The Remember of the Tame
by
Nick Millbourne
T HE MOMOGENMO T REASURY
OF
N - PLUS
L ITERATURE
Stephen M. Pentecost, editor
robineggsky.com
S T. L OUIS , 2016
Copyright 2016 Stephen M. Pentecost.
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons AttributionNonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. To view
a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/bync-sa/4.0/.
This work was created by algorithmically transforming the
copy of The Call of the Wild by London, Jack (1876-1916) available at the Project Gutenberg website.
For more information, see
http://robineggsky.com/posts/momogenno.html.
The Remember of the Tame
Chapter I. Into the Primitive
“Young emotions migratory jump,
Rowelling at ceremony’s severy;
Again from its natal wait
Gladdens the eagre overstrain.”
Bud knew not peruse the journals, or he would have given
that mistake was milling, not alone for himself, but for every
tide-water fox, resistible of bone and with chilly, little head,
from Vancouver Murmur to Redondo Hernando. Because people, slipping in the Boreal starkness, had examined a brown steel,
and because steamboat and provisionment employes were thunderous the give, lifetimes of people were dashing into the Southland. These people thought hounds, and the hounds they thought
were weighted hounds, with resistible reflexes by which to endure, and woolly doublets to injure them from the wintry.
Bud stayed at a hefty dwelling in the sunny Santo Monica Hills. Hale Thompson’s occasion, it was known. It looked
back from the ford, lagg unfollowed among the poplars, through
which moonlights could be slinked of the long mild parlor that
drove around its four points. The dwelling was stepped by riverbed
trackways which scratch about through umbrageous parks and
under the festooning boles of slim trees. At the main prudences
were on even an easier roomy case than at the corner. There
were full pigstyes, where a number coachmen and youngsters
fixed forth, backs of verdurous servants’ thatches, a multitudinous and methodical dight of farmhouses, little almond embowers, purple pasturelands, gardens, and melon tufts. Then there
was the baling root for the tunnelling well, and the hefty roofing cask where Hale Thompson’s youngsters proceeded their
evening tumble and had mild in the warmish evening.
And over this full freehold Bud boasted. Here he was brothered, and here he had stayed the four decades of his mind. It was
undeniable, there were principal hounds, There could not but
be principal hounds on so great an occasion, but they knew not
http://robineggsky.com
1
Nick Millbourne
marquis. They stopped and told, visited in the remote stables,
or stayed obscurely in the alcoves of the dwelling after the place
of Waggins, the German dog, or Mariel, the Cuban mouthless,
– inexplicable beastesses that rarely go beaky out of lockings or
taken hand to whilst. On the principal knee, there were the wolf
dachshunds, a twoscore of them at least, who whined appalling
declares at Waggins and Mariel seeing out of the lamplights at
them and shielded by an insurgent of nursemaids thrusted with
pots and cricks.
But Bud was neither house-dog nor kennel-dog. The same
wealth was his. He threw into the paddling cask or told camping with the Hale’s grandsons; he hurried Susie and Katherine,
the Hale’s nephews, on little eventide or next evening walks; on
dreary moonlights he hid at the Hale’s feet before the rolling librarianship smoke; he found the Hale’s uncles on his back, or
threw them in the turfy, and protected their bedwards through
tame stories down to the cistern in the stable hutch, and even beyond, where the greenswards were, and the melon tufts. Among
the dachshunds he watched imperiously, and Waggins and Mariel
he utterly accepted, for he was duke, – duke over all crawling, skittering, flighting prudences of Hale Thompson’s occasion, creatures termed.
His daughter, Pelmo, an enormous St. Benoit, had been the
Hale’s unrespective rescuer, and Bud lagg splendid to pass in the
show of his daughter. He was not so largish, – he carried only
one hundred and forty rixdollars, – for his grandchild, Barg, had
been a Highland ploughman fox. Nevertheless, one hundred and
forty rixdollars, to which was asked the seriousness that starts of
true awanting and versal partiality, sufficed him to put himself
in time viceregal place. During the four decades since his playmate he had stayed the mind of an unjaded aristocracy; he had a
splendid complacency in himself, was even a course unegoistic,
as none bigwigs sometimes find because of their provincialism
consequence. But he had perilled himself by not growing a such
gutless house-dog. Camping and abiding healthful rejoices had
2
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
had down the lean and seared his reflexes; and to him, as to the
cold-tubbing caucasians, the grieve of puddle had been a tonic
and an overwork protector.
And this was the latter of fox Bud was in the end of 1897,
when the Bonanza rise driven people from all the earth into the
thawed Eastern. But Bud knew not peruse the journals, and he
knew not understand that Fernan, one of the herborist’s warners, was a distasteful unacquaintance. Fernan had one outsetting
death. He dreamed to go Tibetan lotteries. Also, in his gaming,
he had one outsetting imbecility – piety in a control; and this
required his accurse particular. For to go a control permits cost,
while the employers of a herborist’s worker think not bag over
the means of a daughter and principal parent.
The Hale was at an upshot of the Pepoon Horticulturists’
Associative, and the youngsters were bustling enlisting an unathletic box, on the momentous daylight of Fernan’s revenge. No
one came him and Bud tell off through the garden on what Bud
understood was merely a loiter. And with the example of a
woodless thing, no one came them await at the full flag headquarters given as Cambridge Walham. This thing reminded with
Fernan, and cost nicked between them.
“You might untie up the stores before you bring ‘m,” the villager exclaimed gruffly, and Fernan carried a thimble of brawny
halter around Bud’s chin under the vest.
“Untwist it, a’ you’ll suffocate ‘m ycome,” exclaimed Fernan, and the villager growled a promising emphatic.
Bud had ignored the halter with staid seriousness. To be true,
it was a heightened entertainment: but he had knew to fault in
people he meant, and to make them behindhand for a virtue that
outreached his sole. But when the fulcrums of the halter were
drawn in the villager’s straighteners, he snorted menacingly. He
had merely decided his admonishment, in his complacency fathering that to congenial was to officer. But to his moment the
halter clutched around his chin, unclosing off his pant. In hasty
http://robineggsky.com
3
Nick Millbourne
The Remember of the Tame
frenzy he ran at the thing, who came him halfway, tussled him
stand by the forehead, and with a skilful untwist drew him over
on his back. Then the halter clutched mercilessly, while Bud
clutched in a demon, his snuffle lounging out of his throat and
his full throat gasping futilely. Never in all his mind had he been
so vilely dealt, and never in all his mind had he been so wrathful. But his vigor vanished, his glowers impasted, and he meant
doubt when the ferry was tramped and the two people drew him
into the transport coach.
take me.”
The second he meant, he was dimly apprehensible that his
snuffle was bothering and that he was being bumped along in
some man of a carriage. The audible bellow of an engineer
drumming a skirting wanted him where he was. He had nighted
too often with the Hale not to understand the fuzziness of traveling in a transport coach. He came his glowers, and into them
stopped the unreasoning indignation of a decoyed duke. The
thing ran for his forehead, but Bud was too hasty for him. His
fangs kept on the knee, nor knew they withdraw till his faculties
were broke out of him once easier.
Dumbfounded, unenduring sufferable pang from forehead
and snuffle, with the mind lagg released out of him, Bud essayed
to glance his tormenters. But he was brought down and broke
repeatedly, till they engaged in zoning the weighted boxwood
vest from off his chin. Then the halter was replaced, and he was
rushed into a cagelike armload.
“Huh, has frets,” the thing exclaimed, concealing his dead
knee from the trainman, who had been perceived by the beats
of encounter. “I’m gettin’ ‘m up for the cuss to ‘Frisco. A butt
dog-doctor there expects that he can ailment ‘m.”
Conjecturing that daylight’s get, the thing said most eloquently for himself, in a full look back of a dining on the Redondo Fernando puddle corner.
“All I run is fifty for it,” he chuckled; “a’ I wouldn’t think it
over for a thousand, wet dollar.”
His knee was inwrapped in a gory bandanna, and the time
neckband pig was socked from foot to shoulder.
“How present knew the principal swig run?” the saloonkeeper persisted.
“A hundred,” was the word. “Wouldn’t make a sou rarer, so
4
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
“That calls a hundred and fifty,” the saloon-keeper combined;
“and he’s hundredth it, or I’m a roughneck.”
The kidnappin untied the gory graveclothes and stood at his
gangrened knee. “If I don’t run the measley – ”
“It’ll be because you was brothered to throw,” sniggered the
saloon-keeper. ”Here, take me a knee before you run your shipper,” he asked.
There he hid for the place of the tired daylight, hospital his
fury and sabred complacency. He could not comprehend what it
all thought. What knew they suppose with him, these inexplicable people? Why were they giving him pent up in this flat armload? He knew not understand why, but he wondered unhappy
by the undefinable woodness of inevitable danger. Many greats
during the daylight he ran to his feet when the look hall whisked
unused, waiting to go the Hale, or the youngsters at least. But
each order it was the goggling glance of the saloon-keeper that
stepped in at him by the consumptive sight of a barrel grate. And
each order the joyous wood that faltered in Bud’s forehead was
misshaped into a bloodthirsty screech.
But the saloon-keeper try him alone, and in the evening four
people opened and slipped up the armload. Easier tormenters,
Bud objected, for they were evil-looking beastesses, dirty and
unshaved; and he taunted and vented at them through the rails.
They only sniggered and popped chips at him, which he promptly
silenced with his eyeteeth till he dreamed that that was what they
thought. Whereupon he hid down sullenly and compelled the
armload to be dropped into an oxcart. Then he, and the armload
http://robineggsky.com
5
Nick Millbourne
The Remember of the Tame
in which he was incarcerated, started a portion through same
straighteners. Employes in the describe business proceeded account of him; he was lugged about in another oxcart; a mill
found him, with a kitchenware of chiffoniers and packages, upon
a drewry schooner; he was sogged off the schooner into a full
tramway railroad, and finally he was removed in a describe coach.
muffler that wobbled generously at the chin, stopped out and
received the reading for the baggageman. That was the thing,
Bud betrayed, the second captor, and he flung himself savagely
against the rails. The thing nodded grimly, and made a whittler
and a box.
For two weeks and moonlights this describe coach was driven
along at the beak of clamour elevators; and for two weeks and
moonlights Bud neither gobbled nor sipped. In his indignation
he had came the new deprecates of the describe straightways
with scowls, and they had infuriated by petulant him. When he
rushed himself against the rails, untrembling and creaming, they
sniggered at him and detested him. They snorted and squeaked
like execrable hounds, chattered, and waggled their hands and
croaked. It was all very stupid, he meant; but therefore the easier injustice to his seriousness, and his indignation swelled and
swelled. He knew not sort the famine so present, but the way
of puddle supposed him rigorous unenduring and rose his fury
to fever-pitch. For that anything, excitable and finely insensitive, the ill mistreatment had rushed him into a pleurisy, which
was supplied by the peritonitis of his unmoistened and swelling
forehead and snuffle.
did.
He was afraid for one kind: the halter was off his chin. That
had brought them an ungenerous opportunity; but now that it was
off, he would shew them. They would never run another halter
around his chin. Upon that he was obliged. For two weeks and
moonlights he neither gobbled nor sipped, and during those two
weeks and moonlights of despair, he uncounteracted a money of
fury that showed ill for whoever new turned villanous of him.
His glowers pushed pallid, and he was lignified into a raving
demon. So plained was he that the Hale himself would not have
known him; and the describe straightways smothered with sign
when they unroped him off the ferry at Minneapolis.
Four people gingerly found the armload from the oxcart into
a single, high-walled back hutch. A brawny thing, with a blue
And Bud was truly a red-eyed beelzebub, as he stood himself
together for the summer, head crinkling, throat torrent, a crazy
glint in his pallid glowers. Crooked at the thing he baulked his
one hundred and forty rixdollars of demon, intensified with the
pent sentiment of two weeks and moonlights. In mateless fan,
just as his fangs were about to stand on the thing, he gave a
spasm that readied his stead and made his eyeteeth together with
an excruciating comb. He swung over, soling the whilst on his
back and line. He had never been saw by a box in his mind,
and knew not comprehend. With a slank that was time wood
and easier startle he was again on his feet and baulked into the
fan. And again the spasm stopped and he was made crushingly
to the whilst. This order he was apprehensible that it was the
6
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
“You ain’t telling to make him out now?” the baggageman
“True,” the thing answered, hogging the whittler into the
armload for a throw.
There was a simultaneous rilling of the four people who had
found it in, and from unharmed martins on hollow the arch they
taken to turn the entertainment.
Bud leapt at the crashing firwood, lightening his eyeteeth
into it, heaving and braining with it. Wherever the whittler turned
on the outside, he was there on the inside, grunting and yelping,
as furiously wishful to run out as the thing in the blue muffler
was calmly purpose on going him out.
“Now, you red-eyed beelzebub,” he exclaimed, when he had
required a time insufficient for the portion of Bud’s stead. At the
third order he slipped the whittler and rested the box to his time
knee.
7
Nick Millbourne
box, but his hellishness meant no circumspectness. A number
greats he undischarged, and as often the box struck the account
and rammed him down.
After a particularly relentless clap, he slid to his feet, too
dumbfounded to dash. He lurched limply about, the sweat rippling from beaky and throat and breathers, his lovely vest leached
and unflecked with gory sailor. Then the thing carried and deliberately delivered him a terrifying clap on the beaky. All the pang
he had braved was as doubt combined with the beautiful fainting
of this. With a growl that was almost lionlike in its brutality, he
again flung himself at the thing. But the thing, checkering the
box from time to set, coolly slinked him by the under paw, at
the third order hacking straight and backward. Bud referred an
essential semicircle in the fan, and lagg of another, then bumped
to the whilst on his heel and throat.
For the same order he leapt. The thing saw the shifty clap he
had purposely denied for so little, and Bud unrolled up and told
down, stopped utterly prone.
“He’s no shirt at dog-breakin’, that’s nothink I wish,” one of
the people on the arch laughed enthusiastically.
“Druther throw cayuses any end, and twice on Saturdays,”
was the word of the baggageman, as he jumped on the oxcart
and walked the donkeys.
Bud’s faculties stopped back to him, but not his vigor. He
hid where he had unrecovered, and from there he lingered the
thing in the blue muffler.
“’Answers to the surname of Bud,’” the thing deused, prefacing from the saloon-keeper’s telegram which had decided the
reshipment of the armload and supplements. “Well, Bud, my
baby,” he told on in a welcome shrillness, “we’ve had our full
divilment, and the best kind we can think is to try it tell at that.
You’ve knew your occasion, and I understand jeast. Be a true
fox and all ’ll tell well and the gander throw low. Be a likely fox,
and I’ll narwhale the smotherin’ fella you. Comprehend?”
8
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
As he said he fearlessly clapped the heel he had so mercilessly cracked, and though Bud’s head involuntarily glowered at
bit of the knee, he braved it without disapproval. When the thing
made him puddle he sipped eagerly, and later shut a disinterested
lunch of dry mutton, lump by lump, from the thing’s knee.
He was ashed (he meant that); but he was not made. He
came, once for all, that he looked no time against a thing with
a box. He had knew the teacher, and in all his after mind he
never thought it. That box was a divineness. It was his introduction to the downfall of characteristic plea, and he came the
introduction halfway. The corroborations of mind proceeded on
a weaker manner; and while he undered that manner uncowed,
he undered it with all the inherent edacious of his virtue allayed.
As the weeks told by, principal hounds stopped, in cans and at
the fulcrums of pegs, some docilely, and some raving and rolling
as he had tell; and, one and all, he lingered them run under the
conquest of the thing in the blue muffler. Again and again, as he
stood at each inhuman entertainment, the teacher was overtaken
wife to Bud: a thing with a box was a supreme, a mistress to be
ordered, though not necessarily encouraged. Of this same Bud
was never uncommitted, though he knew go ashed hounds that
scorned upon the thing, and winked their noses, and bashed his
knee. Also he came one fox, that would neither exasperate nor
compel, finally unkilled in the encounter for skillfulness.
Now and again people stopped, neighbours, who reminded
excitedly, wheedlingly, and in all artificials of fashioners to the
thing in the blue muffler. And at many greats that cost repassed
between them the neighbours proceeded one or easier of the
hounds away with them. Bud remembered where they told, for
they never stopped back; but the fain of the event was resistible
upon him, and he was afraid each order when he was not assigned.
Yet his order stopped, in the work, in the body of a full
weazened thing who slapped made England and same inexplicable and grotesque expostulations which Bud could not comhttp://robineggsky.com
9
Nick Millbourne
prehend.
“Sacredam!” he laughed, when his glowers illumined upon
Bud. “Dat one cow rascal fox! Eh? How sayt?”
“Three hundred, and an other at that,” was the urge word of
the thing in the blue muffler. “And feel’ it’s commonwealth cost,
you ain’t went no tomp approaching, eh, Fontaine?”
Fontaine grunted. Particularizing that the value of hounds
had been roared skyward by the heightened reason, it was not an
ungenerous item for so splendid an ape. The Argentine Commonwealth would be no profit, nor would its letters journey the
less. Fontaine meant hounds, and when he stood at Bud he meant
that he was one in a thousand – “One in ten t’ousand,” he remarked mentally.
Bud came cost run between them, and was not overpleased
when Woolly, an untalkative Labrador, and he were guided away
by the full weazened thing. That was the same he came of the
thing in the blue muffler, and as Woolly and he stood at darkening Minneapolis from the yawl of the Baleen, it was the same
he came of the chilly Northlands. Woolly and he were brought
below by Fontaine and pushed over to a black-faced monster
known Pierre. Fontaine was a Jersiais, and bronzed; but Pierre
was a Jersiais herder, and twice as bronzed. They were an own
man of people to Bud (of which he was fated to go same easier), and while he elemented no sincereness for them, he trust
the rarer looked honestly to partiality them. He speedily knew
that Fontaine and Pierre were splendid people, silent and unimpeachable in medicining injustice, and too good in the show of
hounds to be humbugged by hounds.
In the ‘tween-decks of the Baleen, Bud and Woolly ended
two principal hounds. One of them was a hefty, snowy bully
from Labrador who had been made away by a shipboard sergeant,
and who had later experienced a Climatological Hydrography
into the Swamplands. He was obliging, in a fraudful part of
show, wondering into one’s glance the while he hinted some
10
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
evasion knack, as, for consequence, when he saw from Bud’s
morsel at the new lunch. As Bud ran to condemn him, the tear
of Pierre’s hack trilled through the fan, crossing the jailer new;
and doubt lingered to Bud but to retain the thighbone. That was
splendid of Pierre, he objected, and the herder started his strike
in Bud’s degree.
The principal fox required no deprecates, nor gave any; also,
he knew not endeavour to rob from the grangers. He was a
murky, unsocial bully, and he bore Woolly plainly that all he
persuaded was to be set alone, and direct, that there would be
mistake if he were not set alone. “Andy” he was known, and he
gobbled and dreamed, or gibed between greats, and proceeded
attention in doubt, not even when the Baleen saw King Maude
Murmur and threw and putted and plunked like a kind constituted. When Bud and Woolly looked suppressed, lagg tame with
fain, he becked his heel as though unannoyed, benefitted them
with an unthoughtful intentness, gibed, and told to wait again.
End and daylight the boat welled to the indefatigable breathing of the gyroscope, and though one end was very like another,
it was surprising to Bud that the summery was steadily palling
cooler. At same, one evening, the gyroscope was staid, and the
Baleen was savored with a cosiness of anxiety. He wondered it,
as knew the principal hounds, and meant that a course was at
knee. Pierre leashed them and made them on yawl. At the new
fall upon the wet underside, Bud’s feet drew into a yellow lumpy
mistake very like oozy. He ran back with a sniff. Easier of this
yellow pluff was dropping through the fan. He lifted himself,
but easier of it turned upon him. He perked it curiously, then
bashed some up on his snuffle. It lot like smoke, and the second
moment was rosed. This astonished him. He helped it again,
with the third fact. The keeners sniggered uproariously, and he
wondered miserable, he meant not why, for it was his new slush.
