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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required III. Dan found himself between the angry mammoth and the cliff. He had no choice but to retreat, though the fall his flesh would rip. Then about six feet down he saw, a tree growing out of the wall, at a slanting angle he could catch, so Trapper Dan let himself fall. He snagged the trunk and hung, his legs dangling free in space. Above the angry mammoth tried, but could not check’s it pace. An animal so very large can’t always halt in a shot spell. Momentum carried him clear off, and a hundred feet he fell. Dan scrambled back upwards, then looked down upon the stream. He wanted to skin the giant beast, but couldn’t move it without a team! And emerging on the river’s far side, one hundred long feet below, Three more mammoths did appear, and send up a mournful bellow. Dan just sighed and shook his head, deciding right then and there, that he was not going to risk anymore for a pelt of mammoth hair... Twas two weeks back without dogs, and he stopped two days to hunt. He arrived at Whitehorse exhausted, consumed by an angry funk. He walked into the small café and found Kloatsultshik eating. Dan said,”I Should’ve listened, my friend, and saved myself the beating.” That was the last he ever trapped, he and Kloatsultshik partnered up to buy the small café and a mining stake, running their businesses side-by-side. And in all the years that followed, whenever people spoke of trekking west, Dan warned them off of the small pass, of The Valley That Trumpets Death.
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