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The Silverado Squatters-Part13_ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON(1850-1894)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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must know the day of the month as well as Hanson and I. If a

broad hint were necessary, he had the broadest in the world.



For a large board had been nailed by the crown prince on the

very front of our house, between the door and window, painted



in cinnabar - the pigment of the country - with doggrel

rhymes and contumelious pictures, and announcing, in terms



unnecessarily figurative, that the trick was already played,

the claim already jumped, and Master Sam the legitimate



successor of Mr. Ronalds. But no, nothing could save that

man; QUEM DEUS VULT PERDERE, PRIUS DEMENTAT. As he came so



he went, and left his rights depending.

Late at night, by Silverado reckoning, and after we were all



abed, Mrs. Hanson returned to give us the newest of her news.

It was like a scene in a ship's steerage: all of us abed in



our different tiers, the single candle struggling with the

darkness, and this plump, handsome woman, seated on an



upturned valise beside the bunks, talking and showing her

fine teeth, and laughing till the rafters rang. Any ship, to



be sure, with a hundredth part as many holes in it as our

barrack, must long ago have gone to her last port. Up to



that time I had always imagined Mrs. Hanson's loquacity to be

mere incontinence, that she said what was uppermost for the



pleasure of speaking, and laughed and laughed again as a kind

of musicalaccompaniment. But I now found there was an art



in it, I found it less communicative than silence itself. I

wished to know why Ronalds had come; how he had found his way



without Rufe; and why, being on the spot, he had not

refreshed his title. She talked interminably on, but her



replies were never answers. She fled under a cloud of words;

and when I had made sure that she was purposely eluding me, I



dropped the subject in my turn, and let her rattle where she

would.



She had come to tell us that, instead of waiting for Tuesday,

the claim was to be jumped on the morrow. How? If the time



were not out, it was impossible. Why? If Ronalds had come

and gone, and done nothing, there was the less cause for



hurry. But again I could reach no satisfaction. The claim

was to be jumped next morning, that was all that she would



condescend upon.

And yet it was not jumped the next morning, nor yet the next,



and a whole week had come and gone before we heard more of

this exploit. That day week, however, a day of great heat,



Hanson, with a little roll of paper in his hand, and the

eternal pipe alight; Breedlove, his large, dull friend, to



act, I suppose, as witness; Mrs. Hanson, in her Sunday best;

and all the children, from the oldest to the youngest; -



arrived in a procession, tailing one behind another up the

path. Caliban was absent, but he had been chary of his



friendly visits since the row; and with that exception, the

whole family was gathered together as for a marriage or a



christening. Strong was sitting at work, in the shade of the

dwarf madronas near the forge; and they planted themselves



about him in a circle, one on a stone, another on the waggon

rails, a third on a piece of plank. Gradually the children



stole away up the canyon to where there was another chute,

somewhat smaller than the one across the dump; and down this



chute, for the rest of the afternoon, they poured one

avalanche of stones after another, waking the echoes of the



glen. Meantime we elders sat together on the platform,

Hanson and his friend smoking in silence like Indian sachems,



Mrs. Hanson rattling on as usual with an adroit volubility,

saying nothing, but keeping the party at their ease like a



courtly hostess.

Not a word occurred about the business of the day. Once,



twice, and thrice I tried to slide the subject in, but was

discouraged by the stoic apathy of Rufe, and beaten down



before the pouring verbiage of his wife. There is nothing of

the Indian brave about me, and I began to grill with



impatience. At last, like a highwayrobber, I cornered

Hanson, and bade him stand and deliver his business.



Thereupon he gravely rose, as though to hint that this was

not a proper place, nor the subject one suitable for squaws,



and I, following his example, led him up the plank into our

barrack. There he bestowed himself on a box, and unrolled



his papers with fastidious deliberation. There were two

sheets of note-paper, and an old mining notice, dated May






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