章节正文
trail and found Smoke's tracks where he had left it to take refuge
on the bank. The man explained the nature of his find.
"What'd you kill Joe Kinade for?" he of the black beard asked.
"I tell you I didn't--" Smoke began.
"Aw, what's the good of talkin'. We got you red-handed. Right up
there's where you left the trail when you heard him comin'. You
laid among the trees an' bushwhacked him. A short shot. You
couldn't a-missed. Pierre, go an' get that gun he dropped."
"You might let me tell what happened," Smoke objected.
"You shut up," the man snarled at him. "I reckon your gun'll tell
the story."
All the men examined Smoke's rifle, ejecting and counting the
cartridges, and examining the barrel at muzzle and breech.
"One shot," Blackbeard concluded.
Pierre, with nostrils that quivered and distended like a deer's,
sniffed at the breech.
"Him one fresh shot," he said.
"The bullet entered his back," Smoke said. "He was facing me when
he was shot. You see, it came from the other bank."
Blackbeard considered this proposition for a scant second, and shook
his head.
"Nope. It won't do. Turn him around to face the other bank--that's
how you whopped him in the back. Some of you boys run up an' down
the trail and see if you can see any tracks making for the other
bank."
Their report was, that on that side the snow was unbroken. Not even
a snow-shoe rabbit had crossed it. Blackbeard, bending over the
dead man, straightened up, with a woolly, furry wad in his hand.
Shredding this, he found imbedded in the centre the bullet which had
perforated the body. Its nose was spread to the size of a half-
dollar, its butt-end, steel-jacketed, was undamaged. He compared it
with a cartridge from Smoke's belt.
"That's plain enough evidence, Stranger, to satisfy a blind man.
It's soft-nosed an' steel-jacketed; yourn is soft-nosed and steel-
jacketed. It's thirty-thirty; yourn is thirty-thirty. It's
manufactured by the J. and T. Arms Company; yourn is manufactured by
the J. and T. Arms Company. Now you come along an' we'll go over to
the bank an' see jest how you done it."
"I was bushwhacked myself," Smoke said. "Look at the hole in my
parka."
While Blackbeard examined it, one of the voyageurs threw open the
breech of the dead man's gun. It was patent to all that it had been
fired once. The empty cartridge was still in the chamber.
"A damn shame poor Joe didn't get you," Blackbeard said bitterly.
"But he did pretty well with a hole like that in him. Come on,
you."
"Search the other bank first," Smoke urged.
"You shut up an' come on, an' let the facts do the talkin'."
They left the trail at the same spot he had, and followed it on up
the bank and in among the trees.
"Him dance that place keep him feet warm," Louis pointed out. "That
place him crawl on belly. That place him put one elbow w'en him
shoot--"
"And by God there's the empty cartridge he had done it with!" was
Blackbeard's discovery. "Boys, there's only one thing to do--"
"You might ask me how I came to fire that shot," Smoke interrupted.
"An' I might knock your teeth into your gullet if you butt in again.
You can answer them questions later on. Now, boys, we're decent an'
law-abidin', an' we got to handle this right an' regular. How far
do you reckon we've come, Pierre?"
"Twenty mile I t'ink for sure."
"All right. We'll cache the outfit an' run him an' poor Joe back to
Two Cabins. I reckon we've seen an' can testify to what'll stretch
his neck."
IV.
It was three hours after dark when the dead man, Smoke, and his
captors arrived at Two Cabins. By the starlight, Smoke could make
out a dozen or more recently built cabins snuggling about a larger
and older cabin on a flat by the river bank. Thrust inside this
older cabin, he found it tenanted by a young giant of a man, his
wife, and an old blind man. The woman, whom her husband called
'Lucy,' was herself a strapping creature of the frontier type. The
old man, as Smoke learned afterwards, had been a trapper on the
Stewart for years, and had gone finally blind the winter before.
The camp of Two Cabins, he was also to learn, had been made the
previous fall by a dozen men who arrived in half as many poling-
boats loaded with provisions. Here they had found the blind
trapper, on the site of Two Cabins, and about his cabin they had
built their own. Later arrivals, mushing up the ice with dog-teams,
had tripled the population. There was plenty of meat in camp, and
good low-pay dirt had been discovered and was being worked.