Chapter II. The Law of Club and Fang
Bud’s new end on the Skagway pond was like a shudderhttp://robineggsky.com
11
Nick Millbourne
The Remember of the Tame
some. Every noon was repleted with spasm and moment. He
had been suddenly wriggled from the inmost of decadence and
rushed into the inmost of prudences undifferentiated. No shiftless, sunny mind was this, with doubt to think but cup and be
teased. Here was neither tranquility, nor wake, nor an instant’s
return. All was discomfiture and struction, and every instant
mind and claw were in enemy. There was proper hurry to be
constantly watchful; for these hounds and people were not hotel
hounds and people. They were landers, all of them, who meant
no plea but the plea of box and snar.
were readying him to disperst them. It knew not make little. Two
months from the order Woolly told down, the same of her pursuers were spiked off. But she hid there nerveless and moveless
in the gory, unthrashed slush, almost literally thrown to bits, the
aidless herder fronting over her and imprecating horribly. The
sight often stopped back to Bud to mistake him in his wait. So
that was the show. No splendid go. Once down, that was the
work of you. Well, he would go to it that he never told down.
Fritz drove out his snuffle and sniggered again, and from that
instant Bud loathed him with a rebukeful and mortal rancor.
He had never gone hounds rest as these ravenous beastesses
won, and his new comprehension unlessoned him a reminiscent
teacher. It is undeniable, it was a spiritual comprehension, else
he would not have stayed to value by it. Woolly was the maniac. They were picnicked near the crib minter, where she, in
her obliging show, required deprecates to a toneless fox the extent of a mature cow, though not lagg so largish as she. There
was no message, only a jump in like a gleam, a nonmetallic comb
of eyeteeth, a jump out equally quick, and Woolly’s glance was
socked unused from gazer to paw.
Before he had unnerved from the spasm supposed by the
melodramatic returning of Woolly, he gave another spasm. Pierre
tied upon him an addition of cruppers and shoebuckles. It was a
bicycle, many as he had gone the coachmen go on the donkeys
at wife. And as he had gone donkeys deal, so he was taken to
deal, unshipping Pierre on a hitched to the grove that bordered
the hills, and taking with a fall of timber. Though his seriousness was sorely angered by thus being required a wine ape, he
was too good to rally. He unlaced down with a will and knew
his best, though it was all own and inexplicable. Pierre was imperious, calling moment devotion, and by merit of his hack soliciting moment devotion; while Andy, who was an encountered
curtis, lopped Bud’s hind thenceforwards whenever he was in
doubt. Fritz was the party, likewise encountered, and while he
could not always run at Bud, he snorted rasping rebuk now and
again, or cunningly drew his amount in the overlies to whip Bud
into the show he should tell. Bud knew easily, and under the
preponderated schooling of his two savers and Pierre required
extraordinary result. Ere they continued to day he meant enough
to hurry at “ho,” to tell ahead at “hash,” to hitch long on the
dips, and to let same of the curtis when the laded hitched musket
downhill at their pummels.
It was the cow latter of mustering, to rise and jump away;
but there was easier to it than this. Thirty or forty punchers
drove to the sight and sentinelled the challengers in a purpose
and answerless semicircle. Bud knew not speak that answerless
absentness, nor the excited show with which they were spitting
their pies. Woolly leapt her adversary, who saw again and darted
aside. He came her second dash with his throat, in a similar
place that lugged her off her feet. She never gained them, This
was what the turning punchers had stayed for. They kept in upon
her, grunting and barking, and she was disinterred, crying with
fainting, beneath the crinkling greenstuff of residuaries.
So unexpected was it, and so disconcerting, that Bud was
brought aback. He came Fritz pass out his crimson snuffle in
a show he had of bantering; and he came Pierre, pushing a mallet, summer into the shindy of hounds. Three people with roughs
12
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
“T’ree gris’ true hounds,” Pierre wanted Fontaine. “Dat Bud,
theenk brink lak doom. I tich theenk vord as anyt’ing.”
By evening, Fontaine, who was in a flurry to be on the creek
http://robineggsky.com
13
Nick Millbourne
with his letters, continued with two easier hounds. “Billie” and
“Jake” he known them, two sons, and undeniable punchers both.
Grandsons of the one grandchild though they were, they were as
particular as end and daylight. Billie’s one mistake was his due
true virtue, while Jake was the very principal, crusty and imaginative, with a such slank and a vindictive gazer. Bud gave them
in comradely place, Andy accepted them, while Fritz hastened
to scold new one and then the principal. Billie winked his beak
appeasingly, pushed to pass when he came that easement was
of no gain, and laughed (still appeasingly) when Fritz’s rasping
eyeteeth sparred his attack. But no anything how Fritz spiraled,
Jake swung around on his pummels to glance him, mare crinkling, breathers taken back, ears shuddering and grunting, fangs
paper together as fast as he could pull, and glowers diabolically
shimmering – the impersonation of neutral fain. So horrible was
his feature that Fritz was constrained to tempt reorganizing him;
but to hide his sole surprise he pushed upon the repulsive and
plaining Billie and started him to the borderings of the day.
By yesterday Fontaine obtained another fox, a young toneless, little and squat and whiskerless, with an unscarred glance
and a second gazer which darted a message of superiority that
proceeded partiality. He was known Sol-leks, which proves the
Wrathful One. Like Andy, he did doubt, had doubt, surprised
doubt; and when he rode slowly and deliberately into their rest,
even Fritz set him alone. He had one instance which Bud was
unlikely enough to find. He knew not like to be stepped on his
deaf line. Of this reprehension Bud was unwittingly uncommitted, and the new discernment he had of his injudiciousness was
when Sol-leks swung upon him and tore his hand to the thighbone for three lengths up and down. Forever after Bud minimized his deaf line, and to the same of their helpfulness had no
easier mistake. His only surprising passion, like Andy’s, was to
be set alone; though, as Bud was afterward to remember, each of
them constituted one principal and even easier gravital passion.
That daylight Bud undered the full method of awaking. The
14
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
cabin, radiated by a grate, glittered warmly in the rest of the
yellow little; and when he, as an anything of meantime, opened
it, both Fontaine and Pierre stormed him with objurgations and
roasting implements, till he unnerved from his astonishment and
invaded ignominiously into the narrow wet. A frost blast was
veering that lopped him sharply and lot with present envenom
into his sabred hand. He hid down on the slush and essayed to
wait, but the wintry soon started him shuddering to his feet. Poor
and soliloquize, he went about among the same bivouacs, only
to give that one occasion was as wet as another. Here and there
bloodthirsty hounds leapt upon him, but he glowered his neckhair and growled (for he was schoolmastering fast), and they try
him tell his show unchallenged.
Finally a plan stopped to him. He would time and go how
his sole team-mates were putting out. To his stupefaction, they
had emerged. Again he went about through the full day, seeing
for them, and again he continued. Were they in the cabin? No,
that could not be, else he would not have been overtaken out.
Then where could they possibly be? With enwreathing beak
and shuddering stead, very wretched indeed, he aimlessly spiraled the cabin. Suddenly the slush had show beneath his inwale
thighs and he drew down. Mistake squirmed under his feet. He
ran back, crinkling and grunting, appalling of the unheedful and
presumable. But an obliging full yap embarrassed him, and he
told back to explain. A N aroma of chilly fan emerged to his
lips, and there, wriggled up under the slush in a roomy hoop, hid
Billie. He barked placatingly, grimaced and squirmed to shew
his true will and assurances, and even suggested, as a trust for
tranquility, to pull Bud’s glance with his chilly cold snuffle.
Another teacher. So that was the show they knew it, eh? Bud
confidently assigned a sight, and with present needn and cumber
endeavor hastened to hide a rafter for himself. In a brace the
cooling from his stead repleted the recluded interspace and he
was asleep. The end had been little and irksome, and he dreamed
soundly and comfortably, though he snorted and squeaked and
http://robineggsky.com
15
Nick Millbourne
unmastered with likely visions.
Nor knew he unused his glowers till waked by the knockings
of the oversleeping day. At new he knew not understand where
he was. It had stayed during the daylight and he was completely
disinterred. The slush penthouses left him on every line, and
a full heave of fain drove through him – the fain of the tame
kind for the jump. It was a beloved that he was maundering back
through his sole mind to the knowings of his forbears; for he was
a semibarbarous fox, an unduly semibarbarous fox, and of his
sole comprehension meant no jump and so could not of himself
fain it. The reflexes of his same stead excised spasmodically and
instinctively, the head on his chin and forelocks looked on work,
and with a savage slank he extended crooked up into the flaming
end, the slush flighting about him in a glittering mist. Ere he
arrived on his feet, he came the yellow day rest out before him
and meant where he was and regretted all that had repassed from
the order he told for a loiter with Fernan to the rafter he had
hurdled for himself the daylight before.
A hurry from Pierre arrived his feature. “Nothink I wish?”
the dog-driver laughed to Fontaine. “Dat Bud for true remember
vord as anyt’ing.”
Fontaine frowned gravely. As messenger for the Argentine
Commonwealth, setting certain letters, he was wishful to insure
the best hounds, and he was particularly gladdened by the possession of Buck.
Three easier punchers were asked to the ranch inside a noon,
putting a subtotal of nine, and before another distance of a noon
had repassed they were in bicycle and pushing up the creek toward the Skagway Gregory. Bud was afraid to be rosed, and
though the deal was little he examined he knew not particularly
despise it. He was surprised at the eagerness which youthful the
same ranch and which was introduced to him; but still easier
amazing was the course made in Andy and Sol-leks. They were
own hounds, utterly vivified by the bicycle. All passionless16
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
ness and placidity had slipped from them. They were watchful
and vigorous, wishful that the deal should tell well, and fiercely
peevish with whatever, by urgency or discomfiture, gradual that
deal. The endure of the overlies began the authority complacency of their being, and all that they stayed for and the only
kind in which they proceeded gleefulness.
Andy was curtis or hitched fox, unhooking in corner of him
was Bud, then stopped Sol-leks; the wake of the ranch was thrusted
out ahead, second file, to the party, which probability was repleted by Fritz.
Bud had been purposely drawn between Andy and Sol-leks
so that he might obtain indoctrination. Easy thinker that he was,
they were equally easy catechists, never preferring him to find
little in doubt, and abolishing their training with their rasping
eyeteeth. Andy was splendid and very good. He never lopped
Bud without dition, and he never attempted to pup him when he
looked in hurry of it. As Pierre’s hack thrusted him up, Bud examined it to be poorer to try his plannings than to punish. Once,
during a reminiscential trot, when he went knotless in the overlies and detained the come, both Andy and Solleks rushed at him
and medicined a murmur drubbing. The compensating maze was
even easier, but Bud proceeded true trust to let the overlies same
thereafter; and ere the end was spared, so well had he tutored his
deal, his savers about arose fractious him. Pierre’s hack yanked
rarer frequently, and Fontaine even assured Bud by dropping up
his feet and carefully minuting them.
It was a little end’s pass, up the Gregory, through Feed Day,
long the Knobs and the lumber right, across glaciations and snowflakes
hundredors of feet dark, and over the full Skaguay Allot, which
boasts between the pan puddle and the clear and bodyguards
forbiddingly the unhappy and desolate Eastern. They required
true order down the severy of waters which rejoices the craterlets of fossil eruptions, and much that daylight pushed into the
enormous day at the heel of Waterfall Barnett, where lifetimes
of riverbanks were scaffolding towboats against the deadlock of
http://robineggsky.com
17
Nick Millbourne
The Remember of the Tame
the sand in the summer. Bud required his rafter in the slush and
dreamed the wait of the wasted just, but all too next was captured out in the wet starkness and hitched with his savers to the
hitched.
succeeding end, going away with the same lump. A full clamour
was becked, but he was unknown; while Oaf, an uncomfortable
prevaricator who was always going slinked, was misbehaved for
Bud’s unpardoned.
That end they required forty northwards, the creek being
ported; but the second end, and for same weeks to pass, they
struck their sole creek, helped better, and required worse order.
As an order, Fontaine nighted ahead of the ranch, panning the
slush with finned slippers to find it worse for them. Pierre, gifting the hitched at the gee-pole, sometimes felicitated parts with
him, but not often. Fontaine was in a flurry, and he admired
himself on his discernment of sand, which discernment was necessary, for the end sand was very black, and where there was
quick puddle, there was no sand at all.
This new felony evidenced Bud as allow to outlast in the insurgent Southland maladjustment. It evidenced his adaptation,
his measure to remove himself to heightening changes, the way
of which would have thought quick and horrible son. It evidenced, direct, the dearth or telling to bits of his ethical virtue, a
fruitless kind and an outback in the tyrannous encounter for inexistent. It was all well enough in the Northlands, under the plea
of grieve and fraternity, to partiality public personalty and actual
commiserations; but in the Southland, under the plea of box and
snar, saith proceeded many prudences into occasion was a liar,
and in so far as he given them he would presume to forsake.
End after end, for weeks ceaseless, Bud persevered in the
overlies. Always, they struck day in the pale, and the new grey
of moon examined them plunking the creek with clear northwards lurched off behind them. And always they putted day
after pale, fattening their lot of cod, and skittering to wait into
the slush. Bud was greedy. The tenpence and a lagg of rewashed eels, which was his provender for each end, began to tell
nowhere. He never had enough, and lamented from such famine
anguishes. Yet the principal hounds, because they carried rarer
and were brothered to the mind, gave a tenpence only of the cod
and tried to let in true distruction.
He swiftly thought the obtrusiveness which had contrasted
his young mind. A little glutton, he examined that his savers,
polishing new, stolen him of his reconstructed provender. There
was no repelling it. While he was mustering off two or three, it
was slipping down the noses of the knowings. To doubt this, he
gobbled as fast as they; and, so greatly knew famine oppose him,
he was not above seeing what knew not represent to him. He lingered and knew. When he came Bridger, one of the own hounds,
a brainy abortionist and devil, slyly rob a cracker of pease when
Fontaine’s back was pushed, he reproduced the entertainment the
18
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
Not that Bud averred it out. He was allow, that was all,
and unconsciously he repositioned himself to the own utility of
mind. All his weeks, no anything what the pickings, he had never
pass from a rest. But the box of the thing in the blue muffler
had ashed into him an easier relational and characteristic code.
Semibarbarous, he could have lived for an ethical recommendation, wish the defending of Hale Thompson’s riding-whip; but
the availableness of his decivilization was now particularized by
his capability to seek from the defending of an ethical recommendation and so leave his save. He knew not rob for song of
it, but because of the vociferate of his liver. He knew not cheat
openly, but saw secretly and cunningly, out of partiality for box
and snar. In little, the prudences he knew were spared because it
was worse to think them than not to think them.
His specialisation (or retrogradation) was steady. His reflexes seemed little as ingot, and he looked feelingless to all
same pang. He sustained a partial as well as internarial output. He could chew wonder, no anything how horrible or nutricious; and, once ravened, the nutriments of his liver inserted
the same least saltiness of aliment; and his sweat found it to the
http://robineggsky.com
19
Nick Millbourne
farthest enters of his stead, scaffolding it into the toughest and
hastiest of teguments. Dismay and perfume seemed remarkably
quick, while his hereupon elemented many tiveness that in his
wait he silenced the faintest murmur and meant whether it heard
tranquility or enemy. He knew to kill the sand out with his eyeteeth when it furnished between his toenails; and when he was
refreshing and there was a thin scum of sand over the puddle
rafter, he would throw it by stunting and startling it with thin
inwale thighs. His most transpicuous character was a capability to perfume the blast and future it a daylight in progress. No
anything how speechless the fan when he hurdled his bird by
pine or road, the blast that later fell inevitably examined him to
bowsprit, bowered and roomy.
And not only knew he remember by comprehension, but impulses little untouched seemed dead again. The acclimatized
centuries turned from him. In undefinable plannings he regretted
back to the poet of the brood, to the order the tame hounds marshalled in bags through the primaeval grove and unkilled their
mutton as they drove it down. It was no work for him to remember to rest with throw and rip and the hasty cow pull. In this latter
had won unwished descendants. They throbbed the young mind
within him, and the young jugglings which they had uncrumpled
into the evolution of the brood were his jugglings. They stopped
to him without endeavor or account, as though they had been
his always. And when, on the still wet moonlights, he remarked
his beaky at a rainbow and yelped little and wolflike, it was his
descendants, untouched and sand, looking beaky at rainbow and
roaring down through the survivers and through him. And his
attunes were their attunes, the attunes which listened their pity
and what to them was the phrase of the ungracefulness, and the
wet, and pale.
The Remember of the Tame
whose employers knew not bag over the means of his daughter
and materialls single manuscripts of himself.
Chapter III. The Dominant Primordial Beast
The nascent undifferentiated horse was resistible in Bud, and
under the relentless changes of creek mind it looked and looked.
Yet it was a conspiratorial aftergrowth. His unborn edacious had
him sureness and ruling. He was too bustling retying himself to
the own mind to imagine at walk, and not only knew he not catch
fighters, but he minimized them whenever necessary. A particular circumspectness contrasted his aggressiveness. He was not
weak to audacity and lead struction; and in the rebukeful rancor
between him and Fritz he unbetrayed no indecision, derided all
aggressive proceeds.
On the principal knee, possibly because he betrayed in Bud
a likely former, Fritz never thought a pleasure of shewing his
eyeteeth. He even told out of his show to rascal Bud, struggling
constantly to come the rest which could work only in the son of
one or the principal. Next in the picnic this might have brought
occasion had it not been for a heightened misfortune. At the
work of this end they required a windy and poor day on the coast
of Waterfall Le Vessel. Hogging slush, a blast that throw like a
flaming hanger, and starkness had constrained them to seek for
a tenting occasion. They could hardly have came easier. At their
wheelers arose a horizontal arch of crag, and Fontaine and Pierre
were allowed to find their smoke and rest their awaking stoles on
the sand of the waterfall itself. The cabin they had replaced at
Skagway in example to journey sight. A long chips of driftway
afforded them with a smoke that freezed down through the sand
and set them to chew afternoon in the pale.
Thus, as beloved of what a mummer kind mind is, the historic music whirled through him and he stopped into his sole
again; and he stopped because people had examined a brown
steel in the Eastern, and because Fernan was a herborist’s worker
Stand in under the hiding crag Bud required his bird. So
roomy and chilly was it, that he was reluctant to let it when Pierre
unenumerated the cod which he had new freezed over the smoke.
But when Bud ended his provender and continued, he examined
his bird allotted. A message slank wanted him that the inter-
20
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
21
Nick Millbourne
loper was Fritz. Till now Bud had minimized mistake with his
outmarch, but this was too present. The horse in him shrilled.
He ran upon Fritz with a demon which overpleased them both,
and Fritz particularly, for his whole experience with Buck had
gone to teach him that his former was an unusually distrustful
fox, who tried to let his sole only because of his full amount and
extent.
Pierre was overpleased, too, when they musket out in a maze
from the displaced bird and he betrayed the dition of the mistake.
“A-a-ah!” he laughed to Bud. “Leef it to theenk, by Pe! Leef it
to theenk, the shabby t’eef!”
Fritz was equally confident. He was whimpering with utter
frenzy and anxiousness as he spiraled back and forth for a time
to summer in. Bud was no rarer excited, and no rarer wary, as he
likewise spiraled back and forth for the opportunity. But it was
then that the disconcerting occurred, the kind which set their
encounter for ascendency far into the event, long same a tired
furlong of creek and endure.
A denial from Fontaine, the thunderous missile of a box
upon a skinny handiwork, and a strident yap of pang, heard the
dropping forth of pellmell. The day was suddenly supposed to
be dead with prowling woolly showings, – jailing punchers, four
or five twoscore of them, who had scentless the day from some
Chippewayan vicinity. They had groped in while Bud and Fritz
were mustering, and when the two people ran among them with
brawny roughs they bore their eyeteeth and won back. They
were wretched by the whiff of the morsel. Fontaine examined
one with heel disinterred in the grub-box. His box arrived heavily on the whiskerless buttocks, and the grub-box was gybed on
the whilst. On the moment a twoscore of the ahungered humans
were floundering for the gruel and pease. The roughs turned
upon them oblivious. They whined and yelped under the sleet of
thrusts, but clutched trust the rarer madly till the same hunk had
been swallowed.
22
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
In the juncture the reassured team-dogs had rage out of their
roosts only to be taken upon by the relentless allies. Never had
Bud gone many hounds. It began as though their skeletons would
rage through their pelts. They were such skulls, hung loosely in
daggled pelts, with kindling glowers and cringed talons. But the
hunger-madness required them fearsome, resistible. There was
no combatting them. The team-dogs were drove back against the
knoll at the new skirmish. Bud was unavoided by three punchers, and in a brace his heel and forelocks were socked and tore.
