“Hold on,” said Tom, “till I turn me money.”
“I’ve got fourpence,” replied Dave, drawing in his oar2 also; “I reckon I’ll turn it, too.”
And just at that moment a thought struck Tom.
“Good Lord!” he cried, “we’ve forgot all about them bags o’ sovereigns that was stole and hid.”
“I didn’t,” replied Dave; “I thought about ’em this mornin’, an’ I been thinkin’ about ’em all day, but we took a oath not to talk about it, didn’t we?”
“That wuz only about the—the—you know what wuz done,” replied Tom; “the money’s different; we kin3 talk about that.”
“Well, it’s hid,” said Dave.
“Yes; it’s hid again the myrtle tree.”
“I clean forgot till this mornin’, and then when you wuz talkin’ about pirate hoards4 I thought of it.”
“I never thought of it till now,” said Tom, passing his hand across his forehead in an anguished5 way.[74] “Seein’ that—that—you know the thing we ain’t got to talk about must a sent me ratty.”
“What are you goin’ to do about it?” asked Dave.
“I dunno,” replied Tom, doubtfully; “onless we go back there by night an’ dig it up.”
Dave shuddered6.
“I wouldn’t go near that place at night,” he said; “not for all the money in Australia.”
“Neither would I,” said Tom, “but I’d go an’ get it in the daylight.”
“We can’t go nosing round there in the daytime,” remarked Dave; “we might get ketched.”
“Well, if we don’t go an’ get it soon,” pronounced Tom, “it won’t be there long. That cove7 won’t leave it there. Soon as he’s ready to git away, he’ll go an’ dig it up. An’ he won’t stay round no longer than he kin help, you take yor oath.”
“It’s a bit rough,” said Dave, “after all we’ve went through.”
“Pirate’s luck,” sighed Tom. “It wuz always that way. Jist when a pirate wuz gettin’ up to a ship loaded chokker-block with gold-dust an’ dubloons an’ things, a gale8 of wind u’d come an’ she’d get away. Or supposin’ they’d bin9 firin’ their cannons10 an’ fightin’ ’er fer a whole day, she’d sink an’ take all er’ cargo11 down with ’er jist as they got alongside. It’s pirates’ luck, an’ you got to put up with it.”
“I dunno,” mused12 Dave; “we mightn’t get ketched if we was careful. Suppose we did go there in the daytime? We could sneak13 up near in the night, and camp in the scrub, an’ go acrost an’ get the sovereigns, and[75] wait till the next night to come down the river again.”
“You leave it to me,” said Tom, after some thought; “I’ll fix up a scheme. You can’t organise14 a piratin’ expedition like that in ten minutes. It wants thinkin’ out.”
The boat’s nose ran into the mud on the opposite side, and the boys landed.
Having climbed the bank they found themselves in a field of maize15.
Presently Dave stooped down and felt something with an affectionate touch.
“Melons!” he said in a glad, soft voice.
“Good shot!” ejaculated Tom; “we’ll load some into the boat, and take ’em acrost to the pirate’s camp. We’ll gammon they’re chests of gold and plate and ingots of silver.”
They loaded half a dozen large water melons into their pirate barque on this principle, and it added to their joy.
“That’ll do for the ballast,” said Tom, when the cargo was aboard. “Now, we’re got to go and make a raid for provisions.”
“How will we?” queried16 Dave.
“We’ll sneak up through this corn patch, and storm the fowlhouse,” said the older pirate grimly. “We got to get meat to eat.”
They approached the farmhouse18 cautiously, sneaking19 round between the tall rows of rustling20 maize till they located the chicken roost at the rear.
“You stay on watch,” whispered Tom, “an’ I’ll nick in an’ cop a couple o’ young hens. I’ll ketch ’em by[76] the necks so they can’t sing out. If you hear any noise, whistle three times loud an’ cut to the boat.”
The first mate hid behind the fence, and the pirate captain crept softly upon his prey21.
It was pretty dark inside the fowl17-shed and the feathered occupants stirred uneasily, and made some enquiring22 remarks, when Tom fell over a box which had been left for the hens to lay in. The chief pirate waited for the row to subside23, and then put out his hand quietly and grabbed a likely-looking rooster tightly by the neck.