In five minutes, all the men of Two cabins were jammed into the
room. Smoke, shoved off into a corner, ignored and scowled at, his
hands and feet tied with thongs of moosehide, looked on. Thirty-
eight men he counted, a wild and husky crew, all frontiersmen of the
States or voyageurs from Upper Canada. His captors told the tale
over and over, each the centre of an excited and wrathful group.
There were mutterings of "Lynch him now--why wait?" And, once, a
big Irishman was restrained only by force from rushing upon the
helpless prisoner and giving him a beating.
It was while counting the men that Smoke caught sight of a familiar
face. It was Breck, the man whose boat Smoke had run through the
rapids. He wondered why the other did not come and speak to him,
but himself gave no sign of recognition. Later, when with shielded
face Breck passed him a significant wink, Smoke understood.
Blackbeard, whom Smoke heard called Eli Harding, ended the
discussion as to whether or not the prisoner should be immediately
lynched.
"Hold on," Harding roared. "Keep your shirts on. That man belongs
to me. I caught him an' I brought him here. D'ye think I brought
him all the way here to be lynched? Not on your life. I could a-
done that myself when I found him. I brought him here for a fair
an' impartial trial, an' by God, a fair an' impartial trial he's
goin' to get. He's tied up safe an' sound. Chuck him in a bunk
till morning, an' we'll hold the trial right here."
V.
Smoke woke up. A draught, that possessed all the rigidity of an
icicle, was boring into the front of his shoulder as he lay on his
side facing the wall. When he had been tied into the bunk there had
been no such draught, and now the outside air, driving into the
heated atmosphere of the cabin with the pressure of fifty below
zero, was sufficient advertizement that some one from without had
pulled away the moss-chinking between the logs. He squirmed as far
as his bonds would permit, then craned his neck forward until his
lips just managed to reach the crack.
"Who is it?" he whispered.
"Breck," came the answer. "Be careful you don't make a noise. I'm
going to pass a knife in to you."
"No good," Smoke said. "I couldn't use it. My hands are tied
behind me and made fast to the leg of the bunk. Besides, you
couldn't get a knife through that crack. But something must be
done. Those fellows are of a temper to hang me, and, of course, you
know I didn't kill that man."
"It wasn't necessary to mention it, Smoke. And if you did you had
your reasons. Which isn't the point at all. I want to get you out
of this. It's a tough bunch of men here. You've seen them.
They're shut off from the world, and they make and enforce their own
law--by miner's meeting, you know. They handled two men already--
both grub-thieves. One they hiked from camp without an ounce of
grub and no matches. He made about forty miles and lasted a couple
of days before he froze stiff. Two weeks ago they hiked the second
man. They gave him his choice: no grub, or ten lashes for each
day's ration. He stood for forty lashes before he fainted. And now
they've got you, and every last one is convinced you killed Kinade."
"The man who killed Kinade, shot at me, too. His bullet broke the
skin on my shoulder. Get them to delay the trial till some one goes
up and searches the bank where the murderer hid."
"No use. They take the evidence of Harding and the five Frenchmen
with him. Besides, they haven't had a hanging yet, and they're keen
for it. You see, things have been pretty monotonous. They haven't
located anything big, and they got tired of hunting for Surprise
Lake. They did some stampeding the first part of the winter, but
they've got over that now. Scurvy is beginning to show up amongst
them, too, and they're just ripe for excitement."
"And it looks like I'll furnish it," was Smoke's comment. "Say,
Breck, how did you ever fall in with such a God-forsaken bunch?"
"After I got the claims at Squaw Creek opened up and some men to
working, I came up here by way of the Stewart, hunting for Two
Cabins. They'd beaten me to it, so I've been higher up the Stewart.
Just got back yesterday out of grub."
"Find anything?"
"Nothing much. But I think I've got a hydraulic proposition that'll
work big when the country's opened up. It's that, or a gold-
dredger."
"Hold on," Smoke interrupted. "Wait a minute. Let me think."
