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that night we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow, And our dogs fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe.
I'll cash in this trip, I guess And if I do, Im asking that you not refuse my last request.
So I want you to sware that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains.
now that promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there it lay: it was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the Alice may.
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