章节正文
trying job for a work-hardened man," answered McLean. "You see, in
the first place, you would be afraid. In stretching our lines, we
killed six rattlesnakes almost as long as your body and as thick as
your arm. It's the price of your life to start through the
marshgrass surrounding the swamp unless you are covered with
heavy leather above your knees.
"You should be able to swim in case high water undermines the
temporary bridge we have built where Sleepy Snake Creek enters
the swamp. The fall and winter changes of weather are abrupt and
severe, while I would want strict watch kept every day. You would
always be alone, and I don't guarantee what is in the Limberlost.
It is lying here as it has lain since the beginning of time, and it
is alive with forms and voices. I don't pretend to say what all of
them come from; but from a few slinking shapes I've seen, and
hair-raising yells I've heard, I'd rather not confront their owners
myself; and I am neither weak nor fearful.
"Worst of all, any man who will enter the swamp to mark and steal
timber is desperate. One of my employees at the south camp, John
Carter, compelled me to discharge him for a number of serious reasons.
He came here, entered the swamp alone, and succeeded in locating
and marking a number of valuable trees that he was endeavoring
to sell to a rival company when we secured the lease. He has
sworn to have these trees if he has to die or to kill others to
get them; and he is a man that the strongest would not care to meet."
"But if he came to steal trees, wouldn't he bring teams and men
enough: that all anyone could do would be to watch and be after
you?" queried the boy.
"Yes," replied McLean.
"Then why couldn't I be watching just as closely, and coming as
fast, as an older, stronger man?" asked Freckles.
"Why, by George, you could!" exclaimed McLean. "I don't know as
the size of a man would be half so important as his grit and
faithfulness, come to think of it. Sit on that log there and we
will talk it over. What is your name?"
Freckles shook his head at the proffer of a seat, and folding his
arms, stood straight as the trees around him. He grew a shade
whiter, but his eyes never faltered.
"Freckles!" he said.
"Good enough for everyday," laughed McLean, "but I scarcely can
put `Freckles' on the company's books. Tell me your name."
"I haven't any name," replied the boy.
"I don't understand," said McLean.
"I was thinking from the voice and the face of you that you
wouldn't," said Freckles slowly. "I've spent more time on it than
I ever did on anything else in all me life, and I don't understand.
Does it seem to you that anyone would take a newborn baby and row
over it, until it was bruised black, cut off its hand, and leave it
out in a bitter night on the steps of a charity home, to the care
of strangers? That's what somebody did to me."
McLean stared aghast. He had no reply ready, and presently in a low
voice he suggested: "And after?"
"The Home people took me in, and I was there the full legal age and
several years over. For the most part we were a lot of little
Irishmen together. They could always find homes for the other
children, but nobody would ever be wanting me on account of me arm."
"Were they kind to you?" McLean regretted the question the minute
it was asked.
"I don't know," answered Freckles. The reply sounded so hopeless,
even to his own ears, that he hastened to qualify it by adding:
"You see, it's like this, sir. Kindnesses that people are paid to
lay off in job lots and that belong equally to several hundred
others, ain't going to be soaking into any one fellow so much."
"Go on," said McLean, nodding comprehendingly.
"There's nothing worth the taking of your time to tell,"
replied Freckles. "The Home was in Chicago, and I was there all
me life until three months ago. When I was too old for the
training they gave to the little children, they sent me to the
closest ward school as long as the law would let them; but I was
never like any of the other children, and they all knew it.
I'd to go and come like a prisoner, and be working around the
Home early and late for me board and clothes. I always wanted
to learn mighty bad, but I was glad when that was over.
"Every few days, all me life, I'd to be called up, looked over,
and refused a home and love, on account of me hand and ugly face;
but it was all the home I'd ever known, and I didn't seem to
belong to any place else.
"Then a new superintendent was put in. He wasn't for being like
any of the others, and he swore he'd weed me out the first thing
he did. He made a plan to send me down the State to a man he said
he knew who needed a boy. He wasn't for remembering to tell that man
that I was a hand short, and he knocked me down the minute he found
I was the boy who had been sent him. Between noon and that evening,
he and his son close my age had me in pretty much the same shape in
which I was found in the beginning, so I lay awake that night and
ran away. I'd like to have squared me account with that boy before
I left, but I didn't dare for fear of waking the old man, and I
knew I couldn't handle the two of them; but I'm hoping to meet him
alone some day before I die."