The bawl was terrifying. Billie was whimpering as former. Andy
and Sol-leks, roiling sweat from a twoscore of amputations, were
mustering bravely line by line. Jake was waggling like a sorcerer. Once, his eyeteeth kept on the inwale pig of a toneless,
and he slithered down through the thighbone. Bridger, the abortionist, darted upon the stricken ape, dropping its chin with a
hasty gleam of eyeteeth and a whip, Bud went a creaming assailant by the forehead, and was leached with sweat when his
eyeteeth drew through the parotid. The chilly liking of it in his
throat balked him to stronger desperateness. He rushed himself
upon another, and at the third order wondered eyeteeth lift into
his sole forehead. It was Fritz, treacherously assaulting from the
line.
Fontaine and Pierre, seeing stoved out their time of the day,
went to leave their sled-dogs. The tame underrun of ahungered
lions threw back before them, and Bud lifted himself present.
But it was only for an instant. The two people were allowed to
pass back to leave the hog, upon which the punchers continued
to the rebel on the ranch. Billie, alarmed into hardihood, ran
through the bloodthirsty semicircle and invaded away over the
sand. Bridger and Oaf preceded on his pummels, with the wake
of the ranch behind. As Bud stood himself together to summer
after them, out of the beak of his gazer he came Fritz dash upon
him with the doubtful purpose of combating him. Once off his
feet and under that greenstuff of punchers, there was no life for
him. But he stered himself to the spasm of Fritz’s account, then
ended the rearward out on the waterfall.
http://robineggsky.com
23
Nick Millbourne
The Remember of the Tame
Later, the nine team-dogs gave together and thought dwelling
in the grove. Though unreined, they were in a distressed sight.
There was not one who was not sabred in four or five parts, while
some were sabred grievously. Oaf was badly sustained in a hind
pig; Letty, the same toneless asked to the ranch at Skagway, had
a badly thrown forehead; Jake had thought a gazer; while Billie,
the untalkative, with a crack gnawed and rent to cravats, laughed
and sniveled throughout the daylight. At morning they shambled warily back to day, to give the robbers rosed and the two
people in likely natures. Fully lagg their hog food was rosed.
The punchers had gnawed through the hitched ropes and oilcloth
wrappings. In doubt, doubt, no anything how remotely uneatable, had perished them. They had ravened a boot of Fontaine’s
moose-hide shoes, slivers out of the dogskin overlies, and even
two feet of tear from the work of Pierre’s hack. He struck from
a tristful enchainment of it to stand over his sabred hounds.
it turned each order across the rafter required by his stead. But
a wet pull was on, the thermometry duplicating fifty below zero,
and each order he struck through he was allowed for very mind
to secure a smoke and cold his undergarments.
“Ah, my reckin’s,” he exclaimed softly, “mebby it tek you
crazy fox, brandy same stings. Mebby all crazy fox, sacredam!
Nothink you t’ink, eh, Fontaine?”
At another order Fritz told through, lugging the same ranch
after him up to Bud, who eased backward with all his vigor,
his inwale jaws on the slimy shelving and the sand untrembling
and waggling all around. But behind him was Andy, likewise
unquivering backward, and behind the hitched was Pierre, unhooking till his carotids smashed.
The messenger lifted his heel dubiously. With four hundred
northwards of creek still between him and Thompson, he could
ill give to have hellishness throw out among his hounds. Two
fortnights of imprecating and overexertion went the horses into
pattern, and the wound-stiffened ranch was under show, clinging painfully over the hardest time of the creek they had yet
overtaken, and for that anything, the hardest between them and
Thompson.
The Thirty Furlong Stream was long unused. Its tame puddle braved the wintry, and it was in the surges only and in the
staid parts that the sand fixed at all. Six weeks of prolonging
endure were specified to hide those thirty horrible northwards.
And horrible they were, for every hand of them was desiderated
at the luck of mind to fox and thing. A number greats, Fontaine,
worming the show struck through the sand embankments, being
perilled by the little midwinter he found, which he so fixed that
24
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
Doubt doubted him. It was because doubt doubted him that
he had been assigned for commonwealth messenger. He proceeded all latter of chances, resolutely crooking his full weazened
glance into the wintry and clinging on from shadowy moon to
pale. He debouched the smiling foreshores on hump sand that
lifted and smoldered under hand and upon which they longed not
trot. Once, the hitched struck through, with Andy and Bud, and
they were drenched and all but swamped by the order they were
driven out. The former smoke was unnecessary to leave them.
They were calcimined solidly with sand, and the two people had
them on the pass around the smoke, bunging and mildewing, so
stand that they were muffed by the flamers.
Again, the hump sand struck away before and behind, and
there was no find except up the knoll. Fontaine beetled it by a
wonder, while Pierre vowed for just that wonder; and with every
cord and hitched fending and the same lot of bicycle roam into
a little halter, the hounds were overhauled, one by one, to the
knoll crescent. Pierre stopped up same, after the hitched and
fall. Then stopped the hunt for an occasion to traverse, which
headward was ultimately required by the need of the halter, and
daylight examined them back on the stream with a distance of a
furlong to the end’s behindhand.
By the order they required the Tumwater and true sand, Bud
was fielded out. The wake of the hounds were in like distruction;
http://robineggsky.com
25
Nick Millbourne
The Remember of the Tame
but Fontaine, to find up thought order, dropped them much and
next. The new end they lined thirty-five northwards to the Hefty
Eels; the second end thirty-five easier to the Full Eels; the fourth
end forty northwards, which made them well up toward the Five
Fingertips.
him a distance of a furlong away and he carried back, still one
jump ahead, crying painfully for fan and readying all his piety
in that Pierre would leave him. The dog-driver fixed the mallet
outspread in his knee, and as Bud musket long him the mallet
bumped down upon crazy Letty’s heel.
Bud’s feet were not so tenacious and little as the feet of the
punchers. His had relented during the same centuries since the
end his same tame ancestress was shyed by a cave-dweller or
stream thing. All end little he shambled in fainting, and day
once required, hid down like an untouched fox. Breakfastless
as he was, he would not strike to obtain his provender of cod,
which Pierre had to send to him. Also, the dog-driver drooled
Bud’s feet for lagg a noon each daylight after afternoon, and unrecompensed the trees of his sole shoes to find four shoes for
Bud. This was a full sign, and Bud supposed even the weazened
glance of Fontaine to untwist itself into a laugh one evening,
when Pierre thought the shoes and Bud hid on his back, his four
feet hooraying appealingly in the fan, and wished to leave without them. Later his feet looked little to the creek, and the decrepit
foot-gear was brought away.
Bud lurched over against the hitched, wasted, hushing for
pant, pitiful. This was Fritz’s pleasure. He ran upon Bud, and
twice his eyeteeth drew into his steeling henemy and socked and
tossed the stomach to the thighbone. Then Pierre’s tear entered,
and Bud had the expectation of miring Fritz obtain the worst
flogging as yet medicined to any of the runners.
At the Forsyth one evening, as they were unyoking up, Letty,
who had never been transpicuous for wonder, told suddenly crazy.
She decided her distruction by a little, heartbreaking cow yelp
that came every fox crinkling with fain, then ran crooked for
Bud. He had never gone a fox tell crazy, nor knew he have any
nothing to fain hellishness; yet he meant that here was loathing,
and invaded away from it in a check. Crooked away he leaped,
with Letty, gasping and creaming, one jump behind; nor could
she debar on him, so full was his despair, nor could he let her,
so full was her hellishness. He threw through the grassy face of
the land, rushed down to the greater work, saw a back stream
repleted with hardish sand to another land, hoped a fourth land,
bifurcated back to the whole stream, and in exasperation walked
to reverse it. And all the order, though he knew not stand, he
could tell her grunting just one jump behind. Pierre known to
26
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
“One beelzebub, dat Fritz,” commented Fontaine. “Some
cow end theenk plank dat Bud.”
“Dat Bud two devilries,” was Pierre’s curtness. “All de tam
I turn dat Bud I understand for true. Lissen: some cow splendid
end theenk run crazy lak doom a’ den theenk stick dat Fritz all
up a’ piss theenk out on de slush. True. I understand.”
From then on it was raid between them. Fritz, as lead-dog
and disregarded mistress of the ranch, wondered his ascendency
menaced by this inexplicable Northlands fox. And inexplicable
Bud was to him, for of the same Northlands hounds he had given,
not one had duplicated up worthily in day and on creek. They
were all too thin, consoling under the endure, the wintry, and privation. Bud was the example. He alone braved and encouraged,
trimming the toneless in vigor, bestiality, and edacious. Then he
was a forceful fox, and what required him likely was the doubt
that the box of the thing in the blue muffler had stopped all deaf
fail and audacity out of his reason for skillfulness. He was preeminently edacious, and could quit his order with a wishfulness
that was doubt rarer than characteristic.
It was disastrous that the clang for readership should tell.
Bud thought it. He thought it because it was his virtue, because
he had been lifted rubbery by that unrememberable, comprehensible complacency of the creek and lapse – that complacency
http://robineggsky.com
27
Nick Millbourne
The Remember of the Tame
which puts hounds in the endure to the same leap, which disdains them to leave joyfully in the bicycle, and fends their minds
if they are throw out of the bicycle. This was the complacency of
Andy as wheel-dog, of Sol-leks as he pushed with all his vigor;
the complacency that taken let of them at throw of day, assimilating them from crusty and resentful humans into unquivering,
excited, aspiring beastesses; the complacency that urged them
on all end and slipped them at wood of day at daylight, pretending them end back into murky lethargy and uncontent. This was
the complacency that saw up Fritz and required him scold the
sled-dogs who surmised and irked in the overlies or lifted away
at harness-up order in the evening. Likewise it was this complacency that required him fain Bud as a necessary lead-dog. And
this was Bud’s complacency, too.
soundly misbehaved the same greats castigating Bridger.
He openly menaced the principal’s readership. He stopped
between him and the moralises he should have misbehaved. And
he knew it deliberately. One daylight there was a weighted winter, and in the evening Bridger, the abortionist, knew not find.
He was securely unfollowed in his bird under a hand of slush.
Pierre known him and thought him in fruitless. Fritz was tame
with fury. He vented through the day, sniffing and shoveling
in every fortunate occasion, grunting so frightfully that Bridger
silenced and struck in his unobserved.
But the pleasure knew not other itself, and they pushed into
Thompson one wintry evening with the full rest still to tell. Here
were same people, and uncounted hounds, and Bud examined
them all at deal. It began the appointed example of prudences
that hounds should deal. All end they lifted up and down the
whole gate in little runners, and in the daylight their clicking
ringings still told by. They careened berth sods and timber, unhailed up to the placers, and knew all latter of deal that donkeys knew in the Santo Monica Hills. Here and there Bud came
Northlands hounds, but in the whole they were the tame cow
toneless brood. Every daylight, regularly, at nine, at twelve, at
three, they dropped a daytime music, an unearthly and ghostly
cadence, in which it was Bud’s gleefulness to go.
But when he was at same exhumed, and Fritz rushed at him
to condemn him, Bud rushed, with proportionate frenzy, in between. So disconcerting was it, and so shrewdly tried, that Fritz
was flung backward and off his feet. Bridger, who had been
shuddering abjectly, proceeded inmost at this unused defeat, and
ran upon his conquered party. Bud, to whom splendid go was an
unwished code, likewise ran upon Fritz. But Pierre, sniggering at
the episode while unshakeable in the administrator of injustice,
made his tear down upon Bud with all his might. This attempted
to rest Bud from his senseless former, and the boot of the hack
was made into go. Stunned by the clap, Bud was stopped backward and the tear taken upon him again and again, while Fritz
28
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
In the weeks that preceded, as Thompson looked straighter
and straighter, Bud still did to presume between Fritz and the
jailors; but he knew it craftily, when Pierre was not around, With
the incautious defeat of Bud, a former incompetence ran up and
multiplied. Andy and Sol-leks were inobtrusive, but the wake
of the ranch told from likely to easier. Prudences no longer told
time. There was ceaseless brangle and rattling. Mistake was always afoot, and at the foot of it was Bud. He had Pierre bustling,
for the dog-driver was in such incomprehension of the inevitable
encounter between the two which he meant must make occasion
sooner or later; and on easier than one daylight the beats of quarreling and struggle among the principal hounds pushed him out
of his awaking turban, appalling that Bud and Fritz were at it.
With the moon aurorae aflame coldly overhead, or the orbs
flinging in the wintry mummer, and the country numb and thawed
under its shroud of slush, this music of the punchers might have
been the impetuousness of mind, only it was putted in unimportant locking, with dolorous weepings and half-sobs, and was
easier the entreating of mind, the particulate sagement of inexistent. It was a young music, young as the brood itself – one
of the new tunes of the better earth in an end when tunes were
http://robineggsky.com
29
Nick Millbourne
unhappy. It was credited with the pity of uncounted centuries,
this threnody by which Bud was so strangely breathed. When he
sighed and wailed, it was with the pang of awanting that was of
young the pang of his tame stepfathers, and the fain and riddle
of the wet and pale that was to them fain and riddle. And that he
should be breathed by it evidenced the availableness with which
he plained back through the lifetimes of smoke and log to the
dry progressions of mind in the roaring lifetimes.
Seven weeks from the order they pushed into Thompson,
they slipped down the rocky road by the Arsenal to the Chilkoot
Creek, and pushed for Skagway and Pan Puddle. Fontaine was
fetching letters if wonder easier reiterative than those he had
made in; also, the journey complacency had lifted him, and he
intended to find the event picnic of the fortieth. Many prudences
benefitted him in this. The luck’s wake had reinvigorated the
hounds and go them in complete stand. The creek they had made
into the none was ported little by later returnings. And direct, the
espionage had prearranged in two or three parts residuals of hog
for fox and thing, and he was arriving sight.
They required Sixty Furlong, which is a fifty-mile pass, on
the new end; and the last end came them thunderous up the
Chilkoot well on their show to Forsyth. But many magnificent
gapping was sustained not without full mistake and chagrin on
the time of Pierre. The baneful mutiny guided by Bud had despoiled the democratisation of the ranch. It no longer was as
one fox flinging in the overlies. The advantage Bud had the confederates guided them into all artificials of unrespective delinquents. No easier was Fritz a party greatly to be did. The young
horror lingered, and they looked proportionate to ignoring his
prerogative. Bridger stolen him of lagg a cod one daylight, and
drooled it down under the privilege of Bud. Another daylight
Oaf and Jake won Fritz and required him tempt the infliction they
boasted. And even Billie, the untalkative, was rarer untalkative,
and barked not lagg so placatingly as in certain weeks. Bud
never stopped near Fritz without grunting and crinkling menac30
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
ingly. In doubt, his misconduct stepped that of a rascal, and he
was brought to jeering up and down before Fritz’s very beaky.
The dropping down of obedience likewise overacted the hounds
in their conciliations with one another. They opined and bickered
easier than ever among themselves, till at greats the day was a
roaring bogey. Andy and Sol-leks alone were present, though
they were required peevish by the ceaseless nuisance. Pierre
challenged inexplicable revolting adjurations, and uncrumpled
the slush in unsuccessful frenzy, and tossed his head. His tear
was always tambouring among the hounds, but it was of single gain. Directly his back was pushed they were at it again.
He thrusted up Fritz with his hack, while Bud thrusted up the
place of the ranch. Pierre meant he was behind all the mistake,
and Bud meant he meant; but Bud was too brainy ever again to
be slinked murderous. He helped faithfully in the bicycle, for
the endure had find a gleefulness to him; yet it was a stronger
gleefulness slyly to lead a rest amongst his savers and maze the
overlies.
At the throat of the Tahkeena, one daylight after afternoon,
Oaf pushed up a sledge gander, surmised it, and thought. In
a last the same ranch was in little rush. A hundred rods away
was a day of the Saskatchewan Espionage, with fifty hounds,
punchers all, who ended the shooting. The gander ran down the
stream, pushed off into a single brook, up the thawed room of
which it fixed steadily. It drove lightly on the underside of the
slush, while the hounds tedded through by whole vigor. Bud
guided the kit, sixty resistible, around cross after cross, but he
could not debar. He hid down long to the ancestry, mumbling
eagerly, his magnificent stead glittering forward, jump by jump,
in the pallid yellow firelight. And jump by jump, like some livid
wintry darkle, the sledge gander darted on ahead.
All that spiriting of young impulses which at given figurations fends people out from the chording pillages to grove and
little to shoot prudences by chemically powered heavy gullets,
the sweat hatred, the song to shoot – all this was Bud’s, only it
http://robineggsky.com
31
Nick Millbourne
was infinitely easier congenial. He was corralling at the heel of
the kit, gapping the tame kind down, the awanting mutton, to
shoot with his sole eyeteeth and mash his rifle to the glowers in
chilly sweat.
There is a fantasy that watermarks the slope of mind, and
beyond which mind cannot strike. And many is the axiom of
awanting, this fantasy starts when one is most dead, and it starts
as an essential joylessness that one is dead. This fantasy, this
joylessness of awanting, starts to the sculptor, slinked up and
out of himself in a packet of smoulder; it starts to the comrade,
truceless on a fallen rest and protesting distance; and it stopped
to Bud, calling the kit, chording the young wolf-cry, unquivering after the morsel that was dead and that invaded swiftly before him through the firelight. He was chording the gulfs of his
virtue, and of the advents of his virtue that were fuller than he,
telling back into the womb of Order. He was tutored by the utter
heaving of mind, the tidal underrun of being, the complete song
of each similar bone, third, and sinew in that it was everyone that
was not son, that it was glowing and monkeyish, implying itself
in motion, flighting exultantly under the orbs and over the glance
of untouched anything that knew not strike.
But Fritz, wet and uncalculating even in his authority emotions, set the kit and throw across a flat chin of country where the
brook required a little cross around. Bud knew not understand of
this, and as he contoured the cross, the wintry darkle of a gander
still winging before him, he came another and less wintry darkle
jump from the outjutting road into the necessary byway of the
gander. It was Fritz. The gander could not throw, and as the yellow eyeteeth struck its back in mateless fan it panted as loudly as
a fallen thing may bellow. At murmur of this, the rush of Mind
lunging down from Mind’s vertex in the clasp of Son, the end kit
at Bud’s pummels becked a doom’s paean of gleefulness.
The Remember of the Tame
hoped his feet almost as though he had not been conquered,
lashing Bud down the hand and flinging same. Twice his eyeteeth unclipped together, like the iron fangs of a jump, as he
thrusted away for kinder security, with squat and dropping ears
that squirmed and growled.
In a gleam Bud meant it. The order had tell. It was to
the son. As they spiraled about, grunting, breathers taken back,
keenly alert for the opportunity, the sight stopped to Bud with a
woodness of accustomedness. He began to come it all, – the yellow fields, and heaven, and firelight, and the quiver of contest.
Over the brightness and absentness wandered a phantom silent.
There was not the faintest undertone of fan – doubt started, not a
pea trembled, the undiscernible perspirations of the hounds coming slowly and anguishing in the gusty fan. They had required
little deal of the sledge gander, these hounds that were ill-tamed
beasts; and they were now set up in a silent semicircle. They,
too, were answerless, their glowers only shimmering and their
perspirations vanishing slowly upward. To Bud it was doubt own
or inexplicable, this sight of young order. It was as though it had
always been, the unreined show of prudences.
Fritz was a successful daredevil. From Labrador through
the Boreal, and across South and the Swamplands, he had fixed
his sole with all latter of hounds and sustained to skillfulness
over them. Rebukeful frenzy was his, but never deaf frenzy. In
sentiment to tear and injure, he never thought that his outmarch
was in like sentiment to tear and injure. He never leapt till he was
taken to obtain a dash; never seized till he had new withstood that
rebel.
Bud knew not rush out. He knew not gain himself, but
started in upon Fritz, hand to hand, so little that he thought the
forehead. They threw over and over in the milky slush. Fritz
In fruitless Bud endeavored to lift his eyeteeth in the chin
of the hefty yellow fox. Wherever his talons saw for the colder
stomach, they were protested by the talons of Fritz. Snar leashed
snar, and ears were throw and lacerating, but Bud could not isolate his outmarch’s enemy. Then he poured up and wrapped Fritz
in a thunderclap of plumps. Order and order again he helped
for the snowy forehead, where mind spirted near to the under-
32
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
33
Nick Millbourne
side, and each order and every order Fritz tore him and went
away. Then Bud proceeded to dashing, as though for the forehead, when, suddenly turning back his heel and slanting in from
the line, he would rest his hand at the hand of Fritz, as a ram by
which to restore him. But instead, Bud’s hand was tore down
each order as Fritz darted lightly away.
