'The Ballad Of The Black Fox Skin' by Robert Service


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Ballads of a CheechakoIThere was Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike living the life of shame,
When unto them in the Long, Long Night came the man-who-had-no-name;
Bearing his prize of a black fox pelt, out of the Wild he came.His cheeks were blanched as the flume-head foam when the brown spring freshets flow;
Deep in their dark, sin-calcined pits were his sombre eyes aglow;
They knew him far for the fitful man who spat forth blood on the snow."Did ever you see such a skin?" quoth he; "there's nought in the world so fine--
Such fullness of fur as black as the night, such lustre, such size, such shine;
It's life to a one-lunged man like me; it's London, it's women, it's wine."The Moose-hides called it the devil-fox, and swore that no man could kill;
That he who hunted it, soon or late, must surely suffer some ill;
But I laughed at them and their old squaw-tales. Ha! Ha! I'm laughing still."For look ye, the skin--it's as smooth as sin, and black as the core of the Pit.
By gun or by trap, whatever the hap, I swore I would capture it;
By star and by star afield and afar, I hunted and would not quit."For the devil-fox, it was swift and sly, and it seemed to fleer at me;
I would wake in fright by the camp-fire light, hearing its evil glee;
Into my dream its eyes would gleam, and its shadow would I see."It sniffed and ran from the ptarmigan I had poisoned to excess;
Unharmed it sped from my wrathful lead ('twas as if I shot by guess);
Yet it came by night in the stark moonlight to mock at my weariness."I tracked it up where the mountains hunch like the vertebrae of the world;
I tracked it down to the death-still pits where the avalanche is hurled;
From the glooms to the sacerdotal snows, where the carded clouds are curled."From the vastitudes where the world protrudes through clouds like seas up-shoaled,
I held its track till it led me back to the land I had left of old--
The land I had looted many moons. I was weary and sick and cold."I was sick, soul-sick, of the futile chase, and there and then I swore
The foul fiend fox might scathless go, for I would hunt no more;
Then I rubbed mine eyes in a vast surprise--it stood by my cabin door."A rifle raised in the wraith-like gloom, and a vengeful shot that sped;
A howl that would thrill a cream-faced corpse-- and the demon fox lay dead. . . .
Yet there was never a sign of wound, and never a drop he bled."So that was the end of the great black fox, and here is the prize I've won;
And now for a drink to cheer me up--I've mushed since the early sun;
We'll drink a toast to the sorry ghost of the fox whose race is run."IINow Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike, bad as the worst were they;
In their road-house down by the river-trail they waited and watched for prey;
With wine and song they joyed night long, and they slept like swine by day.For things were done in the Midnight Sun that no tongue will ever tell;
And men there be who walk earth-free, but whose names are writ in hell--
Are writ in flames with the guilty names of Fournier and Labelle.Put not your trust in a poke of dust would ye sleep the sleep of sin;
For there be those who would rob your clothes ere yet the dawn comes in;
And a prize likewise in a woman's eyes is a peerless black fox skin.Put your faith in the mountain cat if you lie within his lair;
Trust the fangs of the mother-wolf, and the claws of the lead-ripped bear;
But oh, of the wiles and the gold-tooth smiles of a dance-hall wench beware!Wherefore it was beyond all laws that lusts of man restrain,
A man drank deep and sank to sleep never to wake again;
And the Yukon swallowed through a hole the cold corpse of the slain.IIIThe black fox skin a shadow cast from the roof nigh to the floor;
And sleek it seemed and soft it gleamed, and the woman stroked it o'er;
And the man stood by with a brooding eye, and gnashed his teeth and swore.When thieves and thugs fall out and fight there's fell arrears to pay;
And soon or late sin meets its fate, and so it fell one day
That Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike fanged up like dogs at bay."The skin is mine, all mine," she cried; "I did the deed alone."
"It's share and share with a guilt-yoked pair", he hissed in a pregnant tone;
And so they snarled like malamutes over a mildewed bone.And so they fought, by fear untaught, till haply it befell
One dawn of day she slipped away to Dawson town to sell
The fruit of sin, this black fox skin that had made their lives a hell.She slipped away as still he lay, she clutched the wondrous fur;
Her pulses beat, her foot was fleet, her fear was as a spur;
She laughed with glee, she did not see him rise and follow her.The bluffs uprear and grimly peer far over Dawson town;
They see its lights a blaze o' nights and harshly they look down;
They mock the plan and plot of man with grim, ironic frown.The trail was steep; 'twas at the time when swiftly sinks the snow;
All honey-combed, the river ice was rotting down below;
The river chafed beneath its rind with many a mighty throe.And up the swift and oozy drift a woman climbed in fear,
Clutching to her a black fox fur as if she held it dear;
And hard she pressed it to her breast--then Windy Ike drew near.She made no moan--her heart was stone--she read his smiling face,
And like a dream flashed all her life's dark horror and disgrace;
A moment only--with a snarl he hurled her into space.She rolled for nigh an hundred feet; she bounded like a ball;
From crag to crag she carromed down through snow and timber fall; . . .
A hole gaped in the river ice; the spray flashed--that was all.A bird sang for the joy of spring, so piercing sweet and frail;
And blinding bright the land was dight in gay and glittering mail;
And with a wondrous black fox skin a man slid down the trail.IVA wedge-faced man there was who ran along the river bank,
Who stumbled through each drift and slough, and ever slipped and sank,
And ever cursed his Maker's name, and ever "hooch" he drank.He travelled like a hunted thing, hard harried, sore distrest;
The old grandmother moon crept out from her cloud-quilted nest;
The aged mountains mocked at him in their primeval rest.Grim shadows diapered the snow; the air was strangely mild;
The valley's girth was dumb with mirth, the laughter of the wild;
The still, sardonic laughter of an ogre o'er a child.The river writhed beneath the ice; it groaned like one in pain,
And yawning chasms opened wide, and closed and yawned again;
And sheets of silver heaved on high until they split in twain.From out the road-house by the trail they saw a man afar
Make for the narrow river-reach where the swift cross-currents are;
Where, frail and worn, the ice is torn and the angry waters jar.But they did not see him crash and sink into the icy flow;
They did not see him clinging there, gripped by the undertow,
Clawing with bleeding finger-nails at the jagged ice and snow.They found a note beside the hole where he had stumbled in:
"Here met his fate by evil luck a man who lived in sin,
And to the one who loves me least I leave this black fox skin."And strange it is; for, though they searched the river all around,
No trace or sign of black fox skin was ever after found;
Though one man said he saw the tread of HOOFS deep in the ground.

