swallowed　them。　　A　muskeg　berry　is　a　bit　of　seed
  enclosed　in　a　bit　of　water。　　In　the　mouth　the　water　melts　away　and
  the　seed　chews　sharp　and　bitter。　　The　man　knew　there　was　no
  nourishment　in　the　berries；　but　he　chewed　them　patiently　with　a
  hope　greater　than　knowledge　and　defying　experience。
  At　nine　o'clock　he　stubbed　his　toe　on　a　rocky　ledge；　and　from　sheer
  weariness　and　weakness　staggered　and　fell。　　He　lay　for　some　time；
  without　movement；　on　his　side。　　Then　he　slipped　out　of　the　pack…
  straps　and　clumsily　dragged　himself　into　a　sitting　posture。　　It　was
  not　yet　dark；　and　in　the　lingering　twilight　he　groped　about　among
  the　rocks　for　shreds　of　dry　moss。　　When　he　had　gathered　a　heap　he
  built　a　fire；　…　a　smouldering；　smudgy　fire；　…　and　put　a　tin　pot　of
  water　on　to　boil。
  He　unwrapped　his　pack　and　the　first　thing　he　did　was　to　count　his
  matches。　　There　were　sixty…seven。　　He　counted　them　three　times　to
  make　sure。　　He　divided　them　into　several　portions；　wrapping　them　in
  oil　paper；　disposing　of　one　bunch