XX Tag: Jack London

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Old Baldy

Old Baldy – “I declare! so the deacon’s goin’ to try his hand on Old Baldy, eh?” Jim Wheeler chuckled gleefully at the news, and rubbed his hands. “Wall, mebbe somethin’ ‘ll happen,” he went on, “an mebbe it won’t, but I sha’n’t be a mite s’prised if Old Baldy comes out a-top.”

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A Thousand Deaths

A Thousand Deaths – I had been in the water about an hour, and cold, exhausted, with a terrible cramp in my right calf, it seemed as though my hour had come. Fruitlessly struggling against the strong ebb tide, I had beheld the maddening procession of the water-front lights slip by,

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“Talkin’ of bear—”

The Klondike King paused meditatively, and the group on the hotel porch hitched their chairs up closer.

“Talkin’ of bear,” he went on, “now up in the Northern Country there are various kinds.

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The Law of Life

The Law of Life – Old Koskoosh listened greedily. Though his sight had long since faded, his hearing was still acute, and the slightest sound penetrated to the glimmering intelligence which yet abode behind the withered forehead, but which no longer gazed forth upon the things of the world. Ah! that was Sit-cum-to-ha,

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Up The Slide

Up The Slide – When Clay Dilham left the tent to get a sled-load of fire-wood, he expected to be back in half an hour. So he told Swanson, who was cooking the dinner. Swanson and he belonged to different outfits, located about twenty miles apart on the Stuart River;

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That Dead Men Rise Up Never

That Dead Men Rise Up Never – The month in which my seventeenth birthday arrived I signed on before the mast on the Sophie Sutherland, a three-topmast schooner bound on a seven-months’ seal-hunting cruise to the coast of Japan. We sailed from San Francisco, and immediately I found confronting me a problem of no inconsiderable proportions.

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The Fuzziness of Hoockla-Heen

The Fuzziness of Hoockla-Heen – Hoockla-Heen half-crouched, half-knelt in the tall, dank grass. Not a motion passed over him, yet he had been there a long, long hour. In his hands he held a slender bow, with bone-barbed arrow strung in place; and he would have seemed turned to stone had it not been for the look of eagle alertness in his face.

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The Francis Spaight

The Francis Spaight – The Francis Spaight was running before it solely under a mizzentopsail, when the thing happened. It was not due to carelessness so much as to the lack of discipline of the crew and to the fact that they were indifferent seamen at best.

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The Apostate

The Apostate – “If you don’t git up, Johnny, I won’t give you a bite to eat!”

The threat had no effect on the boy. He clung stubbornly to sleep, fighting for its oblivion as the dreamer fights for his dream. The boy’s hands loosely clenched themselves, and he made feeble, spasmodic blows at the air.

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Nam-Bok, the Unveracious

Nam-Bok, the Unveracious – “A bidarka, is it not so? Look! a bidarka, and one man who drives clumsily with a paddle!”

Old Bask-Wah-Wan rose to her knees, trembling with weakness and eagerness, and gazed out over the sea.

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