Love of Life, and Other Stories

by Jack London

  THE WHITE MAN'S WAY

  "To cook by your fire and to sleep under your roof for the night," I hadannounced on entering old Ebbits's cabin; and he had looked at me blear-eyed and vacuous, while Zilla had favored me with a sour face and acontemptuous grunt. Zilla was his wife, and no more bitter-tongued,implacable old squaw dwelt on the Yukon. Nor would I have stopped therehad my dogs been less tired or had the rest of the village beeninhabited. But this cabin alone had I found occupied, and in this cabin,perforce, I took my shelter.

  Old Ebbits now and again pulled his tangled wits together, and hints andsparkles of intelligence came and went in his eyes. Several times duringthe preparation of my supper he even essayed hospitable inquiries aboutmy health, the condition and number of my dogs, and the distance I hadtravelled that day. And each time Zilla had looked sourer than ever andgrunted more contemptuously.

  Yet I confess that there was no particular call for cheerfulness on theirpart. There they crouched by the fire, the pair of them, at the end oftheir days, old and withered and helpless, racked by rheumatism, bittenby hunger, and tantalized by the frying-odors of my abundance of meat.They rocked back and forth in a slow and hopeless way, and regularly,once every five minutes, Ebbits emitted a low groan. It was not so mucha groan of pain, as of pain-weariness. He was oppressed by the weightand the torment of this thing called life, and still more was heoppressed by the fear of death. His was that eternal tragedy of theaged, with whom the joy of life has departed and the instinct for deathhas not come.

  When my moose-meat spluttered rowdily in the frying-pan, I noticed oldEbbits's nostrils twitch and distend as he caught the food-scent. Heceased rocking for a space and forgot to groan, while a look ofintelligence seemed to come into his face.

  Zilla, on the other hand, rocked more rapidly, and for the first time, insharp little yelps, voiced her pain. It came to me that their behaviorwas like that of hungry dogs, and in the fitness of things I should nothave been astonished had Zilla suddenly developed a tail and thumped iton the floor in right doggish fashion. Ebbits drooled a little andstopped his rocking very frequently to lean forward and thrust histremulous nose nearer to the source of gustatory excitement.

  When I passed them each a plate of the fried meat, they ate greedily,making loud mouth-noises--champings of worn teeth and sucking intakes ofthe breath, accompanied by a continuous spluttering and mumbling. Afterthat, when I gave them each a mug of scalding tea, the noises ceased.Easement and content came into their faces. Zilla relaxed her sour mouthlong enough to sigh her satisfaction. Neither rocked any more, and theyseemed to have fallen into placid meditation. Then a dampness came intoEbbits's eyes, and I knew that the sorrow of self-pity was his. Thesearch required to find their pipes told plainly that they had beenwithout tobacco a long time, and the old man's eagerness for the narcoticrendered him helpless, so that I was compelled to light his pipe for him.

  "Why are you all alone in the village?" I asked. "Is everybody dead? Hasthere been a great sickness? Are you alone left of the living?"

  Old Ebbits shook his head, saying: "Nay, there has been no greatsickness. The village has gone away to hunt meat. We be too old, ourlegs are not strong, nor can our backs carry the burdens of camp andtrail. Wherefore we remain here and wonder when the young men willreturn with meat."

  "What if the young men do return with meat?" Zilla demanded harshly.

  "They may return with much meat," he quavered hopefully.

  "Even so, with much meat," she continued, more harshly than before. "Butof what worth to you and me? A few bones to gnaw in our toothless oldage. But the back-fat, the kidneys, and the tongues--these shall go intoother mouths than thine and mine, old man."

  Ebbits nodded his head and wept silently.

  "There be no one to hunt meat for us," she cried, turning fiercely uponme.

  There was accusation in her manner, and I shrugged my shoulders in tokenthat I was not guilty of the unknown crime imputed to me.

  "Know, O White Man, that it is because of thy kind, because of all whitemen, that my man and I have no meat in our old age and sit withouttobacco in the cold."

