Mark and I tried to sleep. I know I shut my eyes and pretended I was at home with father and mother in the next room. Somehow that didn’t do much good—I couldn’t pretend hard enough, I guess. Then I tried counting sheep jumping over a fence, but the sheep jumped so slow that I had time in between to figure what Batten would do to us if he caught us. I counted up to a thousand, and watched an imaginary wheel go round and round. But in spite of everything I could think of I was just as wide awake at the end as I was at the beginning.
Mark was perfectly5 still, and of course I didn’t know whether he was asleep or awake. Everything except Sammy was still, too still altogether for comfort. When things are so quiet you just have to listen. You can’t help it if it was to save your life; and I didn’t want to listen. Listening for something you don’t hear makes you shivery. I don’t know but that it was more scary than the night we sat up by the cave before we knew what Sammy was. I couldn’t help imagining a rattler was trying to climb the leg of my bed, and every snap of a twig6 or rustle7 of a leaf I turned into a man sneaking8 through the underbrush.
Besides, there was Sammy snoring for dear life. Just you get into a tight place like we were in and have the only person you can depend on start to snore! I tell you, you feel even lonesomer than if nobody was there at all. I was mad at Sammy, mad all the way through. It didn’t seem right that anybody should be comfortable and happy when I was so miserable9. Once I made up my mind to yell at Sam, but then I thought how hard he’d been working for us, and kept still.
After a while I couldn’t stand it any longer, though, so I raised my head and whispered, cautious, “Oh, Mark, are you awake?”
“Awake!” he says, cross-like. “If I was as sound asleep as I’m w-w-wide awake an earthquake wouldn’t rouse me.”
“Let’s talk,” says I; “it’ll seem more sociable10.”
We started in to talk, but there didn’t seem to be anything to talk about but snakes and Batten and Bill. The more you talk about things that scare you the more afraid you get, so our conversation wasn’t what you’d call a success. We both laid back and kept quiet.
I don’t know whether it was two hours or fifteen minutes after that when I sat up straight and listened. I thought I heard voices out on the river, and I sat there stiff, holding my breath, with chills running up and down my spine11 ten to the minute. For a while I didn’t hear another thing; then, up the river some place, something creaked. It isn’t natural to hear something creaking out on the water, for fish don’t creak, and neither does water. It’s surprising how few things there are that do creak that aren’t made by men. Just listen around and see. As soon as I heard that sound I knew it couldn’t be anything else but an oar-lock, and an oar-lock meant a rowboat, and a rowboat meant Batten and Bill. Nobody else would be poking12 around the river at that time of night.
“Mark,” I says, my voice trembling in spite of all I could do to keep it steady.
“Yes,” he answered, right off.
“Did you hear it?”
“Yes.”
“It must be Batten and Bill.”
“L-l-l-lookin’ for us!” he sputtered13.
“What’ll we do?”
“Sammy—wake Sammy.”
“Go and wake him,” says I, for I didn’t like to put my feet down on that ground for fear of stepping right in the middle of a rattler.
We didn’t dare call Sammy, for fear of being overheard; and it wasn’t safe to throw a stick at him, because he might wake up and holler. There was nothing for it but to take a chance with the snakes.
“Come on,” says I. But I didn’t trust my feet on the ground till I’d found my club. I took it and reached all around as far as I could, thumping14 the earth so if there were any rattlers hanging around they’d be scared away, or at least rattle1 so we’d know where they were. I didn’t hear anything, so I made up my mind it would be safe for a little ways at least.
We got down and made for Sammy as quietly as we could go. Sam lay with one arm over his head and the other across his face, and his mouth open wide enough to take in an apple. Mark tickled15 the palm of his hand, but Sammy only closed his fingers. Then I tapped him on the cheek. Sam just slapped at me like I was a mosquito. It was plain Sammy was a sound sleeper16.
There wasn’t anything left but to shake him good and hard, so Mark shook. As soon as he did he slapped his hand over Sammy’s mouth so he couldn’t holler, but that isn’t what Sam did at all. He just heaved himself onto his feet all at once and grabbed Mark with his big hands. He’d have broken him in two if I hadn’t spoken quick.
