"London, Jack - TO BUILD A FIRE" - читать интересную книгу автора (London Jack)

water came from the right. He reflected awhile, rubbing his nose
and cheeks, then skirted to the left, stepping gingerly and
testing the footing for each step. Once clear of the danger, he
took a fresh chew of tobacco and swung along at his four-mile
gait. Continuing with Jack London's "To Build A Fire". the danger
of falling through the ice has become a factor.

In the course of the next two hours he came upon several
similar traps. Usually the snow above the hidden pools had a
sunken, candied appearance that advertised the danger. Once
again, however, he had a close call; and once, suspecting danger,
he compelled the dog to go on in front. The dog did not want to
go. It hung back until the man shoved it forward, and then it
went quickly across the white, unbroken surface. Suddenly it
broke through, floundered to one side, and got away to firmer
footing. It had wet its forefeet and legs, and almost immediately
the water that clung to it turned to ice. It made quick efforts
to lick the ice off its legs, then dropped down in the snow and
began to bite out the ice that had formed between the toes. This
was a matter of instinct. To permit the ice to remain would mean
sore feet. It did not know this. It merely obeyed the mysterious
prompting that arose from the deep crypts of its being. But the
man knew, having achieved a judgement on the subject, and he
removed the mitten from his right hand and helped tear out the
ice particles. He did not expose his fingers more than a minute,
and was astonished at the swift numbness that smote them. It
certainly was cold. He pulled on the mitten hastily, and beat the
hand savagely across his chest.

At twelve o'clock the day was at its brightest. Yet the sun
was too far south on its winter journey to clear the horizon. The
bulge of the earth intervened between it and Henderson Creek,
where the man walked under a clear sky at noon and cast no
shadow. At half-past twelve, to the minute, he arrived at the
forks of the creek. He was pleased at the speed he had made. If
he kept it up, he would certainly be with the boys by six. He
unbuttoned his jacket and shirt and drew forth his lunch. The
action consumed no more than a quarter of a minute, yet in that
brief moment the numbness laid hold of his exposed fingers. He
did not put the mitten on, but, instead, struck the fingers a
dozen sharp smashes against his leg. Then he sat down on a snow-
covered log to eat. The sting that followed upon the striking of
his fingers against his leg ceased so quickly that he was
startled. He had had no chance to take a bit of biscuit. He
struck the fingers repeatedly and returned them to the mitten,
baring the other hand for the purpose of eating. He tried to take
a mouthful, but the ice muzzle prevented. He had forgotten to
build a fire and thaw out. He chuckled at his foolishness, and as
he chuckled he noted that the stinging which had first come to
his toes when he sat down was already passing away. He wondered