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27 - Kazan by James Oliver Curwood · Kazan

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  Speaker 1: Chapter twenty seven, The Call of sun Rock. In the
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  Speaker 1: golden glow of the autumn sun, there came up the
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  Speaker 1: stream overlooked by the sun Rock. One day a man,
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  Speaker 1: a woman, and a child in a canoe. Civilization had
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  Speaker 1: done for lovely Joan what it had done for many
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  Speaker 1: another wild flower transplanted from the depths of the wilderness.
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  Speaker 1: Her cheeks were thin, her blue eyes had lost their luster.
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  Speaker 1: She coughed, and when she coughed, the man looked at
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  Speaker 1: her with love and fear in his eyes. But now
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  Speaker 1: slowly the man had begun to see the transformation, and
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  Speaker 1: on the day their canoe pointed up the stream and
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  Speaker 1: into the wonderful valley that had been their home before
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  Speaker 1: the call of the distant city came to them. He
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  Speaker 1: noted the flesh gathering once more in her cheeks, the
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  Speaker 1: fuller redness of her lips, and the gathering glow of
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  Speaker 1: happiness and content in her eyes. He laughed softly as
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  Speaker 1: he saw these things, and he blessed the forests. In
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  Speaker 1: the canoe, she had leaned back with her head almost
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  Speaker 1: against his shoulder, and he stopped paddling to draw her
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  Speaker 1: to him and run his fingers through the soft golden
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  Speaker 1: masses of her hair. You are happy again, Jane, he
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  Speaker 1: laughed joyously. The doctors were right. You are a part
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  Speaker 1: of the forests. Yes, I am happy, she whispered, And
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  Speaker 1: suddenly there came a little thrill into her voice, and
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  Speaker 1: she pointed to a white finger of sand running out
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  Speaker 1: into the stream. Do you remember years and years ago?
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  Speaker 1: It seems that Kazan left us here. She was on
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  Speaker 1: the sand over there, calling to him. Do you remember?
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  Speaker 1: There was a little tremble about her mouth, and she added,
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  Speaker 1: I wonder where they have gone. The cabin was as
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  Speaker 1: they had left it, only the crimson back niche had
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  Speaker 1: grown up about it, and shrubs and tall grass had
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  Speaker 1: sprung up near its walls. Once more, it took on life,
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  Speaker 1: and day by day the color came deeper into Janes's cheeks,
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  Speaker 1: and her voice was filled with its old, wild sweetness
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  Speaker 1: of song. Jane's husband cleared the trails over his old
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  Speaker 1: rap lines, and Joan and the little Joan who romped
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  Speaker 1: and talked now transformed the cabin into home. One night,
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  Speaker 1: the man returned to the cabin late, and when he
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  Speaker 1: came in, there was a glow of excitement in Joan's
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  Speaker 1: blue eyes and a tremble in her voice when she
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  Speaker 1: greeted him. Did you hear it? She asked, did you
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  Speaker 1: hear the call? He nodded, stroking her soft hair. I
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  Speaker 1: was a mile back in the quick swamp, he said,
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  Speaker 1: I heard it. Jane's hands clutched his arms. It wasn't Kazan,
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  Speaker 1: she said, I would recognize his voice, but it seemed
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  Speaker 1: to me it was like the other, the call that
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  Speaker 1: came that morning from the sand bar, his mate. The
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  Speaker 1: man was thinking. Jone's fingers tightened. She was breathing a
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  Speaker 1: little quickly. Will you promise me this? She asked, Will
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  Speaker 1: you promise me that you will never hunt or trap
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  Speaker 1: for wolves? I had thought of that, he replied, I
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  Speaker 1: thought of it after I heard the call. Yes, I
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  Speaker 1: will promise. Jane's arms stole up about his neck. We
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  Speaker 1: loved Kazan, she whispered, and you might kill him or her.
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  Speaker 1: Suddenly she stopped. Both listened. The door was a little ajar,
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  Speaker 1: and to them there came again the wailing mate call
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  Speaker 1: of the wolf. Joan ran to the door. Her husband followed. Together.