He was very much aware of the snores of the sleepers as he pursued
the idea that had flashed into his mind.
"Say, Breck, have they opened up the meat-packs my dogs carried?"
"A couple. I was watching. They put them in Harding's cache."
"Did they find anything?"
"Meat."
"Good. You've got to get into the brown canvas pack that's patched
with moosehide. You'll find a few pounds of lumpy gold. You've
never seen gold like it in the country, nor has anybody else.
Here's what you've got to do. Listen."
A quarter of an hour later, fully instructed and complaining that
his toes were freezing, Breck went away. Smoke, his own nose and
one cheek frosted by proximity to the chink, rubbed them against the
blankets for half an hour before the blaze and bite of the returning
blood assured him of the safety of his flesh.
VI.
"My mind's made up right now. There ain't no doubt but what he
killed Kinade. We heard the whole thing last night. What's the
good of goin' over it again? I vote guilty."
In such fashion, Smoke's trial began. The speaker, a loose-jointed,
hard-rock man from Colorado, manifested irritation and disgust when
Harding set his suggestion aside, demanded the proceedings should be
regular, and nominated one, Shunk Wilson, for judge and chairman of
the meeting. The population of Two Cabins constituted the jury,
though, after some discussion, the woman, Lucy, was denied the right
to vote on Smoke's guilt or innocence.
While this was going on, Smoke, jammed into a corner on a bunk,
overheard a whispered conversation between Breck and a miner.
"You haven't fifty pounds of flour you'll sell?" Breck queried.
"You ain't got the dust to pay the price I'm askin'," was the reply.
"I'll give you two hundred."
The man shook his head.
"Three hundred. Three-fifty."
At four hundred, the man nodded, and said: "Come on over to my
cabin an' weigh out the dust."
The two squeezed their way to the door, and slipped out. After a
few minutes Breck returned alone.
Harding was testifying, when Smoke saw the door shoved open
slightly, and in the crack appear the face of the man who had sold
the flour. He was grimacing and beckoning emphatically to one
inside, who arose from near the stove and started to work toward the
door.
"Where are you goin', Sam?" Shunk Wilson demanded.
"I'll be back in a jiffy," Sam explained. "I jes' got to go."
Smoke was permitted to question the witnesses, and he was in the
middle of the cross-examination of Harding, when from without came
on the bank. The man explained the nature of his find.
"What'd you kill Joe Kinade for?" he of the black beard asked.
"I tell you I didn't--" Smoke began.
"Aw, what's the good of talkin'. We got you red-handed. Right up
there's where you left the trail when you heard him comin'. You
laid among the trees an' bushwhacked him. A short shot. You
couldn't a-missed. Pierre, go an' get that gun he dropped."
"You might let me tell what happened," Smoke objected.
"You shut up," the man snarled at him. "I reckon your gun'll tell
the story."
All the men examined Smoke's rifle, ejecting and counting the
cartridges, and examining the barrel at muzzle and breech.
"One shot," Blackbeard concluded.
Pierre, with nostrils that quivered and distended like a deer's,
sniffed at the breech.
"Him one fresh shot," he said.
"The bullet entered his back," Smoke said. "He was facing me when
he was shot. You see, it came from the other bank."
Blackbeard considered this proposition for a scant second, and shook
his head.
"Nope. It won't do. Turn him around to face the other bank--that's
how you whopped him in the back. Some of you boys run up an' down
the trail and see if you can see any tracks making for the other
bank."
Their report was, that on that side the snow was unbroken. Not even
a snow-shoe rabbit had crossed it. Blackbeard, bending over the
dead man, straightened up, with a woolly, furry wad in his hand.
Shredding this, he found imbedded in the centre the bullet which had
perforated the body. Its nose was spread to the size of a half-
dollar, its butt-end, steel-jacketed, was undamaged. He compared it
with a cartridge from Smoke's belt.
"That's plain enough evidence, Stranger, to satisfy a blind man.
It's soft-nosed an' steel-jacketed; yourn is soft-nosed and steel-
jacketed. It's thirty-thirty; yourn is thirty-thirty. It's
manufactured by the J. and T. Arms Company; yourn is manufactured by
the J. and T. Arms Company. Now you come along an' we'll go over to
the bank an' see jest how you done it."
