He saw in them the
brotherhood of man and beast. It was splendid. It was epic. And to
this the Law had driven them!
His eyes began to take in the sledge then. On it was a roll of
bear skins--Bram's blankets. One was the skin of a polar bear.
Near these skins were the haunches of caribou meat, and so close
to him that he might have reached out and touched it was Bram's
club. At the side of the club lay a rifle. It was of the old
breech-loading, single-shot type, and Philip wondered why Bram had
destroyed his own modern weapon instead of keeping it in place of
this ancient Company relic. It also made him think of night before
last, when he had chosen for his refuge a tree out in the
starlight.
The club, even more than the rifle, bore marks of use. It was of
birch, and three feet in length. Where Bram's hand gripped it the
wood was worn as smooth and dark as mahogany. In many places the
striking end of the club was dented as though it had suffered the
impact of tremendous blows, and it was discolored by suggestive
stains.
Pages:
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91