the complete writings-4-第32节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



The　landlord　suggested　that　we　take　another　route；　stay　that　night　on　Caney　River　with　Big　Tom　Wilson；　only　eight　miles　from　Burnsville；　cross　Mount　Mitchell；　and　go　down　the　valley　of　the　Swannanoa　to　Asheville。　　He　represented　this　route　as　shorter　and　infinitely　more　picturesque。　　There　was　nothing　worth　seeing　on　the　Big　Ivy　way。　With　scarcely　a　moment's　reflection　and　while　the　horses　were　saddling；　we　decided　to　ride　to　Big　Tom　Wilson's。　　I　could　not　at　the　time　understand；　and　I　cannot　now；　why　the　Professor　consented。　　I　should　hardly　dare　yet　confess　to　my　fixed　purpose　to　ascend　Mount　Mitchell。　　It　was　equally　fixed　in　the　Professor's　mind　not　to　do　it。　We　had　not　discussed　it　much。　　But　it　is　safe　to　say　that　if　he　had　one　well…defined　purpose　on　this　trip；　it　was　not　to　climb　Mitchell。　〃Not；〃　as　he　put　it；

　　　　〃Not　mine　own　fears；　nor　the　prophetic　soul　　　　　　Of　the　wide　world　dreaming　on　things　to　come；〃

had　suggested　the　possibility　that　he　could　do　it。

But　at　the　moment　the　easiest　thing　to　do　seemed　to　be　to　ride　down　to　Wilson's。　　When　there　we　could　turn　across　country　to　the　Big　Ivy；　although；　said　the　landlord；　you　can　ride　over　Mitchell　just　as　easy　as　anywherea　lady　rode　plump　over　the　peak　of　it　last　week；　and　never　got　off　her　horse。　　You　are　not　obliged　to　go；　at　Big　Tom's；　you　can　go　any　way　you　please。

Besides；　Big　Tom　himself　weighed　in　the　scale　more　than　Mount　Mitchell；　and　not　to　see　him　was　to　miss　one　of　the　most　characteristic　productions　of　the　country；　the　typical　backwoodsman；　hunter；　guide。　　So　we　rode　down　Bolling　Creek；　through　a　pretty；　broken　country；　crossed　the　Caney　River；　and　followed　it　up　a　few　miles　to　Wilson's　plantation。　　There　are　little　intervales　along　the　river；　where　hay　is　cut　and　corn　grown；　but　the　region　is　not　much　cleared；　and　the　stock　browse　about　in　the　forest。　　Wilson　is　the　agent　of　the　New　York　owner　of　a　tract　of　some　thirteen　thousand　acres　of　forest；　including　the　greater　portion　of　Mount　Mitchell；　a　wilderness　well　stocked　with　bears　and　deer；　and　full　of　streams　abounding　in　trout。　　It　is　also　the　playground　of　the　rattlesnake。　With　all　these　attractions　Big　Tom's　life　is　made　lively　in　watching　game　poachers；　and　endeavoring　to　keep　out　the　foraging　cattle　of　the　few　neighbors。　　It　is　not　that　the　cattle　do　much　injury　in　the　forest；　but　the　looking　after　them　is　made　a　pretense　for　roaming　around；　and　the　roamers　are　liable　to　have　to　defend　themselves　against　the　deer；　or　their　curiosity　is　excited　about　the　bears；　and　lately　they　have　taken　to　exploding　powder　in　the　streams　to　kill　the　fish。