"I was bushwhacked myself," Smoke said. "Look at the hole in my
parka."
While Blackbeard examined it, one of the voyageurs threw open the
breech of the dead man's gun. It was patent to all that it had been
fired once. The empty cartridge was still in the chamber.
"A damn shame poor Joe didn't get you," Blackbeard said bitterly.
"But he did pretty well with a hole like that in him. Come on,
you."
"Search the other bank first," Smoke urged.
"You shut up an' come on, an' let the facts do the talkin'."
They left the trail at the same spot he had, and followed it on up
the bank and in among the trees.
"Him dance that place keep him feet warm," Louis pointed out. "That
place him crawl on belly. That place him put one elbow w'en him
shoot--"
"And by God there's the empty cartridge he had done it with!" was
Blackbeard's discovery. "Boys, there's only one thing to do--"
"You might ask me how I came to fire that shot," Smoke interrupted.
"An' I might knock your teeth into your gullet if you butt in again.
You can answer them questions later on. Now, boys, we're decent an'
law-abidin', an' we got to handle this right an' regular. How far
do you reckon we've come, Pierre?"
"Twenty mile I t'ink for sure."
"All right. We'll cache the outfit an' run him an' poor Joe back to
Two Cabins. I reckon we've seen an' can testify to what'll stretch
his neck."
IV.
It was three hours after dark when the dead man, Smoke, and his
captors arrived at Two Cabins. By the starlight, Smoke could make
out a dozen or more recently built cabins snuggling about a larger
and older cabin on a flat by the river bank. Thrust inside this
older cabin, he found it tenanted by a young giant of a man, his
wife, and an old blind man. The woman, whom her husband called
'Lucy,' was herself a strapping creature of the frontier type. The
old man, as Smoke learned afterwards, had been a trapper on the
Stewart for years, and had gone finally blind the winter before.
The camp of Two Cabins, he was also to learn, had been made the
previous fall by a dozen men who arrived in half as many poling-
boats loaded with provisions. Here they had found the blind
trapper, on the site of Two Cabins, and about his cabin they had
built their own. Later arrivals, mushing up the ice with dog-teams,
had tripled the population. There was plenty of meat in camp, and
good low-pay dirt had been discovered and was being worked.
In five minutes, all the men of Two cabins were jammed into the
room. Smoke, shoved off into a corner, ignored and scowled at, his
hands and feet tied with thongs of moosehide, looked on. Thirty-
eight men he counted, a wild and husky crew, all frontiersmen of the
States or voyageurs from Upper Canada. His captors told the tale
over and over, each the centre of an excited and wrathful group.
There were mutterings of "Lynch him now--why wait?" And, once, a
big Irishman was restrained only by force from rushing upon the
helpless prisoner and giving him a beating.
It was while counting the men that Smoke caught sight of a familiar
face. It was Breck, the man whose boat Smoke had run through the
rapids. He wondered why the other did not come and speak to him,
but himself gave no sign of recognition. Later, when with shielded
face Breck passed him a significant wink, Smoke understood.
Blackbeard, whom Smoke heard called Eli Harding, ended the
discussion as to whether or not the prisoner should be immediately
lynched.
"Hold on," Harding roared. "Keep your shirts on. That man belongs
to me. I caught him an' I brought him here. D'ye think I brought
him all the way here to be lynched? Not on your life. I could a-
done that myself when I found him. I brought him here for a fair
an' impartial trial, an' by God, a fair an' impartial trial he's
goin' to get. He's tied up safe an' sound. Chuck him in a bunk
till morning, an' we'll hold the trial right here."
V.
Smoke woke up. A draught, that possessed all the rigidity of an
icicle, was boring into the front of his shoulder as he lay on his
side facing the wall. When he had been tied into the bunk there had
been no such draught, and now the outside air, driving into the
heated atmosphere of the cabin with the pressure of fifty below
zero, was sufficient advertizement that some one from without had
pulled away the moss-chinking between the logs. He squirmed as far
as his bonds would permit, then craned his neck forward until his
lips just managed to reach the crack.
