smoke bellew(史沫克·贝罗)-第15节
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stampeders。
〃Hike along； you； Smoke；〃 the other urged。 〃Walk over them
unburied dead。 This ain't no funeral。 Hit the frost like you was goin'
somewheres。〃
Smoke counted eight men and two women in this party； and before the
way across the jam…ice was won； he and Shorty had passed another party
twenty strong。 Within a few feet of the west bank； the trail swerved to
the south； emerging from the jam upon smooth ice。 The ice； however；
was buried under several feet of fine snow。 Through this the sled…trail
ran； a narrow ribbon of packed footing barely two feet in width。 On
either side one sank to his knees and deeper in the snow。 The stampeders
they overtook were reluctant to give way； and often Smoke and Shorty had
to plunge into the deep snow； and by supreme efforts flounder past。
Shorty was irrepressible and pessimistic。 When the stampeders
resented being passed； he retorted in kind。
〃What's your hurry？〃 one of them asked。
〃What's yours？〃 he answered。 〃A stampede come down from Indian
River yesterday afternoon an' beat you to it。 They ain't no claims left。〃
〃That being so； I repeat； what's your hurry？〃
〃WHO？ Me？ I ain't no stampeder。 I'm workin' for the
government。 I'm on official business。 I'm just traipsin' along to take the
census of Squaw Creek。〃
To another； who hailed him with： 〃Where away； little one？ Do you
really expect to stake a claim？〃 Shorty answered：
〃Me？ I'm the discoverer of Squaw Creek。 I'm just comin' back
from recordin' so as to see no blamed chechaquo jumps my claim。〃
The average pace of the stampeders on the smooth going was three
miles and a half an hour。 Smoke and Shorty were doing four and a half；
though sometimes they broke into short runs and went faster。
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〃I'm going to travel your feet clean off； Shorty；〃 Smoke challenged。
〃Huh！ I can hike along on the stumps an' wear the heels off your
moccasins。 Though it ain't no use。 I've ben figgerin'。 Creek claims is
five hundred feet。 Call 'em ten to the mile。 They's a thousand
stampeders ahead of us； an' that creek ain't no hundred miles long。
Somebody's goin' to get left； an' it makes a noise like you an' me。〃
Before replying； Smoke let out an unexpected link that threw Shorty
half a dozen feet in the rear。
〃If you saved your breath and kept up； we'd cut down a few of that
thousand；〃 he chided。
〃Who？ Me？ If you's get outa the way I'd show you a pace what is。〃
Smoke laughed； and let out another link。 The whole aspect of the
adventure had changed。 Through his brain was running a phrase of the
mad philosopher〃the transvaluation of values。〃 In truth； he was less
interested in staking a fortune than in beating Shorty。 After all； he
concluded； it wasn't the reward of the game but the playing of it that
counted。 Mind； and muscle； and stamina； and soul； were challenged in a
contest with this Shorty； a man who had never opened the books； and who
did not know grand opera from rag… time； nor an epic from a chilblain。
〃Shorty； I've got you skinned to death。 I've reconstructed every cell
in my body since I hit the beach at Dyea。 My flesh is as stringy as
whipcords； and as bitter and mean as the bite of a rattlesnake。 A few
months ago I'd have patted myself on the back to write such words； but I
couldn't have written them。 I had to live them first； and now that I'm
living them there's no need to write them。 I'm the real； bitter； stinging
goods； and no scrub of a mountaineer can put anything over on me without
getting it back compound。 Now； you go ahead and set pace for half an
hour。 Do your worst； and when you're all in I'll go ahead and give you
half an hour of the real worst。〃
〃Huh！〃 Shorty sneered genially。 〃An' him not dry behind the ears yet。
Get outa the way an' let your father show you some goin'。〃
Half…hour by half…hour they alternated in setting pace。 Nor did they
talk much。 Their exertions kept them warm； though their breath froze on
their faces from lips to chin。 So intense was the cold that they almost
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continually rubbed their noses and cheeks with their mittens。 A few
minutes cessation from this allowed the flesh to grow numb； and then
most vigorous rubbing was required to produce the burning prickle of
returning circulation。
Often they thought they had reached the lead； but always they
overtook more stampeders who had started before them。 Occasionally；
groups of men attempted to swing in behind to their pace； but invariably
they were discouraged after a mile or two； and disappeared in the darkness
to the rear。
〃We've been out on trail all winter；〃 was Shorty's comment。 〃An'
them geezers； soft from laying around their cabins； has the nerve to think
they can keep our stride。 Now； if they was real sour…doughs it'd be
different。 If there's one thing a sour…dough can do it's sure walk。〃
Once； Smoke lighted a match and glanced at his watch。 He never
repeated it； for so quick was the bite of the frost on his bared hands； that
half an hour passed before they were again comfortable。
〃Four o'clock；〃 he said； as he pulled on his mittens； 〃and we've already
passed three hundred。〃
〃Three hundred and thirty…eight；〃 Shorty corrected。 〃I ben keepin'
count。 Get outa the way； stranger。 Let somebody stampede that knows
how to stampede。〃
The latter was addressed to a man； evidently exhausted； who could no
more than stumble along； and who blocked the trail。 This； and one other；
were the only played…out men they encountered； for they were very near to
the head of the stampede。 Nor did they learn till afterwards the horrors
of that night。 Exhausted men sat down to rest by the way； and failed to
get up。 Seven were frozen to death； while scores of amputations of toes；
feet； and fingers were performed in the Dawson hospitals on the survivors。
For of all nights for a stampede； the one to Squaw Creek occurred on the
coldest night of the year。 Before morning； the spirit thermometers at
Dawson registered seventy degrees below zero。 The men composing the
stampede； with few exceptions； were new…comers in the country who did
not know the way of the cold。
The other played…out man they found a few minutes later； revealed by
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a streamer of aurora borealis that shot like a searchlight from horizon to
zenith。 He was sitting on a piece of ice beside the trail。
〃Hop along； sister Mary；〃 Shorty gaily greeted him。 〃Keep movin'。 If
you sit there you'll freeze stiff。〃
The man made no response； and they stopped to investigate。
〃Stiff as a poker；〃 was Shorty's verdict。 〃If you tumbled him over
he'd break。〃
〃See if he's breathing；〃 Smoke said； as； with bared hands； he sought
through furs and woollens for the man's heart。
Shorty lifted one ear…flap and bent to the iced lips。
〃Nary breathe；〃 he reported。
〃Nor heart…beat；〃 said Smoke。
He mittened his hand and beat it violently for a minute before
exposing it to the frost to strike a match。 It was an old man；
incontestably dead。 In the moment of illumination； they saw a long grey
beard； massed with ice to the nose； cheeks that were white with frost； and
closed eyes with frost…rimmed lashes frozen together。 Then the match went
out。
〃Come on；〃 Shorty said； rubbing his ear。 〃We can't do nothing for the
old geezer。 An' I'
