lost face
by jack london
it was the end, subienkow had travelled a long trail of bitterness and horror, honing like a dove for the capitals of europe, and here, farther away than ever, in russian america, the trail ceased , he sat in the snow, arms tied behind him, waiting the torture, he stared curiously before him at a huge cossack , prone in the snow , moaning in his pain, the men had finished handling the giant and turned him over to the women, that they exceeded the fiendishness of the men, the man\'s cries attested.^^^^^