As to Will’s knee, that was really a serious matter, and he would probably suffer more or less with it to his dying day. This was appalling1 to poor Will, who was so fond of physical exertion2, but he bore it as bravely as he could.
As for the cuts made by the flying pieces, the surgeon regarded them with unutterable disdain3. “A schoolboy,” he said, “would chuckle4 over such hurts, and make the most of them while they lasted; but he wouldn’t degrade[383] himself by bellowing—unless his sister happened to dress them with vitriol. But if a piece had entered an eye, now, there would have been a tale to tell.”
And yet those hurts, slight as they were, had frightened Will so much that he had injured himself for life.
After all their wounds had been dressed, the Nimrods wended their way back to their humble5 cabin, still carrying Will, of course. As they went along they naturally conversed6. Seeing that it is their last conversation, we deliberately7 inflict8 the whole of it on the hapless reader. However, the hapless reader cannot be forced to read it all.
“Let us have a little light on the subject, as the bloody-minded king said when he dropped a blazing lucifer on the head of a disorderly noble of his,” Steve observed, as they left the surgeon’s.
“What are you driving at now, Steve?” Charles inquired.
“The confession9 made by Monk10, if Mr. Lawrence has no objections.”
“Certainly;” said uncle Dick. “Henry, you can give it better than I can; do so.”
“I wish, with all my heart, that I had taken it down,” said Henry, “for I consider it the best thing I ever heard. That man is a born romancer; but he wasted his talents keeping the records of his hospital, and afterwards dodging11 the ‘minions’ and his own conscience. However, I’ll give it as well as I can.”
The six, who had not heard it, listened attentively—even Will ceased to moan, in his eagerness to hear every word.
“What an extraordinary story!” cried Steve. “I hope he didn’t devise it for our amusement, as he devised his fiction about the small-pox!” he added grimly.
“Oh, he was very solemn about it,” Henry asserted.
“Didn’t Mr. Lawrence get back any of his lost fortune?” Marmaduke asked. “Surely he should have! Why, there is no moral at all in such a story as that!”
“Even so, Marmaduke; Hiram Monk made a grave mistake when he suffered the remainder of the fortune[384] to be ingulfed in the ‘muddy waters’ of the Mississippi. He should have swelled12 it to millions, and then buried it near the first parallel of latitude13, so many degrees northeast by southwest. When he confessed to Mr. Lawrence to-day, he should have given him a chart of the hiding-place, and in three months from this date we should have set out on the war-trail. After having annihilated14 several boat-loads of cannibals, and scuttled15 a pirate or so by way of recreation, we should have found the treasure just ten minutes after somebody else had lugged16 it off. But of course we should have come up with this somebody, had a sharp struggle, and lugged off the treasure in our turn. Then we should have returned, worth seven millions, a tame native, and an ugly monkey, apiece. But, alas17! I don’t take kindly18 to that kind of romance any more, Marmaduke; I don’t pine to shed the blood of villains19, cannibals, and pirates.”
So spoke20 Charles. A few hours before, and Steve would have said it, or something like it; but now Steve was looking very grave, and seemed already to pounce21 on Charles for speaking so.
“Charley,” he growled22, “you talk as if we read Dime23 Novels; and I’m sure I don’t, if you do.”
Charley winced24, but could not hit upon a cutting retort.
“What Charley says is very good,” Marmaduke, unmoved, replied; “but I don’t see why a whole fortune should be utterly25 lost, nor why Mr. Lawrence should spend ten years in idleness without some compensation. I hope you haven’t let Monk escape!” he cried, turning to Henry with such genuine alarm that the whole party broke into a laugh.
Even Steve forgot himself and joined in the laugh, Marmaduke’s expression of horror being so very ludicrous.
But he checked himself in a moment, and turned fiercely upon Charles: “Charles Growler, I am astonished at you! We do not know Marmaduke’s thoughts; we cannot judge him by ourselves. By nature, he is of a finer organism than we, and he sees things in a different[385] light. Some day, when he is a poet among poets, he will hold us poor shallow creatures up to ridicule26 in some majestic27 and spirit-stirring satire28.”
Stephen was in earnest now, but the others were not accustomed to this sort of thing from him, and thinking he meant to be only unusually sarcastic29, their laughter broke forth30 again; and while Charles laughed uproariously, Henry said severely31—so severely that Steve was almost desperate: “You ought not to be so personal in your remarks; you ought to have a little respect for another’s feelings.”
Marmaduke remembered the promise Stephen had made on the log, and he now looked at him reproachfully, thinking, with the rest, that Steve was jeering32 at him.
Poor misunderstood boy! He knew not how to explain himself. This was the first time he had had occasion to play the champion to Marmaduke, and he was making an egregious33 fool of himself.
“Oh, you stupid fellows!” he roared. “I’m taking his part; and I mean to take it after this, for he is the best fellow in the world.”
