"London, Jack - The Son of the Wolf and Other Tales of the North" - читать интересную книгу автора (London Jack)

water- great mountains dance up and down all the time. And so big,
so far, so far away- you travel ten sleep, twenty sleep, forty sleep'-
he graphically enumerated the days on his fingers- 'all the time
water, bad water. Then you come to great village, plenty people,
just the same mosquitoes next summer. Wigwams oh, so high- ten, twenty
pines. Hi-yu skookum!'
He paused impotently, cast an appealing glance at Malemute Kid, then
laboriously placed the twenty pines, end on end, by sign language.
Malemute Kid smiled with cheery cynicism; but Ruth's eyes were wide
with wonder, and with pleasure; for she half believed he was joking,
and such condescension pleased her poor woman's heart.
'And then you step into a- a box, and pouf! up you go.' He tossed
his empty cup in the air by way of illustration and, as he deftly
caught it, cried: 'And biff! down you come. Oh, great medicine men!
You go Fort Yukon. I go Arctic City- twenty-five sleep- big string,
all the time- I catch him string- I say, "Hello, Ruth! How are ye?"-
and you say, "Is that my good husband?"- and I say, "Yes"- and you
say, "No can bake good bread, no more soda"- then I say, "Look in
cache, under flour; good-by." You look and catch plenty soda. All
the time you Fort Yukon, me Arctic City. Hi-yu medicine man!'
Ruth smiled so ingenuously at the fairy story that both men burst
into laughter. A row among the dogs cut short the wonders of the
Outside, and by the time the snarling combatants were separated, she
had lashed the sleds and all was ready for the trail.

'Mush! Baldy! Hi! Mush on!' Mason worked his whip smartly and, as
the dogs whined low in the traces, broke out the sled with the gee
pole. Ruth followed with the second team, leaving Malemute Kid, who
had helped her start, to bring up the rear. Strong man, brute that
he was, capable of felling an ox at a blow, he could not bear to
beat the poor animals, but humored them as a dog driver rarely does-
nay, almost wept with them in their misery.
'Come, mush on there, you poor sore-footed brutes!' he murmured,
after several ineffectual attempts to start the load. But his patience
was at last rewarded, and though whimpering with pain, they hastened
to join their fellows.
No more conversation; the toil of the trail will not permit such
extravagance. And of all deadening labors, that of the Northland trail
is the worst. Happy is the man who can weather a day's travel at the
price of silence, and that on a beaten track.
And of all heartbreaking labors, that of breaking trail is the
worst. At every step the great webbed shoe sinks till the snow is
level with the knee. Then up, straight up, the deviation of a fraction
of an inch being a certain precursor of disaster, the snowshoe must be
lifted till the surface is cleared; then forward, down, and the
other foot is raised perpendicularly for the matter of half a yard. He
who tries this for the first time, if haply he avoids bringing his
shoes in dangerous propinquity and measures not his length on the
treacherous footing, will give up exhausted at the end of a hundred
yards; he who can keep out of the way of the dogs for a whole day