McLean tugged at his mustache to hide the smile on his lips, but he
liked the boy all the better for this confession.
"I didn't even have to steal clothes to get rid of starting in me
Home ones," Freckles continued, "for they had already taken all me
clean, neat things for the boy and put me into his rags, and that
went almost as sore as the beatings, for where I was we were always
kept tidy and sweet-smelling, anyway. I hustled clear into this
State before I learned that man couldn't have kept me if he'd
wanted to. When I thought I was good and away from him, I
commenced hunting work, but it is with everybody else just as it
is with you, sir. Big, strong, whole men are the only ones for
being wanted."
"I have been studying over this matter," answered McLean. "I am not
so sure but that a man no older than you and similar in every way
could do this work very well, if he were not a coward, and had it
in him to be trustworthy and industrious."
Freckles came forward a step.
"If you will give me a job where I can earn me food, clothes, and
a place to sleep," he said, "if I can have a Boss to work for like
other men, and a place I feel I've a right to, I will do precisely
what you tell me or die trying."
He spoke so convincingly that McLean believed, although in his
heart he knew that to employ a stranger would be wretched business
for a man with the interests he had involved.
"Very well," the Boss found himself answering, "I will enter you on
my pay rolls. We'll have supper, and then I will provide you with
clean clothing, wading-boots, the wire-mending apparatus, and
a revolver. The first thing in the morning, I will take you the
length of the trail myself and explain fully what I want done.
All I ask of you is to come to me at once at the south camp and
tell me as a man if you find this job too hard for you. It will not
surprise me. It is work that few men would perform faithfully.
What name shall I put down?"
Freckles' gaze never left McLean's face, and the Boss saw the
swift spasm of pain that swept his lonely, sensitive features.
"I haven't any name," he said stubbornly, "no more than one
somebody clapped on to me when they put me on the Home books, with
not the thought or care they'd name a house cat. I've seen how they
enter those poor little abandoned devils often enough to know.
What they called me is no more my name than it is yours. I don't
know what mine is, and I never will; but I am going to be your man
and do your work, and I'll be glad to answer to any name you choose
to call me. Won't you please be giving me a name, Mr. McLean?"
The Boss wheeled abruptly and began stacking his books. What he was
thinking was probably what any other gentleman would have thought
in the circumstances. With his eyes still downcast, and in a voice
harsh with huskiness, he spoke.
"I will tell you what we will do, my lad," he said. "My father
was my ideal man, and I loved him better than any other I have
ever known. He went out five years ago, but that he would have been
proud to leave you his name I firmly believe. If I give to you the
name of my nearest kin and the man I loved best--will that do?"
Freckles' rigid attitude relaxed suddenly. His head dropped, and
big tears splashed on the soiled calico shirt. McLean was not
surprised at the silence, for he found that talking came none too
easily just then.
"All right," he said. "I will write it on the roll--James Ross McLean."
"Thank you mightily," said Freckles. "That makes me feel almost as
if I belonged, already."
"You do," said McLean. "Until someone armed with every right comes
to claim you, you are mine. Now, come and take a bath, have some
supper, and go to bed."
As Freckles followed into the lights and sounds of the camp, his
heart and soul were singing for joy.
CHAPTER II
Wherein Freckles Proves His Mettle and Finds Friends
Next morning found Freckles in clean, whole clothing, fed,
and rested. Then McLean outfitted him and gave him careful
instruction in the use of his weapon. The Boss showed him around
the timber-line, and engaged him a place to board with the family
of his head teamster, Duncan, whom he had brought from Scotland with
him, and who lived in a small clearing he was working out between
the swamp and the corduroy. When the gang was started for the
south camp, Freckles was left to guard a fortune in the Limberlost.
That he was under guard himself those first weeks he never knew.
