Uttermost Part of the Earth by E. Lucas Bridges, r. Apr. 2014

p. 296 A glance at the comparatively recent history of witchcraft in England, Europe, and America should persuade one not to judge the On a too harshly. They were in the act of taking, in one generation or less, the stride from prehistoric man to a civilization that has taken us thousands of years to accomplish, if we can be said to have accomplished it yet.

p. 336 Across leagues of wooded hills up the forty-mile length of Lake Kami, Talimeoat and I gazed long and silently towards a glorious sunset. I knew that he was searching the distance for any sign of smoke from the camp-fires of friends or foes. After a while his vigilance relaxed and, lying near me, he seemed to become oblivious to my presence. Feeling the chill of evening, I was on the point of suggesting a move, when he heaved a deep sigh and said to himself, as softly as an On a could say anything:

"Yak haruin. ("My country.")

That sigh followed by those gentle words, so unusual for one of his kind - was it caused by a vision of the not far distant future, when the Indian hunter would roam his quiet woods no more; when the light wraith from his camp fire would five place to the smoke from saw-mills; when throbbing engines and hooting sirens would shatter for ever the age-old silence?

p. 343 I vividly recall a dance to which I was invited by some friends. From among the onlookers, I watched the couples waltzing. I had never before seen men and women in evening dress. This was supposed to be a children's ball, yet a great many of those children were quite grown up. The girls, with their radiant faces and their brightly colored, not too abundant clothing, looked magically beautiful to me. With the music and the lights, they dazzled me - and made me sad. I realized, for the first time, how much grace and gaiety I had missed; pleasures of early manhood that would never come to me again. I saw then that, right through life, I should be unlike other men; unable to throw myself whole-heartedly into such a joyous party as I was then watching. Yet, as my thoughts turned from civilization to the snowy forests and windswept heights of my native land, I echoed the words of Adam Lindsay Gordon's dying jockey: "I'd live the same life over if I had to live it again."

p. 513 When I was demobilized in January, 1919, I took a short lease of a house four miles from Despard's home; and happy indeed I was with my precious little wife and [our daughter] Stephanie. We had three acres of land and a car. But life was too easy. That thrice-accursed - or thrice-blessed - wanderlust was on me and I could not rest in such peaceful surroundings. The only work I felt fitted for was breaking new trails; reclaiming unused land; and the thought of the thousands of leagues in distant parts of the world, unpeopled and producing nothing, continually troubled me.