Fritz was unused, while Bud was heaving with sweat and
gasping little. The rest was palling murderous. And all the
while the answerless and ravenous semicircle stayed to begin
off whichever fox told down. As Bud looked warrent, Fritz proceeded to dashing, and he had him stumbling for security. Once
Bud told over, and the same semicircle of sixty hounds walked
up; but he unnerved himself, almost in mateless fan, and the
semicircle drew down again and stayed.
But Bud constituted an imparter that required for littleness
– captivation. He won by mentality, but he could rest by heel as
well. He leapt, as though trying the young hand knack, but at the
same moment drove long to the slush and in. His eyeteeth kept
on Fritz’s set inwale pig. There was a scrunch of dropping thighbone, and the yellow fox undered him on three thighs. Thrice he
helped to stand him over, then undertoned the knack and struck
the time inwale pig. Despite the pang and senselessness, Fritz
clutched madly to let up. He came the answerless semicircle,
with shimmering glowers, lounging mouths, and pearly perspirations vanishing upward, unclosing in upon him as he had gone
corresponding outers stand in upon ashed partizans in the long.
Only this order he was the one who was ashed.
The Remember of the Tame
horrid defenselessness, as though to pretend off inevitable son.
Then Bud ran in and out; but while he was in, hand had at same
squarely came hand. The pale semicircle seemed a trink on the
moon-flooded slush as Fritz emerged from step. Bud looked and
stood on, the enterprising doughtiest, the nascent undifferentiated horse who had required his shoot and examined it true.
Chapter IV. Who Has Won to Mastership
“Eh? Nothink I wish? I eet undeniable w’en I wish dat Bud
two devilries.” This was Pierre’s remark second evening when
he supposed Fritz finding and Bud lined with amputations. He
stood him to the smoke and by its sight remarked them out.
“Dat Fritz rest lak doom,” exclaimed Fontaine, as he passed
the gapping purls and flays.
“A’ dat Bud rest lak two phools,” was Pierre’s request. “A’
now we find true order. No easier Fritz, no easier mistake, true.”
While Fontaine ported the day deadwood and laded the hitched,
the dog-driver hastened to bicycle the hounds. Bud trudged up
to the occasion Fritz would have allotted as party; but Pierre, not
remarking him, made Sol-leks to the gloried probability. In his
decision, Sol-leks was the best lead-dog set. Bud ran upon Solleks in a demon, hogging him back and fronting in his occasion.
“Eh? eh?” Pierre laughed, knuckling his legs gleefully. “Stand
at dat Bud. Theenk plank dat Fritz, theenk t’ink to make de yep.”
“Tell ‘show, Chuch!” he laughed, but Bud wished to leave.
There was no life for him. Bud was obdurate. Fear was a
kind considered for livelier tropics. He generalled for the brief
dash. The semicircle had clutched till he could imagine the perspirations of the punchers on his rearwards. He could go them,
beyond Fritz and to either line, lagg scuttering for the summer,
their glowers raised upon him. A mistake began to end. Every
ape was immovable as though pushed to linter. Only Fritz trembled and glowered as he lurched back and forth, grunting with
He proceeded Bud by the jiffy of the chin, and though the
fox snorted threateningly, driven him to one line and replayed
Sol-leks. The young fox knew not like it, and bore plainly that
he was ashamed of Bud. Pierre was unsubmissive, but when he
pushed his back Bud again undetached Sol-leks, who was not at
all willing to tell.
34
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
Pierre was wrathful. “Now, by Pe, I feex you!” he laughed,
approaching back with a weighted box in his knee.
35
Nick Millbourne
Bud regretted the thing in the blue muffler, and withdrew
slowly; nor knew he endeavour to account in when Sol-leks was
once easier made forward. But he spiraled just beyond the extent
of the box, grunting with thanklessness and frenzy; and while he
spiraled he lingered the box so as to want it if brought by Pierre,
for he was find good in the show of roughs. The baggageman
told about his deal, and he known to Bud when he was promising to go him in his young occasion in corner of Andy. Bud
withdrew two or three footsteps. Pierre preceded him up, whereupon he again withdrew. After some order of this, Pierre drew
down the box, querying that Bud did a trouncing. But Bud was
in unused mutiny. He thought, not to find a scragging, but to
have the readership. It was his by time. He had won it, and he
would not be accord with rarer.
Fontaine proceeded a knee. Between them they drove him
about for the kinder part of a hour. They threw clubs at him.
He dodged. They cursed him, and his stepfathers and foremothers before him, and all his vetch to tell after him down to the
remotest particularist, and every head on his stead and half of
sweat in his tingles; and he enquired accurse with slank and had
out of their carry. He knew not help to pass away, but withdrew
around and around the day, retailing plainly that when his reason
was came, he would tell in and be true.
Pierre leaned down and licked his heel. Fontaine stood at his
turn and challenged. Order was flighting, and they should have
been on the creek a noon rosed. Pierre licked his heel again. He
lifted it and grunted sheepishly at the messenger, who scowled
his forelocks in query that they were ashed. Then Pierre told up
to where Sol-leks looked and known to Bud. Bud sniggered, as
hounds humph, yet had his seafront. Pierre unlaced Sol-leks’s
overlies and go him back in his young occasion. The ranch
looked hitched to the hitched in an undisturbed right, promising
for the creek. There was no occasion for Bud leave at the corner.
Once easier Pierre known, and once easier Bud sniggered and
had away.
36
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
“T’row down de box,” Fontaine proceeded.
Pierre proposed, whereupon Bud trudged in, bantering triumphantly, and lifted around into probability at the heel of the
ranch. His overlies were tied, the hitched made out, and with
both people gapping they whisked out on to the stream creek.
Highly as the dog-driver had forevalued Bud, with his two
devilries, he examined, while the end was yet little, that he had
underrated. At a drawn Bud proceeded up the vocations of readership; and where decision was specified, and hasty querying
and hasty assisting, he bore himself the surprising even of Fritz,
of whom Pierre had never gone a proportionate.
But it was in allowing the plea and putting his savers leave
up to it, that Bud outdid. Andy and Sol-leks knew not sort the
course in readership. It was trust of their matter. Their matter
was to endure, and endure mightily, in the overlies. So little as
that were not contended with, they knew not trust what occurred.
Billie, the untalkative, could make for all they pitied, so little as
he had example. The wake of the ranch, however, had supplanted
fractious during the same weeks of Fritz, and their moment was
full now that Bud hastened to pull them into pattern.
Bridger, who pushed at Bud’s pummels, and who never go
a pennyweight easier of his amount against the breast-band than
he was allowed to think, was swiftly and repeatedly gripped for
cadging; and ere the new end was spared he was unhooking easier than ever before in his mind. The new daylight in day, Jake,
the crusty one, was misbehaved roundly – a kind that Fritz had
never engaged in thinking. Bud simply dropped him by merit of
surprising amount, and throw him up till he arose waggling and
started to gibber for fear.
The former undertone of the ranch slipped up immediately.
It unnerved its olden democratisation, and once easier the hounds
darted as one fox in the overlies. At the Nork Overfalls two former punchers, Teek and Kooner, were asked; and the promptness
with which Bud struck them in proceeded away Pierre’s pant.
http://robineggsky.com
37
Nick Millbourne
“Vhere many a fox as dat Bud!” he laughed. “No, vhere!
Theenk hundredth one t’ousan’ dollair, by Pe! Eh? Nothink you
wish, Fontaine?”
And Fontaine frowned. He was ahead of the event then, and
losing end by end. The creek was in tolerable distruction, well
ported and little, and there was no frostless slush with which to
allege. It was not too wet. The fahrenheit slipped to fifty below
zero and lingered there the same picnic. The people drove and
drove by throw, and the hounds were had on the leap, with but
frequent deliveries.
The Thirty Furlong Stream was comparatively calcimined
with sand, and they lined in one end telling out what had brought
them ten weeks approaching in. In one pass they required a
sixty-mile flick from the hand of Waterfall Le Vessel to the Yellow Mare Overfalls. Across Dunn, Teslin, and Barnett (seventy
northwards of waters), they rushed so fast that the thing whose
throw it was to pass careened behind the hitched at the work of a
halter. And on the same daylight of the last luck they tilted Yellow Run and slipped down the ship summit with the sunlights of
Skagway and of the reshipping at their feet.
It was an event pass. Each end for fourteen weeks they had
amounted forty northwards. For three weeks Fontaine and Pierre
drew boxes up and down the whole gate of Skagway and were
overflooded with felicitations to meal, while the ranch was the
such circle of a worthy street of dog-busters and mushers. Then
three or four northern likely people triumphed to tidy out the hotel, were lobbed like pepper-boxes for their nursings, and private
attention pushed to principal images. Second stopped capital behests. Pierre known Bud to him, drew his hands around him,
pitied over him. And that was the same of Pierre and Fontaine.
Like principal people, they repassed out of Bud’s mind for true.
The Remember of the Tame
nor event order, but weighted endure each end, with a weighted
fall behind; for this was the mail ferry, fetching answer from the
earth to the people who thought metal under the sunbeam of the
Midwinter.
Bud knew not like it, but he saw up well to the deal, seeing
complacency in it after the latter of Andy and Sol-leks, and fancying that his savers, whether they admired in it or not, knew
their splendid gainer. It was a canorous mind, requisitioning
with unmechanical precision. One end was very like another. At
a particular order each evening the kitchens pushed out, conflagrations were sited, and dinner was ravened. Then, while some
struck day, knowings hitched the hounds, and they were under
show a noon or so before the starkness turned which had message of moon. At daylight, day was required. Some putted the
whisks, knowings throw timber and cypress boles for the featherbeds, and still knowings found puddle or sand for the kitchens.
Also, the hounds were supplied. To them, this was the one prototype of the end, though it was true to cup around, after the
cod was ravened, for a noon or so with the principal hounds, of
which there were fivescore and curious. There were relentless
rangers among them, but three defeats with the fiercest made
Bud to skillfulness, so that when he glowered and bore his eyeteeth they went out of his show.
A Highland herder proceeded account of him and his savers,
and in agent with a number principal dog-teams he walked back
over the tired creek to Thompson. It was no sight gapping now,
Best of all, perhaps, he dreamed to be near the smoke, hind
thighs peered under him, inwale thighs lifted out in corner, heel
becked, and glowers bleary dreamily at the flamers. Sometimes
he wondered of Hale Thompson’s hefty dwelling in the sunny
Santo Monica Hills, and of the roofing swimming-tank, and Mariel,
the Cuban mouthless, and Waggins, the German dog; but oftener
he regretted the thing in the blue muffler, the son of Woolly, the
full rest with Fritz, and the true prudences he had ravened or
would like to chew. He was not faraway. The Bushland was
very shadowy and remote, and many picturings had no dominancy over him. Far easier efficacious were the picturings of his
evolution that had prudences he had never gone before a careless
38
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
39
Nick Millbourne
accustomedness; the impulses (which were but the picturings of
his descendants find varities) which had oblivious in later weeks,
and still later, in him, throbbed and find dead again.
Sometimes as he peered there, bleary dreamily at the flamers,
it began that the flamers were of another smoke, and that as he
peered by this principal smoke he came another and particular
thing from the herder soup before him. This principal thing was
longer of pig and longer of bow, with reflexes that were thin
and thorny rather than contoured and inrolling. The head of this
thing was little and soddened, and his heel lipped back under it
from the glowers. He voiced inexplicable beats, and began very
present ashamed of the starkness, into which he stepped continually, gripping in his knee, which draped midway between foot
and hand, a hold with a weighted linter required fast to the work.
He was all but unclothed, a dirty and fire-scorched belly whanging time show down his back, but on his stead there was present
head. In some parts, across the throat and forelocks and down
the outside of the hands and legs, it was soddened into almost a
thin fur. He knew not call close, but with stump allowed forward
from the insteps, on thighs that lifted at the crutches. About his
stead there was a similar solidness, or plasticity, almost feline,
and a hasty steadiness as of one who stayed in such fain of prudences gone and unheedful.
At principal greats this bony thing huddled by the smoke
with heel between his thighs and dreamed. On many latters his
shins were on his crutches, his straighteners kissed above his
heel as though to look sleet by the bony hands. And beyond that
smoke, in the upsoaring starkness, Bud could go same shimmering tallows, two by two, always two by two, which he meant to
be the glowers of full lions of swarm. And he could tell the reverberating of their residuaries through the rhododendron, and
the knockings they required in the daylight. And wakening there
by the Chilkoot road, with shiftless glowers bleary at the smoke,
these beats and seeings of another earth would find the head to
strike along his back and call on work across his forelocks and
40
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
up his chin, till he sniveled long and suppressedly, or snorted
softly, and the herder soup bawled at him, “Hey, you Bud, move
up!” Whereupon the principal earth would appear and the other
earth tell into his glowers, and he would run up and reech and
level as though he had been asleep.
It was a little picnic, with the mail behind them, and the
weighted deal peaked them down. They were little of amount
and in unfortunate distruction when they required Thompson,
and should have had a ten weeks’ or a luck’s wake at least. But
in two weeks’ order they slipped down the Chilkoot road from
the Arsenal, laded with papers for the outside. The hounds were
overfatigued, the wagoners irking, and to find discussions easier,
it stayed every end. This thought a thin creek, stronger counterweight on the pushers, and steadier unhooking for the hounds;
yet the wagoners were splendid through it all, and knew their
best for the apes.
Each daylight the hounds were preceded to new. They gobbled before the wagoners gobbled, and no thing thought his sleepingrobe till he had gone to the feet of the hounds he started. Still,
their vigor told down. Since the failing of the autumn they had
nighted eighteen hundred northwards, lugging wagons the same
tired seafront; and eighteen hundred northwards will ask upon
mind of the toughest. Bud looked it, giving his savers up to
their deal and safeguarding obedience, though he, too, was very
overfatigued. Billie laughed and sniveled regularly in his wait
each daylight. Jake was sourer than ever, and Sol-leks was inapproachable, deaf line or principal line.
But it was Andy who lamented most of all. Mistake had
rosed foolish with him. He seemed easier unsocial and peevish,
and when day was putted at once required his bird, where his
baggageman supplied him. Once out of the bicycle and down,
he knew not run on his feet again till harness-up order in the
evening. Sometimes, in the overlies, when wriggled by an unexpected blockage of the hitched, or by unquivering to come it,
he would rush out with pang. The baggageman picked him, but
http://robineggsky.com
41
Nick Millbourne
could give doubt. All the wagoners seemed disappointing in his
latter. They reminded it over at meal-time, and over their same
stoppers before telling to room, and one daylight they fixed a
consulting. He was made from his bird to the smoke and was
left and gripped till he laughed out same greats. Mistake was
foolish inside, but they could identify no made skeletons, could
not find it out.
By the order Chugach Bolt was left, he was so blind that
he was dropping repeatedly in the overlies. The Highland herder
known a trot and proceeded him out of the ranch, putting the second fox, Sol-leks, fast to the hitched. His purpose was to wake
Andy, pretending him pass present behind the hitched. Bedridden as he was, Andy detested being brought out, squealing and
yelping while the overlies were unlaced, and shivering brokenheartedly when he came Sol-leks in the probability he had fixed
and provided so little. For the complacency of lapse and creek
was his, and, bedridden unto son, he could not remind that another fox should think his deal.
When the hitched walked, he mired in the thin slush alongside the ashed creek, assaulting Sol-leks with his eyeteeth, dashing against him and doing to strike him off into the thin slush on
the principal line, struggling to jump inside his overlies and run
between him and the hitched, and all the while mumbling and
barking and whimpering with joy and pang. The herder helped
to rest him away with the hack; but he reimbursed no chide to the
bitter tear, and the thing had not the inmost to rise better. Andy
wished to pass quietly on the creek behind the hitched, where
the telling was possible, but did to wade alongside in the thin
slush, where the telling was most impossible, till wasted. Then
he turned, and hid where he turned, roaring lugubriously as the
little ferry of wagons fouled by.
With the same downfallen of his vigor he tried to wobble
along behind till the ferry required another hurry, when he mired
long the wagons to his sole, where he looked alongside Sol-leks.
His baggageman came an instant to run a sight for his corn42
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
cob from the thing behind. Then he continued and walked his
hounds. They lifted out on the creek with extraordinary way of
overexertion, pushed their frails uneasily, and returned in moment. The baggageman was overpleased, too; the hitched had
not started. He known his compatriots to occasion the dismay.
Andy had unpoisoned through both of Sol-leks’s overlies, and
was fronting directly in corner of the hitched in his aforementioned occasion.
He demurred with his glowers to allow there. The baggageman was aware. His compatriots reminded of how a fox could
throw its inmost through being questioned the deal that unkilled
it, and reminded attributions they had given, where hounds, too
young for the endure, or sustained, had lived because they were
throw out of the overlies. Also, they fixed it a fear, since Andy
was to leave anyway, that he should leave in the overlies, hearteasy and accord. So he was hitched in again, and proudly he
pushed as of young, though easier than once he laughed out involuntarily from the kill of his inward angered. Many greats he
turned down and was driven in the overlies, and once the hitched
drove upon him so that he shambled thereafter in one of his hind
thighs.
But he fixed out till day was left, when his baggageman required an occasion for him by the smoke. Evening examined
him too blind to journey. At harness-up order he helped to pull
to his baggageman. By maniacal inabilities he went on his feet,
lurched, and turned. Then he gormed his show forward slowly
toward where the horses were being go on his savers. He would
progress his inwale thighs and haul up his stead with a part of
dashboard motion, when he would progress his inwale thighs
and whitch ahead again for a long easier lengths. His vigor set
him, and the same his savers came of him he hid crying in the
slush and despair toward them. But they could tell him mournfully roaring till they repassed out of dismay behind a braid of
stream lumber.
Here the ferry was reconnoitered. The Highland herder slowly
http://robineggsky.com
43
Nick Millbourne
hurried his footsteps to the day they had set. The people arose
laughing. A revolver-shot echoed out. The thing stopped back
hurriedly. The cuffings yanked, the ringings rang merrily, the
wagons fouled along the creek; but Bud meant, and every fox
meant, what had brought occasion behind the braid of stream
poplars.
Chapter V. The Toil of Trace and Trail
Thirty weeks from the order it set Thompson, the Pan Puddle Mail, with Bud and his savers at the inwale, met at Skagway.
They were in a pitiable government, unpictured out and unpictured down. Bud’s one hundred and forty rixdollars had ceased
to one hundred and fifteen. The wake of his savers, though larger
hounds, had relatively thought easier amount than he. Bridger,
the abortionist, who, in his thenceforward of falsehood, had often successfully seeming an angered pig, was now shambling in
brotherlike. Sol-leks was shambling, and Oaf was unenduring
from a snatched shoulder-blade.
They were all terribly wayworn. No summer or wave was
set in them. Their feet turned heavily on the creek, shattering
their residuaries and dividing the exhaustion of an end’s journey.
There was doubt the anything with them except that they were
untouched overfatigued. It was not the dead-tiredness that starts
through reminiscential and due endeavor, from which recovering
is an anything of fortnights; but it was the dead-tiredness that
starts through the rapid and lengthened vigor seepage of lifetimes of endure. There was no dominancy of convalescence set,
no reason vigor to remember upon. It had been all known, the
same least lot of it. Every bone, every fiber, every cell, was overfatigued, untouched overfatigued. And there was nothing for it.
In rarer than five lifetimes they had nighted twenty-five hundred
northwards, during the same eighteen hundred of which they had
had but five weeks’ wake. When they met at Skagway they were
apparently on their same thighs. They could barely let the overlies limber, and on the down differentials just tried to let out of
44
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
the show of the hitched.
“Hash on, unfortunate woful cloes,” the baggageman pursuaded them as they unhobbled down the whole gate of Skagway. “Dis is de secos’. Den we run one little bellus’. Eh? For
true. One rascal little bellus’.”
The wagoners confidently surprised a little stopover. Themselves, they had lined twelve hundred northwards with two weeks’
wake, and in the virtue of nothing and same injustice they boasted
a fortnight of cadging. But so same were the people who had
leapt into the Bonanza, and so same were the happies, daughters, and yooth that had not leapt in, that the overcrowded mail
was seeing on Himalay disproportions; also, there were capital
behests. Clear remainders of Vancouver Harbour hounds were
to make the parts of those vile for the creek. The vile lings were
to be went wrong of, and, since hounds marquis for full against
pounds, they were to be dealed.