Each hour was torture to the boy. The restricted life of a great
city orphanage was the other extreme of the world compared with
the Limberlost. He was afraid for his life every minute. The heat
was intense. The heavy wading-boots rubbed his feet until they bled.
He was sore and stiff from his long tramp and outdoor exposure.
The seven miles of trail was agony at every step. He practiced at
night, under the direction of Duncan, until he grew sure in the use
of his revolver. He cut a stout hickorycudgel, with a knot on the
end as big as his fist; this never left his hand. What he thought
in those first days he himself could not recall clearly afterward.
His heart stood still every time he saw the beautiful marsh-grass
begin a sinuous waving AGAINST the play of the wind, as McLean had
told him it would. He bolted half a mile with the first boom of
the bittern, and his hat lifted with every yelp of the sheitpoke.
Once he saw a lean, shadowy form following him, and fired his revolver.
Then he was frightened worse than ever for fear it might have been
Duncan's collie.
The first afternoon that he found his wires down, and he was
compelled to plunge knee deep into the black swamp-muck to restring
them, he became so ill from fear and nervousness that he scarcely
could control his shaking hand to do the work. With every step, he
felt that he would miss secure footing and be swallowed in that
clinging sea of blackness. In dumb agony he plunged forward,
clinging to the posts and trees until he had finished restringing
and testing the wire. He had consumed much time. Night closed in.
The Limberlost stirred gently, then shook herself, growled, and
awoke around him.
There seemed to be a great owl hooting from every hollow tree, and
a little one screeching from every knothole. The bellowing of big
bullfrogs was not sufficiently deafening to shut out the wailing of
whip-poor-wills that seemed to come from every bush. Nighthawks swept
past him with their shivering cry, and bats struck his face.
A prowling wildcat missed its catch and screamed with rage.
A straying fox bayed incessantly for its mate.
The hair on the back of Freckles' neck arose as bristles, and his
knees wavered beneath him. He could not see whether the dreaded
snakes were on the trail, or, in the pandemonium, hear the rattle
for which McLean had cautioned him to listen. He stood motionless
the first place, you would be afraid. In stretching our lines, we
killed six rattlesnakes almost as long as your body and as thick as
your arm. It's the price of your life to start through the
marshgrass surrounding the swamp unless you are covered with
heavy leather above your knees.
"You should be able to swim in case high water undermines the
temporary bridge we have built where Sleepy Snake Creek enters
the swamp. The fall and winter changes of weather are abrupt and
severe, while I would want strict watch kept every day. You would
always be alone, and I don't guarantee what is in the Limberlost.
It is lying here as it has lain since the beginning of time, and it
is alive with forms and voices. I don't pretend to say what all of
them come from; but from a few slinking shapes I've seen, and
hair-raising yells I've heard, I'd rather not confront their owners
myself; and I am neither weak nor fearful.
"Worst of all, any man who will enter the swamp to mark and steal
timber is desperate. One of my employees at the south camp, John
Carter, compelled me to discharge him for a number of serious reasons.
He came here, entered the swamp alone, and succeeded in locating
and marking a number of valuable trees that he was endeavoring
to sell to a rival company when we secured the lease. He has
sworn to have these trees if he has to die or to kill others to
get them; and he is a man that the strongest would not care to meet."
"But if he came to steal trees, wouldn't he bring teams and men
enough: that all anyone could do would be to watch and be after
you?" queried the boy.
"Yes," replied McLean.
"Then why couldn't I be watching just as closely, and coming as
fast, as an older, stronger man?" asked Freckles.
"Why, by George, you could!" exclaimed McLean. "I don't know as
the size of a man would be half so important as his grit and
faithfulness, come to think of it. Sit on that log there and we
will talk it over. What is your name?"
Freckles shook his head at the proffer of a seat, and folding his
arms, stood straight as the trees around him. He grew a shade
whiter, but his eyes never faltered.
"Freckles!" he said.
"Good enough for everyday," laughed McLean, "but I scarcely can
put `Freckles' on the company's books. Tell me your name."
"I haven't any name," replied the boy.
"I don't understand," said McLean.
"I was thinking from the voice and the face of you that you
wouldn't," said Freckles slowly. "I've spent more time on it than
I ever did on anything else in all me life, and I don't understand.