“I’m glad to hear you say so,” Henry said heartily34. “As for Hiram Monk, like all worn out villains, he is anxious that the Law should care for him; and the officer who secured Jim Horniss will secure him, also. As for the confession, let us make the most of it as it is; for we can’t make it either better or worse if we stay here till we shoot another deer.”
“Well, boys, what about going home?” George asked.
“If you are ready to go, I’m morally certain I am,” said Steve.
Now that the subject was broached35, the others were willing to acknowledge that they had had enough of hunting, and would gladly go home. Charles, however, thought it would be more decorous to offer some plausible36 excuse for returning so quickly, and so he said, “Yes, boys, I must go immediately; I have business that calls me home imperatively37.”
“‘Business?’ What ‘business?’” Steve asked in great perplexity.
[386]
He knew that Charley did not yet earn his own living at home; he knew, also, that Charley was not learning to play on the violin; hence his curiosity.
Charles was not prepared for such a question. He wanted, actually, craved38 for, a glass of lemonade and one of his mother’s pumpkin39 pies; but this seemed so flimsy an excuse that he hesitated to say so. He stammered40; his cheeks flushed; and at last he said, desperately41, “Well, boys, I should like to see how these cuts look in the mirror!”
Will, who shrewdly suspected what Charles was thinking of, said softly, in French—which he understood better now than he did six years before—with a faint attempt at a smile, “And in the eyes of that dear little girl.”
“This is a great change in our plans,” Henry observed. “We intended to stay three weeks; and now, at the end of three days, we are disgusted and homesick.”
It was evident that Steve had something on his mind, and he now asked, inquisitively42: “Should you like to go home, Henry?”
“Stephen, I am going home immediately—even if Will and I have to go alone.”
Stephen was about to make a sententious observation; but he checked himself abruptly43, and his voice died away in one long, guttural, and untranslatable interjection.
The day before, Stephen had come upon Henry alone in the depths of the forest, leaning against a tree, and whistling as though his heart would break—whistling passionately44, yet tenderly—whistling as only a lover can whistle a love-song. Yet it was not a love-song that Henry was whistling, but a piece of instrumental music,—“La Fille de Madame Angot,” by Charles Godfrey,—the first piece that, some three or four years before, he had ever heard his blue-eyed sweetheart play; and the last piece that, in memory of those old days, she had played for him before he set out to go hunting.
Steve had stolen softly away, feeling that the person who could whistle that waltz as Henry whistled it, did not wish to be disturbed. He now refrained from making his observation, and said to himself: “Well, now, I[387] feel just about as happy as if I had said what I wanted to say! Only, it was so good!”
“Of course; that’s just what we should have thought of first,” said Charles, beginning where Henry left off. “Will must be taken home this very night—that is, a start for home must be made this very night. We will go with him, of course; for we don’t want to stay and hunt alone.”
“Of course,” chorused the others, not wishing to hunt “alone.”
“Shall we buy some deer of regular hunters?” Jim meekly45 suggested. “Every one will laugh at us if we go home without even a bird.”
Steve answered him: “No! If we can’t shoot a deer to take home, we had better go empty-handed. And besides, we can buy deer nearer home than this. As for birds, I didn’t know that amateur hunters take home birds as an evidence of their skill—unless they happen to shoot an eagle. As for the laugh, why, I tell you, we shall be worshipped as wounded heroes!”
“Perhaps, as stupid blunderers!” George said, testily46.
For the first time, George’s whole skin troubled him. He had not received even a scratch; while all the others had some hurt, bruise47, or mark, as a memento48 of this hunt. Even Jim had not escaped, a vicious hornet having inhumanly49 stung his nose.
They were now drawing near the place where they supposed their cabin stood. But everything seemed strange—very strange.
“Are we lost again?” was the cry that burst from Will’s lips.
“Not lost, but burnt out!” Steve exclaimed. “Yes, boys, we are burnt out of house and home! Now, in such a case, who is going to stay here and hunt? Why, our bitterest enemies wouldn’t expect it of us! Hurrah50! But,” he added, gravely, “I’m afraid I’m reconciled to this disaster!”
“I think we all are,” Charles said, with a hideous51 grin.
“Now, I want to know how and why that shanty52 caught fire?” Will ejaculated.
[388]
By this time the hunters had reached the spot lately occupied by their cabin, and they now stood around the pile of still smoking ruins, with probably “mingled emotions.”
“You cooked the few morsels53 we had for breakfast, Will; therefore you ought to be responsible for this,” Henry observed.
“O—h!” groaned54 Will, “so I am! I didn’t put the fire entirely55 out this morning, and I forgot a box of matches on the hearth56—the homemade hearth. They have met!”
“At first I grieved that our hovel was so small,” said Charles; “but now I’m glad it was, or else the fire might have gone into the forest.”