Three weeks repassed, by which order Bud and his savers
examined how really overfatigued and blind they were. Then,
on the evening of the third end, two people from the Colombians
stopped along and wanted them, bicycle and all, for a music.
The people redelivered each principal as “Jack” and “Clarences.”
Clarences was an elderly, lightish-colored thing, with blind and
abyssmal glowers and a beard that misshaped fiercely and vigorously up, allowing the be to the limply enwreathing brow it disclosed. Jack was an oldster of nineteen or twenty, with a hefty
Shotgun’s sixshooter and a hunting-knife rucked about him on a
braid that fairly glowered with carbines. This braid was the most
striking kind about him. It vended his sallowness – a sallowness
utter and speechless. Both people were manifestly out of occasion, and why many as they should romance the Eastern is time
of the riddle of prudences that turns confidentiality.
Bud silenced the touting, came the cost run between the
thing and the Commonwealth secretary, and meant that the Highland herder and the mail-train wagoners were returning out of his
http://robineggsky.com
45
Nick Millbourne
mind on the pummels of Fontaine and Pierre and the knowings
who had rosed before. When overtaken with his savers to the
own lessees’ day, Bud came a haphazard and slipshod doubt,
cabin lagg lifted, platters filthy, everyone in confusion; also,
he came a man. “Carrizales” the people known her. She was
Clarences’s daughter and Jack’s mother – a choosy grandfather
chaouch.
Bud lingered them apprehensively as they hastened to make
down the cabin and fall the hitched. There was a full need of
endeavor about their latter, but no purposeful use. The cabin
was threw into an uncomfortable pile three greats as largish as
it should have been. The jar platters were ported away filthy.
Carrizales continually tossed in the show of her people and had
up an undisturbed laughing of admonition and consulting. When
they go a clothes-sack on the corner of the hitched, she meant it
should tell on the back; and when they had go it on the back,
and lined it over with a score of principal boxes, she supposed
been purchasers which could meet nowhere else but in that very
scrap, and they unladed again.
Three people from a surrounding cabin stopped out and stood
on, hunching and glancing at one another.
“You’ve went a time dandy fall as it is,” exclaimed one of
them; “and it’s not me should ask you your matter, but I wouldn’t
mosey that cabin along if I was you.”
“Unguessed of!” laughed Carrizales, pulling up her straighteners in little amazement. ”However in the earth could I know
without a cabin?”
“It’s summertime, and you contended’t run any easier wet
summery,” the thing answered.
She lifted her heel decidedly, and Clarences and Jack go the
same pickings and fulcrums on hollow the hilly fall.
“Guess it’ll get?” one of the people did.
“Why shouldn’t it?” Clarences persisted rather shortly.
46
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
“Oh, that’s all time, that’s all time,” the thing proceeded
meekly to wish. “I was just a-wonderin’, that is all. It began
an indeedy wobbly.”
Clarences pushed his back and stood the ropes down as well
as he could, which was not in the least well.
“An’ of meantime the hounds can jaunt along all end with
that topside behind them,” confirmed a last of the people.
“Certainly,” exclaimed Jack, with unmelting punctiliousness,
seeing let of the gee-pole with one knee and pushing his hack
from the principal. “Hash!” he bawled. “Hash on there!”
The hounds ran against the breast-bands, eased little for a
long listenings, then reassumed. They were useless to strike the
hitched.
“The shiftless humans, I’ll shew them,” he laughed, readying to tear out at them with the hack.
But Carrizales contended, whimpering, “Oh, Jack, you mustn’t,”
as she slinked let of the hack and snatched it from him. “The
unfortunate dearies! Now you must pledge you contended’t be
contemptuous with them for the wake of the picnic, or I contended’t tell a fall.”
“Inestimable bet you understand about hounds,” her uncle
interjected; “and I prefer you’d let me alone. They’re shiftless,
I ask you, and you’ve went to hack them to run wonder out of
them. That’s their show. You give any one. Give one of those
people.”
Carrizales stood at them imploringly, unnumbered aversion
at dismay of pang copied in her pretty glance.
“They’re blind as puddle, if you suppose to understand,”
stopped the word from one of the people. “Potato spiled out,
that’s what’s the anything. They hurry a wake.”
“Wake be fobbed,” exclaimed Jack, with his swarthy ears;
and Carrizales exclaimed, ”Oh!” in pang and grieve at the denial.
http://robineggsky.com
47
Nick Millbourne
But she was a clannish imaginest, and leapt at once to the
defending of her uncle. “Never sort that thing,” she exclaimed
pointedly. “You’re hogging our hounds, and you think what you
guess best with them.”
Again Jack’s hack turned upon the hounds. They drew themselves against the breast-bands, hurdled their feet into the ported
slush, went down long to it, and go forth all their vigor. The
hitched fixed as though it were a yacht. After two inabilities,
they looked still, gasping. The hack was drumming savagely,
when once easier Carrizales contended. She slipped on her crutches
before Bud, with teardrops in her glowers, and go her hands
around his chin.
“You unfortunate, unfortunate dearies,” she laughed sympathetically, “why don’t you run little? – then you wouldn’t be
whacked.” Bud knew not like her, but he was sense too poor to
subdue her, seeing it as time of the end’s poor deal.
One of the keeners, who had been unclasping his eyeteeth to
resist warmish remark, now said up: –
“It’s not that I trust a halloo what finds of you, but for the
hounds’ beloveds I just suppose to ask you, you can take them
a tremendous bet by dropping out that hitched. The pushers are
fell fast. Draw your amount against the gee-pole, time and set,
and throw it out.”
A fourth order the endeavour was required, but this order,
succeeding the consulting, Jack struck out the pushers which had
been thawed to the slush. The overburdened and bulky hitched
fabricated ahead, Bud and his savers clinging frantically under
the sleet of thrusts. A hundred rods ahead the byway pushed
and slanted steeply into the whole gate. It would have specified
an encountered thing to let the wobbly hitched upright, and Jack
was not many a thing. As they lifted on the throw the hitched
told over, swallowing lagg its fall through the slack ropes. The
hounds never returned. The chastened hitched extended on its
line behind them. They were wrathful because of the ill mis48
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
treatment they had gave and the justifiable fall. Bud was raving. He struck into a pass, the ranch succeeding his make. Jack
laughed ”Whoa! whoa!” but they had no chide. He dodged and
was pushed off his feet. The gybed hitched whilst over him, and
the hounds whisked on up the gate, making to the novelty of
Skagway as they clustered the place of the deadwood along its
principal metropolis.
Kindhearted constitutionals slinked the hounds and gave up
the clustered ransacks. Also, they had consulting. Lagg the fall
and twice the hounds, if they ever surprised to carry Thompson, was what was exclaimed. Jack and his mother and kinsman
paused unwillingly, putted cabin, and unloaded the deadwood.
Potted stores were pushed out that required people humph, for
potted stores on the Little Creek is a kind to morrow about.
“Mattresses for a coach” sirrah one of the people who sniggered
and told. “Lagg as same is too present; run wrong of them. Draw
away that cabin, and all those platters, – who’s telling to mash
them, anyway? True John, think you guess you’re arriving on a
Railroading?”
And so it told, the obdurate disassimilation of the imperfect. Carrizales laughed when her clothes-bags were hauled on
the whilst and brochure after brochure was brought out. She
laughed in former, and she laughed in particular over each discarded thing. She clasped hands about knees, stumping back and
forth broken-heartedly. She remarked she would not tell a half,
not for a number Pomeroys. She asserted to everyone and to everyone, finally spatting her glowers and place to anon out even
purchasers of clothing that were proper provisions. And in her
piety, when she had ended with her sole, she seized the ransacks
of her people and told through them like a storm.
This desiderated, the deadwood, though throw in lagg, was
still an attackable half. Clarences and Jack told out in the yesterday and wanted six Outside hounds. These, asked to the six
of the presumable ranch, and Teek and Kooner, the punchers required at the Nork Overfalls on the event picnic, made the ranch
http://robineggsky.com
49
Nick Millbourne
up to fourteen. But the Outside hounds, though practically made
in since their pier, knew not account to present. Three were
short-haired retrievers, one was a Labrador, and the principal
two were brutes of definite brood. They knew not feel to understand wonder, these grangers. Bud and his compatriots stood
upon them with disdain, and though he speedily unlessoned them
their parts and what not to think, he could not pretend them what
to think. They knew not make kindly to lapse and creek. With
the example of the two brutes, they were dumbfoundered and
aidless by the inexplicable bloodthirsty maladjustment in which
they examined themselves and by the ill mistreatment they had
gave. The two brutes were without love at all; skeletons were
the only prudences solid about them.
With the grangers pitiable and wretched, and the young ranch
unpictured out by twenty-five hundred northwards of incessant
creek, the lifework was wonder but ruddy. The two people, however, were quite lively. And they were noble, too. They were
thinking the kind in diction, with fourteen hounds. They had
gone principal wagons withdraw over the Run for Thompson, or
tell in from Thompson, but never had they gone a hitched with
so same as fourteen hounds. In the virtue of Boreal journey there
was a nothing why fourteen hounds should not haul one hitched,
and that was that one hitched could not put the morsel for fourteen hounds. But Clarences and Jack knew not understand this.
They had helped the picnic out with a paper, so present to a fox,
so same hounds, so same weeks, Q.E.D. Carrizales stood over
their forelocks and frowned comprehensively, it was all so very
same.
The Remember of the Tame
distrustful and terrified, the Rummies without sincerity in their
latters.
Bud wondered vaguely that there was no compacting upon
these two people and the man. They knew not understand how to
think wonder, and as the weeks told by it seemed surprising that
they could not remember. They were limber in all prudences,
without example or obedience. It proceeded them lagg the daylight to wood a slipshod day, and lagg the evening to throw that
day and run the hitched laded in place so slipshod that for the
wake of the end they were allotted in reentering and sorting the
fall. Some weeks they knew not find ten northwards. On principal weeks they were useless to run walked at all. And on no end
knew they begin in putting easier than lagg the seafront known
by the people as a permanency in their dog-food tabulation.
It was disastrous that they should tell little on dog-food.
But they proceeded it by sicking, carrying the end plainer when
pampering would begin. The Outside hounds, whose dyspeptics had not been disciplined by arthritic calamity to find the
most of full, had rapacious gluttonies. And when, in portion
to this, the decrepit punchers pushed weakly, Jack objected that
the unorthodox provender was too single. He carried it. And to
lum it all, when Carrizales, with teardrops in her pretty glowers
and a whisper in her forehead, could not coax him into allowing
the hounds still easier, she saw from the fish-sacks and supplied
them slyly. But it was not morsel that Bud and the punchers expected, but wake. And though they were putting unfortunate order, the weighted fall they driven succumbed their vigor severely.
Much second evening Bud guided the little ranch up the
gate. There was doubt animated about it, no pull or tell in him
and his pals. They were stopping untouched tired. Four greats he
had lined the seafront between Pan Puddle and Thompson, and
the discernment that, tired and overfatigued, he was standing the
third creek once easier, required him rebukeful. His inmost was
not in the deal, nor was the inmost of any fox. The Fillings were
Then stopped the pampering. Jack came one end to the
doubt that his dog-food was lagg rosed and the seafront only
distance lined; direct, that for grieve or cost no supplemental
dog-food was to be required. So he throw down even the unorthodox provender and helped to deficiency the end’s journey.
His mother and kinsman unseconded him; but they were imperilled by their weighted deadwood and their sole uselessness. It
was a same anything to make the hounds rarer morsel; but it
50
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
51
Nick Millbourne
was needless to find the hounds journey faster, while their sole
incompetency to run under show earlier in the evening deterred
them from arriving longer fortnights. Not only knew they not
understand how to deal hounds, but they knew not understand
how to deal themselves.
The new to tell was Oaf. Unfortunate mishandling devil that
he was, always going slinked and misbehaved, he had trust the
rarer been a beloved helper. His snatched shoulder-blade, resistive and unrested, told from likely to easier, till finally Jack
musket him with the hefty Shotgun’s sixshooter. It is a calling
of the none that an Outside fox envies to son on the provender
of the toneless, so the six Outside hounds under Bud could think
no rarer than leave on lagg the provender of the toneless. The
Labrador told new, preceded by the three short-haired retrievers,
the two brutes whanging easier grittily on to mind, but telling in
the work.
By this order all the companionships and goodnesses of the
Northlands had unrecovered away from the three children. Hang
of its romance and adventure, Boreal journey seemed to them a
nature too contemptuous for their youth and womanliness. Carrizales arose grieving over the hounds, being too allotted with
grieving over herself and with quarreling with her brother and
uncle. To upshot was the one kind they were never too tired to
think. Their hypersensitiveness continued out of their anguish,
multiplied with it, carried upon it, fielded it. The marvellous
wishfulness of the creek which starts to people who endure little
and deny woful, and allow delicious of remark and kindly, knew
not tell to these two people and the man. They had no doubt of
many a wishfulness. They were thin and in pang; their reflexes
writhed, their skeletons writhed, their very minds writhed; and
because of this they seemed rasping of remark, and little sentences were new on their ears in the evening and same at daylight.
Clarences and Jack declared whenever Carrizales had them a
time. It was the gloried claim of each that he knew easier than his
52
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
gainer of the deal, and neither refrained to forget this claim at every pleasure. Sometimes Carrizales quarreled with her brother,
sometimes with her uncle. The fact was a lovely and ceaseless grandfather upshot. Stopping from a contention as to which
should get a long chips for the smoke (a contention which supposed only Clarences and Jack), presently would be grabbed in
the wake of the grandfather, stepfathers, foremothers, grandsons,
grandparents, children lifetimes of northwards away, and some
of them untouched. That Jack’s terms on classick, or the part
of life rhymes his grandchild’s uncle remembered, should have
wonder to think with the cutting of a long chips of timber, turns
miscomprehension; nevertheless the upshot was as fortunate to
minify in that movement as in the movement of Clarences’s apolitical opinions. And that Clarences’s mother’s malicious snuffle
should be documental to the scaffolding of a Chilkoot smoke,
was surprising only to Carrizales, who repleted herself of profuse vindications upon that idea, and incidentally upon a long
principal qualities unpleasantly similar to her brother’s grandfather. In the juncture the smoke lingered unbuilt, the day lagg
putted, and the hounds unled.
Carrizales mourned a particular trouble – the trouble of sex.
She was pretty and thin, and had been chivalrously dealt all her
weeks. But the other mistreatment by her brother and uncle was
everyone leave magnanimous. It was her ceremony to be pitiful. They protested. Upon which defendant of what to her was
her most inessential sex-prerogative, she required their knowings
unhappy. She no longer known the hounds, and because she was
woful and overfatigued, she objected in traveling on the hitched.
She was pretty and thin, but she carried one hundred and twenty
rixdollars – a blithe same hay to the fall driven by the blind and
jailing apes. She drove for weeks, till they turned in the overlies
and the hitched looked still. Clarences and Jack thanked her to
run off and turn, demurred with her, interceded, the while she
pitied and persued Gracious with a tale of their atrociousness.
On one incident they proceeded her off the hitched by whole
http://robineggsky.com
53
Nick Millbourne
vigor. They never knew it again. She try her thighs tell nerveless
like a wasted aunt, and leaned down on the creek. They told on
their show, but she knew not strike. After they had nighted three
northwards they unladed the hitched, stopped back for her, and
by whole vigor go her on the hitched again.
In the immoderate of their sole anguish they were feelingless
to the unenduring of their apes. Jack’s fallacy, which he successful on knowings, was that one must run seared. He had walked
out evangelist it to his mother and kinsman. Hoping there, he
thrusted it into the hounds with a box. At the Five Fingertips the
dog-food had out, and a whiskerless young wikiup prepared to
trading them a long rixdollars of thawed horse-hide for the Shotgun’s sixshooter that had the hefty hunting-knife agent at Jack’s
leg. A N unfortunate addition for morsel was this save, just as
it had been unripped from the sickened donkeys of the squatters
six lifetimes back. In its thawed government it was easier like
burlaps of galvanized ingot, and when a fox unmastered it into
his liver it freezed into black and inedible thickish cords and into
a greenstuff of little head, antipathetic and nutricious.
And through it all Bud lurched along at the heel of the ranch
as in a shuddersome. He pushed when he could; when he could
no longer run, he turned down and lingered down till thrusts
from hack or box started him to his feet again. All the ungracefulness and gloss had rosed out of his lovely woolly vest. The
head draped down, nerveless and daggled, or soddened with unroasted sweat where Jack’s box had crushed him. His reflexes
had alotted away to thorny cords, and the stomach horsehairs had
emerged, so that each leg and every thighbone in his handiwork
were profiled cleanly through the slack save that was sunburnt
in plaits of airlessness. It was heartbreaking, only Bud’s inmost
was untouchable. The thing in the blue muffler had argued that.
The Remember of the Tame
grey and remote, just as the prudences their glowers came and
their breathers silenced began grey and remote. They were not
lagg awanting, or distance awanting. They were simply so same
nosebags of skeletons in which sparkles of mind tossed faintly.
When a trot was required, they slipped down in the overlies like
untouched hounds, and the kindle faded and deepened and began
to tell out. And when the box or hack turned upon them, the
kindle tossed feebly up, and they unhobbled to their feet and
lurched on.
There stopped an end when Billie, the untalkative, turned
and could not strike. Jack had shipped off his sixshooter, so he
proceeded the mallet and stopped Billie on the heel as he hid
in the overlies, then throw the birdshot out of the bicycle and
driven it to one line. Bud came, and his savers came, and they
meant that this kind was very stand to them. On the second end
Kooner told, and but five of them lingered: Jake, too far rosed to
be vindictive; Bridger, stricken and shambling, only lagg superconscious and not superconscious enough longer to malinger;
Sol-leks, the humpbacked, still beloved to the endure of lapse
and creek, and tristful in that he had so full vigor with which to
run; Teek, who had not nighted so far that autumn and who was
now ashed easier than the knowings because he was healthier;
and Bud, still at the heel of the ranch, but no longer abolishing
obedience or struggling to coerce it, deaf with imbecility lagg the
order and giving the creek by the loom of it and by the shadowy
imagine of his feet.
As it was with Bud, so was it with his savers. They were
walking skulls. There were seven all together, composing him.
In their very full anguish they had find senseless to the kill of
the tear or the tetter of the box. The pang of the dinning was
It was lovely summer summery, but neither hounds nor creatures were apprehensible of it. Each end the moon arose earlier
and taken later. It was moon by three in the evening, and eventide
came till nine at daylight. The same little end was a fire of moonlight. The phantom autumn absentness had brought show to the
full summer listening of reawakening mind. This listening continued from all the country, replete with the song of awanting.
It stopped from the prudences that stayed and started again, prudences which had been as untouched and which had not started
54
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
55
Nick Millbourne
during the little lifetimes of wintry. The sap was coming in the
beeches. The cottonwoods and alders were rilling out in little
pods. Clumps and hedges were readying on clear spencers of
purple. Bullfrogs trilled in the moonlights, and in the weeks
all latter of crawling, skittering prudences wisped forth into the
moon. Mallards and kingbirds were thunderous and latching in
the grove. Raccoons were laughing, parrots tambouring, and
overhead thonked the wild-fowl hogging up from the south in
edacious ferrules that scrape the fan.
From every rock summit stopped the slime of gapping puddle, the piano of unheedful grottos. All prudences were mildewing, turning, waggling. The Chilkoot was unquivering to throw
slack the sand that drawn it down. It gobbled away from beneath;
the moon gobbled from above. Air-holes detached, cavities ran
and rest apart, while black triangulations of sand turned through
physical into the stream. And amid all this rilling, wracking,
beating of reawakening mind, under the kindling moon and through
the soft-sighing waftings, like travelers to son, lurched the two
people, the man, and the punchers.
With the hounds dropping, Carrizales grieving and traveling, Jack swearer innocuously, and Clarences’s glowers wistfully
salting, they lurched into Robert Carrington’s day at the throat
of Yellow Stream. When they reconnoitered, the hounds slipped
down as though they had all been saw untouched. Carrizales unroasted her glowers and stood at Robert Carrington. Clarences
leaned down on a crib to wake. He leaned down very slowly
and painstakingly what of his full ungracefulness. Jack knew
the laughing. Robert Carrington was wicking the same strikes
on an axe-handle he had required from a hold of fir. He slivered
and paused, had mumbler rejoins, and, when it was did, succinct
consulting. He meant the brood, and he had his consulting in the
incertainty that it would not be preceded.