Does it seem to you that anyone would take a newborn baby and row
over it, until it was bruised black, cut off its hand, and leave it
out in a bitter night on the steps of a charity home, to the care
of strangers? That's what somebody did to me."
McLean stared aghast. He had no reply ready, and presently in a low
voice he suggested: "And after?"
"The Home people took me in, and I was there the full legal age and
several years over. For the most part we were a lot of little
Irishmen together. They could always find homes for the other
children, but nobody would ever be wanting me on account of me arm."
"Were they kind to you?" McLean regretted the question the minute
it was asked.
"I don't know," answered Freckles. The reply sounded so hopeless,
even to his own ears, that he hastened to qualify it by adding:
"You see, it's like this, sir. Kindnesses that people are paid to
lay off in job lots and that belong equally to several hundred
others, ain't going to be soaking into any one fellow so much."
"Go on," said McLean, nodding comprehendingly.
"There's nothing worth the taking of your time to tell,"
replied Freckles. "The Home was in Chicago, and I was there all
me life until three months ago. When I was too old for the
training they gave to the little children, they sent me to the
closest ward school as long as the law would let them; but I was
never like any of the other children, and they all knew it.
I'd to go and come like a prisoner, and be working around the
Home early and late for me board and clothes. I always wanted
to learn mighty bad, but I was glad when that was over.
"Every few days, all me life, I'd to be called up, looked over,
and refused a home and love, on account of me hand and ugly face;
but it was all the home I'd ever known, and I didn't seem to
belong to any place else.
"Then a new superintendent was put in. He wasn't for being like
any of the others, and he swore he'd weed me out the first thing
he did. He made a plan to send me down the State to a man he said
he knew who needed a boy. He wasn't for remembering to tell that man
that I was a hand short, and he knocked me down the minute he found
I was the boy who had been sent him. Between noon and that evening,
he and his son close my age had me in pretty much the same shape in
which I was found in the beginning, so I lay awake that night and
ran away. I'd like to have squared me account with that boy before
I left, but I didn't dare for fear of waking the old man, and I
knew I couldn't handle the two of them; but I'm hoping to meet him
alone some day before I die."
McLean tugged at his mustache to hide the smile on his lips, but he
liked the boy all the better for this confession.
"I didn't even have to steal clothes to get rid of starting in me
Home ones," Freckles continued, "for they had already taken all me
clean, neat things for the boy and put me into his rags, and that
went almost as sore as the beatings, for where I was we were always
kept tidy and sweet-smelling, anyway. I hustled clear into this
State before I learned that man couldn't have kept me if he'd
wanted to. When I thought I was good and away from him, I
commenced hunting work, but it is with everybody else just as it
is with you, sir. Big, strong, whole men are the only ones for
being wanted."
"I have been studying over this matter," answered McLean. "I am not
so sure but that a man no older than you and similar in every way
could do this work very well, if he were not a coward, and had it
in him to be trustworthy and industrious."
Freckles came forward a step.
"If you will give me a job where I can earn me food, clothes, and
a place to sleep," he said, "if I can have a Boss to work for like
other men, and a place I feel I've a right to, I will do precisely
what you tell me or die trying."
He spoke so convincingly that McLean believed, although in his
heart he knew that to employ a stranger would be wretched business
for a man with the interests he had involved.
"Very well," the Boss found himself answering, "I will enter you on
my pay rolls. We'll have supper, and then I will provide you with
clean clothing, wading-boots, the wire-mending apparatus, and
a revolver. The first thing in the morning, I will take you the
length of the trail myself and explain fully what I want done.
All I ask of you is to come to me at once at the south camp and
tell me as a man if you find this job too hard for you. It will not
surprise me. It is work that few men would perform faithfully.
What name shall I put down?"
Freckles' gaze never left McLean's face, and the Boss saw the
swift spasm of pain that swept his lonely, sensitive features.
"I haven't any name," he said stubbornly, "no more than one
somebody clapped on to me when they put me on the Home books, with
not the thought or care they'd name a house cat. I've seen how they
enter those poor little abandoned devils often enough to know.