The bird uttered a gutteral cry, which the adventurer stilled by revolving24 his quarry25 round on its own axis26 several times with great rapidity.
He was just preparing to commandeer further poultry27 when three shrill28 whistles echoed through the night, followed by the sound of voices and a noise of somebody running through the maize.
A second later, Tom, beating a retreat through the fowlhouse door, ran right into the arms of a burly figure.
A strong hand grabbed him by the collar, and a strong voice remarked, with vengeful satisfaction:
“I’ve ketched ye, ye varmint.”
Tom dropped the birds and endeavoured to wriggle29 out of his captor’s clutch.
“Lemme go,” he whined30; “I ain’t done nothink to you.”
“Ain’t you,” cried the enraged31 farmer; “ain’t done nothink, eh?”
[77]
“No,” replied Tom, endeavouring to kick the captor’s shins. “I wuz just comin’ up to the house to ask you about somethink.”
“An’ you thought you’d wring32 a couple of my fowls33’ necks an’ bring ’em with ye, to make you welcome.”
“I never wrung34 ’em,” replied the Pirate Captain.
“Well, I’m struck!” exclaimed the farmer; “after I ketched ye with a fowl in each hand.”
“I heard a noise in the fowlhouse,” said Tom, speciously35, “jist as I wuz comin’ along. I knowed it wuz a native cat after the fowls. So I went in——”
“An’ you found the cat ’ad killed two of ’em,” interrupted the farmer.
“Yes,” said Tom; “I did.”
“An’ you thought you’d bring ’em along an’ show ’em to me.”
“That’s jist what I did think.”
“So you picked ’em up, an’ wuz goin’ out when I stopped yer?”
“Yes, I wuz goin’ straight up to your house with ’em.”
“Maria!” cried the farmer, loudly; “fetch a lantern; I’ve ketched somethink!”
“What have you ketched, Jacob?” called back a woman’s voice from the kitchen of the farmhouse; “a tiger cat?”
“No!” hollered the farmer; “I’ve ketched the infernallest liar36 thet ever wuz on the Clarence River! I doubt if there’s sich another infernal liar in the world.”
The farmer’s wife, shading a candle with her hand, peered out into the dark.
[78]
“Where is it?” asked the woman, who was hard of hearing.
“It’s here! You needn’t be frightened, Maria; he can’t get away.”
“What is it, Jacob?” asked Maria, bringing the light carefully.
“I dunno rightly,” replied Jacob, “what breed it is; but I kin see it’s death on fowls.”
“How many has he took?”
“Two. One of ’em’s your best Spanish rooster!”
“Why didn’t you shoot the thing?” asked Maria.
“Fetch the light an’ I’ll show you,” cried Jacob, who was pleased with his catch. “This is where our laying hens an’ pullets has been goin’ lately.”
“Why,” exclaimed the woman, “it’s a man! No, it’s a boy!”
“Yes,” agreed the farmer, screwing Tom round to the light; “it’s a boy all right.”
“Ow!” yelled Tom. “Leggo, yer ’urtin’ me.”
“I’ll ’urt ye a dashed sight more afore I’m done with ye,” observed the farmer; “ye thievin’ young varmint.”
“I ain’t,” whined the chief pirate; “I ain’t a thief!”
“Poor child!” said the farmer’s wife. “Don’t hurt him, Jacob!—ah, don’t hurt him!”
“The varmint’s done his best to hurt me!” cried Jacob. “He kicked a few inches of bark off my shins!”
“Well,” howled Tom, “you nearly choked me!”
“Whose boy is he?” asked the farmer’s wife.
“He’s got a ugly face,” replied the burly farmer, holding Tom up to the candle light; “a ugly face that[79] a cove ought to know anywhere; but I don’t recognise ’im.”
“Do you think he really was at the fowls, Jacob?”
“I dunno,” replied Jacob, “what kinder evidence you’d want to prove it; but I ketched him with a Leghorn hen in one hand an’ yer Spanish rooster in the other, coming’ outer the fowlhouse, an’ I reckon that’s strong enough for me; I reckon it’s strong enough to ’ang the varmint on.”
“Whose boy are you?” asked the farmer’s wife. “Where do you come from?”
“I can’t speak,” growled37 Tom, “he’s chokin’ me.”