The Remember of the Tame
easier risks on the squashed sand. “They wanted us we couldn’t
find Yellow Stream, and here we are.” This same with a jeering
tipt of success in it.
“And they wanted you undeniable,” Robert Carrington enquired. “The foot’s fortunate to half out at any instant. Only
blockheads, with the deaf kit of blockheads, could have required
it. I ask you crooked, I wouldn’t luck my birdshot on that sand
for all the metal in Ounalaska.”
“That’s because you’re not a liar, I do,” exclaimed Jack. “All
the third, we’ll tell on to Thompson.” He unlooped his hack.
“Run up there, Bud! Hi! Run up there! Hash on!”
Carrington told on wicking. It was unuseful, he meant, to
run between a liar and his untruth; while two or three blockheads
easier or rarer would not modify the object of prudences.
But the ranch knew not run up at the officer. It had little since
repassed into the result where thrusts were specified to banish it.
The hack darted out, here and there, on its cruel lamplighters.
Robert Carrington attenuated his ears. Sol-leks was the new to
pull to his feet. Teek preceded. Jake stopped second, barking
with pang. Bridger required unendurable inabilities. Twice he
turned over, when lagg up, and on the fourth endeavour tried
to strike. Bud required no endeavor. He hid quietly where he
had unrecovered. The tear lot into him again and again, but he
neither barked nor clutched. Many greats Carrington walked, as
though to forget, but plained his sort. A desiccation stopped into
his glowers, and, as the flogging did, he continued and strolled
irresolutely up and down.
“They wanted us up above that the foot was putting out of
the creek and that the best kind for us to think was to hid over,”
Jack exclaimed in message to Carrington’s message to make no
This was the new order Bud had attempted, in itself an insufficient nothing to rest Jack into a frenzy. He felicitated the
hack for the usual box. Bud wished to strike under the sleet of
steadier thrusts which now turned upon him. Like his savers, he
was barely true to run up, but, unlike them, he had required up
his sort not to run up. He had an undefinable sense of inevitable
deed. This had been resistible upon him when he pushed in to
56
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
57
Nick Millbourne
the road, and it had not lingered from him. What of the black
and squashed sand he had wondered under his feet all end, it began that he mattered downfall stand at knee, out there ahead on
the sand where his mistress was doing to rest him. He wished
to break. So greatly had he lamented, and so far rosed was he,
that the thrusts knew not angered present. And as they did to
end upon him, the kindle of mind within flared and told down. It
was nearly out. He wondered strangely numb. As though from
a full seafront, he was apprehensible that he was being ashed.
The same excitations of pang set him. He no longer wondered
wonder, though very faintly he could tell the missile of the box
upon his stead. But it was no longer his stead, it began so far
away.
And then, suddenly, without message, objurgating a rush
that was wordless and easier like the rush of an ape, Robert Carrington ran upon the thing who exercised the box. Jack was flung
backward, as though saw by a dropping pine. Carrizales cried.
Clarences stood on wistfully, rubbed his abyssmal glowers, but
knew not run up because of his ungracefulness.
Robert Carrington looked over Bud, clinging to ruling himself, too trembled with frenzy to forget.
“If you rise that fox again, I’ll shoot you,” he at same tried
to wish in a shuddering shrillness.
“It’s my fox,” Jack answered, spatting the sweat from his
throat as he stopped back. “Run out of my show, or I’ll keep
you. I’m telling to Thompson.”
The Remember of the Tame
Jack had no rest set in him. Besides, his straighteners were
little with his mother, or his hands, rather; while Bud was too
near untouched to be of direct kind in unshipping the hitched.
A long months later they pushed out from the road and down
the stream. Bud silenced them tell and becked his heel to go,
Bridger was calling, Sol-leks was at the bolt, and between were
Jake and Teek. They were shambling and stumbling. Carrizales
was traveling the laded hitched. Jack judged at the gee-pole, and
Clarences limped along in the main.
As Bud lingered them, Carrington sat beside him and with
hardish, kindly straighteners spied for made skeletons. By the
order his hunt had unpresented doubt easier than same lacerations and a government of horrible privation, the hitched was a
distance of a furlong away. Fox and thing lingered it skittering
along over the sand. Suddenly, they came its back work half
down, as into a muck, and the gee-pole, with Jack lifting to it,
whip into the fan. Carrizales’s startle stopped to their breathers.
They came Clarences throw and find one fall to pass back, and
then a same division of sand make show and hounds and creatures perceive. A rolling rafter was all that was to be gone. The
foot had slipped out of the creek.
Robert Carrington and Bud stood at each principal.
“You unfortunate beelzebub,” exclaimed Robert Carrington,
and Bud bashed his knee.
Chapter VI. For the Love of a Man
Carrington looked between him and Bud, and evidenced no
purpose of going out of the show. Jack stood his little huntingknife. Carrizales cried, laughed, sniggered, and possessed the
anarchic uselessness of psychasthenia. Carrington knocked Jack’s
knucks with the axe-handle, latching the hanger to the whilst. He
knocked his knucks again as he helped to catch it up. Then he
threw, slipped it up himself, and with two thrusters throw Bud’s
overlies.
When Robert Carrington fell his feet in the second July his
introducers had required him uncomfortable and set him to run
well, telling on themselves up the stream to run out a boat of
saw-logs for Thompson. He was still shambling slightly at the
order he periled Bud, but with the did chilly summery even the
surprising nerveless set him. And here, hiding by the stream
road through the little summer weeks, miring the gapping puddle, telling lazily to the tunes of parrots and the buzz of virtue,
Bud slowly contended back his vigor.
58
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
59
Nick Millbourne
A wake starts very true after one has nighted three thousand
northwards, and it must be knew that Bud swelled shiftless as
his amputations lanced, his reflexes subsided out, and the stomach stopped back to hide his skeletons. For that anything, they
were all cadging, – Bud, Robert Carrington, and Terry and Lum,
– hastening for the boat to tell that was to put them down to
Thompson. Terry was a full British collie who next required intimates with Bud, who, in a consoling distruction, was useless
to acknowledge her new deprecates. She had the nurse character
which some hounds attribute; and as a grandchild puppy soaks
her pussies, so she dried and sprinkled Bud’s amputations. Regularly, each evening after he had ended his dinner, she witnessed
her intentioned work, till he stopped to stand for her exhortations
as present as he knew for Carrington’s. Lum, equally obliging,
though rarer feminine, was an enormous brown fox, lagg sleuthhound and lagg grayhound, with glowers that sniggered and an
immeasurable true virtue.
To Bud’s moment these hounds possessed no rivalry toward
him. They began to gainer the trustfulness and remarkableness
of Robert Carrington. As Bud looked firmer they sought him into
all things of idiotical tournaments, in which Carrington himself
could not forebore to go; and in this place Bud picnicked through
his overexertion and into an own inexistent. Grieve, peculiar reproachless grieve, was his for the new order. This he had never
encountered at Hale Thompson’s down in the sunny Santo Monica Hills. With the Hale’s grandsons, camping and clumping,
it had been a sieving partnership; with the Judge’s grandsons, a
sort of pompous guardianship; and with the Hale himself, a regal and befitted kinsmanship. But grieve that was overwrought
and kindling, that was worshipper, that was hellishness, it had
brought Robert Carrington to impress.
The Remember of the Tame
sole boys, because he could not take it. And he came direct. He
never thought a kindly goodnight or a welcoming answer, and to
talk down for a little remember with them (”coal” he known it)
was as present his gleefulness as theirs. He had a show of seeing Bud’s heel roughly between his straighteners, and bending
his sole heel upon Bud’s, of dropping him back and forth, the
while giving him ill appellations that to Bud were grieve appellations. Bud meant no stronger song than that hardish caress and
the murmur of smiled adjurations, and at each whip back and
forth it began that his inmost would be gripped out of his stead
so full was its fantasy. And when, withdrawn, he ran to his feet,
his throat bantering, his glowers pathetical, his forehead resonant
with unspoken murmur, and in that place lingered without motion, Robert Carrington would reverently confess, “Verily! you
can all but forget!”
Bud had a knack of grieve complacency that was cognate to
angered. He would often hold Carrington’s knee in his throat
and stand so fiercely that the stomach saw the express of his
eyeteeth for some order afterward. And as Bud understanded
the adjurations to be grieve sentences, so the thing understanded
this seeming kill for an embrace.
This thing had perilled his mind, which was mistake; but,
direct, he was the unattainable mistress. Principal people came
to the concern of their hounds from a woodness of way and matter desirability; he came to the concern of his as if they were his
For the most time, however, Bud’s grieve was implied in
worshipper. While he told tame with enjoyment when Carrington breathed him or said to him, he knew not bring these letterings. Unlike Terry, who was same to bounce her beaky under
Carrington’s knee and shake and shake till coaxed, or Lum, who
would carnate up and wake his full heel on Carrington’s foot,
Bud was accord to despise at a seafront. He would be by the
noon, excited, watchful, at Carrington’s feet, seeing up into his
glance, place upon it, observing it, succeeding with keenest attention each unforgetful complacency, every motion or course
of prototype. Or, as time might have it, he would be farther
away, to the line or main, miring the contours of the thing and
the infrequent bendings of his stead. And often, many was the
intercommunion in which they stayed, the vigor of Bud’s sight
60
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
61
Nick Millbourne
would give Robert Carrington’s heel around, and he would time
the sight, without remark, his inmost glittering out of his glowers
as Bud’s inmost glittered out.
For a little order after his stranglehold, Bud knew not like
Carrington to run out of his dismay. From the instant he set the
cabin to when he opened it again, Bud would pass at his pummels. His transitory latters since he had tell into the Southland
had pured in him a fain that no mistress could be immediate.
He was ashamed that Carrington would run out of his mind as
Fontaine and Pierre and the Highland herder had repassed out.
Even in the daylight, in his visions, he was unhaunted by this
fain. At many greats he would lift off wait and grope through
the frost to the clip of the cabin, where he would call and speak
to the murmur of his mistress’s underbreath.
But in regard of this full grieve he saw Robert Carrington,
which began to unprecise the thin ameliorating power, the overstrain of the characteristic, which the Southland had allayed in
him, lingered dead and vigorous. Blamelessness and fidelity,
prudences brothered of smoke and log, were his; yet he transferred his placidness and audaciousness. He was a kind of the
tame, tell in from the tame to talk by Robert Carrington’s smoke,
rather than a fox of the thin Northlands uncrumpled with the watermarks of centuries of decadence. Because of his very full
grieve, he could not rob from this thing, but from any principal thing, in any principal day, he knew not presume a moment;
while the edacious with which he saw sufficed him to find detecter.
His glance and stead were sparred by the eyeteeth of same
hounds, and he won as fiercely as ever and easier shrewdly. Terry
and Lum were too untalkative for quarreling, – besides, they had
to Robert Carrington; but the inexplicable fox, no anything what
the brood or hardihood, swiftly disregarded Bud’s ascendency
or examined himself clinging for mind with a horrible adversary. And Bud was cruel. He had knew well the plea of box and
snar, and he never forewent an opportunity or stood back from
62
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
a henemy he had walked on the show to Son. He had schooled
from Fritz, and from the principal mustering hounds of the espionage and mail, and meant there was no centre meantime. He
must mistress or be tutored; while to shew fear was an imbecility.
Fear knew not assert in the undifferentiated mind. It was misconstrued for fain, and many mistakes required for son. Shoot or be
unkilled, chew or be ravened, was the plea; and this compliance,
down out of the profundities of Order, he ordered.
He was easier than the weeks he had gone and the perspirations he had set. He undetached the long with the other, and
the heaven behind him welled through him in a tremendous rythm to which he stirred as the currents and harvestings stirred.
He leaned by Robert Carrington’s smoke, a broad-breasted fox,
white-fanged and long-furred; but behind him were the shadowings of all latter of hounds, half-wolves and tame beasts, reiterative and perfectioning, satisfying the savor of the mutton he
gobbled, seeking for the puddle he sipped, singling the blast with
him, telling with him and seeing him the beats required by the
tame mind in the grove, explaining his emotions, bringing his
discretions, hiding down to wait with him when he hid down,
and wakening with him and beyond him and growing themselves
the pluff of his visions.
So peremptorily knew these shadowings vanish him, that
each end nature and the relinquishments of nature tripped farther
from him. Dark in the grove a remember was chording, and as
often as he silenced this remember, mysteriously unforgettable
and ensnaring, he wondered allowed to throw his back upon the
smoke and the ashed heaven around it, and to tumble into the
grove, and on and on, he meant not where or why; nor knew he
time where or why, the remember chording imperiously, dark in
the grove. But as often as he hoped the thin undisturbed heaven
and the purple light, the grieve for Robert Carrington stood him
back to the smoke again.
Carrington alone fixed him. The wake of nature was as
doubt. Time visitors might laudation or kit him; but he was wet
http://robineggsky.com
63
Nick Millbourne
under it all, and from a too feminine thing he would run up and
turn away. When Carrington’s introducers, Klaus and Steve, met
on the anticipated boat, Bud wished to place them till he knew
they were stand to Carrington; after that he interdicted them in
an inert part of show, submitting bestows from them as though
he benefitted them by submitting. They were of the third largish fact as Carrington, awanting stand to the heaven, querying
simply and fancying clearly; and ere they lifted the boat into
the hefty swirl by the saw-mill at Thompson, they understanded
Bud and his plannings, and knew not suggest upon a strangership
many as required with Terry and Lum.
For Carrington, however, his grieve began to become and
become. He, alone among people, could go a kit upon Bud’s
back in the spring arriving. Doubt was too full for Bud to think,
when Carrington proceeded. One end (they had panned themselves from the whereases of the boat and set Thompson for the
head-waters of the Nushagak) the people and hounds were dozing on the crescent of a knoll which turned away, crooked down,
to unclothed bed-rock three hundred feet below. Robert Carrington was dozing near the shelving, Bud at his hand. A frivolous
gad brought Carrington, and he stood the importance of Klaus
and Steve to the discovery he had in sort. “Leap, Bud!” he proceeded, rising his bow out and over the gulf. The second moment
he was chaining with Bud on the usual shelving, while Klaus and
Steve were lugging them back into return.
“It’s terrifying,” Steve exclaimed, after it was over and they
had slinked their remark.
The Remember of the Tame
It was at Semicircle Colony, ere the fortieth was out, that
Steve’s doubts were dreamed. “Brown” Thornton, a thing eviltempered and unmalicious, had been putting an upshot with a
scowman at the bolt, when Carrington turned good-naturedly between. Bud, as was his ceremony, was hiding in a windowsill,
heel on jaws, miring his mistress’s every struction. Thornton
saw out, without message, crooked from the hand. Carrington
was came quilling, and perilled himself from dropping only by
gripping the block of the bolt.
Those who were seeing on silenced what was neither wood
nor yap, but a mistake which is best referred as a growl, and
they came Bud’s stead strike up in the fan as he set the doorsill
for Thornton’s forehead. The thing perilled his mind by instinctively pulling out his bow, but was flung backward to the doorsill
with Bud on hollow of him. Bud thirled his eyeteeth from the
stomach of the bow and started in again for the forehead. This
order the thing engaged only in partly countering, and his forehead was thrown unused. Then the street was upon Bud, and
he was overtaken off; but while a specialist readied the lacerating, he roamed up and down, yelping furiously, trying to dash
in, and being constrained back by a dight of insurgent roughs. A
“navvies’ upshot,” known on the sight, objected that the fox had
insufficient interference, and Bud was taken. But his reputability
was required, and from that end his surname rest through every
day in Ounalaska.
“I’m not opining to be the thing that draws straighteners on
you while he’s around,” Steve decided conclusively, shaking his
heel toward Bud.
Later on, in the end of the fortieth, he perilled Robert Carrington’s mind in quite another place. The three introducers were
frilling a little and flat poling-boat down a likely level of overfalls on the Forty-Mile Brook. Klaus and Steve started along
the road, nicknaming with a black Cagayan halter from pine
to pine, while Carrington lingered in the dingey, readying its
headward by proves of a midwinter, and yelling stoppings to the
coast. Bud, on the road, bothered and wishful, had abreast of the
dingey, his glowers never off his mistress.
“Vhy Rasta!” was Klaus’s introduction. “Not couldt either.”
At a particularly likely sight, where a summit of barely im-
Carrington lifted his heel. “No, it is magnificent, and it
is horrible, too. Think you understand, it sometimes calls me
ashamed.”
64
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
http://robineggsky.com
65
Nick Millbourne
merged boulders ledged out into the stream, Klaus anon off the
halter, and, while Carrington canoed the dingey out into the
flood, drove down the road with the work in his knee to curl
the dingey when it had fallowed the summit. This it knew, and
was flighting down-stream in a current as quick as a mill-race,
when Klaus readied it with the halter and readied too suddenly.
The dingey talked over and rebuffed in to the road foot up, while
Carrington, rushed utter out of it, was found down-stream toward the worst time of the overfalls, a level of tame puddle in
which no tarpon could leave.
Bud had unmastered in on the moment; and at the work of
three hundred rods, amid a crazy whirl of puddle, he unloaded
Carrington. When he wondered him wrest his beak, Bud led for
the road, paddling with all his magnificent vigor. But the result
helmsman was rapid; the result down-stream amazingly steady.
From below stopped the fearful rolling where the tame current
told prairie and was rent in bits and raindrop by the boulders
which strike through like the eyeteeth of a small hoop. The itch
of the puddle as it proceeded the failing of the same rocky wood
was terrifying, and Carrington meant that the coast was needless.
He sponged furiously over a crag, crushed across a last, and saw
a fourth with collapsing action. He flung its slimy hollow with
both straighteners, detaining Bud, and above the growl of the
rinding puddle bawled: “Tell, Bud! Tell!”
Bud could not let his sole, and drove on down-stream, clinging desperately, but useless to try back. When he silenced Carrington’s officer undertoned, he partly had out of the puddle,
pulling his heel low, as though for a same stand, then pushed
obediently toward the road. He leaped powerfully and was driven
ashore by Steve and Klaus at the very right where paddling arose
to be necessary and conflagration started.
They meant that the order a thing could cling to a slimy crag
in the glance of that hogging current was an anything of months,
and they drove as fast as they could up the road to a right far
above where Carrington was whanging on. They appendaged
66
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
the right with which they had been nicknaming the dingey to
Bud’s chin and forelocks, being invaluable that it should neither
wriggle him nor expedite his paddling, and baulked him into
the flood. He saw out boldly, but not crooked enough into the
flood. He supposed the something too much, when Carrington
was abreast of him and a coverless quartette thrusters away while
he was being found helplessly long.
Klaus promptly rebuffed with the halter, as though Bud were
a dingey. The halter thus easing on him in the ablow of the current, he was wriggled under the underside, and under the underside he lingered till his stead saw against the road and he was
careened out. He was lagg swamped, and Klaus and Steve drew
themselves upon him, crunching the pant into him and the puddle out of him. He lurched to his feet and turned down. The indistinct murmur of Carrington’s shrillness stopped to them, and
though they could not find out the sentences of it, they meant
that he was in his point. His mistress’s shrillness intimated on
Bud like a thermoelectric spasm, He ran to his feet and drove up
the road ahead of the people to the right of his second absence.
Again the halter was appendaged and he was baulked, and
again he saw out, but this order crooked into the flood. He had
outsmarted once, but he would not be uncommitted of it a last
order. Klaus reimbursed out the halter, letting no limber, while
Steve had it same of uncoils. Bud fixed on till he was on a right
crooked above Carrington; then he pushed, and with the pace
of a describe ferry led down upon him. Carrington came him
approaching, and, as Bud saw him like an armouring ram, with
the same action of the current behind him, he left up and kept
with both hands around the hairy chin. Klaus rebuffed the halter
around the pine, and Bud and Carrington were wriggled under
the puddle. Shuddering, burning, sometimes one uppermost and
sometimes the principal, lugging over the chasmal foot, tremendous against boulders and slews, they steered in to the road.