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  Speaker 1: They stood silent and with tense breath. Joan pointed over
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  Speaker 1: the starlit plane listen, listen, she commanded, it's her cry,
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  Speaker 1: and it came from the sun Rock. She ran out
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  Speaker 1: into the night, forgetting that the man was close behind her, now,
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  Speaker 1: forgetting that little Joan was alone in her bed. And
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  Speaker 1: to them, from miles and miles across the plain, there
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  Speaker 1: came a wailing cry in answer, a cry that seemed
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  Speaker 1: a part of the wind, and that thrilled Joan until
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  Speaker 1: her breath broke in a strange sob Farther out on
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  Speaker 1: the plain she went, and then stopped, with the golden
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  Speaker 1: glow of the autumn moon and the stars shimmering in
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  Speaker 1: her hair and eyes. It was many minutes before the
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  Speaker 1: cry came again, and then it was so near that
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  Speaker 1: Joan put her hands to her mouth, and her cry
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  Speaker 1: rang out over the plaine as in the days of old.
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  Speaker 1: Kazen Cousenkazin, at the top of the sun Rock, gray wolf,
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  Speaker 1: gaunt and thinned by starvation, heard the woman's cry, and
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  Speaker 1: the call that was in her throat died away in
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  Speaker 1: a whine. And to the north, the swiftly moving shadow
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  Speaker 1: stopped for a moment and stood like a thing of
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  Speaker 1: rock under the starlight. It was Kazan, a strange fire
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  Speaker 1: leaped through his body. Every fiber of his brute understanding
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  Speaker 1: was afire with the knowledge that here was home. It
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  Speaker 1: was here, long ago that he had lived and loved
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  Speaker 1: and fought, and all at once the dreams that had
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  Speaker 1: grown faded and indistinct in his memory came back to
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  Speaker 1: him as real, living things. For coming to him faintly
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  Speaker 1: over the plain, he heard Jane's voice in the starlight.
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  Speaker 1: Joane stood tense and white when from out of the
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  Speaker 1: pale mists of the moon glow he came to her,
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  Speaker 1: cringing on his belly, panting and wind run and with
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  Speaker 1: a strange whining note in his throat. And as Joan
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  Speaker 1: went to him, her arms reaching out her lips, sobbing
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  Speaker 1: his name over and over again, the man stood and
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  Speaker 1: looked down upon them, with the wonder of a new
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  Speaker 1: and greater understanding in his face. He had no fear
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  Speaker 1: of the wolf dog now, And as Jane's arms hugged
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  Speaker 1: Kazan's great shaggy head up to her, he heard the whining,
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  Speaker 1: gasping joy of the beast and the sobbing, whispering voice
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  Speaker 1: of the girl. And with tensely gripped hands he faced
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  Speaker 1: the sun rock, my god, he breathed, I believe it's so,
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  Speaker 1: as if in response to the thought in his mind,
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  Speaker 1: there came once more across the plain, gray Wolf's mate,
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  Speaker 1: seeking cry of grief and of loneliness. Swiftly as though
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  Speaker 1: struck by a lash. Kazan was on his feet, oblivious
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  Speaker 1: of Jane's touch, of her voice, of the presence of
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  Speaker 1: the man. In another instant, he was gone, and Joan
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  Speaker 1: flung herself against her husband's breast and almost fiercely took
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  Speaker 1: his face between her two hands. Now do you believe,
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  Speaker 1: she cried pantingly. Now do you believe in the God
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  Speaker 1: of my world, the god I have lived with, the
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  Speaker 1: God that gives souls to the wild things, the God
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  Speaker 1: that that has brought us all together once more home.
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  Speaker 1: His arms closed gently about her. I believe, my jone,
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  Speaker 1: he whispered. And you understand now what it means. Thou
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  Speaker 1: shalt not kill, except that it brings us life. Yes,
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  Speaker 1: I understand, he replied. Her warm soft hands stroked his face.
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  Speaker 1: Her blue eyes, filled with the glory of the stars,
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  Speaker 1: looked up into his Kazan and she you and I
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  Speaker 1: and the baby. Are you sorry that we came back,
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  Speaker 1: she asked, So close he drew her against his breast
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  Speaker 1: that she did not hear the words he whispered in
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  Speaker 1: the soft warmth of her hair. And after that, for
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  Speaker 1: many hours they sat in the starlight in front of
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  Speaker 1: the cabin door, but they did not hear again that
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  Speaker 1: lonely cry from the sun rock. Joan and her husband understood,
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  Speaker 1: he'll visit us again tomorrow, the man said, At last, come, Joan,
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  Speaker 1: let us go to bed together. They entered the cabin,
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  Speaker 1: and that night, side by side, Kazan and gray Wolf
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  Speaker 1: hunted again in the moonlit plain. End of chapter twenty
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  Speaker 1: seven and also end of the book Kazan by James
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  Speaker 1: Oliver Kirwood. Recording by Leonard Wilson of Springfield, Ohio,