“And burnt us alive!” Steve said, with a shudder57. Then he left Marmaduke, bent58 over the sufferer on the litter, and whispered in his ear: “Will, as soon as ever we reach home, I intend to deliver you over to Mr. B. F. Stolz!”
Having discharged this horrible threat, Steve returned to Marmaduke, muttering: “A hunter has no business to build a shanty to live in; he ought to pitch a tent, if it’s nothing but a parasol on a fish-pole.”
“What about this fellow’s bumps?” chuckles59 the reader.
It is very ungracious in the reader, after all our kindness towards him, to throw out such insinuations, and we refuse to give him any other explanation or satisfaction than this: Will’s bumps were not so prominent as usual that day.
George now spoke. “Look here, boys; stop your foolishness and listen to me. Didn’t we leave some valuables in that building? Where are they now?”
“Oh!” gasped60 the others, in one breath.
“Where are they now?” George roared again.
As no one seemed to know, he continued: “Well, I’m going to look for the wreck61 of my fowling-piece.” And he set his feet together, and deliberately leaped into the midst of the smouldering ruins.
He alighted on his feet, but they gave way beneath him; he staggered, and then fell heavily, at full length.
[389]
The hunters were alarmed. Was he hurt?
“George!—George!” they shrieked62. “Oh, George!”
“Well, what’s the matter?” he growled, as he struggled to his feet.
“Oh, George, come out,” Charles pleaded. “You must be hurt.”
“Am I?” George cried, wildly, hopefully. “Am I hurt, I say?”
“You will probably have a black eye,” Mr. Lawrence sorrowfully observed, as the explorer emerged from the cinders63.
“Am I much bruised64?” he asked, turning to Stephen, certain that that worthy65 would do him justice. “Am I, Steve? I don’t feel hurt or bruised a bit.”
Quick-witted Steve saw what was going on in the questioner’s mind, and replied, promptly66: “Bruised? Why, you’re a frightful67 object—a vagabond scare-crow! You must be wounded from your Scotch68 cap to the toe of your left boot. You’ve secured not only an exceedingly black eye, but also a swelled cheek, a protuberant69 forehead, a stiff neck, a singed70 chin, a sprained71 wrist, and, for all I know, a cracked skull72! Why, George, you’re a total wreck! The folks at home will think that we took you for some wild beast, and that each of us fired at you and hit you.”
The Sage73 turned away with a happy smile on his lips.
“Surely,” he soliloquised, “Steve wouldn’t go so far if there isn’t something wrong. But I hope there is no danger of a black eye!”
Then aloud, and cheerfully: “Yes, boys, let us go home.”
Do not imagine, gentle reader, that this hunter fell purposely. He was not so foolish as that; but when he did have a fall, he wished to profit by it. Still, he could see neither romance nor poetry in gaining nothing but a black eye.
It is worse than useless to prolong their conversation, so here it closes.
The hunters felt somewhat crest-fallen when they found that the fire had consumed almost everything left[390] in the cabin. However, they packed their remaining effects in some new boxes, and then set out for home in pretty good spirits. They arrived safe, and were welcomed as wounded heroes, as Steve had foretold74.
For the consolation75 of those readers who have an antipathy76 to mutilated heroes, it may be stated that Stephen’s hurts healed, leaving no other bad effects than ugly scars.
For the consolation of conscientious77 readers, it may be stated that Hiram Monk and Jim Horniss were tried by law, and sentenced to the punishment they deserved. If a learned lawyer should be beguiled78 into reading this story, he might know what punishment those wretches79 deserved—he might even guess at what punishment they received.
But the majesty80 of the law is possessed81 of a fickle82 mind.
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1
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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annihilated
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| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
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scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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lugged
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| vt.用力拖拉（lug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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pounce
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| n.猛扑；v.猛扑，突然袭击，欣然同意 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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dime
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| n.（指美国、加拿大的钱币）一角 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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satire
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| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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egregious
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| adj.非常的，过分的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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broached
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| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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imperatively
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| adv.命令式地 | |
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craved
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| 渴望，热望( crave的过去式 )； 恳求，请求 | |
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pumpkin
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| n.南瓜 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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inquisitively
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| 过分好奇地； 好问地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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memento
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| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
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inhumanly
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| adv.无人情味地，残忍地 | |
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hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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morsels
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| n.一口( morsel的名词复数 )；（尤指食物）小块，碎屑 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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chuckles
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的名词复数 ) | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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64
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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69
protuberant
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| adj.突出的，隆起的 | |
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70
singed
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| v.浅表烧焦( singe的过去式和过去分词 )；（毛发）燎，烧焦尖端[边儿] | |
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71
sprained
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| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
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72
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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73
sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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74
foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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75
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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76
antipathy
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| n.憎恶；反感，引起反感的人或事物 | |
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77
conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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78
beguiled
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| v.欺骗( beguile的过去式和过去分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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79
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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80
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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81
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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82
fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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