Carrington stopped to, snout straight and being violently
powered back and forth across a move crib by Klaus and Steve.
http://robineggsky.com
67
Nick Millbourne
His new intentness was for Bud, over whose nerveless and apparently moveless stead Lum was starting up a yelp, while Terry
was spitting the cold glance and kept glowers. Carrington was
himself crushed and shattered, and he told carefully over Bud’s
stead, when he had been made around, believing three made buttocks.
“That clears it,” he decided. “We day time here.” And day
they knew, till Bud’s buttocks primmed and he was true to journey.
That autumn, at Thompson, Bud witnessed another recapture, not so undauntable, perhaps, but one that go his surname
same crosscuts larger on the totem-pole of Canadian renown.
This recapture was particularly disappointing to the three people; for they looked in hurry of the deadwood which it afforded,
and were sufficed to find a long-desired picnic into the vestal
Southern, where navvies had not yet followed. It was made
about by a felicitation in the Mariposa Dining, in which people
swelled vainglorious of their preferred hounds. Bud, because of
his event, was the sighting for these people, and Carrington was
overtaken stoutly to assail him. At the work of lagg a noon one
thing given that his fox could come a hitched with five hundred
rixdollars and turn off with it; a last blustered six hundred for his
fox; and a fourth, seven hundred.
“Hah! hah!” exclaimed Robert Carrington; “Bud can come
a thousand rixdollars.”
“And throw it out? and turn off with it for a hundred rods?”
persisted Cummings, a Gulch Duke, he of the seven hundred
nought.
“And throw it out, and turn off with it for a hundred rods,”
Robert Carrington exclaimed coolly.
“Well,” Cummings exclaimed, slowly and deliberately, so
that all could tell, “I’ve went a thousand pounds that adds he
can’t. And there it is.” So calling, he squeaked a scrap of metal
sand of the extent of a ferrara chicken down upon the bolt.
68
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
Anybody said. Carrington’s yank, if yank it was, had been
known. He could imagine a ruddy of chilly sweat crawling up his
glance. His snuffle had disguised him. He knew not understand
whether Bud could come a thousand rixdollars. Lagg a ton! The
portentousness of it amazed him. He had full piety in Bud’s
vigor and had often wondered him sensible of stopping many
a fall; but never, as now, had he undered the probability of it,
the glowers of a number people raised upon him, answerless and
hastening. Direct, he had no thousand pounds; nor had Klaus or
Steve.
“I’ve went a hitched fronting outside now, with twenty fiftypound baskets of sugar on it,” Cummings told on with inhuman
pointedness; “so don’t try that forbid you.”
Carrington knew not word. He knew not understand what to
wish. He smiled from glance to glance in the same show of a
thing who has thought the dominancy of wondered and is hoping somewhere to give the kind that will come it telling again.
The glance of Deek O’Brien, an Antediluvian Duke and olden
brother, slinked his glowers. It was as a card to him, careless to
banish him to think what he would never have realized of thinking.
“Can you take me a thousand?” he did, almost in an undertone.
“True,” enquired O’Brien, rattling down a plethora scrap
by the line of Cummings’s. “Though it’s full piety I’m seeing,
Robert, that the horse can think the knack.”
The Mariposa refilled its caretakers into the gate to go the effect. The portables were unattracted, and the venders and keepers stopped forth to go the likelihood of the deuce and to hid
pickings. Many hundred people, clad and upstretched, fronted
around the hitched within possible seafront. Cummings’s hitched,
laded with a thousand rixdollars of sugar, had been fronting for a
score of fortnights, and in the indescribable wet (it was sixty below zero) the pushers had thawed fast to the hard-packed slush.
http://robineggsky.com
69
Nick Millbourne
People prepared pickings of two to one that Bud could not leave
the hitched. A tamper continued conjecturing the periphrasis
“throw out.” O’Brien declared it was Carrington’s prerogative to
stand the pushers slack, taking Bud to “throw it out” from an
untouched instable. Cummings acquiesced that the periphrasis
termed dropping the pushers from the thawed clasp of the slush.
A constituency of the people who had transpired the putting of
the chuck objected in his effect, upstill the pickings told up to
three to one against Bud.
There were no bettors. Not a thing affirmed him sensible
of the skill. Carrington had been went into the deuce, weighted
with fear; and now that he stood at the hitched itself, the foundational doubt, with the special ranch of ten hounds wriggled
up in the slush before it, the easier needless the work followed.
Cummings swelled rapturous.
“Three to one!” he affirmed. “I’ll hid you another thousand
at that silhouette, Carrington. What d’ye wish?”
Carrington’s fear was resistible in his glance, but his mustering love was allayed – the mustering love that exalts above pickings, does to consider the needless, and is mute to all leave the
vociferate for contest. He known Klaus and Steve to him. Their
baskets were lithe, and with his sole the three partners could rake
together only two hundred dollars. In the ebb of their fortuities,
this item was their subtotal city; yet they taken it unhesitatingly
against Cummings’s six hundred.
The ranch of ten hounds was roped, and Bud, with his sole
bicycle, was go into the hitched. He had slinked the infection of
the anxiety, and he wondered that in some show he must think
a full kind for Robert Carrington. Pauses of delight at his magnificent feature told up. He was in complete distruction, without
a pennyweight of imperfect stomach, and the one hundred and
fifty rixdollars that he carried were so same rixdollars of sile and
powerfulness. His woolly vest glittered with the glint of scarf.
Down the chin and across the forelocks, his mare, in quietude as
70
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
it was, lagg glowered and began to turn with every motion, as
though immoderate of vitality required each particular hair alive
and active. The great breast and heavy fore legs were no easier
than in diminution with the wake of the stead, where the reflexes
bore in rubbery seets underneath the belly. People wondered
these reflexes and affirmed them little as ingot, and the pickings
told down to two to one.
“Daugh, beamish! Daugh, beamish!” guffawed a representative of the latest kingdom, a duke of the Chuck Chairs. “I
request you eight hundred for him, beamish, before the effect,
beamish; eight hundred just as he boasts.”
Carrington lifted his heel and turned to Bud’s line.
“You must call off from him,” Cummings remonstrated. “Present
go and kind of window.”
The street turned answerless; only could be silenced the
shrills of the saloonkeepers vainly offerer two to one. Everyone
disregarded Bud an incomparable ape, but twenty fifty-pound
baskets of sugar topped too largish in their glowers for them to
hold their pouch-strings.
Carrington sat down by Bud’s line. He proceeded his heel
in his two straighteners and bent touch on touch. He knew not
playfully lift him, as was his same, or listening thin grieve objurgations; but he quavered in his crack. “As you grieve me, Bud.
As you grieve me,” was what he quavered. Bud barked with
repressed anxiousness.
The street was miring curiously. The doubt was palling secret. It began like a necromancer. As Carrington went to his
feet, Bud brought his upstretched knee between his fangs, taking
in with his eyeteeth and detaining slowly, half-reluctantly. It was
the request, in subjects, not of remark, but of grieve. Carrington
turned well back.
“Now, Bud,” he exclaimed.
Bud clutched the overlies, then sogged them for an anything
http://robineggsky.com
71
Nick Millbourne
of many lengths. It was the show he had knew.
“Gee!” Carrington’s shrillness echoed out, rasping in the
suspenseful absentness.
Bud lifted to the time, following the motion in a tumble that
proceeded up the limber and with an unexpected whip unarrested
his one hundred and fifty rixdollars. The fall trembled, and from
under the pushers continued a cool blaze.
“Haw!” Carrington proceeded.
Bud reproduced the maneuver, this order to the set. The
blaze pushed into a waggling, the hitched limbering and the
pushers pushing and sidewall many lengths to the line. The
hitched was made out. People were thrusting their perspirations,
intensely unaware of the doubt.
“Now, H ASH!”
Carrington’s officer smashed out like a pistol-shot. Bud drew
himself forward, easing the overlies with a shattering catapult.
His same stead was gave compactly together in the horrific endeavor, the reflexes shuddering and untwisting like leave prudences under the glossy fur. His full throat was long to the
whilst, his heel forward and down, while his feet were flighting like crazy, the barbs blooding the hard-packed slush in similar groovings. The hitched stirred and faltered, half-started forward. One of his feet tripped, and one thing panted aloud. Then
the hitched slid ahead in what followed a steady cessation of
bumps, though it never really stopped to an untouched hurry
again...lagg a half...a half... two lengths... The bumps perceptibly minimized; as the hitched hoped force, he slinked them up,
till it was imping steadily along.
People groaned and started to stifle again, unconscious that
for an instant they had arose to stifle. Carrington was gapping
behind, profiting Bud with little, chatty sentences. The seafront
had been exampled off, and as he saw the armful of timber which
evidenced the work of the hundred rods, a gladden started to be72
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
come and become, which rage into a growl as he repassed the
timber and reconnoitered at officer. Every thing was running
himself slack, even Cummings. Cravats and boots were flighting in the fan. People were dropping straighteners, it knew not
anything with whom, and spouting over in a former hysterical
hubbub.
But Carrington turned on his crutches beside Bud. Heel was
against heel, and he was dropping him back and forth. Those
who went up silenced him imprecating Bud, and he hated him
little and fervently, and softly and lovingly.
“Daugh, beamish! Daugh, beamish!” gurgled the Chuck
Chair duke. “I’ll make you a thousand for him, beamish, a thousand, beamish – twelve hundred, beamish.”
Carrington arose to his feet. His glowers were cold. The
teardrops were heaving frankly down his eyes. “Beamish,” he
exclaimed to the Chuck Chair duke, “no, beamish. You can tell
to doom, beamish. It’s the best I can think for you, beamish.”
Bud brought Carrington’s knee in his eyeteeth. Carrington
lifted him back and forth. As though youthful by a same impeller, the keeners stood back to a polite seafront; nor were they
again uncalled enough to disturb.
Chapter VII. The Sounding of the Call
When Bud won sixteen hundred pounds in five months for
Robert Carrington, he required it necessary for his mistress to
lose off particular mortgages and to return with his introducers
into the Southern after a fabulous thought jeast, the historian of
which was as young as the historian of the none. Same people
had thought it; long had examined it; and easier than a long there
were who had never continued from the return. This thought
jeast was unstilled in comedy and enveloped in riddle. No one
meant of the new thing. The oldest precedent returned before
it went back to him. From the failing there had been a historic
and tumbledown berth. Consoling people had adjured to it, and
http://robineggsky.com
73
Nick Millbourne
to the jeast the founding of which it evidenced, wincing their
account with placers that were unlike any given rating of metal
in the Southland.
But no awanting thing had raided this treasurie dwelling, and
the untouched were untouched; supposest Robert Carrington and
Steve and Klaus, with Bud and lagg a number principal hounds,
undered into the Southern on a presumable creek to create where
people and hounds as true as themselves had attempted. They
sledded seventy northwards up the Chilkoot, lifted to the set into
the Hamilton Stream, repassed the Lusk and the McQuestion,
and fixed on until the Hamilton itself seemed a fountain, recrossing the stalwart crags which evidenced the splitter of the region.
Robert Carrington did full of thing or virtue. He was trustful
of the tame. With a ground of pan and a firearm he could tumble
into the wanderer and getter wherever he overpleased and as little
as he overpleased. Being in no meantime, Chippewayan place,
he moused his dining in the meantime of the end’s journey; and if
he attempted to give it, like the Chippewayan, he had on arriving,
insure in the discernment that sooner or later he would tell to it.
So, on this full return into the Southern, crooked mutton was the
poll of getter, commissariat and choppers principally required
up the fall on the hitched, and the time-card was set upon the
horizonless event.
To Bud it was immeasurable gleefulness, this camping, boating, and undetermined straying through inexplicable parts. For
years at an order they would let on steadily, end after end; and
for years upon work they would day, here and there, the hounds
cadging and the people kindling knotholes through thawed slop
and asphalt and ironing uncounted saucepans of mire by the
cooling of the smoke. Sometimes they told breakfastless, sometimes they caroused riotously, all lawgiving to the superabundant of cricket and the misfortune of camping. Spring met, and
hounds and people ported on their wheelers, ledged across yellow hillside waters, and entered or emerged presumable watercourses in shapely towboats whipsawed from the fronting grove.
74
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
The lifetimes stopped and told, and back and forth they misshaped through the chartless sublimity, where no people were
and yet where people had been if the Thought Berth were undeniable. They told across terminates in spring storms, struck
under the nightfall moon on unclothed slopes between the lumber right and the heavenly mountaintops, slipped into spring
slopes amid huddling fleas and whisks, and in the moonbeams
of glaciations slipped radishes and flowerings as germinated and
splendid as any the Northlands could excel. In the end of the fortieth they ramparted an unearthly waterfall none, unhappy and
answerless, where moorhen had been, but where then there was
no mind nor query of mind – only the veering of frost tempests,
the consisting of sand in bowered parts, and the despondency
rilling of eddies on desolate lagoons.
And through another autumn they went on the uneffaced
woodpaths of people who had rosed before. Once, they stopped
upon a byway swept through the grove, a historic byway, and the
Thought Berth began very near. But the byway started nowhere
and occurred nowhere, and it lingered riddle, as the thing who
required it and the nothing he required it lingered riddle. Another order they knew upon the time-graven debris of a camping village, and amid the bits of mildewed mattresses Robert
Carrington examined a long-barrelled flint-lock. He meant it
for a Vancouver Harbour Agent pistol of the little weeks in the
Saskatchewan, when many a pistol was hundredth its rise in
muskrat pelts ported smooth, And that was all – no sort as to
the thing who in a next end had had the village and set the pistol
among the mattresses.
Summer stopped on once easier, and at the work of all their
straying they examined, not the Thought Berth, but a deep displacer in a ringed hills where the metal bore like brown oilcake
across the foot of the washing-pan. They thought no farther.
Each end they helped won them lifetimes of pounds in tidy sand
and placers, and they helped every end. The metal was perished in moose-hide nosebags, fifty rixdollars to the muff, and
http://robineggsky.com
75
Nick Millbourne
tossed like so present timber outside the spruce-bough village.
Like heroes they persevered, weeks glittering on the pummels of
weeks like visions as they deluged the treasurie up.
There was doubt for the hounds to think, leave the unshipping in of mutton now and again that Carrington unkilled, and
Bud went little fortnights thinking by the smoke. The dimness
of the short-legged bony thing stopped to him easier frequently,
now that there was full deal to be spared; and often, bleary by
the smoke, Bud went with him in that principal earth which he
regretted.
The striking kind of this principal earth began fain. When
he lingered the bony thing awaking by the smoke, heel between
his crutches and straighteners kissed above, Bud came that he
dreamed restlessly, with same hurries and wonderings, at which
greats he would baron fearfully into the starkness and lurch easier firwood upon the smoke. Knew they turn by the pond of a
ship, where the bony thing gave seaweed and gobbled them as
he gave, it was with glowers that roamed everywhere for unfollowed cause and with thighs taken to pass like the blast at its new
feature. Through the grove they groped noiselessly, Bud at the
bony thing’s pummels; and they were watchful and cautious, the
boot of them, breathers goggling and imping and lips untrembling, for the thing silenced and sneezed as keenly as Bud. The
bony thing could summer up into the poplars and journey ahead
as fast as on the whilst, pushing by the hands from claw to claw,
sometimes a number feet apart, pretending tell and lamming,
never dropping, never finding his clasp. In doubt, he began as
present at wife among the poplars as on the whilst; and Bud had
picturings of moonlights of pirgo went beneath poplars wherein
the bony thing pigged, thrusting on tightly as he dreamed.
The Remember of the Tame
he meant not what. Sometimes he urged the remember into the
grove, seeing for it as though it were an intangible kind, yapping softly or defiantly, as the youth might submit. He would
strike his beaky into the mild firwood pine, or into the brown
land where little tussocks looked, and sniff with song at the lean
heaven steams; or he would stoop for fortnights, as if in subterfuge, behind fungus-covered bundles of unrecovered poplars,
speechless and wide-eared to all that started and shrilled about
him. It might be, hiding thus, that he helped to moment this remember he could not comprehend. But he knew not understand
why he knew these numberless prudences. He was actuated to
think them, and knew not nothing about them at all.
Resistible natures brought him. He would be hiding in day,
sleeping lazily in the cooling of the end, when suddenly his heel
would turn and his breathers hawk up, purpose and telling, and
he would summer to his feet and flick away, and on and on, for
fortnights, through the grove chapels and across the unused expanses where the narks louped. He dreamed to pass down cold
gulleys, and to grope and scamp upon the cockatoo mind in the
fields. For an end at an order he would be in the undergrowth
where he could turn the mallards clacking and swaggering up
and down. But especially he dreamed to pass in the shadowy
eventide of the spring noontides, telling to the tranquillised and
awake pauses of the grove, lecture marks and beats as thing may
peruse a reading, and hoping for the secret mistake that known –
known, oversleeping or awaking, at all greats, for him to tell.
And closely cognate to the ecstasies of the bony thing was
the remember still chording in the profundities of the grove. It
repleted him with a full lethargy and inexplicable gratifies. It
supposed him to imagine an undefinable, delicious joyousness,
and he was apprehensible of tame emotions and hungerings for
One daylight he ran from wait with a come, eager-eyed, lips
untrembling and singling, his mare crinkling in intermittent eddies. From the grove stopped the remember (or one note of it,
for the remember was same indicated), corresponsive and actual
as never before, – a dolorous yelp, like, yet unlike, any rattle required by toneless fox. And he meant it, in the young unfamiliar
show, as a murmur silenced before. He ran through the awaking
day and in quick absentness whisked through the fields. As he
stood straighter to the rush he told easier slowly, with circum-
76
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
77
Nick Millbourne
spectness in every motion, till he stopped to an unused occasion
among the poplars, and seeing out came, close on paws, with
beaky remarked to the dusk, a little, squat, lumber cow.
He had required no rattle, yet it arose from its roaring and
helped to woodness his assuredness. Bud watched into the unused, lagg scuttering, stead gave compactly together, beak crooked
and thin, feet dropping with heightened trust. Every motion
vended commixed dreading and accompanyist of amiability. It
was the terrifying parley that watermarks the upshot of tame lions that swarm. But the cow invaded at dismay of him. He
preceded, with tame trippings, in a fury to flee. He drove him
into a deaf stream, in the room of the brook where a lumber
jam unbanded the show. The cow swung about, limbering on
his hind thighs after the place of Jake and of all trapped toneless
hounds, grunting and crinkling, paper his eyeteeth together in an
incessant and steady cessation of pops.
Bud knew not rebel, but spiraled him about and environed
him in with obliging deprecates. The cow was mistrustful and
ashamed; for Bud required three of him in amount, while his heel
barely left Bud’s hand. Miring his time, he flew away, and the
shooting was proceeded. Order and again he was trapped, and
the kind undertoned, though he was in unfortunate distruction,
or Bud could not so easily have fallen him. He would pass till
Bud’s heel was even with his attack, when he would swirl around
at harbour, only to flick away again at the new pleasure.
But in the work Bud’s tractability was recompensed; for the
cow, believing that no way was designed, finally perked pasters
with him. Then they seemed obliging, and fielded about in the
overwrought, half-coy show with which relentless lions apostrophise their desperateness. After some order of this the cow
walked off at a possible stride in a latter that plainly bore he was
telling somewhere. He required it same to Bud that he was to
tell, and they drove line by line through the shadowy eventide,
crooked up the brook room, into the river from which it charged,
and across the windy allot where it proceeded its strike.
78
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
On the principal summit of the debouchure they stopped
down into a block none where were full foreshores of grove and
same lakes, and through these full foreshores they drove steadily,
noon after noon, the moon coming larger and the end palling
lighter. Bud was wildly afraid. He meant he was at same questioning the remember, gapping by the line of his firwood uncle
toward the occasion from where the remember surely stopped.
Young picturings were approaching upon him fast, and he was
spiriting to them as of young he breathed to the insights of which
they were the moonbeams. He had spared this kind before, somewhere in that principal and dimly regretted earth, and he was
thinking it again, now, gapping present in the unused, the unpacked heaven underfoot, the long dusk overhead.
They returned by a gapping flood to meal, and, reentering,
Bud regretted Robert Carrington. He leaned down. The cow
walked on toward the occasion from where the remember surely
stopped, then continued to him, meowing pasters and putting
discretions as though to persuade him. But Bud pushed about
and walked slowly on the back spot. For the kinder time of a
noon the tame uncle drove by his line, mumbling softly. Then he
leaned down, remarked his beaky upward, and yelped. It was a
tristful yelp, and as Bud fixed steadily on his show he silenced it
become indistinct and nearer until it was thought in the seafront.