“Sammy,” says I, as sharp as I could, “it’s us—Mark and me.”
He came to in a minute and grinned at us sheepish-like.
“Sammy most bust18 fat boy,” he said. “Sammy wake up quick. Scairt. He grab—no find out who.”
“Hush,” whispers Mark. “There’s a boat a-comin’ down the river.”
“Batten come? Bill come? Eh?”
“I guess so. C-c-couldn’t be anybody else.”
“Sammy go see.” Off went Sammy as quiet as a fish in the water, leaving us all alone.
“Let’s stamp out what’s left of the fire,” says I.
It had burned almost out, but we trampled19 the coals, and when they were black we covered the place with brush so nobody’d know there had been any fire at all. Now it was as dark as if we were in somebody’s pocket, and mighty20 uncomfortable, I can tell you. Both of us made for our beds and sat on them with our feet pulled up, to wait for Sammy.
In no time he was back. I didn’t hear him coming, but all at once he was there. It was just as if he’d popped up out of the ground.
“Who is it?” Mark whispered.
“Batten and Bill,” says Sammy.
“Where are they?”
“In boat. Come along island slow, very slow. Look here, look there. Goin’ to land, Sammy think.”
It was a nice pickle21, wasn’t it? There were two grown men against a couple of kids and a queer-headed Indian. Of course, Sammy was so big he was a comfort, but, then, there was no telling what Batten and Bill would manage to do.
“Can we hide away from them, Sammy?” I wanted to know, and I wanted to know quick.
“Can’t hide if men hunt good. Try, maybe.”
“And we can’t hide the boat and the turbine,” says Mark. “They’d rather have the engine than us.”
That was a fact, all right. If the men took to searching the island they’d find my boat hauled up on the shore of the bayou, and they’d get back the turbine. All our work and trouble would be for nothing.
“We got to keep them from l-l-landing,” says Mark. He was so excited and anxious I thought he’d never get through stuttering over “landing.”
“Sammy throw men in river.” He grinned and shook his head and opened and shut his great big hands as though it would be quite a joke to give Batten and Bill a ducking.
But Mark didn’t want that; besides, he didn’t know if Sammy could manage both the men. What we wanted was to find some scheme that would keep the men from landing at all. I just sat still and waited, because Mark is the schemer of the party. I’m no good that way, and I knew if Mark couldn’t think up something there was no use for me to try.
“Sammy,” says Mark, “maybe you can do it.” He spoke17 slow, so as not to stutter. “There’s a chance of scarin’ ’em off.”
“Sammy do it. Sure. Sammy yell like panther, eh?”
“No, Sammy won’t yell like a panther. Sammy will keep quiet like a f-f-fish till I get through.”
Sammy showed his white teeth, and I could almost hear him purr. It tickled him all over every time Mark spoke to him, and it didn’t make any difference what he said, either.
“You got to pretend you’re a rattlesnake,” says Mark. “Go quiet as you can to the shore wherever they try to land. Hide so’s they can’t see you. Then as soon’s one of ’em puts a f-f-foot ashore22 you rattle. Understand?”
“Sammy know. To be sure. Sammy go kr-r-r-r-r-r.”
I jumped and looked around before I thought. It was the rattlesnakiest noise you ever heard.
“That’s it,” says Mark. “Now hurry!”
Mark stayed where he was because he couldn’t move very quiet. No matter how careful and still he tried to be, he would have sounded like a cow mired23 in a swamp. There are good things about being fat, but there are bad ones, too, and that was one of the bad ones. I went along with Sammy as far as I dared and then hid behind some bushes. Sammy crawled along to the very edge of the water and kept even with the boat, which had come into sight and was rowing along about twenty feet out. From where I was I could hear Batten and Bill talking to each other low and cautious.
“I’m not crazy to go ashore,” says Batten. “That island’s alive with snakes.”
“Bosh!” says Bill. “Who’s afraid of snakes?”