  "Nay," Ebbits said gravely, with a stricter sense of justice. "Wrong hasbeen done us, it be true; but the white men did not mean the wrong."

  "Where be Moklan?" she demanded. "Where be thy strong son, Moklan, andthe fish he was ever willing to bring that you might eat?"

  The old man shook his head.

  "And where be Bidarshik, thy strong son? Ever was he a mighty hunter,and ever did he bring thee the good back-fat and the sweet dried tonguesof the moose and the caribou. I see no back-fat and no sweet driedtongues. Your stomach is full with emptiness through the days, and it isfor a man of a very miserable and lying people to give you to eat."

  "Nay," old Ebbits interposed in kindliness, "the white man's is not alying people. The white man speaks true. Always does the white manspeak true." He paused, casting about him for words wherewith to temperthe severity of what he was about to say. "But the white man speaks truein different ways. To-day he speaks true one way, to-morrow he speakstrue another way, and there is no understanding him nor his way."

  "To-day speak true one way, to-morrow speak true another way, which is tolie," was Zilla's dictum.

  "There is no understanding the white man," Ebbits went on doggedly.

  The meat, and the tea, and the tobacco seemed to have brought him back tolife, and he gripped tighter hold of the idea behind his age-blearedeyes. He straightened up somewhat. His voice lost its querulous andwhimpering note, and became strong and positive. He turned upon me withdignity, and addressed me as equal addresses equal.

  "The white man's eyes are not shut," he began. "The white man sees allthings, and thinks greatly, and is very wise. But the white man of oneday is not the white man of next day, and there is no understanding him.He does not do things always in the same way. And what way his next wayis to be, one cannot know. Always does the Indian do the one thing inthe one way. Always does the moose come down from the high mountainswhen the winter is here. Always does the salmon come in the spring whenthe ice has gone out of the river. Always does everything do all thingsin the same way, and the Indian knows and understands. But the white mandoes not do all things in the same way, and the Indian does not know norunderstand.

  "Tobacco be very good. It be food to the hungry man. It makes thestrong man stronger, and the angry man to forget that he is angry. Alsois tobacco of value. It is of very great value. The Indian gives onelarge salmon for one leaf of tobacco, and he chews the tobacco for a longtime. It is the juice of the tobacco that is good. When it runs downhis throat it makes him feel good inside. But the white man! When hismouth is full with the juice, what does he do? That juice, that juice ofgreat value, he spits it out in the snow and it is lost. Does the whiteman like tobacco? I do not know. But if he likes tobacco, why does hespit out its value and lose it in the snow? It is a great foolishnessand without understanding."

  He ceased, puffed at the pipe, found that it was out, and passed it overto Zilla, who took the sneer at the white man off her lips in order topucker them about the pipe-stem. Ebbits seemed sinking back into hissenility with the tale untold, and I demanded:

  "What of thy sons, Moklan and Bidarshik? And why is it that you and yourold woman are without meat at the end of your years?"

  He roused himself as from sleep, and straightened up with an effort.

  "It is not good to steal," he said. "When the dog takes your meat youbeat the dog with a club. Such is the law. It is the law the man gaveto the dog, and the dog must live to the law, else will it suffer thepain of the club. When man takes your meat, or your canoe, or your wife,you kill that man. That is the law, and it is a good law. It is notgood to steal, wherefore it is the law that the man who steals must die.Whoso breaks the law must suffer hurt. It is a great hurt to die."

  "But if you kill the man, why do you not kill the dog?" I asked.
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  Old Ebbits looked at me in childlike wonder, while Zilla sneered openlyat the absurdity of my question.

  "It is the way of the white man," Ebbits mumbled with an air ofresignation.

  "It is the foolishness of the white man," snapped Zilla.

  "Then let old Ebbits teach the white man wisdom," I said softly.

  "The dog is not killed, because it must pull the sled of the man. No manpulls another man's sled, wherefore the man is killed."

