Just Meat Page #4

"Just Meat" is a collection of short stories by Jack London that explores themes of survival, human experience, and the primal instincts inherent within both man and nature. The stories reflect London's keen observations of life, often drawing on his own experiences in the Alaskan wilderness. Through vivid prose and compelling characters, the collection delves into the raw aspects of life, presenting both the struggles and triumphs of resilience and the instinctual drive for survival in the face of adversity. Each narrative encapsulates London's profound understanding of the human condition and the natural world.

								

explained. "Go on an' read."

"Was to have sailed last night at ten on the Sajoda for the South
Seas--steamship delayed by extra freight----"

"That's why we caught 'm in bed," Matt interrupted. "It was just
luck--like pickin' a fifty-to-one winner."

"Sajoda sailed at six this mornin'----"

"He didn't catch her," Matt said. "I saw his alarm clock was set at
five. That'd given 'm plenty of time ... only I come along an' put the
kibosh on his time. Go on."

"Adolph Metzner in despair--the famous Haythorne pearl
necklace--magnificently assorted pearls--valued by experts at from fifty
to seventy thousan' dollars."

Jim broke off to say solemnly, "Those oyster-eggs worth all that money!"

He licked his lips and added, "They was beauties an' no mistake."

"Big Brazilian gem," he read on. "Eighty thousan' dollars--many valuable
gems of the first water--several thousan' small diamonds well worth
forty thousan'."

"What you don't know about jools is worth knowin'," Matt smiled good
humoredly.

"Theory of the sleuths," Jim read. "Thieves must have known--cleverly
kept watch on Bujannoff's actions--must have learned his plan and
trailed him to his house with the fruits of his robbery--"

"Clever--" Matt broke out. "That's the way reputations is made ... in
the noos-papers. How'd we know he was robbin' his pardner?"

"Anyway, we've got the goods," Jim grinned. "Let's look at 'em again."

He assured himself that the door was locked and bolted, while Matt
brought out the bundle in the bandana and opened it on the table.

"Ain't they beauties, though!" Jim exclaimed at sight of the pearls; and
for a time he had eyes only for them. "Accordin' to the experts, worth
from fifty to seventy thousan' dollars."

"An' women like them things," Matt commented. "An' they'll do everything
to get 'em--sell themselves, commit murder, anything."

"Just like you an' me."

"Not on your life," Matt retorted. "I'll commit murder for 'em, but not
for their own sakes, but for the sake of what they'll get me. That's the
difference. Women want the jools for themselves, an' I want the jools
for the women an' such things they'll get me."

"Lucky that men an' women don't want the same things," Jim remarked.

"That's what makes commerce," Matt agreed; "people wantin' different
things."

In the middle of the afternoon Jim went out to buy food. While he was
gone, Matt cleared the table of the jewels, wrapping them up as before
and putting them under the pillow. Then he lighted the kerosene stove
and started to boil water for the coffee. A few minutes later, Jim
returned.

"Most surprising," he remarked. "Streets, an' stores, an' people just
like they always was. Nothin' changed. An' me walkin' along through it
all a millionnaire. Nobody looked at me an' guessed it"

Matt grunted unsympathetically. He had little comprehension of the
lighter whims and fancies of his partner's imagination.

"Did you get a porterhouse?" he demanded.

"Sure, an' an inch thick. It's a peach. Look at it."

He unwrapped the steak and held it up for the other's inspection. Then
he made the coffee and set the table, while Matt fried the steak.

"Don't put on too much of them red peppers," Jim warned. "I ain't used
to your Mexican cookin'. You always season too hot."

Matt grunted a laugh and went on with his cooking. Jim poured out the
coffee, but first, into the nicked china cup, he emptied a powder he had
carried in his vest pocket wrapped in a rice-paper. He had turned his
back for the moment on his partner, but he did not dare to glance around
at him. Matt placed a newspaper on the table, and on the newspaper set
the hot frying pan. He cut the steak in half, and served Jim and
himself.

"Eat her while she's hot," he counselled, and with knife and fork set
the example.

"She's a dandy," was Jim's judgment, after his first mouthful. "But I
tell you one thing straight. I'm never goin' to visit you on that
Arizona ranch, so you needn't ask me."

"What's the matter now?" Matt asked.

"The Mexican cookin' on your ranch'd be too much for me. If I've got
blue blazes a-comin' in the next life, I'm not goin' to torment my
insides in this one!"

He smiled, expelled his breath forcibly to cool his burning mouth, drank
some coffee, and went on eating the steak.

"What do you think about the next life anyway, Matt?" he asked a little
later, while secretly he wondered why the other had not yet touched his
coffee.

"Ain't no next life," Matt answered, pausing from the steak to take his
first sip of coffee. "Nor heaven nor hell, nor nothin'. You get all
that's comin' right here in this life."

"An' afterward?" Jim queried out of his morbid curiosity, for he knew
that he looked upon a man that was soon to die. "An' afterward?" he
repeated.

"Did you ever see a man two weeks dead?" the other asked.

Jim shook his head.

"Well, I have. He was like this beefsteak you an' me is eatin'. It was
once steer cavortin' over the landscape. But now it's just meat. That's
all, just meat. An' that's what you an' me an' all people come
to--meat."

Matt gulped down the whole cup of coffee, and refilled the cup.

"Are you scared to die?" he asked.

Jim shook his head. "What's the use? I don't die anyway. I pass on an'
live again--"

"To go stealin', an' lyin', an' snivellin' through another life, an' go
on that way forever an' ever an' ever?" Matt sneered.

"Maybe I'll improve," Jim suggested hopefully. "Maybe stealin' won't be
necessary in the life to come."

He ceased abruptly, and stared straight before him, a frightened
expression on his face.

"What's the matter!" Matt demanded.

"Nothin'. I was just wonderin'"--Jim returned to himself with an
effort--"about this dyin', that was all."

But he could not shake off the fright that had startled him. It was as
if an unseen thing of gloom had passed him by, casting upon him the
intangible shadow of its presence. He was aware of a feeling of
foreboding. Something ominous was about to happen. Calamity hovered in
the air. He gazed fixedly across the table at the other man. He could
not understand. Was it that he had blundered and poisoned himself? No,
Matt had the nicked cup, and he had certainly put the poison in the
nicked cup.

It was all his own imagination, was his next thought. It had played him
tricks before. Fool! Of course it was. Of course something was about to
happen, but it was about to happen to Matt. Had not Matt drunk the
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