酷兔英语
    当前位置:
  1. 首页
  2. 文章
  3. 娱乐英语
  4. 原版小说
  5. 正文

On the Track-Part6_Henry Lawson(1867-1922)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

0 收藏 0 分享 0 赞

章节正文
文章总共2页
not far from Palmer's place.



As soon as he had dumped Mrs. Palmer, Dave Middleton left the cart and,

mounting a fresh horse which stood ready saddled in the yard,



galloped off through the scrub in a different direction.

Half an hour afterwards Joe Middleton came home on a horse



that had been almost ridden to death. His mother came out

at the sound of his arrival, and he anxiously asked her:



"How is she?"

"Did you find Doc. Wild?" asked the mother.



"No, confound him!" exclaimed Joe bitterly. "He promised me faithfully

to come over on Wednesday and stay until Maggie was right again.



Now he has left Dean's and gone -- Lord knows where. I suppose

he is drinking again. How is Maggie?"



"It's all over now -- the child is born. It's a boy; but she is very weak.

Dave got Mrs. Palmer here just in time. I had better tell you at once



that Mrs. Palmer says if we don't get a doctor here to-night

poor Maggie won't live."



"Good God! and what am I to do?" cried Joe desperately.

"Is there any other doctor within reach?"



"No; there is only the one at B----; that's forty miles away,

and he is laid up with the broken leg he got in the buggy accident.



Where's Dave?"

"Gone to Black's shanty. One of Mrs. Palmer's sons thought



he remembered someone saying that Doc. Wild was there last week.

That's fifteen miles away."



"But it is our only hope," said Joe dejectedly. "I wish to God

that I had taken Maggie to some civilised place a month ago."



Doc. Wild was a well-knowncharacter among the bushmen of New South Wales,

and although the profession did not recognise him, and denounced him



as an empiric, his skill was undoubted. Bushmen had great faith in him,

and would often ride incredible distances in order to bring him



to the bedside of a sick friend. He drank fearfully,

but was seldom incapable of treating a patient; he would, however,



sometimes be found in an obstinate mood and refuse to travel

to the side of a sick person, and then the devil himself



could not make the doctor budge. But for all this he was very generous --

a fact that could, no doubt, be testified to by many a grateful sojourner



in the lonely bush.

II.



The Only Hope

Night came on, and still there was no change in the condition



of the young wife, and no sign of the doctor. Several stockmen

from the neighbouring stations, hearing that there was trouble



at Joe Middleton's, had ridden over, and had galloped off

on long, hopeless rides in search of a doctor. Being generally free



from sickness themselves, these bushmen look upon it as a serious business

even in its mildest form; what is more, their sympathy is always practical



where it is possible for it to be so. One day, while out on the run

after an "outlaw", Joe Middleton was badly thrown from his horse,



and the break-neck riding that was done on that occasion

from the time the horse came home with empty saddle until the rider



was safe in bed and attended by a doctor was something extraordinary,

even for the bush.



Before the time arrived when Dave Middleton might reasonably have been

expected to return, the station people were anxiously watching for him,



all except the old blackfellow and the two boys, who had gone

to yard the sheep.



The party had been increased by Jimmy Nowlett, the bullocky,

who had just arrived with a load of fencing wire and provisions for Middleton.



Jimmy was standing in the moonlight, whip in hand, looking as anxious

as the husband himself, and endeavouring to calculate by mental arithmetic



the exact time it ought to take Dave to complete his double journey,

taking into consideration the distance, the obstacles in the way,



and the chances of horse-flesh.

But the time which Jimmy fixed for the arrival came without Dave.



Old Peter (as he was generally called, though he was not really old)

stood aside in his usual sullen manner, his hat drawn down



over his brow and eyes, and nothing visible but a thick and very horizontal

black beard, from the depth of which emerged large clouds of very strong



tobacco smoke, the product of a short, black, clay pipe.

They had almost given up all hope of seeing Dave return that night,



when Peter slowly and deliberately removed his pipe and grunted:




文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文
Copyright © 2023 Qeto All rights reserved.
商务合作 | 联系我们 | 关于我们 | 版权声明 | 隐私条款 | 如果智培

京ICP备05059198号-1 京公网安备 11011202003401号