  "Oh," I murmured.

  "That is the law," old Ebbits went on. "Now listen, O White Man, and Iwill tell you of a great foolishness. There is an Indian. His name isMobits. From white man he steals two pounds of flour. What does thewhite man do? Does he beat Mobits? No. Does he kill Mobits? No. Whatdoes he do to Mobits? I will tell you, O White Man. He has a house. Heputs Mobits in that house. The roof is good. The walls are thick. Hemakes a fire that Mobits may be warm. He gives Mobits plenty grub toeat. It is good grub. Never in his all days does Mobits eat so goodgrub. There is bacon, and bread, and beans without end. Mobits havevery good time.

  "There is a big lock on door so that Mobits does not run away. This alsois a great foolishness. Mobits will not run away. All the time is thereplenty grub in that place, and warm blankets, and a big fire. Veryfoolish to run away. Mobits is not foolish. Three months Mobits stop inthat place. He steal two pounds of flour. For that, white man takeplenty good care of him. Mobits eat many pounds of flour, many pounds ofsugar, of bacon, of beans without end. Also, Mobits drink much tea.After three months white man open door and tell Mobits he must go. Mobitsdoes not want to go. He is like dog that is fed long time in one place.He want to stay in that place, and the white man must drive Mobits away.So Mobits come back to this village, and he is very fat. That is thewhite man's way, and there is no understanding it. It is a foolishness,a great foolishness."

  "But thy sons?" I insisted. "Thy very strong sons and thine old-agehunger?"

  "There was Moklan," Ebbits began.

  "A strong man," interrupted the mother. "He could dip paddle all of aday and night and never stop for the need of rest. He was wise in theway of the salmon and in the way of the water. He was very wise."

  "There was Moklan," Ebbits repeated, ignoring the interruption. "In thespring, he went down the Yukon with the young men to trade at CambellFort. There is a post there, filled with the goods of the white man, anda trader whose name is Jones. Likewise is there a white man's medicineman, what you call missionary. Also is there bad water at Cambell Fort,where the Yukon goes slim like a maiden, and the water is fast, and thecurrents rush this way and that and come together, and there are whirlsand sucks, and always are the currents changing and the face of the waterchanging, so at any two times it is never the same. Moklan is my son,wherefore he is brave man--"

  "Was not my father brave man?" Zilla demanded.

  "Thy father was brave man," Ebbits acknowledged, with the air of one whowill keep peace in the house at any cost. "Moklan is thy son and mine,wherefore he is brave. Mayhap, because of thy very brave father, Moklanis too brave. It is like when too much water is put in the pot it spillsover. So too much bravery is put into Moklan, and the bravery spillsover.

  "The young men are much afraid of the bad water at Cambell Fort. ButMoklan is not afraid. He laughs strong, Ho! ho! and he goes forth intothe bad water. But where the currents come together the canoe is turnedover. A whirl takes Moklan by the legs, and he goes around and around,and down and down, and is seen no more."

  "Ai! ai!" wailed Zilla. "Crafty and wise was he, and my first-born!"

  "I am the father of Moklan," Ebbits said, having patiently given thewoman space for her noise. "I get into canoe and journey down to CambellFort to collect the debt!"

  "Debt!" interrupted. "What debt?"

  "The debt of Jones, who is chief trader," came the answer. "Such is thelaw of travel in a strange country."

  I shook my head in token of my ignorance, and Ebbits looked compassion atme, while Zilla snorted her customary contempt.

  "Look you, O White Man," he said. "In thy camp is a dog that bites. Whenthe dog bites a man, you give that man a present because you are sorryand because it is thy dog. You make payment. Is it not so? Also, ifyou have in thy country bad hunting, or bad water, you must make payment.It is just. It is the law. Did not my father's brother go over into theTanana Country and get killed by a bear? And did not the Tanana tribepay my father many blankets and fine furs? It was just. It was badhunting, and the Tanana people made payment for the bad hunting.