"Who is it?" he whispered.
"Breck," came the answer. "Be careful you don't make a noise. I'm
going to pass a knife in to you."
"No good," Smoke said. "I couldn't use it. My hands are tied
behind me and made fast to the leg of the bunk. Besides, you
couldn't get a knife through that crack. But something must be
done. Those fellows are of a temper to hang me, and, of course, you
know I didn't kill that man."
"It wasn't necessary to mention it, Smoke. And if you did you had
your reasons. Which isn't the point at all. I want to get you out
of this. It's a tough bunch of men here. You've seen them.
They're shut off from the world, and they make and enforce their own
law--by miner's meeting, you know. They handled two men already--
both grub-thieves. One they hiked from camp without an ounce of
grub and no matches. He made about forty miles and lasted a couple
of days before he froze stiff. Two weeks ago they hiked the second
man. They gave him his choice: no grub, or ten lashes for each
day's ration. He stood for forty lashes before he fainted. And now
they've got you, and every last one is convinced you killed Kinade."
"The man who killed Kinade, shot at me, too. His bullet broke the
skin on my shoulder. Get them to delay the trial till some one goes
up and searches the bank where the murderer hid."
"No use. They take the evidence of Harding and the five Frenchmen
with him. Besides, they haven't had a hanging yet, and they're keen
for it. You see, things have been pretty monotonous. They haven't
located anything big, and they got tired of hunting for Surprise
Lake. They did some stampeding the first part of the winter, but
they've got over that now. Scurvy is beginning to show up amongst
them, too, and they're just ripe for excitement."
"And it looks like I'll furnish it," was Smoke's comment. "Say,
Breck, how did you ever fall in with such a God-forsaken bunch?"
"After I got the claims at Squaw Creek opened up and some men to
working, I came up here by way of the Stewart, hunting for Two
Cabins. They'd beaten me to it, so I've been higher up the Stewart.
Just got back yesterday out of grub."
"Find anything?"
"Nothing much. But I think I've got a hydraulic proposition that'll
work big when the country's opened up. It's that, or a gold-
dredger."
"Hold on," Smoke interrupted. "Wait a minute. Let me think."
He was very much aware of the snores of the sleepers as he pursued
the idea that had flashed into his mind.
"Say, Breck, have they opened up the meat-packs my dogs carried?"
"A couple. I was watching. They put them in Harding's cache."
"Did they find anything?"
"Meat."
"Good. You've got to get into the brown canvas pack that's patched
with moosehide. You'll find a few pounds of lumpy gold. You've
never seen gold like it in the country, nor has anybody else.
Here's what you've got to do. Listen."
A quarter of an hour later, fully instructed and complaining that
his toes were freezing, Breck went away. Smoke, his own nose and
one cheek frosted by proximity to the chink, rubbed them against the
blankets for half an hour before the blaze and bite of the returning
blood assured him of the safety of his flesh.
VI.
"My mind's made up right now. There ain't no doubt but what he
killed Kinade. We heard the whole thing last night. What's the
good of goin' over it again? I vote guilty."
In such fashion, Smoke's trial began. The speaker, a loose-jointed,
hard-rock man from Colorado, manifested irritation and disgust when
Harding set his suggestion aside, demanded the proceedings should be
regular, and nominated one, Shunk Wilson, for judge and chairman of
the meeting. The population of Two Cabins constituted the jury,
though, after some discussion, the woman, Lucy, was denied the right
to vote on Smoke's guilt or innocence.
While this was going on, Smoke, jammed into a corner on a bunk,
overheard a whispered conversation between Breck and a miner.
"You haven't fifty pounds of flour you'll sell?" Breck queried.
"You ain't got the dust to pay the price I'm askin'," was the reply.
"I'll give you two hundred."
The man shook his head.
"Three hundred. Three-fifty."
At four hundred, the man nodded, and said: "Come on over to my
cabin an' weigh out the dust."
The two squeezed their way to the door, and slipped out. After a
few minutes Breck returned alone.
Harding was testifying, when Smoke saw the door shoved open
slightly, and in the crack appear the face of the man who had sold
the flour. He was grimacing and beckoning emphatically to one
inside, who arose from near the stove and started to work toward the
door.
