One Man's Wilderness: An Alaskan Odyssey by Sam Keith
By Sam Keith
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Additional info for One Man's Wilderness: An Alaskan Odyssey
June 3rd. I am ready for the eave logs and the gables. I marked out the windows and door and will cut far enough into each log so that once the eave logs are on, I can get the saw back through to finish the cutting. The gables and the roof have occupied much of my thoughts lately. Up to this point my line level tells me the sides and ends are on the money. The course logs were selected carefully, and I have done the hewing necessary to keep the opposite sides level as the cabin grows. Five logs were very special.
We’re nothing but brute with a little veneer, And nature is best after all. There’s tumult and terror abroad in the street; There’s menace and doom in the air; I’ve got to get back to my thousand mile beat; The trail where the cougar and silvertip meet; The snows and the campfire, with wolves at my feet . . Goodbye, for it’s safer up there. From “Rhymes of a Rolling Stone,” by Robert W. Service. Reprinted by permission of Dodd Mead and Company, from the collected poems of Robert Service. CHAPTER ONE Going In I recognized the scrawl.
I thumped its head with a stone, and it shuddered out straight. As I dressed it out, I examined its stomach. Not a thing in it. It is always interesting to see what a fish has been eating. Several times I have found mice in the stomachs of lake trout and arctic char. Now how does a mouse get himself into a jackpot like that? Does he fall in by accident, or does he venture for a swim? Tough to be a mouse in this country. From the air, the land, and the water his enemies wait to strike. On the way back to the cabin, I repaired the log bridge over Hope Creek.