  "So I, Ebbits, journeyed down to Cambell Fort to collect the debt. Jones,who is chief trader, looked at me, and he laughed. He made greatlaughter, and would not give payment. I went to the medicine-man, whatyou call missionary, and had large talk about the bad water and thepayment that should be mine. And the missionary made talk about otherthings. He talk about where Moklan has gone, now he is dead. There belarge fires in that place, and if missionary make true talk, I know thatMoklan will be cold no more. Also the missionary talk about where Ishall go when I am dead. And he say bad things. He say that I am blind.Which is a lie. He say that I am in great darkness. Which is a lie. AndI say that the day come and the night come for everybody just the same,and that in my village it is no more dark than at Cambell Fort. Also, Isay that darkness and light and where we go when we die be differentthings from the matter of payment of just debt for bad water. Then themissionary make large anger, and call me bad names of darkness, and tellme to go away. And so I come back from Cambell Fort, and no payment hasbeen made, and Moklan is dead, and in my old age I am without fish andmeat."

  "Because of the white man," said Zilla.

  "Because of the white man," Ebbits concurred. "And other things becauseof the white man. There was Bidarshik. One way did the white man dealwith him; and yet another way for the same thing did the white man dealwith Yamikan. And first must I tell you of Yamikan, who was a young manof this village and who chanced to kill a white man. It is not good tokill a man of another people. Always is there great trouble. It was notthe fault of Yamikan that he killed the white man. Yamikan spoke alwayssoft words and ran away from wrath as a dog from a stick. But this whiteman drank much whiskey, and in the night-time came to Yamikan's house andmade much fight. Yamikan cannot run away, and the white man tries tokill him. Yamikan does not like to die, so he kills the white man.

  "Then is all the village in great trouble. We are much afraid that wemust make large payment to the white man's people, and we hide ourblankets, and our furs, and all our wealth, so that it will seem that weare poor people and can make only small payment. After long time whitemen come. They are soldier white men, and they take Yamikan away withthem. His mother make great noise and throw ashes in her hair, for sheknows Yamikan is dead. And all the village knows that Yamikan is dead,and is glad that no payment is asked.

  "That is in the spring when the ice has gone out of the river. One yeargo by, two years go by. It is spring-time again, and the ice has goneout of the river. And then Yamikan, who is dead, comes back to us, andhe is not dead, but very fat, and we know that he has slept warm and hadplenty grub to eat. He has much fine clothes and is all the same whiteman, and he has gathered large wisdom so that he is very quick head manin the village.

  "And he has strange things to tell of the way of the white man, for hehas seen much of the white man and done a great travel into the whiteman's country. First place, soldier white men take him down the riverlong way. All the way do they take him down the river to the end, whereit runs into a lake which is larger than all the land and large as thesky. I do not know the Yukon is so big river, but Yamikan has seen withhis own eyes. I do not think there is a lake larger than all the landand large as the sky, but Yamikan has seen. Also, he has told me thatthe waters of this lake be salt, which is a strange thing and beyondunderstanding.

  "But the White Man knows all these marvels for himself, s
o I shall notweary him with the telling of them. Only will I tell him what happenedto Yamikan. The white man give Yamikan much fine grub. All the timedoes Yamikan eat, and all the time is there plenty more grub. The whiteman lives under the sun, so said Yamikan, where there be much warmth, andanimals have only hair and no fur, and the green things grow large andstrong and become flour, and beans, and potatoes. And under the sunthere is never famine. Always is there plenty grub. I do not know.Yamikan has said.

  "And here is a strange thing that befell Yamikan. Never did the whiteman hurt him. Only did they give him warm bed at night and plenty finegrub. They take him across the salt lake which is big as the sky. He ison white man's fire-boat, what you call steamboat, only he is on boatmaybe twenty times bigger than steamboat on Yukon. Also, it is made ofiron, this boat, and yet does it not sink. This I do not understand, butYamikan has said, 'I have journeyed far on the iron boat; behold! I amstill alive.' It is a white man's soldier-boat with many soldier menupon it.