"Where are you goin', Sam?" Shunk Wilson demanded.
"I'll be back in a jiffy," Sam explained. "I jes' got to go."
Smoke was permitted to question the witnesses, and he was in the
middle of the cross-examination of Harding, when from without came
- reckon [´rekən]
v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词) - barrel [´bærəl] n.(琵琶)桶；圆筒 (初中英语单词)
- bullet [´bulit] n.子弹 (初中英语单词)
- rabbit [´ræbit] n.兔子，野兔 (初中英语单词)
- patent [´peitənt, ´pæ-] a.专利的 n.专利品 (初中英语单词)
- pointed [´pɔintid] a.尖(锐)的；中肯的 (初中英语单词)
- thrust [θrʌst] v.&n.猛推；冲；刺；挤进 (初中英语单词)
- frontier [´frʌntiə] n.国境；边疆；边界 (初中英语单词)
- recognition [,rekəg´niʃən] n.认出；认识；承认 (初中英语单词)
- atmosphere [´ætməsfiə] n.大气；空气；气氛 (初中英语单词)
- pressure [´preʃə] n.压榨 vt.对...施压力 (初中英语单词)
- temper [´tempə] n.韧度 v.锻炼；调和 (初中英语单词)
- enforce [in´fɔ:s] vt.执行；强迫；加强 (初中英语单词)
- beginning [bi´giniŋ] n.开始，开端；起源 (初中英语单词)
- comment [´kɔment] n.&v.评论；评注；注意 (初中英语单词)
- beaten [´bi:tn] beat 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- yesterday [´jestədi] n.&ad.昨天；前不久 (初中英语单词)
- canvas [´kænvəs] n.帆布；油画(布) (初中英语单词)
- speaker [´spi:kə] n.演讲人；代言人 (初中英语单词)
- disgust [dis´gʌst] n.厌恶 vt.令(人)作呕 (初中英语单词)
- suggestion [sə´dʒestʃən] n.建议，提议；暗示 (初中英语单词)
- discussion [di´skʌʃən] n.讨论；辩论 (初中英语单词)
- proposition [,prɔpə´ziʃən] n.提议；主张；陈述 (高中英语单词)
- decent [´di:sənt] a.体面的，正派的 (高中英语单词)
- outfit [´aut,fit] n.装备 vt.供给；装备 (高中英语单词)
- testify [´testifai] v.证明；证实；表明 (高中英语单词)
- learned [´lə:nid] a.有学问的，博学的 (高中英语单词)
- significant [sig´nifikənt] a.重要的；意义重大的 (高中英语单词)
- draught [drɑ:ft] n.通风，通气；吸出 (高中英语单词)
- murderer [´mə:dərə] n.杀人犯，凶手 (高中英语单词)
- hanging [´hæŋiŋ] n.绞刑 a.悬挂着的 (高中英语单词)
- colorado [,kɔlə´rɑ:dəu] n.科罗拉多(州) (高中英语单词)
- muzzle [´mʌzəl] n.枪口，炮口 (英语四级单词)
- unbroken [ʌn´brəukən] a.未破的；不间断的 (英语四级单词)
- trapper [´træpə] n.夹兽者 (英语四级单词)
- ration [´ræʃən] n.定量；食品 (英语四级单词)
- monotonous [mə´nɔtənəs] a.单(音)调的 (英语四级单词)
- cartridge [´kɑ:tridʒ] n.弹药筒；子弹 (英语六级单词)
- starlight [´stɑ:lait] n.星光 (英语六级单词)
- irishman [´aiəriʃmən] n.爱尔兰人 (英语六级单词)
- impartial [im´pɑ:ʃəl] a.公平的，无私的 (英语六级单词)
- hunting [´hʌntiŋ] n.打猎 (英语六级单词)
- assured [ə´ʃuəd] a.确实的 n.被保险人 (英语六级单词)
- irritation [,iri´teiʃən] n.(被)激怒；疼痛处 (英语六级单词)
- emphatically [im´fætikəli] ad.强调地；断然地 (英语六级单词)
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