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The Faith of Men-Part5_JACK LONDON(1876-1916)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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drag it in from the hunt? And it were a lie to say one man hath



eaten it; yet have we seen nor hide nor hair. Where is the meat, O

Moosu? Thou hast the ear of God. Where is the meat?"



"'And the people cried, "Thou hast the ear of God. Where is the

meat?" And they put their heads together and were afraid. Then I



went among them, speaking fearsomely of the unknown things, of the

dead that come and go like shadows and do evil deeds, till they



cried aloud in terror and gathered all together, like little

children afraid of the dark. Neewak made harangue, laying this



evil that had come upon them at the door of Moosu. When he had

done, there was a furiouscommotion, and they took spears in their



hands, and tusks of walrus, and clubs, and stones from the beach.

But Moosu ran away home, and because he had not drunken of hooch



they could not catch him, and fell one over another and made haste

slowly. Even now they do howl without his igloo, and his woman-



folk within, and what of the noise, he cannot make himself heard.'

"'O Angeit, thou hast done well,' I commanded. 'Go now, taking



this empty sled and the lean dogs, and ride fast to the igloo of

Moosu; and before the people, who are drunken, are aware, throw him



quick upon the sled and bring him to me.'

"I waited and gave good advice to the faithful ones till Angeit



returned. Moosu was on the sled, and I saw by the fingermarks on

his face that his womankind had done well by him. But he tumbled



off and fell in the snow at my feet, crying: 'O master, thou wilt

forgive Moosu, thy servant, for the wrong things he has done! Thou



art a great man! Surely wilt thou forgive!'

"'Call me "brother," Moosu--call me "brother,"' I chided, lifting



him to his feet with the toe of my moccasin. 'Wilt thou evermore

obey?'



"'Yea, master,' he whimpered, 'evermore.'

"'Then dispose thy body, so, across the sled,' I shifted the



dogwhip to my right hand. 'And direct thy face downwards, toward

the snow. And make haste, for we journey south this day.' And



when he was well fixed I laid the lash upon him, reciting, at every

stroke, the wrongs he had done me. 'This for thy disobedience in



general--whack! And this for thy disobedience in particular--

whack! whack! And this for Esanetuk! And this for thy soul's



welfare! And this for the grace of thy authority! And this for

Kluktu! And this for thy rights God-given! And this for thy fat



firstlings! And this and this for thy income-tax and thy loaves

and fishes! And this for all thy disobedience! And this, finally,



that thou mayest henceforth walk softly and with understanding!

Now cease thy sniffling and get up! Gird on thy snowshoes and go



to the fore and break trail for the dogs. CHOOK! MUSH-ON! Git!'"

Thomas Stevens smiled quietly to himself as he lighted his fifth



cigar and sent curling smoke-rings ceilingward.

"But how about the people of Tattarat?" I asked. "Kind of rough,



wasn't it, to leave them flat with famine?"

And he answered, laughing, between two smoke-rings, "Were there not



the fat dogs?"

THE FAITH OF MEN



"Tell you what we'll do; we'll shake for it."

"That suits me," said the second man, turning, as he spoke, to the



Indian that was mending snow-shoes in a corner of the cabin.

"Here, you Billebedam, take a run down to Oleson's cabin like a



good fellow, and tell him we want to borrow his dice box."

This sudden request in the midst of a council on wages of men,



wood, and grub surprised Billebedam. Besides, it was early in the

day, and he had never known white men of the calibre of Pentfield



and Hutchinson to dice and play till the day's work was done. But

his face was impassive as a Yukon Indian's should be, as he pulled



on his mittens and went out the door.

Though eight o'clock, it was still dark outside, and the cabin was



lighted by a tallow candle thrust into an empty whisky bottle. It

stood on the pine-board table in the middle of a disarray of dirty



tin dishes. Tallow from innumerable candles had dripped down the

long neck of the bottle and hardened into a miniatureglacier. The



small room, which composed the entire cabin, was as badly littered

as the table; while at one end, against the wall, were two bunks,



one above the other, with the blankets turned down just as the two

men had crawled out in the morning.



Lawrence Pentfield and Corry Hutchinson were millionaires, though

they did not look it. There seemed nothing unusual about them,



while they would have passed muster as fair specimens of lumbermen

in any Michigan camp. But outside, in the darkness, where holes






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