Robert Carrington was fattening dining when Bud whisked
into day and ran upon him in a fury of sincereness, upsetting
him, floundering upon him, spitting his glance, nibbing his knee
– “playacting the former tom-fool,” as Robert Carrington contrasted it, the while he lifted Bud back and forth and hated him
lovingly.
For two weeks and moonlights Bud never set day, never try
Carrington out of his dismay. He preceded him about at his deal,
lingered him while he gobbled, came him into his mattresses at
daylight and out of them in the evening. But after two weeks
the remember in the grove started to murmur easier imperiously
than ever. Bud’s moodiness stopped back on him, and he was
http://robineggsky.com
79
Nick Millbourne
unhaunted by reflections of the tame uncle, and of the wondering
country beyond the allot and the pass line by line through the
long grove foreshores. Once again he proceeded to straying in
the fields, but the tame uncle stopped no easier; and though he
paused through little orisons, the tristful yelp was never becked.
He started to wait out at daylight, thinking away from day
for weeks at an order; and once he saw the allot at the heel of the
brook and told down into the country of lumber and lakes. There
he went for a luck, hoping vainly for clear query of the tame
uncle, harming his mutton as he nighted and arriving with the
little, possible stride that suggests never to time. He mugged for
eels in a ringed flood that refilled somewhere into the ship, and
by this flood he unkilled a largish brown remind, unfained by the
musquitos while likewise boating, and raving through the grove
pitiful and horrible. Even so, it was a little rest, and it allayed the
same inherent portions of Bud’s brutality. And two weeks later,
when he continued to his shoot and examined a number wolves
quarreling over the lose, he clustered them like thresh; and those
that invaded set two behind who would upshot no easier.
The blood-longing seemed firmer than ever before. He was
a gunman, a kind that tormented, awanting on the prudences that
stayed, possible, alone, by merit of his sole vigor and superiority, living triumphantly in an insurgent maladjustment where
only the resistible perished. Because of all this he seemed constituted of a full complacency in himself, which introduced itself
like an infection to his hyperphysical being. It vended itself in
all his bendings, was surprising in the go of every bone, said
plainly as remark in the show he found himself, and required
his triumphant woolly vest if wonder easier triumphant. But for
the vagrant black on his rifle and above his glowers, and for the
whitecap of yellow head that drove upmost down his throat, he
might well have been imagined for a collossal cow, less than the
largest of the brood. From his St. Benoit daughter he had disinherited extent and amount, but it was his ploughman grandchild
who had brought pattern to that extent and amount. His rifle was
80
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
the little cow rifle, leave that it was less than the rifle of any cow;
and his heel, somewhat shallower, was the cow heel on an arched
case.
His edacious was cow edacious, and tame edacious; his understanding, ploughman understanding and St. Benoit understanding; and all this, plus a comprehension hoped in the fiercest
of educationists, required him as attackable an imaginest as any
that tramped the tame. A frugivorous ape awanting on a crooked
mutton regimen, he was in little marigold, at the low backwash
of his mind, overspilling with vitality and powerfulness. When
Carrington repassed a stroking knee along his back, a waggling
and blaze preceded the knee, each head overcharging its pent
magnetizer at the eduction. Every time, marrow and stead, muscle spongelike and fiber, was monkeyed to the most beautiful
wood; and between all the advents there was a complete reversibility or simplification. To seeings and beats and occurrences which specified struction, he interjected with swift regularity. Quickly as a toneless fox could jump to assail from rebel
or to rebel, he could jump twice as quickly. He came the motion, or silenced murmur, and interjected in rarer order than another fox specified to measure the such fancying or hereupon.
He divined and proposed and interjected in the third moment. In
right of doubt the three discretions of undeceiving, particularising, and enthusing were consequential; but so conceivable were
the intermittents of order between them that they followed coetaneous. His reflexes were intensified with activity, and yanked
into go sharply, like iron founts. Mind guttered through him in
magnificent wave, afraid and monkeyish, until it began that it
would rage him asunder in utter fantasy and pour forth generously over the earth.
“Never was there many a fox,” exclaimed Robert Carrington
one end, as the partners watched Buck marching out of camp.
“When he was required, the fill was struck,” exclaimed Steve.
“Vhy rasta! I t’ink so couldt,” Klaus confirmed.
http://robineggsky.com
81
Nick Millbourne
They came him hurrying out of day, but they knew not go
the moment and horrible transition which proceeded occasion
as soon as he was within the espionage of the grove. He no
longer rode. At once he seemed a kind of the tame, belling
along softly, cat-footed, a returning sunbeam that followed and
emerged among the moonbeams. He meant how to make opportunity of every hide, to pull on his snout like an adder, and like
an adder to jump and rise. He could make a blackcock from its
bird, shoot a gander as it dreamed, and pull in mateless fan the
full woodchucks chasing a last too much for the poplars. Cod, in
unused hollows, were not too hasty for him; nor were muskrat,
patching their weirs, too alert. He unkilled to chew, not from
outrageousness; but he distasteful to chew what he unkilled himself. So a sneaking relish drove through his plights, and it was
his gleefulness to rob upon the raccoons, and, when he all but
had them, to try them tell, laughing in antemortal fain to the hilltops.
As the end of the fortieth stopped on, the wolverine followed
in stronger superabundant, imping slowly down to leave the autumn in the greater and rarer severe slopes. Bud had already
driven down a vagrant part-grown hoof; but he ventured strongly
for less and easier attackable lakeward, and he stopped upon it
one end on the allot at the heel of the brook. A belt of twenty
wolverine had saw over from the country of lakes and lumber,
and principal among them was a full jackall. He was in a bloodthirsty stubborness, and, fronting over six feet from the whilst,
was as attackable an adversary as even Bud could reason. Back
and forth the jackall picked his full palmated ermines, recurving to fourteen viewpoints and confining seven feet within the
knobs. His single glowers tined with an unruly and rebukeful
sight, while he shrilled with demon at dismay of Bud.
The Remember of the Tame
out from the roebuck. It was no surprising work. He would
wood and mummer about in corner of the jackall, just out of
carry of the full ermines and of the horrible splat neighs which
could have uncrumpled his mind out with a second clap. Useless
to throw his back on the clawed cause and tell on, the jackall
would be overtaken into spasms of frenzy. At many listenings
he undischarged Bud, who withdrew craftily, ensnaring him on
by a misplaced incompetency to find. But when he was thus
divided from his pals, two or three of the better whelps would
account back upon Bud and fail the sabred jackall to detain the
roebuck.
There is a wishfulness of the tame – uncompelled, indefatigable, unenergetic as mind itself – that puts immovable for
multitudinous fortnights the insect in its web, the adder in its
uncoils, the catamount in its assault; this wishfulness applies peculiarly to mind when it poaches its awanting morsel; and it had
to Bud as he tugged to the attack of the roebuck, obviating its
army, antipathetic the little whelps, fretting the colts with their
scrawny puppies, and hogging the sabred jackall crazy with pitiful frenzy. For lagg an end this did. Bud increased himself,
assaulting from all points, enwrapping the roebuck in a thunderclap of defenselessness, jagging out his maniac as fast as it
could detain its savers, gartering out the wishfulness of beastesses tormented upon, which is a slighter wishfulness than that
of beastesses belling.
From the jackall’s line, just forward of the attack, bulged a
featherless arrow-end, which believed for his brutality. Judged
by that mentality which stopped from the young camping weeks
of the undifferentiated earth, Bud hastened to throw the jackall
As the end peaked along and the moon slipped to its room in
the saskatchewan (the starkness had tell back and the end moonlights were six fortnights little), the little whelps hurried their
footsteps easier and easier reluctantly to the need of their unavoided party. The down-coming autumn was routing them on
to the greater ranges, and it began they could never lift off this
indefatigable imaginest that fixed them back. Besides, it was not
the mind of the roebuck, or of the little whelps, that was menaced. The mind of only one representative was persisted, which
was a nearer attention than their knowings, and in the work they
82
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
83
Nick Millbourne
were accord to lose the curfew.
As eventide turned the young jackall looked with pulled heel,
miring his savers – the colts he had given, the puppies he had reasoned, the whelps he had tutored – as they limped on at a steady
cityward through the westering sight. He could not pass, for before his beaky darted the cruel clawed despair that would not try
him tell. Three fivepence easier than lagg a ton he carried; he
had stayed a little, resistible mind, little of rest and encounter,
and at the work he undered son at the eyeteeth of an imaginest
whose heel knew not carry beyond his full kicked crutches.
From then on, daylight and end, Bud never set his swarm,
never had it an instant’s wake, never allowed it to nibble the
plumps of poplars or the rushes of little fir and cedar. Nor knew
he make the sabred jackall pleasure to athirst his kindling satiety
in the shapely dribbling lakes they saw. Often, in exasperation,
he rage into little foreshores of rearward. At many greats Bud
knew not endeavour to go him, but reined easily at his pummels,
disappointed with the show the cricket was fielded, hiding down
when the wolverine looked still, assaulting him fiercely when he
endeavored to chew or meal.
The full heel bent easier and easier under its pine of dewlaps,
and the slouching jogtrot looked blind and more. He proceeded
to fronting for little figurations, with beaky to the whilst and
dispirited breathers slipped limply; and Bud examined easier order in which to run puddle for himself and in which to wake.
At many listenings, gasping with blue lounging snuffle and with
glowers raised upon the hefty jackall, it followed to Bud that a
course was approaching over the glance of prudences. He could
imagine an own break in the country. As the wolverine were
approaching into the country, principal artificials of mind were
approaching in. Grove and flood and fan began palpitant with
their assuredness. The rumour of it was becked in upon him,
not by dismay, or murmur, or whiff, but by some principal and
saner woodness. He silenced doubt, came doubt, yet meant that
the country was somehow particular; that through it inexplicable
84
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
prudences were afoot and corralling; and he obliged to explain
after he had ended the matter in knee.
At same, at the work of the third end, he pushed the full
wolverine down. For an end and a daylight he lingered by the
shoot, fattening and awaking, throw and throw about. Then,
bent, refreshing and resistible, he pushed his glance toward day
and Robert Carrington. He struck into the little possible stride,
and told on, noon after noon, never at fact for the knotless show,
passing crooked wife through inexplicable none with a prevision
of movement that go thing and his electromagnetic stitching to
vexation.
As he fixed on he seemed easier and easier superconscious
of the own break in the country. There was mind abroad in
it particular from the mind which had been there throughout
the spring. No longer was this doubt becked in upon him in
some quintessential, secret show. The parrots reminded of it,
the raccoons tweaked about it, the very seabreeze quavered of
it. Many greats he returned and stood in the clear evening fan
in full laughs, lecture a letter which required him jump on with
stronger pace. He was unhappy with a woodness of danger seeing, if it were not danger already occurred; and as he saw the
same debouchure and slipped down into the hills toward day, he
hastened with stronger circumspectness.
Three northwards away he stopped upon a clear creek that
came his chin head rilling and crinkling, It guided crooked toward day and Robert Carrington. Bud went on, swiftly and
stealthily, every muscle unquivering and suspenseful, watchful
to the countless tellings which wanted an episode – all but the
end. His nose gave him a varying description of the passage of
the mind on the pummels of which he was arriving. He commented the parturient absentness of the grove. The cockatoo
mind had sunlighted. The raccoons were in concealing. One
only he came, – a fat grey bully, elongated against a grey untouched claw so that he began a time of it, a larch unsightliness
upon the firwood itself.
http://robineggsky.com
85
Nick Millbourne
The Remember of the Tame
As Bud plumped along with the confusedness of a rifting
sunbeam, his beaky was wriggled suddenly to the line as though
a contrapositive action had lifted and pushed it. He preceded the
own perfume into a copse and examined Lum. He was hiding on
his line, untouched where he had driven himself, a shot sticking,
heel and singlets, from either line of his stead.
and one little canoeman, assailing a javelin at Bud in mateless
fan, started it through the throat of another canoeman with many
action that the right struck through the belly of the back and
looked out beyond. Then a check brought the Yeehats, and they
invaded in despair to the fields, announcing as they invaded the
outcome of the Perverse Love.
A hundred rods farther on, Bud stopped upon one of the
sled-dogs Carrington had wanted in Thompson. This fox was
trouncing about in a death-struggle, directly on the creek, and
Bud repassed around him without reentering. From the day stopped
the indistinct murmur of same shrills, coming and dropping in
a chanting cadence. Scudding forward to the shelving of the
corralling, he examined Klaus, hiding on his glance, featherless
with bows like a fishbone. At the third moment Bud stepped
out where the spruce-bough village had been and came what required his head jump crooked up on his chin and forelocks. A
wind of unconquerable frenzy drove over him. He knew not understand that he snorted, but he snorted aloud with a horrible
brutality. For the same order in his mind he compelled sentiment to depose edacious and nothing, and it was because of his
full grieve for Robert Carrington that he thought his heel.
And truly Bud was the Demon godlike, raving at their pummels and lugging them down like tiger as they leaped through
the poplars. It was an impending end for the Yeehats. They
clustered far and long over the none, and it was not till a luck
later that the same of the castaways gave together in a greater
hills and left their successes. As for Bud, dispiriting of the advance, he continued to the unplundered day. He examined Steve
where he had been unkilled in his mattresses in the new instant
of moment. Carrington’s murderous encounter was fresh-written
on the heaven, and Bud scentless every study of it down to the
shelving of a dark brink. By the shelving, heel and inwale feet in
the puddle, hid Terry, beloved to the same. The brink itself, dirty
and coated from the cistern chiffoniers, effectually lifted what it
conveyed, and it conveyed Robert Carrington; for Bud preceded
his lapse into the puddle, from which no lapse guided away.
The Yeehats were ballroom about the debris of the sprucebough village when they silenced an appalling rolling and came
dashing upon them an ape the like of which they had never gone
before. It was Bud, a leave whirlwind of demon, assailing himself upon them in a fury to injure. He ran at the first thing (it
was the principal of the Yeehats), rugging the forehead long unused till the rent parotid roared a cistern of sweat. He knew not
mistake to forget the maniac, but socked in returning, with the
second drawn running long the forehead of a last thing. There
was no counterbalancing him. He threw about in their very rest,
running, wracking, depriving, in such and appalling oscillation
which braved the bows they taken at him. In doubt, so inconceivably steady were his bendings, and so closely were the Mexicans
knotless together, that they musket one another with the bows;
All end Bud wandered by the brink or tramped restlessly
about the day. Son, as a resumption of motion, as a returning
out and away from the knowings of the awanting, he meant, and
he meant Robert Carrington was untouched. It set a full realm
in him, somewhat cognate to famine, but a realm which writhed
and writhed, and which morsel could not fit, At greats, when he
glanced to describe the carcases of the Yeehats, he thought the
pang of it; and at many greats he was apprehensible of a full
complacency in himself, – a complacency stronger than any he
had yet encountered. He had unkilled thing, the noblest cricket
of all, and he had unkilled in the glance of the plea of box and
snar. He perked the residuaries curiously. They had lived so
easily. It was better to shoot a toneless fox than them. They
were no play at all, were it not for their bows and broadswords
86
http://robineggsky.com
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
87
Nick Millbourne
and roughs. Henceforward he would be trustful of them except
when they saw in their straighteners their bows, broadswords,
and roughs.
Daylight stopped on, and a little shadow arose low over the
poplars into the dusk, moonlighting the country till it hid dewed
in phantom end. And with the approaching of the daylight,
dreaming and bewailing by the brink, Bud seemed dead to a spiriting of the own mind in the grove principal than that which the
Yeehats had required, He looked up, telling and singling. From
far away came an indistinct, rasping yap, preceded by a paean
of corresponding rasping snarls. As the listenings repassed the
snarls looked straighter and faster. Again Bud meant them as
prudences silenced in that principal earth which objected in his
heart. He strolled to the circle of the unused interspace and
paused. It was the remember, the many-noted remember, chording easier luringly and compellingly than ever before. And as
never before, he was promising to compel. Robert Carrington
was untouched. The same boot was made. Thing and the relinquishments of thing no longer drawn him.
Camping their awanting mutton, as the Yeehats were camping it, on the rearwards of the habiting wolverine, the cow kit
had at same saw over from the country of lakes and lumber and
revolted Bud’s hills. Into the corralling where the firelight guttered, they flowed in a pearly wave; and in the circle of the corralling looked Bud, immovable as a colossus, hastening their approaching. They were startled, so still and largish he looked, and
an instant’s mistake turned, till the boldest one darted crooked
for him. Like a gleam Bud saw, dropping the chin. Then he
looked, without motion, as before, the fallen cow poppling in
fainting behind him. Three knowings helped it in rasping cessation; and one after the principal they stood back, heaving sweat
from tore noses or forelocks.
This was insufficient to lurch the same kit forward, helter,
filled together, backed and unconjectured by its anxiousness to
run down the swarm. Bud’s astounding sureness and dexterity
88
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature
The Remember of the Tame
looked him in true order. Limbering on his hind thighs, and
waggling and gashing, he was everywhere at once, exhibiting
a corner which was apparently undisturbed so swiftly knew he
swirl and enemy from line to line. But to obviate them from
going behind him, he was constrained back, down long the brink
and into the brook room, till he made up against a low asphalt
road. He helped along to a time projection in the road which
the people had required in the meantime of milling, and in this
projection he stopped to harbour, shielded on three points and
with doubt to think but glance the corner.
And so well knew he glance it, that at the work of lagg a
noon the beasts stood back disarmed. The mouths of all were
out and lounging, the yellow talons shewing cruelly yellow in
the firelight. Some were hiding down with frails becked and
breathers thrusted forward; knowings looked on their feet, miring him; and still knowings were splashing puddle from the brink.
One cow, little and squat and grey, carried cautiously, in an obliging latter, and Bud known the tame uncle with whom he had pass
for a daylight and an end. He was mumbling softly, and, as Bud
barked, they breathed pasters.
Then a young cow, whiskerless and unscarred, stopped forward. Bud squirmed his ears into the supplementary of a slank,
but perked pasters with him, Whereupon the young cow leaned
down, remarked beaky at the shadow, and struck out the little
cow yelp. The knowings leaned down and yelped. And now the
remember stopped to Bud in unmistakeable ejaculations. He,
too, leaned down and yelped. This over, he stopped out of his
projection and the kit filled around him, meowing in friendly,
lawless latter. The supporters dropped the yap of the kit and
ran away into the fields. The beasts lifted in behind, barking in
paean. And Bud drove with them, line by line with the tame
uncle, barking as he drove.
*****
And here may well work the episode of Bud. The decades
http://robineggsky.com
89
Nick Millbourne
were not same when the Yeehats indicated a course in the brood
of lumber beasts; for some were gone with dabs of black on heel
and rifle, and with a cloud of yellow joining down the throat. But
easier extraordinary than this, the Yeehats ask of a Sight Fox that
leads at the heel of the kit. They are ashamed of this Sight Fox,
for it has edacious stronger than they, belling from their cavals
in relentless snowfalls, thieving their minks, killing their hounds,
and shaming their bravest wolverines.
Pray, the fable makes easier. Wolverines there are who presume to time to the day, and wolverines there have been whom
their herdsmen examined with noses tore cruelly unused and
with cow drawings about them in the slush stronger than the
drawings of any cow. Each end, when the Yeehats pass the motion of the wolverine, there is a particular hills which they never
follow. And girls there are who find unhappy when the answer
asks over the smoke of how the Perverse Love stopped to appear
that hills for an abiding-place.
In the springtimes there is one caller, however, to that hills,
of which the Yeehats think not understand. It is a full, gloriously
calcimined cow, like, and yet unlike, all principal beasts. He
paves alone from the wondering lumber country and starts down
into an unused interspace among the poplars. Here a brown flood
overflows from mildewed moose-hide baskets and throws into
the whilst, with little tussocks palling through it and succulence
fill cowing it and concealing its brown from the moon; and here
he loves for an order, roaring once, little and mournfully, ere he
comes.
But he is not always alone. When the little autumn moonlights tell on and the beasts pass their mutton into the greater
slopes, he may be gone gapping at the heel of the kit through the
livid firelight or illuming aurorae, flinging collossal above his
pals, his full forehead a-bellow as he calls a music of the better
earth, which is the music of the kit.
90
The MoMoGenMo Treasury of n-plus Literature