the faith of men-第23节

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He　moved　never　a　muscle；　nor　twitched　a　hair；　when；　for　the　first

time；　Leclere　tottered　out　on　the　missionary's　arm；　and　sank　down

slowly　and　with　infinite　caution　on　the　three…legged　stool。



〃BON！〃　he　said。　　〃BON！　　De　good　sun！〃　　And　he　stretched　out　his

wasted　hands　and　washed　them　in　the　warmth。



Then　his　gaze　fell　on　the　dog；　and　the　old　light　blazed　back　in　his

eyes。　　He　touched　the　missionary　lightly　on　the　arm。　　〃Mon　pere；

dat　is　one　beeg　devil；　dat　Batard。　　You　will　bring　me　one　pistol；

so；　dat　Ah　drink　de　sun　in　peace。〃



And　thenceforth　for　many　days　he　sat　in　the　sun　before　the　cabin

door。　　He　never　dozed；　and　the　pistol　lay　always　across　his　knees。

Batard　had　a　way；　the　first　thing　each　day；　of　looking　for　the

weapon　in　its　wonted　place。　　At　sight　of　it　he　would　lift　his　lip

faintly　in　token　that　he　understood；　and　Leclere　would　lift　his　own

lip　in　an　answering　grin。　　One　day　the　missionary　took　note　of　the

trick。



〃Bless　me！〃　he　said。　　〃I　really　believe　the　brute　comprehends。〃



Leclere　laughed　softly。　　〃Look　you；　mon　pere。　　Dat　w'at　Ah　now

spik；　to　dat　does　he　lissen。〃



As　if　in　confirmation；　Batard　just　perceptibly　wriggled　his　lone

ear　up　to　catch　the　sound。



〃Ah　say　'keel'。〃



Batard　growled　deep　down　in　his　throat；　the　hair　bristled　along　his

neck；　and　every　muscle　went　tense　and　expectant。



〃Ah　lift　de　gun；　so；　like　dat。〃　　And　suiting　action　to　word；　he

sighted　the　pistol　at　Batard。　　Batard；　with　a　single　leap；

sideways；　landed　around　the　corner　of　the　cabin　out　of　sight。



〃Bless　me！〃　he　repeated　at　intervals。　　Leclere　grinned　proudly。



〃But　why　does　he　not　run　away？〃



The　Frenchman's　shoulders　went　up　in　the　racial　shrug　that　means

all　things　from　total　ignorance　to　infinite　understanding。



〃Then　why　do　you　not　kill　him？〃



Again　the　shoulders　went　up。



〃Mon　pere；〃　he　said　after　a　pause；　〃de　taim　is　not　yet。　　He　is　one

beeg　devil。　　Some　taim　Ah　break　heem；　so　an'　so；　all　to　leetle

bits。　　Hey？　some　taim。　　BON！〃



A　day　came　when　Leclere　gathered　his　dogs　together　and　floated　down

in　a　bateau　to　Forty　Mile；　and　on　to　the　Porcupine；　where　he　took　a

commission　from　the　P。　C。　Company；　and　went　exploring　for　the

better　part　of　a　year。　　After　that　he　poled　up　the　Koyokuk　to

deserted　Arctic　City；　and　later　came　drifting　back；　from　camp　to


camp；　along　the　Yukon。　　And　during　the　long　months　Batard　was　well

lessoned。　　He　learned　many　tortures；　and；　notably；　the　torture　of

hunger；　the　torture　of　thirst；　the　torture　of　fire；　and；　worst　of

all；　the　torture　of　music。



Like　the　rest　of　his　kind；　he　did　not　enjoy　music。　　It　gave　him

exquisite　anguish；　racking　him　nerve　by　nerve；　and　ripping　apart

every　fibre　of　his　being。　　It　made　him　howl；　long　and　wolf…life；　as

when　the　wolves　bay　the　stars　on　frosty　nights。　　He　could　not　help

howling。　　It　was　his　one　weakness　in　the　contest　with　Leclere；　and

