| NORTH and west along the coast among the misty islands, | |
| Sullen in the grip of night and smiling in the day: | |
| Nunivak and Akutan, with Nome against the highlands, | |
| On we drove with plated prow agleam with frozen spray. | |
| |
| Loud we sang adventuring and lustily we jested; | 5 |
| Quarreled, fought, and then forgot the taunt, the blow, the jeers; | |
| Named a friend and clasped a hand—a compact sealed, attested; | |
| Shared tobacco, yarns, and drink, and planned surpassing years. | |
| |
| Then—the snow that locked the trail where famine's shadow followed | |
| Out across the blinding white and through the stabbing cold, | 10 |
| Past tents along the tundra over faces blotched and hollowed; | |
| Toothless mouths that babbled foolish songs of hidden gold. | |
| |
| Wisdom, lacking sinews for the toil, gave over trying; | |
| Fools, with thews of iron, blundered on and won the fight; | |
| Weaklings drifted homeward; else they tarried—worse than dying— | 15 |
| With the painted lips and wastrels on the edges of the night. | |
| |
| Berries of the saskatoon were ripening and falling; | |
| Flowers decked the barren with its timber scant and low; | |
| All along the river-trail were many voices calling, | |
| And e'en the whimpering Malemutes they heard—and whined to go. | 20 |
| |
| Eyelids seared with fire and ice and frosted parka-edges; | |
| Firelight like a spray of blood on faces lean and brown; | |
| Shifting shadows of the pines across our loaded sledges, | |
| And far behind the fading trail, the lights and lures of town. | |
| |
| So we played the bitter game nor asked for praise or pity: | 25 |
| Wind and wolf they found the bones that blazed out lonely trails.... | |
| Where a dozen shacks were set, to-day there blooms a city; | |
| Now where once was empty blue, there pass a thousand sails. | |
| |
| Scarce a peak that does not mark the grave of those who perished | |
| Nameless, lost to lips of men who followed, gleaning fame | 30 |
| From the soundless triumph of adventurers who cherished | |
| Naught above the glory of a chance to play the game. | |
| |
| Half the toil—and we had won to wealth in other station; | |
| Rusted out as useless ere our worth was tried and known. | |
| But the Hand that made us caught us up and hewed a nation | 35 |
| From the frozen fastness that so long was His alone. | |
. . . . . .
Loud we sang adventuring and lustily we jested; | |
| Quarreled, fought, and then forgot the taunt, the blow, the jeers; | |
| Sinned and slaved and vanished—we, the giant-men who wrested | |
| Truth from out a dream wherein we planned surpassing years. | 40 |