Big　Tom's　plantation　has　an　openwork　stable；　an　ill…put…together　frame　house；　with　two　rooms　and　a　kitchen；　and　a　veranda　in　front；　a　loft；　and　a　spring…house　in　the　rear。　　Chickens　and　other　animals　have　free　run　of　the　premises。　　Some　fish…rods　hung　in　the　porch；　and　hunter's　gear　depended　on　hooks　in　the　passage…way　to　the　kitchen。　In　one　room　were　three　beds；　in　the　other　two；　only　one　in　the　kitchen。　　On　the　porch　was　a　loom；　with　a　piece　of　cloth　in　process。　The　establishment　had　the　air　of　taking　care　of　itself。　　Neither　Big　Tom　nor　his　wife　was　at　home。　　Sunday　seemed　to　be　a　visiting　day；　and　the　travelers　had　met　many　parties　on　horseback。　　Mrs。　　Wilson　was　away　for　a　visit　of　a　day　or　two。　　One　of　the　sons；　who　was　lounging　on　the　veranda；　was　at　last　induced　to　put　up　the　horses；　a　very　old　woman；　who　mumbled　and　glared　at　the　visitors；　was　found　in　the　kitchen；　but　no　intelligible　response　could　be　got　out　of　her。　Presently　a　bright　little　girl；　the　housekeeper　in　charge；　appeared。　She　said　that　her　paw　had　gone　up　to　her　brother's　（her　brother　was　just　married　and　lived　up　the　river　in　the　house　where　Mr。　Murchison　stayed　when　he　was　here）　to　see　if　he　could　ketch　a　bear　that　had　been　rootin'　round　in　the　corn…field　the　night　before。　　She　expected　him　back　by　sundownby　dark　anyway。　　'Les　he'd　gone　after　the　bear；　and　then　you　could　n't　tell　when　he　would　come。

It　appeared　that　Big　Tom　was　a　thriving　man　in　the　matter　of　family。　More　boys　appeared。　　Only　one　was　married；　but　four　had　〃got　their　time。〃　　As　night　approached；　and　no　Wilson；　there　was　a　good　deal　of　lively　and　loud　conversation　about　the　stock　and　the　chores；　in　all　of　which　the　girl　took　a　leading　and　intelligent　part；　showing　a　willingness　to　do　her　share；　but　not　to　have　all　the　work　put　upon　her。　　It　was　time　to　go　down　the　road　and　hunt　up　the　cows；　the　mule　had　disappeared　and　must　be　found　before　dark；　a　couple　of　steers　hadn't　turned　up　since　the　day　before　yesterday；　and　in　the　midst　of　the　gentle　contention　as　to　whose　business　all　this　was；　there　was　an　alarm　of　cattle　in　the　corn…patch；　and　the　girl　started　off　on　a　run　in　that　direction。　　It　was　due　to　the　executive　ability　of　this　small　girl；　after　the　cows　had　been　milked　and　the　mule　chased　and　the　boys　properly　stirred　up；　that　we　had　supper。　　It　was　of　the　oilcloth；　iron　fork；　tin　spoon；　bacon；　hot　bread　and　honey　variety；　distinguished；　however；　from　all　meals　we　had　endured　or　enjoyed　before　by　the　introduction　of　fried　eggs　（as　the　breakfast　next　morning　was　by　the　presence　of　chicken）；　and　it　was　served　by　the　active　maid　with　right　hearty　good…will　and　genuine　hospitable　intent。

While　it　was　in　progress；　after　nine　o'clock；　Big　Tom　arrived；　and；　with　a　simple　greeting；　sat　down　and　attacked　the　supper　and　began　to　tell　about　the　bear。　　There　was　not　much　to　tell　except　that　he　hadn't　seen　the　bear；　and　that；　judged　by　his　tracks　and　his　sloshing　around；　he　must　be　a　big　one。　　But　a　trap　had　been　set　for　him；　and　he　judged　it　wouldn't　be　long　before　we　had　some　bear　meat。　　Big　Tom　Wilson；　as　he　is　known　all　over　this　part　of　the　State；　would　not　attract　attention　from　his　size。　　He　is　six　feet　and　two　inches　tall；　very　spare　and　muscular；　with　sandy　hair；　long　gray　beard；　and　honest　blue　eyes。　　He　has　a　reputation　for　great　strength　and　endurance；　a　man　of　native　simplicity　and　mild　manners。　　He　had　been　rather　expecting　us　from　what　Mr。　Murchison　wrote；　he　wrote　（his　son　had　read　out　the　letter）　that　Big　Tom　was　to　take　good　care　of　us；　and　anybody　that　Mr。　Murchison　sent　could　have　the　best　he'd　got。