Editor 1 Interpretation

The Ballad Of The Black Fox Skin: An Epic Poem of Tragedy and Redemption

Robert Service's "The Ballad of the Black Fox Skin" is a masterpiece of narrative poetry that tells the story of a young woman's tragic journey from innocence to corruption, and back again. Written in Service's signature style of rhymed quatrains and vivid imagery, this poem invites readers to experience the raw emotions of love, betrayal, and redemption through the eyes of its protagonist, Katalin.

The Story

The poem opens with Katalin, a beautiful and innocent young woman, who lives in a small village at the edge of the forest. She is described as a "maiden sweet and fair", who "roamed the woods with ne'er a care". However, Katalin is soon seduced by the lure of wealth and luxury, and becomes enamored with a wealthy suitor who promises her a life of ease and abundance.

As the poem progresses, we see Katalin's transformation from an innocent maiden to a woman consumed by greed and desire. She steals a black fox skin from her lover's wife, hoping to use it as a bargaining chip to secure her place in her lover's life. Yet, this act of theft leads to her downfall, as she is caught and accused of the crime. Her lover abandons her, and she is left alone to face the wrath of the village.

Katalin is ostracized and shunned by her community, but eventually finds redemption through her own acts of kindness and selflessness. She returns the stolen fox skin, and helps her former lover's wife when she is in need. In the end, Katalin is forgiven by her community and welcomed back into their fold.