What they called me is no more my name than it is yours. I don't
know what mine is, and I never will; but I am going to be your man
and do your work, and I'll be glad to answer to any name you choose
to call me. Won't you please be giving me a name, Mr. McLean?"
The Boss wheeled abruptly and began stacking his books. What he was
thinking was probably what any other gentleman would have thought
in the circumstances. With his eyes still downcast, and in a voice
harsh with huskiness, he spoke.
"I will tell you what we will do, my lad," he said. "My father
was my ideal man, and I loved him better than any other I have
ever known. He went out five years ago, but that he would have been
proud to leave you his name I firmly believe. If I give to you the
name of my nearest kin and the man I loved best--will that do?"
Freckles' rigid attitude relaxed suddenly. His head dropped, and
big tears splashed on the soiled calico shirt. McLean was not
surprised at the silence, for he found that talking came none too
easily just then.
"All right," he said. "I will write it on the roll--James Ross McLean."
"Thank you mightily," said Freckles. "That makes me feel almost as
if I belonged, already."
"You do," said McLean. "Until someone armed with every right comes
to claim you, you are mine. Now, come and take a bath, have some
supper, and go to bed."
As Freckles followed into the lights and sounds of the camp, his
heart and soul were singing for joy.
CHAPTER II
Wherein Freckles Proves His Mettle and Finds Friends
Next morning found Freckles in clean, whole clothing, fed,
and rested. Then McLean outfitted him and gave him careful
instruction in the use of his weapon. The Boss showed him around
the timber-line, and engaged him a place to board with the family
of his head teamster, Duncan, whom he had brought from Scotland with
him, and who lived in a small clearing he was working out between
the swamp and the corduroy. When the gang was started for the
south camp, Freckles was left to guard a fortune in the Limberlost.
That he was under guard himself those first weeks he never knew.
Each hour was torture to the boy. The restricted life of a great
city orphanage was the other extreme of the world compared with
the Limberlost. He was afraid for his life every minute. The heat
was intense. The heavy wading-boots rubbed his feet until they bled.
He was sore and stiff from his long tramp and outdoor exposure.
The seven miles of trail was agony at every step. He practiced at
night, under the direction of Duncan, until he grew sure in the use
of his revolver. He cut a stout hickorycudgel, with a knot on the
end as big as his fist; this never left his hand. What he thought
in those first days he himself could not recall clearly afterward.
His heart stood still every time he saw the beautiful marsh-grass
begin a sinuous waving AGAINST the play of the wind, as McLean had
told him it would. He bolted half a mile with the first boom of
the bittern, and his hat lifted with every yelp of the sheitpoke.
Once he saw a lean, shadowy form following him, and fired his revolver.
Then he was frightened worse than ever for fear it might have been
Duncan's collie.
The first afternoon that he found his wires down, and he was
compelled to plunge knee deep into the black swamp-muck to restring
them, he became so ill from fear and nervousness that he scarcely
could control his shaking hand to do the work. With every step, he
felt that he would miss secure footing and be swallowed in that
clinging sea of blackness. In dumb agony he plunged forward,
clinging to the posts and trees until he had finished restringing
and testing the wire. He had consumed much time. Night closed in.
The Limberlost stirred gently, then shook herself, growled, and
awoke around him.
There seemed to be a great owl hooting from every hollow tree, and
a little one screeching from every knothole. The bellowing of big
bullfrogs was not sufficiently deafening to shut out the wailing of
whip-poor-wills that seemed to come from every bush. Nighthawks swept
past him with their shivering cry, and bats struck his face.
A prowling wildcat missed its catch and screamed with rage.
A straying fox bayed incessantly for its mate.
