To Build A Fire

Announcer: Now, the weekly SpecialEnglish program, AMERICAN STORIES.

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Our story today is called "ToBuild a Fire."  It was written by Jack London. Here is Harry Monroewith the story.

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Storyteller: The man walked downthe trail on a cold, gray day. Pure white snow and ice covered the Earth for asfar as he could see.  This was his first winter inAlaska.  He was wearing heavy clothesand fur boots.  But he still felt cold and uncomfortable.

The man was on his way to a campnear Henderson Creek. His friends were already there. He expected to reachHenderson Creek by six o'clock that evening. It would be dark by then. Hisfriends would have a fire and hot food ready for him. 

A dog walked behind the man. It was a big gray animal, half dog and half wolf. The dog did not like theextreme cold.  It knew the weather was too cold to travel.

The man continued to walk down thetrail.  He came to a frozen stream called Indian Creek.  He began towalk on the snow-covered ice.  It was a trail that would lead him straightto Henderson Creek and his friends.

As he walked, he looked carefullyat the ice in front of him.  Once, he stopped suddenly, and then walkedaround a part of the frozen stream.  He saw that an underground springflowed under the ice at that spot.  It made the ice thin.  If hestepped there, he might break through the ice into a pool of water.  Toget his boots wet in such cold weather might kill him. His feet would turn toice quickly. He could freeze to death.

At about twelve o'clock, the mandecided to stop to eat his lunch. He took off the glove on his right hand. Heopened his jacket and shirt, and pulled out his bread and meat. This took lessthan twenty seconds. Yet, his fingers began to freeze.

He hit his hand against his legseveral times until he felt a sharp pain.  Then he quickly put his gloveon his hand. He made a fire, beginning with small pieces of wood and addinglarger ones. He sat on a snow-covered log and ate his lunch. He enjoyed thewarm fire for a few minutes. Then he stood up and started walking on the frozenstream again. 

A half hour later, it happened. Ata place where the snow seemed very solid, the ice broke. The man's feet sankinto the water. It was not deep, but his legs got wet to the knees. The man wasangry. The accident would delay his arrival at the camp. He would have to builda fire now to dry his clothes and boots.

He walked over to some smalltrees. They were covered with snow. In their branches were pieces of dry grassand wood left by flood waters earlier in the year. He put several large piecesof wood on the snow, under one of the trees. On top of the wood, he put somegrass and dry branches. He pulled off his gloves, took out his matches, andlighted the fire. He fed the young flame with more wood. As the fire grewstronger, he gave it larger pieces of wood. 

He worked slowly and carefully. Atsixty degrees below zero, a man with wet feet must not fail in his firstattempt to build a fire. While he was walking, his blood had kept all parts ofhis body warm. Now that he had stopped, cold was forcing his blood to withdrawdeeper into his body. His wet feet had frozen. He could not feel his fingers.His nose was frozen, too. The skin all over his body felt cold. 

Now, however, his fire wasbeginning to burn more strongly. He was safe. He sat under the tree and thoughtof the old men inFairbanks.The old men had told him that no man should travel alone in theYukonwhen thetemperature is sixty degrees below zero.  Yet here he was. He had had anaccident. He was alone. And he had saved himself. He had built a fire. 

Those old men were weak, hethought. A real man could travel alone. If a man stayed calm, he would be allright. The man's boots were covered with ice. The strings on his boots were ashard as steel. He would have to cut them with his knife. 

He leaned back against the tree totake out his knife. Suddenly, without warning, a heavy mass of snow droppeddown. His movement had shaken the young tree only a tiny bit. But it was enoughto cause the branches of the tree to drop their heavy load. The man wasshocked. He sat and looked at the place where the fire had been.

The old men had been right, hethought. If he had another man with him, he would not be in any danger now. Theother man could build the fire. Well, it was up to him to build the fire again.This time, he must not fail.

The man collected more wood. Hereached into his pocket for the matches. But his fingers were frozen. He couldnot hold them. He began to hit his hands with all his force against hislegs. 

After a while, feeling came backto his fingers. The man reached again into his pocket for the matches. But thetremendous cold quickly drove the life out of his fingers. All the matches fellonto the snow. He tried to pick one up, but failed.

The man pulled on his glove andagain beat his hand against his leg. Then he took the gloves off both hands andpicked up all the matches. He gathered them together. Holding them with bothhands, he scratched the matches along his leg. They immediately caught fire.

He held the blazing matches to apiece of wood. After a while, he became aware that he could smell his handsburning. Then he began to feel the pain. He opened his hands, and the blazingmatches fell on to the snow. The flame went out in a puff of gray smoke.

The man looked up. The dog wasstill watching him. The man got an idea. He would kill the dog and bury hishands inside its warm body. When the feeling came back to his fingers, he couldbuild another fire. He called to the dog. The dog heard danger in the man'svoice. It backed away.

The man called again. This timethe dog came closer. The man reached for his knife. But he had forgotten thathe could not bend his fingers. He could not kill the dog, because he could nothold his knife.

The fear of death came over theman. He jumped up and began to run. The running began to make him feel better.Maybe running would make his feet warm. If he ran far enough, he would reachhis friends at Henderson Creek. They would take care of him.

It felt strange to run and notfeel his feet when they hit the ground. He fell several times.  He decidedto rest a while. As he lay in the snow, he noticed that he was not shaking. Hecould not feel his nose or fingers or feet. Yet, he was feeling quite warm andcomfortable.  He realized he was going to die.

Well, he decided, he might as welltake it like a man.  There were worse ways to die.

The man closed his eyes andfloated into the most comfortable sleep he had ever known. 

The dog sat facing him, waiting.Finally, the dog moved closer to the man and caught the smell of death. Theanimal threw back its head. It let out a long, soft cry to the cold stars inthe black sky.

And then it tuned and ran towardHenderson Creek…where it knew there was food and a fire.

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Announcer: You have just heard theAMERICAN STORY called "To Build a Fire."  It was written by JackLondon and adapted for Special English by Dona de Sanctis. Your storyteller wasHarry Monroe.  For Special English, this is Shep O'Neal.

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