And roll a rock down—for McCabe was my friend.
I’ve sung you my song and I’ve told you my story,
And all that I ask when I’m done with the show,
Is, roll a rock down when I slide into glory,
And say that I went like a ranger should go.
THE TRAIL-MAKERS
North and west along the coast among the misty islands,
Sullen in the grip of night and smiling in the day:
Nunivak and Akutan, with Nome against the highlands,
On we drove with plated prow agleam with frozen spray.