it　was　his　shame。　　Leclere；　on　the　other　hand；　passionately　loved

musicas　passionately　as　he　loved　strong　drink。　　And　when　his　soul

clamoured　for　expression；　it　usually　uttered　itself　in　one　or　the

other　of　the　two　ways；　and　more　usually　in　both　ways。　　And　when　he

had　drunk；　his　brain　a…lilt　with　unsung　song　and　the　devil　in　him

aroused　and　rampant；　his　soul　found　its　supreme　utterance　in

torturing　Batard。



〃Now　we　will　haf　a　leetle　museek；〃　he　would　say。　　〃Eh？　　W'at　you

t'ink；　Batard？〃



It　was　only　an　old　and　battered　harmonica；　tenderly　treasured　and

patiently　repaired；　but　it　was　the　best　that　money　could　buy；　and

out　of　its　silver　reeds　he　drew　weird　vagrant　airs　that　men　had

never　heard　before。　　Then　Batard；　dumb　of　throat；　with　teeth　tight

clenched；　would　back　away；　inch　by　inch；　to　the　farthest　cabin

corner。　　And　Leclere；　playing；　playing；　a　stout　club　tucked　under

his　arm；　followed　the　animal　up；　inch　by　inch；　step　by　step；　till

there　was　no　further　retreat。



At　first　Batard　would　crowd　himself　into　the　smallest　possible

space；　grovelling　close　to　the　floor；　but　as　the　music　came　nearer

and　nearer；　he　was　forced　to　uprear；　his　back　jammed　into　the　logs；

his　fore　legs　fanning　the　air　as　though　to　beat　off　the　rippling

waves　of　sound。　　He　still　kept　his　teeth　together；　but　severe

muscular　contractions　attacked　his　body；　strange　twitchings　and

jerkings；　till　he　was　all　a…quiver　and　writhing　in　silent　torment。

As　he　lost　control；　his　jaws　spasmodically　wrenched　apart；　and　deep

throaty　vibrations　issued　forth；　too　low　in　the　register　of　sound

for　human　ear　to　catch。　　And　then；　nostrils　distended；　eyes

dilated；　hair　bristling　in　helpless　rage；　arose　the　long　wolf　howl。

It　came　with　a　slurring　rush　upwards；　swelling　to　a　great　heart…

breaking　burst　of　sound；　and　dying　away　in　sadly　cadenced　woethen

the　next　rush　upward；　octave　upon　octave；　the　bursting　heart；　and

the　infinite　sorrow　and　misery；　fainting；　fading；　falling；　and

dying　slowly　away。



It　was　fit　for　hell。　　And　Leclere；　with　fiendish　ken；　seemed　to

divine　each　particular　nerve　and　heartstring；　and　with　long　wails

and　tremblings　and　sobbing　minors　to　make　it　yield　up　its　last

shred　of　grief。　　It　was　frightful；　and　for　twenty…four　hours　after；

Batard　was　nervous　and　unstrung；　starting　at　common　sounds；

tripping　over　his　own　shadow；　but；　withal；　vicious　and　masterful

with　his　team…mates。　　Nor　did　he　show　signs　of　a　breaking　spirit。

Rather　did　he　grow　more　grim　and　taciturn；　biding　his　time　with　an

inscrutable　patience　that　began　to　puzzle　and　weigh　upon　Leclere。

The　dog　would　lie　in　the　firelight；　motionless；　for　hours；　gazing

straight　before　him　at　Leclere；　and　hating　him　with　his　bitter

eyes。



Often　the　man　felt　that　he　had　bucked　against　the　very　essence　of

lifethe　unconquerable　essence　that　swept　the　hawk　down　out　of　the

sky　like　a　feathered　thunderbolt；　that　drove　the　great　grey　goose

across　the　zones；　that　hurled　the　spawning　salmon　through　two

