strange 
    moil
    Arctic trails
    blood cold;
    Northern Lights
    queerest
    night marge 

    Now Sam
    left home
    cold, but gold
    often say

    Christmas
    cold!
    eyes close
    fun whimper

    night packed
    dogs fed
    turns "Cap,"
    if I do

    seemed low says moan:
    cursed cold
    'taint dead 
    swear cremate
 
    pal's need
    streak dawn
    crouched raved
    nightfall corpse

    breath death
    corpse rid
    lashed "tax 
    promised cremate

    promise made
    days come, lips dumb
    long, long night
    Howled woes 

    day clay seemed
    on went, dogs spent
    trail bad
    sing

    marge 
    jammed 
    looked
    "Here,"

    planks tore lit
    coal heaped
    flames soared
    burrowed hole

    hike, sizzle
    heavens
    icy sweat rolled
    greasy smoke

    not know
    stars out
    sick dread
    cooked

    sat Sam
    smile mile
    fine here
    left Plumtree

    strange
    Arctic
    Northern
    night