  "After many sleeps of travel, a long, long time, Yamikan comes to a landwhere there is no snow. I cannot believe this. It is not in the natureof things that when winter comes there shall be no snow. But Yamikan hasseen. Also have I asked the white men, and they have said yes, there isno snow in that country. But I cannot believe, and now I ask you if snownever come in that country. Also, I would hear the name of that country.I have heard the name before, but I would hear it again, if it be thesame--thus will I know if I have heard lies or true talk."

  Old Ebbits regarded me with a wistful face. He would have the truth atany cost, though it was his desire to retain his faith in the marvel hehad never seen.

  "Yes," I answered, "it is true talk that you have heard. There is nosnow in that country, and its name is California."

  "Cal-ee-forn-ee-yeh," he mumbled twice and thrice, listening intently tothe sound of the syllables as they fell from his lips. He nodded hishead in confirmation. "Yes, it is the same country of which Yamikan madetalk."

  I recognized the adventure of Yamikan as one likely to occur in the earlydays when Alaska first passed into the possession of the United States.Such a murder case, occurring before the instalment of territorial lawand officials, might well have been taken down to the United States fortrial before a Federal court.

  "When Yamikan is in this country where there is no snow," old Ebbitscontinued, "he is taken to large house where many men make much talk.Long time men talk. Also many questions do they ask Yamikan. By and bythey tell Yamikan he have no more trouble. Yamikan does not understand,for never has he had any trouble. All the time have they given him warmplace to sleep and plenty grub.

  "But after that they give him much better grub, and they give him money,and they take him many places in white man's country, and he see manystrange things which are beyond the understanding of Ebbits, who is anold man and has not journeyed far. After two years, Yamikan comes backto this village, and he is head man, and very wise until he dies.

  "But before he dies, many times does he sit by my fire and make talk ofthe strange things he has seen. And Bidarshik, who is my son, sits bythe fire and listens; and his eyes are very wide and large because of thethings he hears. One night, after Yamikan has gone home, Bidarshikstands up, so, very tall, and he strikes his chest with his fist, andsays, 'When I am a man, I shall journey in far places, even to the landwhere there is no snow, and see things for myself.'"

  "Always did Bidarshik journey in far places," Zilla interrupted proudly.

  "It be true," Ebbits assented gravely. "And always did he return to sitby the fire and hunger for yet other and unknown far places."

  "And always did he remember the salt lake as big as the sky and thecountry under the sun where there is no snow," quoth Zilla.

  "And always did he say, 'When I have the full strength of a man, I willgo and see for myself if the talk of Yamikan be true talk,'" said Ebbits.

  "But there was no way to go to the white man's country," said Zilla.

  "Did he not go down to the salt lake that is big as the sky?" Ebbitsdemanded.

  "And there was no way for him across the salt lake," said Zilla.

  "Save in the white man's fire-boat which is of iron and is bigger thantwenty steamboats on the Yukon," said Ebbits. He scowled at Zilla, whosewithered lips were again writhing into speech, and compelled her tosilence. "But the white man would not let him cross the salt lake in thefire-boat, and he returned to sit by the fire and hunger for the countryunder the sun where there is no snow.'"

  "Yet on the salt lake had he seen the fire-boat of iron that did notsink," cried out Zilla the irrepressible.

  "Ay," said Ebbits, "and he saw that Yamikan had made true talk of thethings he had seen. But there was no way for Bidarshik to journey to thewhite man's land under the sun, and he grew sick and weary like an oldman and moved not away from the fire. No longer did he go forth to killmeat--"

  "And no longer did he eat the meat placed before him," Zilla broke in."He would shake his head and say, 'Only do I care to eat the grub of thewhite man and grow fat after the manner of Yamikan.'"

