We raised our lance when he rose to breathe, We drove it downward—so! And we played him thus, and we killed him thus Out on the edge of the floe.
Our gloves are glued with the frozen blood, Our eyes with the drifting snow; But we come back to our wives again, Back from the edge of the floe!
Au jana! Aua! Oha! Haq! And the loaded dog-teams go, And the wives can hear their men come back, Back from the edge of the floe!
RED DOG
For our white and our excellent nights—for the nights of swift running, Fair ranging, far-seeing, good hunting, sure cunning! For the smells of the dawning, untainted, ere dew has departed! For the rush through the mist, and the quarry blind-started! For the cry of our mates when the sambhur has wheeled and is standing at bay, For the risk and the riot of night! For the sleep at the lair-mouth by day, It is met, and we go to the fight. Bay! O bay!
RED DOG