“Don’t hurt him, Jacob!” pleaded the good wife, in a sympathetic voice. “He’s only a child.”
“He’s a derned old-fashioned child,” observed the farmer, taking a fresh grip of his prize. “There, now, let’s hear what you got to say for yourself. Who are you? What is your name?”
“Robinson,” replied Tom, tearfully, “Will Robinson.”
“Robinson!” repeated the man. “There ain’t any Robinsons round here. Where did you come from?”
“I came from the Richmond,” replied Tom, readily.
“What were you doin’ up there?”
“Workin’ on a farm.”
“Has your people got a farm?”
“No; me father and mother’s dead.”
“You was with your relations, eh?”
“No; I got no relatives; I’m a orphan38.”
“Poor child!” cried the farmer’s wife softly. “Remember, Jacob, the Lord hasn’t blessed us.”
“Yes, I’m a orphan,” cried Tom, tearfully. “I got[80] no father an’ no mother, an’ nobody in the world. I wuz put to work for a cove up there milkin’ cows an’ pullin’ maize an’ ploughin’——”
“Ploughin’!” interrupted the farmer. “Mean to say he put you ploughin’?”
“Yes,” sobbed39 Tom; “an’ he treated me bad, too—uster knock me about an’ larrup me with a cartwhip. I never hardly got enough to eat—never—so I couldn’t stand it no longer, an’ I run away.”
“What was the cove’s name you was workin’ with?” asked the farmer.
“Smith,” said Tom, “Mr. Smith.”
“What Smith?”
“I dunno his other name,” replied the captured pirate, suspecting a trap; “I never heard ’im called anythink except Mister Smith.”
“Hum,” said the farmer. “An’ how long is it since you run away?”
“’Bout two weeks,” replied Tom. “I bin hidin’ in the bush so’s they wouldn’t ketch me. I didn’t want to be ketched an’ took back an’ knocked about. I’d a rather died. I nearly did die, too! I got starved—I’m starved now. I ain’t ’ad nothink to eat all day, nor yesterday ’ardly. I wouldn’t ’a come ’ere to take them fowls only I wuz ’ungry, an’ that’s the truth. I never stole nothink in me life before.”
“Poor child!” murmured the woman; “perhaps he couldn’t help it, Jacob.”
“Um,” said Jacob. “I thought you said it wuz a native cat arter the fowls?”
“Yes,” replied Tom; “I did say it.”
[81]
“An’ now you admit you did it?”
“Well, I wuz frightened, an’ I thought you wuz goin’ to whale me.”
“How were you goin’ to cook them chickens?”
“I wusn’t goin’ to cook ’em.”
“You wasn’t! What, then, goin’ to sell ’em?”
“No, I wuz goin’ to eat ’em raw!”
“My God, Jacob,” exclaimed the farmer’s wife, “the poor boy’s starving! Can’t you see the wolfish look in his eye?”
Tom glared and looked as famished40 as he could.
“Look ’ere,” cried the farmer, “where is this cove Smith’s place on the Richmond?”
“It’s about Lismore,” said Tom, readily, “at the beginning of the Big Scrub. Ain’t you ever been there?”
“No,” said the farmer, still keeping a firm grip of the pirate’s coat collar, “an’ I doubt if you ’ave either. How did you get down to Lismore?”
“Tramped it,” said Tom.
“How long did it take you?”
“’Bout two days.”
“Two days? What did you have to eat?”
“I got lilly-pillys outer the bush, an’ berries, an’ I uster pull corn cobs an’ roast ’em over a fire an’ uster get a drink of milk at the dairy farms in the mornin’.”
“Ah! Weren’t the police looking for you in Lismore?”
“I dunno. I never went into the town. I stayed in the scrub till it was dark an’ then I got acrost the bridge an’ sneaked41 on to a boat that wuz goin’ out to Sydney. I meant to go right down in ’er, but they found me out[82] an’ put me off at Woodburn, an’ I walked acrost an’ sneaked on the punt at Chatsworth, an’ kem on this side of the Clarence. I been prowlin’ about the bush ever since.”
“Why didn’t you go into the towns and look for work or something?”
“Because I wuz waitin’ for it to blow over. I thought my boss up there above Lismore might put an advertisement in the paper or set the police onter me.”