  "And he did not eat the meat," Ebbits went on. "And the sickness ofBidarshik grew into a great sickness until I thought he would die. Itwas not a sickness of the body, but of the head. It was a sickness ofdesire. I, Ebbits, who am his father, make a great think. I have nomore sons and I do not want Bidarshik to die. It is a head-sickness, andthere is but one way to make it well. Bidarshik must journey across thelake as large as the sky to the land where there is no snow, else will hedie. I make a very great think, and then I see the way for Bidarshik togo.

  "So, one night when he sits by the fire, very sick, his head hangingdown, I say, 'My son, I have learned the way for you to go to the whiteman's land.' He looks at me, and his face is glad. 'Go,' I say, 'evenas Yamikan went.' But Bidarshik is sick and does not understand. 'Goforth,' I say, 'and find a white man, and, even as Yamikan, do you killthat white man. Then will the soldier white men come and get you, andeven as they took Yamikan will they take you across the salt lake to thewhite man's land. And then, even as Yamikan, will you return very fat,your eyes full of the things you have seen, your head filled withwisdom.'

  "And Bidarshik stands up very quick, and his hand is reaching out for hisgun. 'Where do you go?' I ask. 'To kill the white man,' he says. And Isee that my words have been good in the ears of Bidarshik and that hewill grow well again. Also do I know that my words have been wise.

  "There is a white man come to this village. He does not seek after goldin the ground, nor after furs in the forest. All the time does he seekafter bugs and flies. He does not eat the bugs and flies, then why doeshe seek after them? I do not know. Only do I know that he is a funnywhite man. Also does he seek after the eggs of birds. He does not eatthe eggs. All that is inside he takes out, and only does he keep theshell. Eggshell is not good to eat. Nor does he eat the eggshells, butputs them away in soft boxes where they will not break. He catch manysmall birds. But he does not eat the birds. He takes only the skins andputs them away in boxes. Also does he like bones. Bones are not good toeat. And this strange white man likes best the bones of long time agowhich he digs out of the ground.

  "But he is not a fierce white man, and I know he will die very easy; so Isay to Bidarshik, 'My son, there is the white man for you to kill.' AndBidarshik says that my words be wise. So he goes to a place he knowswhere are many bones in the ground. He digs up very many of these bonesand brings them to the strange white man's camp. The white man is madevery glad. His face shines like the sun, and he smiles with muchgladness as he looks at the bones. He bends his head over, so, to lookwell at the bones, and then Bidarshik strikes him hard on the head, withaxe, once, so, and the strange white man kicks and is dead.

  "'Now,' I say to Bidarshik, 'will the white soldier men come and take youaway to the land under the sun, where you will eat much and grow fat.'Bidarshik is happy. Already has his sickness gone from him, and
he sitsby the fire and waits for the coming of the white soldier men.

  "How was I to know the way of the white man is never twice the same?" theold man demanded, whirling upon me fiercely. "How was I to know thatwhat the white man does yesterday he will not do to-day, and that what hedoes to-day he will not do to-morrow?" Ebbits shook his head sadly."There is no understanding the white man. Yesterday he takes Yamikan tothe land under the sun and makes him fat with much grub. To-day he takesBidarshik and--what does he do with Bidarshik? Let me tell you what hedoes with Bidarshik.

  "I, Ebbits, his father, will tell you. He takes Bidarshik to CambellFort, and he ties a rope around his neck, so, and, when his feet are nomore on the ground, he dies."

  "Ai! ai!" wailed Zilla. "And never does he cross the lake large as thesky, nor see the land under the sun where there is no snow."

  "Wherefore," old Ebbits said with grave dignity, "there be no one to huntmeat for me in my old age, and I sit hungry by my fire and tell my storyto the White Man who has given me grub, and strong tea, and tobacco formy pipe."

  "Because of the lying and very miserable white people," Zilla proclaimedshrilly.

  "Nay," answered the old man with gentle positiveness. "Because of theway of the white man, which is without understanding and never twice thesame."