thousand　miles　of　boiling　Yukon　flood。　　At　such　times　he　felt

impelled　toexpress　his　own　unconquerable　essence；　and　with　strong

drink；　wild　music；　and　Batard；　he　indulged　in　vast　orgies；　wherein

he　pitted　his　puny　strength　in　the　face　of　things；　and　challenged

all　that　was；　and　had　been；　and　was　yet　to　be。



〃Dere　is　somet'ing　dere；〃　he　affirmed；　when　the　rhythmed　vagaries

of　his　mind　touched　the　secret　chords　of　Batard's　being　and　brought

forth　the　long　lugubrious　howl。　　〃Ah　pool　eet　out　wid　bot'　my

han's；　so；　an'　so。　　Ha！　ha！　　Eet　is　fonee！　　Eet　is　ver'　fonee！　　De

priest　chant；　de　womans　pray；　de　mans　swear；　de　leetle　bird　go

peep…peep；　Batard；　heem　go　yow…yowan'　eet　is　all　de　ver'　same

t'ing。　　Ha！　ha！〃



Father　Gautier；　a　worthy　priest；　one　reproved　him　with　instances　of

concrete　perdition。　　He　never　reproved　him　again。



〃Eet　may　be　so；　mon　pere；〃　he　made　answer。　　〃An'　Ah　t'ink　Ah　go

troo　hell　a…snappin'；　lak　de　hemlock　troo　de　fire。　　Eh；　mon　pere？〃



But　all　bad　things　come　to　an　end　as　well　as　good；　and　so　with

Black　Leclere。　　On　the　summer　low　water；　in　a　poling　boat；　he　left

McDougall　for　Sunrise。　　He　left　McDougall　in　company　with　Timothy

Brown；　and　arrived　at　Sunrise　by　himself。　　Further；　it　was　known

that　they　had　quarrelled　just　previous　to　pulling　out；　for　the

Lizzie；　a　wheezy　ten…ton　stern…wheeler；　twenty…four　hours　behind；

beat　Leclere　in　by　three　days。　　And　when　he　did　get　in；　it　was　with

a　clean…drilled　bullet…hole　through　his　shoulder　muscle；　and　a　tale

of　ambush　and　murder。



A　strike　had　been　made　at　Sunrise；　and　things　had　changed

considerably。　　With　the　infusion　of　several　hundred　gold…seekers；　a

deal　of　whisky；　and　half…a…dozen　equipped　gamblers；　the　missionary

had　seen　the　page　of　his　years　of　labour　with　the　Indians　wiped

clean。　　When　the　squaws　became　preoccupied　with　cooking　beans　and

keeping　the　fire　going　for　the　wifeless　miners；　and　the　bucks　with

swapping　their　warm　furs　for　black　bottles　and　broken　time…pieces；

he　took　to　his　bed；　said　〃Bless　me〃　several　times；　and　departed　to

his　final　accounting　in　a　rough…hewn；　oblong　box。　　Whereupon　the

gamblers　moved　their　roulette　and　faro　tables　into　the　mission

house；　and　the　click　of　chips　and　clink　of　glasses　went　up　from

dawn　till　dark　and　to　dawn　again。



Now　Timothy　Brown　was　well　beloved　among　these　adventurers　of　the

North。　　The　one　thing　against　him　was　his　quick　temper　and　ready

fista　little　thing；　for　which　his　kind　heart　and　forgiving　hand

more　than　atoned。　　On　the　other　hand；　there　was　nothing　to　atone

for　Black　Leclere。　　He　was　〃black；〃　as　more　than　one　remembered

deed　bore　witness；　while　he　was　as　well　hated　as　the　other　was

beloved。　　So　the　men　of　Sunrise　put　an　antiseptic　dressing　on　his

shoulder　and　haled　him　before　Judge　Lynch。



It　was　a　simple　affair。　　He　had　quarrelled　with　Timothy　Brown　at

McDougall。　　With　Timothy　Brown　he　had　left　McDougall。　　Without

Timothy　Brown　he　had　arrived　at　Sunrise。　　Considered　in　the　light

of　his　evilness；