“Hum,” said the farmer. “It’s either a true bill, or your the cleverest voting liar outer gaol42 at the present moment.”
“I ain’t no liar,” protested the pirate: “I ain’t. An’ its true, every word.”
“Hum,” said the farmer; “We’ll see.”
“You ain’t goin’ to give me up?” asked Tom, anxiously. “I say, mister, don’t give a cove up.”
“We’ll see; we’ll see.”
“Don’t!” pleaded Tom; “please don’t. Look, I won’t never shake any more fowls, I won’t. Only I don’t want to ’ave to go back to that Smith up there above Lismore, an’ get knocked about.”
The farmer’s wife was regarding the culprit with pity.
“Are you hungry now?” she asked.
Tom rubbed his stomach.
“I’m nearly dead,” he murmured woefully; “I’m empty as a ’oller log.”
“Let him come inside, Jacob,” pleaded the wife. “Let me give him a feed first before you do anything with him.”
The man relaxed his grip on Tom’s collar.
[83]
“Look ’ere,” he said, “if what you say turns out to be true, I won’t give you in charge to the police, like I meant to do.”
“It is true, every word,” said Tom solemnly. “Every bloomin’ word of it.”
“What did you say your name was again?” asked the farmer’s wife.
“Stevenson,” replied Tom; “Joe Stevenson.”
“Why you said Robinson first,” exclaimed the farmer.
“No, I never,” protested Tom; “I said Stevenson.”
“I think it was Stevenson, Jacob,” said the wife.
“I’ll swear he said Robinson,” muttered the farmer. “Anyway Stevenson or Robinson, it don’t matter which, for now, you go straight up to the house there in front o’ me. If you try to get away, I’ll give you a good hidin’ first an’ give you in charge to the police afterwards. D’yer hear?”
“Yes,” replied Tom, meekly43. “I hear. I won’t try to run away. I wish I could get a good home,” he added on a second inspiration.
“If yer honest about that, meybe I’ll find a home for you,” said the man. “I want a good lad about the place.”
“You give me a show, an’ don’t whale me like that man Smith did, an’ I’ll work,” said Tom, throwing as much eagerness into his voice as he could.
“I’ll make some enquiries about you in the mornin’,” said the farmer as they entered the kitchen door; “an’ the missus’ll give you a feed for now.”
[84]
The good-hearted woman set down a loaf of bread and the best part of a leg of mutton before Tom.
Then she asked him if he would have tea or milk, and he said he’d take milk so as not to put her to any trouble and he was so polite and softspoken, and looked so penitent44, that her heart went out to him still more.
Tom rolled his eyes about when he saw the food, and put out his hand and seized a piece of bread and wolfed at it.
Then he grabbed the piece of meat which she had just cut off the joint45 and tore it as if he were famished.
“Poor thing, poor thing!” said the woman. “Don’t eat so quickly. You’ll be ill. There now, take your time; don’t gulp46 it. There’s plenty more. You can have as much as you want.”
The pirate chief slowed down, and went steadily47 to work on the bread and meat. It was not much trouble to him to act the part, because his appetite was good, and the fruit he had eaten on the island that day had not proved too staying. All the time he was eating, he thought and thought.
He ate on in a sort of reverie, taking slice after slice of bread and meat as the farmer’s wife cut them off.
The woman watched him with tears in her eyes. “Poor boy” she murmured from time to time. “Poor boy; he must have been starving!”
The loaf of bread disappeared. The last of the leg of mutton disappeared. The good wife went to the cupboard and got a great piece of seed cake and cut it in slices.
[85]
Tom dealt with it slice by slice. The woman’s face became soft and more pitiful. She went to the cupboard again and brought out half a roly-poly.
Tom put his hand secretly down under the table cloth and let go the top button of his trousers.
“Poor boy,” reiterated48 the farmer’s wife; “poor boy.”
Two great womanly tears gathered in her eyes and slowly overflowed49.
Tom, conscious that he was playing a star part, choked down a few more morsels50 of food; then he laid aside his knife and fork, wiped the perspiration51 from his forehead, and sat staring into vacancy52 with bulging53 eyes.
“Could you eat a piece of pineapple?” asked the woman.
Her intentions were kind, but she did not know.