“You come from the city, or you wouldn’t be sticking up your nose at rattlers. I bet you never saw a rattler.”
“If I did see one I wouldn’t run away from it.”
“Um!” grunts24 Batten.
“There’s a chance they’re hiding there,” Bill went on, in a minute. “We went all around it and then down-stream without catching25 a glimpse of them. I believe they stopped off here and hid.”
“We’ll soon find out, anyhow,” Batten says, and turned the boat toward the shore. “You’re not afraid of snakes,” he says, sort of sneering26, “so you step out first. Don’t be afraid.”
I couldn’t see Sammy, but I could see Batten and Bill. A couple of strokes of the oars27 brought the boat up against the marshy28 shore. I could hear the keel grate against the bottom.
“Out you go,” says Batten, and Bill stood up and stepped ashore.
Then Sammy rattled29. “Kr-r-r-r-r-r,” he went. It sounded as if it was right under Bill’s feet. Well, sir, you should have seen Bill jump. He didn’t even wait to turn around, but just went up in the air backward and let out a yell as loud as a locomotive whistle. He landed one foot in the boat and the other in the water.
“No,” says Batten, and I bet he was grinning mean, “you wouldn’t run away from a snake, you wouldn’t. Oh no!”
“I most stepped on him,” Bill says, shaky-like. “When he struck he just missed my leg. I felt him.” Now, that shows you what a fellow’s imagination will do for him, especially if he’s startled.
“Try again,” Batten says. “He’s probably gone by now.”
“Try yourself if you want to. If you expect me to step on this confounded island you row to some other spot.”
They argued about it a while and then pushed off. When they started away Sammy followed after, and I went along, too. I was so interested I plumb30 forgot about snakes myself. They rowed about a hundred feet and then tried it again, but Sammy was there first. As soon as Bill put his foot on the ground away went that Kr-r-r-r-r-r, and back he scrambled31 into the boat.
“Must be alive with them,” he panted. “Hear that one?”
HE LET OUT A YELL AS LOUD AS A LOCOMOTIVE WHISTLE
“I heard him,” says Batten. “We’ll try another place.”
They tried again three times, but every time Sammy was there to rattle. At the last place Bill got mad at Batten and says: “This is a fool thing, prowling around this island. Nobody ever landed on it—there’s a snake under every blade of grass. If you want to go ashore, all right; but me, I’ll stay right in the boat, engine or no engine.”
“They do seem sort of thick,” Batten says; and he didn’t make any offer to go ashore himself. “We might as well go home. Tomorrow we can set out to look for them again.” He stopped a minute and says, “Changed your opinion of rattlesnakes, Bill?”
Bill just grunted32, and then they rowed off up the river and out of our sight.
We were pretty relieved, I tell you. After that we were sure the men wouldn’t bother us any more that night, so we went to bed again. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep, and I guess the others did, too. Anyhow, I didn’t know another thing till Sammy shook me next morning. It wasn’t light yet, but Mark was up and ready.
“They said they’d be lookin’ for us this m-m-mornin’,” he said, “so we better be stirrin’. It’s half past three now.”
The first thing to do was to haul out the boat and see how badly smashed it was, and to do that we had to take the turbine out on shore. Mark and I got big clubs and stood right by Sammy while Sammy worked. He killed one rattler with eight rattles2 on his tail the first thing, and between us we got three more before Sammy had the boat up and turned over. One plank33 was split and sprung out so that there was a big gap for the water to run through. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it might have been, and Sammy wasn’t any time fixing it up with the little ax. It wasn’t as good as new, by any means, but the water couldn’t leak in very fast. Mark figured he and I could bail34 while Sammy rowed, and so keep the thing afloat.
Mark was too anxious to get home with the turbine to bother about breakfast, so we started off, rowing and bailing35, and didn’t have any trouble to speak of. It was a fine bright morning, with the sun coming down so clean and shiny and light that it looked as if it was something being poured all over everything—something you could touch. I’ve seen lots of spring mornings like that, when the sunlight didn’t seem like sunlight at all, but as if it were a kind of dew that made every leaf and stone and the water, and even animals and folks, sort of glow. Mark was a great fellow for noticing things like that, even when he had worries on his mind, and he kept talking about it all the way down the river.
