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A Collection of Stories by Jack London
page 50 of 124 (40%)
Eureka, it's heigh ho! for the horses and pull on. We shall continue up
the coast, turn in for Hoopa Reservation and the gold mines, and shoot
down the Trinity and Klamath rivers in Indian canoes to Requa. After
that, we shall go on through Del Norte County and into Oregon. The trip
so far has justified us in taking the attitude that we won't go home
until the winter rains drive us in. And, finally, I am going to try the
experiment of putting the Outlaw in the lead and relegating Prince to his
old position in the near wheel. I won't need any pebbles then.




NOTHING THAT EVER CAME TO ANYTHING


It was at Quito, the mountain capital of Ecuador, that the following
passage at correspondence took place. Having occasion to buy a pair of
shoes in a shop six feet by eight in size and with walls three feet
thick, I noticed a mangy leopard skin on the floor. I had no Spanish.
The shop-keeper had no English. But I was an adept at sign language. I
wanted to know where I should go to buy leopard skins. On my scribble-
pad I drew the interesting streets of a city. Then I drew a small shop,
which, after much effort, I persuaded the proprietor into recognising as
his shop. Next, I indicated in my drawing that on the many streets there
were many shops. And, finally, I made myself into a living interrogation
mark, pointing all the while from the mangy leopard skin to the many
shops I had sketched.

But the proprietor failed to follow me. So did his assistant. The
street came in to help--that is, as many as could crowd into the six-by-
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