Tom Pagdin groaned54. He felt that any refusal of food might be a weakening of the evidence in his favour. He tried to display as much appetite as possible, and furtively55 letting go another trouser button, replied that he could.
The woman went to a case in the corner, and selected a fair-sized pineapple from it.
It was freshly cut from the pineapple patch in the garden in front, but its fragrance56 failed to awake any enthusiasm in Tom. He stowed away a couple of slices as a matter of form, and then he pleaded, in a thick voice, that he couldn’t eat any more.
“Well,” said the farmer, “I reckon if ye did, you’d be like that cow o’ mine that got into the lucerne patch yisterday.”
[86]
“Why,” asked Tom, in an anxious voice. He was not feeling well within.
“Good enough reason why,” said Jacob Cayley; “the blamed animal’s dead as a dern door-nail.”
“What happened to ’er?” queried the inflated57 pirate.
“Busted!” replied Jacob, grimly.
Tom turned pale.
“I ain’t feeling none too well,” he murmured, placing a band on his lower deck. “Do you think a cove ’ud bust58 like—like a cow?”
“I dunno,” replied the farmer. “If ’e’d et too much he might.”
“Ob, Lord!” groaned Tom.
“How do you feel?” asked Mrs. Cayley.
“I got a pain,” he said, “’ere, an’ ’ere—all over me stummick.”
“’E’s over-et ’imself, Maria,” remarked Cayley. “’E’d better go to bed.”
“I’ll put him in the spare room,” said Maria, regarding Tom with a motherly eye.
“Yes,” replied Jacob, “an’ I’ll lock the door an’ padlock the winder on the outside till we find out whether his yarn59 is true or not.”
Tom’s face fell. He forgot everything—even the untimely end of Cayley’s cow. While he had been feeding he had thought over a plan of escape. It was simple enough. As soon as the farmer and his wife had gone to bed he would slip out, get quietly down to the river bank, and if Dave had taken the boat across to the Pirate’s Camp, swim over and rejoin him.
But now this scheme was baulked. He was to be[87] locked up for the night like a prisoner in a cell, perhaps only liberated60 on the morrow under strict surveillance, and his chance of escape reduced to a minimum. Meanwhile enquiries were to be made about him. He was not far away from home. Somebody would know of him, and he would be found out and ignominiously61 dragged back.
Then again, if he did not succeed in escaping quickly, Dave would probably find solitary62 pirating too lonesome, and give it up.
The farmer marched Tom off to bunk63 while he was reflecting over these things, and having seen him undress, gave him good-night, and told him to make himself comfortable. He turned the key as he went, taking the candle and Tom’s clothes with him. A few minutes after the prisoner heard the wooden shutters64, with which the window, as in old-fashioned country houses, was provided, bang together, and the sounds which followed told him that they were being secured from the outside.
Tom sat on the bed-side in his shirt, the only garment which the farmer had left him, and pondered. It was an awkward fix.
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收听单词发音
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1
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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2
oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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3
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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4
hoards
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| n.（钱财、食物或其他珍贵物品的）储藏，积存( hoard的名词复数 )v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的第三人称单数 ) | |
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5
anguished
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| adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
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6
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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7
cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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8
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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9
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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10
cannons
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| n.加农炮，大炮，火炮( cannon的名词复数 ) | |
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11
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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12
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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13
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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14
organise
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| vt.组织，安排，筹办 | |
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15
maize
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| n.玉米 | |
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16
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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17
fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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21
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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enquiring
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| a.爱打听的，显得好奇的 | |
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subside
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| vi.平静，平息；下沉，塌陷，沉降 | |
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revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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25
quarry
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| n.采石场；v.采石；费力地找 | |
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26
axis
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| n.轴，轴线，中心线；坐标轴，基准线 | |
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27
poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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33
fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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speciously
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| adv.似是而非地；外观好看地，像是真实地 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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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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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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famished
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| adj.饥饿的 | |
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sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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46
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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reiterated
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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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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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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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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furtively
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| adv. 偷偷地, 暗中地 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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inflated
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| adj.（价格）飞涨的；（通货）膨胀的；言过其实的；充了气的v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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ignominiously
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| adv.耻辱地，屈辱地，丢脸地 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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