For we're men, red-blooded men, who break the trail.
There's a white bear at the headland; there's a walrus on the floe;
And the seals lie shining sleek beneath the sun.
There's a monster blubber whale—God! you see him slosh and blow!—
And there's hunger at the trigger of your gun.
And the death-bolt, through the silence of the still, ghost-sheeted air,
Leaps forth in sudden burst of lurid flame.
Ho! there's meat for them that take it—for dog and you a share.
Ye are men, red-blooded men, who play the game.
And it's, Lash your team of huskies!