Jack London was one of the first writers to earn a living in part from his writings in commercial fiction magazines. London became a socialist and his writings reflect this change in his political views. He is best known for his novels The Call of the Wild and White Fang. Stories in this collection include LOVE OF LIFE, A DAY'S LODGING, THE WHITE MAN'S WAY, THE STORY OF KEESH, THE UNEXPECTED, BROWN WOLF, THE SUN-DOG TRAIL, NEGORE, and THE COWARD,LOVE OFLIFE (excerpt)

"This out of all will remain - They havelived and have tossed: So much of the game will be gain, Though thegold of the dice has been lost."

THEY limped painfully down the bank, and once theforemost of the two men staggered among the rough-strewn rocks. Theywere tired and weak, and their faces had the drawn expression ofpatience which comes of hardship long endured. They were heavilyburdened with blanket packs which were strapped to their shoulders.Head- straps, passing across the forehead, helped support thesepacks. Each man carried a rifle. They walked in a stooped posture,the shoulders well forward, the head still farther forward, the eyesbent upon the ground.

"I wish we had just about two of themcartridges that's layin' in that cache of ourn," said the secondman.

His voice was utterly and drearily expressionless.He spoke without enthusiasm; and the first man, limping into themilky stream that foamed over the rocks, vouchsafed no reply.

The other man followed at his heels. They did notremove their foot-gear, though the water was icy cold - so cold thattheir ankles ached and their feet went numb. In places the waterdashed against their knees, and both men staggered for footing.

The man who followed slipped on a smooth boulder,nearly fell, but recovered himself with a violent effort, at the sametime uttering a sharp exclamation of pain. He seemed faint and dizzyand put out his free hand while he reeled, as though seeking supportagainst the air. When he had steadied himself he stepped forward, butreeled again and nearly fell. Then he stood still and looked at theother man, who had never turned his head.

The man stood still for fully a minute, as thoughdebating with himself. Then he called out:

"I say, Bill, I've sprained my ankle."

Bill staggered on through the milky water. He didnot look around. The man watched him go, and though his face wasexpressionless as ever, his eyes were like the eyes of a woundeddeer.

The other man limped up the farther bank andcontinued straight on without looking back. The man in the streamwatched him. His lips trembled a little, so that the rough thatch ofbrown hair which covered them was visibly agitated. His tongue evenstrayed out to moisten them.

"Bill!" he cried out...

About Jack London: 

Jack London (1876-1916), was an American author and a pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial magazine fiction. He was one of the first Americans to make a lucrative career exclusively from writing. London was self-educated. He taught himself in the public library, mainly just by reading books. In 1898, he began struggling seriously to break into print, a struggle memorably described in his novel, Martin Eden (1909). Jack London was fortunate in the timing of his writing...