Big　Tom　joined　us　in　our　room　after　supper。　　This　apartment；　with　two　mighty　feather…beds；　was　hung　about　with　all　manner　of　stuffy　family　clothes；　and　had　in　one　end　a　vast　cavern　for　a　fire。　　The　floor　was　uneven；　and　the　hearthstones　billowy。　　When　the　fire　was　lighted；　the　effect　of　the　bright　light　in　the　cavern　and　the　heavy　shadows　in　the　room　was　Rembrandtish。　　Big　Tom　sat　with　us　before　the　fire　and　told　bear　stories。　　Talk？　　Why；　it　was　not　the　least　effort。　　The　stream　flowed　on　without　a　ripple。　　〃Why；　the　old　man；〃　one　of　the　sons　confided　to　us　next　morning；　〃can　begin　and　talk　right　over　Mount　Mitchell　and　all　the　way　back；　and　never　make　a　break。〃　　Though　Big　Tom　had　waged　a　lifelong　warfare　with　the　bears；　and　taken　the　hide　off　at　least　a　hundred　of　them；　I　could　not　see　that　he　had　any　vindictive　feeling　towards　the　varmint；　but　simply　an　insatiable　love　of　killing　him；　and　he　regarded　him　in　that　half…humorous　light　in　which　the　bear　always　appears　to　those　who　study　him。　　As　to　deerhe　couldn't　tell　how　many　of　them　he　had　slain。　　But　Big　Tom　was　a　gentleman：　he　never　killed　deer　for　mere　sport。　　With　rattlesnakes；　now；　it　was　different。　　There　was　the　skin　of　one　hanging　upon　a　tree　by　the　route　we　would　take　in　the　morning；　a　buster；　he　skinned　him　yesterday。　　There　was　an　entire　absence；　of　braggadocio　in　Big　Tom's　talk；　but　somehow；　as　he　went　on；　his　backwoods　figure　loomed　larger　and　larger　in　our　imagination；　and　he　seemed　strangely　familiar。　　At　length　it　came　over　us　where　we　had　met　him　before。　　It　was　in　Cooper's　novels。　　He　was　the　Leather…Stocking　exactly。　　And　yet　he　was　an　original；　for　he　assured　us　that　he　had　never　read　the　Leather…Stocking　Tales。　　What　a　figure；　I　was　thinking；　he　must　have　made　in　the　late　war！　　Such　a　shot；　such　a　splendid　physique；　such　iron　endurance！　　I　almost　dreaded　to　hear　his　tales　of　the　havoc　he　had　wrought　on　the　Union　army。　　Yes；　he　was　in　the　war；　he　was　sixteen　months　in　the　Confederate　army；　this　Homeric　man。　　In　what　rank？〃　　Oh；　I　was　a　fifer！〃

But　hunting　and　war　did　not　by　any　means　occupy　the　whole　of　Big　Tom's　life。　　He　was　also　engaged　in　〃lawin'。〃　　He　had　a　long…time　feud　with　a　neighbor　about　a　piece　of　land　and　alleged　trespass；　and　they'd　been　〃lawin'〃　for　years；　with　no　definite　result；　but　as　a　topic　of　conversation　it　was　as　fully　illustrative　of　frontier　life　as　the　bear…fighting。

Long　after　we　had　all　gone　to　bed；　we　heard　Big　Tom's　continuous　voice；　through　the　thin　partition　that　separated　us　from　the　kitchen；　going　on　to　his　little　boy　about　the　bear；　every　circumstance　of　how　he　tracked　him；　and　what　corner　of　the　field　he　entered；　and　where　he　went　out；　and　his　probable　size　and　age；　and　the　prospect　of　his　coming　again；　these　were　the　details　of　real　everyday　life；　and　worthy　to　be　dwelt　on　by　the　hour。　　The　boy　was　never　tired　of　pursuing　them。　　And　Big　Tom　was　just　a　big　boy；　also；　in　his　delight　in　it　all。

Perhaps　it　was　the　fascination　of　Big　Tom；　perhaps　the　representation　that　we　were　already　way　of