Along toward the last the boat commenced to leak pretty bad again. I guess it was the weight of the turbine pressing down on the weak board, so Mark decided36 to stop at the cave and hide the engine there while somebody went into town for a wagon37 to haul it in. It was a pretty hard pull getting it up on the hill and into the cave, but we managed it, and Mark and I were able to help with a rope that we had there. He and I went first with the rope and held the engine from slipping back when Sammy had to put it down to rest. We were pretty tired when the turbine was safe inside the cave, so we lay down and took a little rest.
“Sammy,” says Mark, “you stay here and guard the turbine while Tallow and I go to town for help. Don’t let anybody git it away from you.”
“Sammy watch. Nobody get machine.” He got a big club and whirled it around his head so it whistled. “Nobody take it away from Sammy, eh? Sammy guess not.”
Mark guessed not, too. He and Sammy and I walked to the road together, and Mark and I were just for starting off toward town when we saw a couple of men coming in a buggy. At first I thought it was Batten and Bill, but it wasn’t, and my heart went back where it belonged. We turned to Sammy to say good-by, but a more frightened fellow there never was. His eyes bulged38, and his knees sagged39, and he was muttering and shaking his head and pointing.
“After Sammy,” he chattered40. “Take him back to poor-farm. Make Sammy dig in fields. Make him sleep in house.” Then all of a sudden the idea of running popped into his head, and without so much as an “Aye,” “Yes,” or “No” to Mark he turned and scooted down the hill and out of sight.
Sure enough, when we took a good look at the men one of them was Mr. Grey, superintendent41 of the poor-farm; but it turned out they weren’t looking for anybody, but just driving home from the next town, where Mr. Grey had been on business.
That wasn’t any help to us, though, for it left us without Sammy just the same, and Sammy seemed to be pretty necessary. We felt we could leave the engine with him and it would be safe. He could guard the mouth of the cave sort of like Horatius at the bridge, and Batten and Bill would find it was close to impossible to chase him off. Now it looked as if either Mark or I would have to go to town, and that would leave just one boy on guard.
“It ain’t safe,” says I. “Sammy could have done it, but neither of us can alone. I wouldn’t even want to try it with both of us here.”
“Neither would I,” Mark answered. “But what are we going to do?”
“We might send word in by Mr. Grey,” I says. “He could send out help.”
The buggy was almost to us now, and without thinking how he might frighten the horse Mark stepped into the road and held up his hand. The horse snorted, jerked back, and then took the bit in his teeth and tore off as tight as he could go. Mark had to jump quicker than I ever saw him jump before to get out of the way.
It did seem as if luck was against us. We stood there a minute and looked after the rig, which was getting farther away every second.
“Let’s get back to the cave and see what there is to do,” I says.
Mark never said a word, but just started off with a discouraged hunch42 to his shoulders, and I trailed after. We sat down in front of the cave, tired, hungry, and pretty sick of the whole business.
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收听单词发音
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1
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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2
rattles
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| （使）发出格格的响声， （使）作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 )； 喋喋不休地说话； 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动，堕下或走动； 使紧张，使恐惧 | |
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doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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4
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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5
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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6
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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7
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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8
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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12
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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13
sputtered
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| v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的过去式和过去分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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14
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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15
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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16
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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17
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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18
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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19
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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20
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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21
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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23
mired
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| abbr.microreciprocal degree 迈尔德（色温单位）v.深陷( mire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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25
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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26
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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27
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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28
marshy
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| adj.沼泽的 | |
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29
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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31
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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32
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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33
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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34
bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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bailing
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| （凿井时用吊桶）排水 | |
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36
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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37
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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38
bulged
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| 凸出( bulge的过去式和过去分词 )； 充满； 塞满（某物） | |
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39
sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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40
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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41
superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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42
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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