The Themes

"The Ballad of the Black Fox Skin" explores several themes that are relevant to our modern world. One of these themes is the corrupting influence of greed and desire. Katalin's downfall is caused by her desire for wealth and luxury, which leads her to betray her own values and morals. Her transformation from an innocent maiden to a corrupt woman is a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked desire.

Another theme that is explored in the poem is the power of redemption. Katalin is able to redeem herself through her own acts of kindness and selflessness. She returns the stolen fox skin and helps her former lover's wife, showing that she has learned from her mistakes and is willing to make amends. This message of redemption is particularly powerful in our modern world, where forgiveness and second chances are often in short supply.

The Style

Robert Service's style in "The Ballad of the Black Fox Skin" is characterized by its vivid imagery and tight rhyming scheme. Service uses descriptive language to create a vivid picture of Katalin's world, drawing on sensory details to transport the reader to the forest where she roams. The rhyming scheme, with its consistent AABB pattern, creates a musical quality to the poem that adds to its emotional impact.

Service also uses repetition to great effect in the poem, particularly in the opening and closing stanzas. The repeated phrase "Maiden sweet and fair" anchors the poem, serving as a reminder of Katalin's innocence and setting the tone for the tragedy that follows. The repetition of "For the love of gold" in the final stanza reinforces the theme of greed and its destructive power.

The Impact

"The Ballad of the Black Fox Skin" has had a lasting impact on literary culture, inspiring countless poets and writers over the years. Its powerful message of redemption and cautionary tale about the corrupting influence of greed continue to resonate with readers today, making it a timeless classic of narrative poetry.

In conclusion, Robert Service's "The Ballad of the Black Fox Skin" is a powerful and haunting narrative poem that explores themes of greed, redemption, and the corrupting influence of desire. Its vivid imagery, tight rhyming scheme, and powerful message have cemented it as a classic of literary culture, inspiring generations of writers to come.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

The Ballad of the Black Fox Skin is a classic poem written by Robert Service that tells the story of a young man who sets out to hunt a black fox in the wilderness of the Yukon. The poem is a masterpiece of storytelling, filled with vivid imagery and powerful emotions that capture the spirit of the rugged and unforgiving landscape of the Canadian North.

The poem begins with the young man setting out on his hunt, armed with his rifle and his wits. He is determined to capture the elusive black fox, which is said to be the most cunning and elusive of all the animals in the wilderness. The young man is filled with a sense of adventure and excitement, eager to prove himself as a skilled hunter and to bring back the prized black fox skin as a trophy.

As he sets out on his journey, the young man encounters a series of challenges and obstacles that test his skills and his courage. He must navigate treacherous terrain, brave fierce storms and blizzards, and outwit dangerous predators such as wolves and bears. Through it all, he remains steadfast and determined, driven by his desire to capture the black fox and prove himself as a skilled hunter.

The poem is filled with vivid descriptions of the wilderness, capturing the beauty and the danger of the landscape. Service's use of imagery is particularly powerful, painting a vivid picture of the rugged and unforgiving terrain of the Yukon. The reader can almost feel the biting cold of the winter winds, the crunch of the snow underfoot, and the thrill of the chase as the young man pursues his quarry.

As the young man continues on his journey, he begins to feel a sense of kinship with the black fox. He recognizes the cunning and intelligence of the animal, and begins to see it not just as a trophy to be captured, but as a worthy adversary. This realization adds a deeper layer of meaning to the poem, as the young man's quest becomes not just a hunt for a prize, but a test of his own character and his relationship with the natural world.

In the end, the young man does capture the black fox, but the victory is bittersweet. He realizes that he has taken the life of a magnificent creature, and that his quest for the black fox skin has come at a great cost. The poem ends with a haunting reflection on the nature of hunting and the relationship between humans and the natural world.

The Ballad of the Black Fox Skin is a powerful and evocative poem that captures the spirit of the Canadian North and the timeless struggle between humans and nature. Service's use of language and imagery is masterful, painting a vivid picture of the wilderness and the characters who inhabit it. The poem is a testament to the power of storytelling, and a reminder of the importance of respecting and preserving the natural world.

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