The hair on the back of Freckles' neck arose as bristles, and his
knees wavered beneath him. He could not see whether the dreaded
snakes were on the trail, or, in the pandemonium, hear the rattle
for which McLean had cautioned him to listen. He stood motionless
- beginning [bi´giniŋ]
n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词) - pretend [pri´tend] v.假装；借口；妄求 (初中英语单词)
- desperate [´despərit] a.拼死的；绝望的 (初中英语单词)
- discharge [dis´tʃɑ:dʒ] vt.&n.卸货；释放；解雇 (初中英语单词)
- valuable [´væljuəbəl, -jubəl] a.有价值的，贵重的 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- account [ə´kaunt] vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词)
- equally [´i:kwəli] ad.相等地；平等地 (初中英语单词)
- working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- coward [´kauəd] n.胆怯者 a.胆小的 (初中英语单词)
- wretched [´retʃid] a.可怜的；倒霉的 (初中英语单词)
- lonely [´ləunli] a.孤独的；无人烟的 (初中英语单词)
- abruptly [ə´brʌptli] ad.突然地；粗鲁地 (初中英语单词)
- firmly [´fə:mli] ad.坚固地，稳定地 (初中英语单词)
- weapon [´wepən] n.武器；斗争手段 (初中英语单词)
- torture [´tɔ:tʃə] n.&vt.折磨；痛苦；拷问 (初中英语单词)
- extreme [ik´stri:m] a.尽头的 n.极端 (初中英语单词)
- plunge [plʌndʒ] v.插进 n.投入；冲击 (初中英语单词)
- gently [´dʒentli] ad.温和地；静静地 (初中英语单词)
- sufficiently [sə´fiʃəntli] ad.充分地，足够地 (初中英语单词)
- surrounding [sə´raundiŋ] n.周围的事物 (高中英语单词)
- sleepy [´sli:pi] a.困的，想睡的 (高中英语单词)
- abrupt [ə´brʌpt] a.突然的；粗鲁的 (高中英语单词)
- strict [strikt] a.严厉的；精确的 (高中英语单词)
- guarantee [,gærən´ti:] n.保证；担保 vt.允诺 (高中英语单词)
- confront [kən´frʌnt] vt.(使)面对；正视 (高中英语单词)
- charity [´tʃæriti] n.施舍；慈悲；博爱 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- superintendent [,su:pərin´tendənt, ,sju:-] n.管理人，负责人 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- apparatus [,æpə´reitəs] n.仪器；装置 (高中英语单词)
- sensitive [´sensitiv] a.敏感的；感光的 (高中英语单词)
- intense [in´tens] a.强烈的；紧张的 (高中英语单词)
- shadowy [´ʃædəui] a.有阴影的；模糊的 (高中英语单词)
- motionless [´məuʃənləs] a.静止的；固定的 (高中英语单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- bridge [bridʒ] n.桥(梁)；鼻梁；桥牌 (英语四级单词)
- proffer [´prɔfə] vt.&n.提供；贡献 (英语四级单词)
- chicago [ʃi´kɑ:gəu] n.芝加哥 (英语四级单词)
- mustache [mə´stɑ:ʃ] n.髭，小胡子 (英语四级单词)
- revolver [ri´vɔlvə] n.左轮手枪；旋转者 (英语四级单词)
- calico [´kælikəu] n.白棉布；印花布 (英语四级单词)
- clearing [´kliəriŋ] n.(森林中的)空旷地 (英语四级单词)
- blackness [´blæknis] n.黑色；阴险 (英语四级单词)
- aghast [ə´gɑ:st] a.吓呆的，吃惊的 (英语六级单词)
- wanting [´wɔntiŋ, wɑ:n-] a.短缺的；不足的 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- hunting [´hʌntiŋ] n.打猎 (英语六级单词)
- stubbornly [´stʌbənli] ad.顽固地，倔强地 (英语六级单词)
- abandoned [ə´bændənd] a.被抛弃的；无约束的 (英语六级单词)
- downcast [´daunkɑ:st] a.沮丧的；向下看的 (英语六级单词)
- practiced [´præktist] a.经验丰富的；熟练的 (英语六级单词)
- hickory [´hikəri] n.山核桃(属) (英语六级单词)
- cudgel [´kʌdʒəl] n.短棍，棒 vt.棒打 (英语六级单词)
- footing [´futiŋ] n.立脚点；基础；地位 (英语六级单词)
- wildcat [´waildkæt] n.野猫 a.靠不住的 (英语六级单词)
- incessantly [in´sesntli] ad.不断地，不停地 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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