[Burning Daylight by Jack London]@TWC D-Link book
Burning Daylight

CHAPTER III
22/40

"Laugh, you mangy short-horns, laugh! But I tell you plain and simple, the best of you ain't knee-high fit to tie Daylight's moccasin strings.
"Ain't I right, Campbell?
Ain't I right, Mac?
Daylight's one of the old guard, one of the real sour-doughs.

And in them days they wa'n't ary a steamboat or ary a trading-post, and we cusses had to live offen salmon-bellies and rabbit-tracks." He gazed triumphantly around, and in the applause that followed arose cries for a speech from Daylight.

He signified his consent.

A chair was brought, and he was helped to stand upon it.

He was no more sober than the crowd above which he now towered--a wild crowd, uncouthly garmented, every foot moccasined or muc-lucked[3], with mittens dangling from necks and with furry ear-flaps raised so that they took on the seeming of the winged helmets of the Norsemen.


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