"I don't know what can be keeping West," he said after a while. "We haven't seen the mail-carrier either, and he's two hours late; but he must have had a heavy trail all the way from the settlement. I expect he'll cut out our place and make straight for Grant's. We'll have snow before long."
There was an empty shack4 not far away where, by George's consent, the mail-carrier left letters when bad weather made it desirable to shorten his round.
Grierson nodded as he glanced about. The stretch of desolate5 white prairie had contracted since he had last noticed it, the surrounding dimness was creeping nearer in, and the ranks of poplar trunks were losing their sharpness of form. Now that the men had ceased chopping, they could hear the eerie7 moaning of the wind and the sharp patter of icy snow-dust among the withered8 brush.
"It will take him all his time to fetch Grant's; I wish Mr. West would come before it gets dark," Grierson said with a shiver, and fell to work again.
Several minutes passed. George was thinking more about the mail-carrier's movements than about Edgar's. The English letters should have arrived, and he was anxiously wondering if there were any for him. Then, as he stopped for breath, a dim moving blur9 grew out of the prairie, and he flung down his ax.
"Here's West; we'll have light enough to put up the load," he said.
A little later Edgar led two powerful horses up the narrow trail, and for a while the men worked hard, stacking the logs upon the sledge. Then they set off at the best pace the team could make, and the cold struck through them when they left the bluff.
"Stinging, isn't it?" Edgar remarked. "I couldn't get over earlier; Flett turned up, half frozen, and he kept me. Seems to have some business in this neighborhood, though he didn't say what it is."
George, walking through the snow to leeward10 of the loaded sledge, where it was a little warmer, betrayed no interest in the news. Temperance reform was languishing11 at Sage12 Butte and its leaders had received a severe rebuff from the authorities. The police, who had arrested an Indian suspected of conveying liquor to the reservation, had been no more successful, for the man had been promptly13 acquitted14. They had afterward15 been kept busy investigating the matter of the shooting of George's bull, which had recovered; but they had found no clue to the offender16, and nothing of importance had happened for some time.
It had grown dark and the wind was rapidly increasing. Powdery snow drove along before it, obscuring the men's sight and lashing17 their tingling18 faces. At times the icy white haze19 whirled about them so thick that they could scarcely see the blurred20 dark shape of the sledge, but as they had hauled a good many loads of stovewood home, the trail was plainly marked. It would be difficult to lose it unless deep snow fell. With lowered heads and fur caps pulled well down, they plodded21 on, until at length George stopped where the shadowy mass of a bluff loomed22 up close in front of them.
"I'll leave you here and make for the shack," he said. "I want to see if there are any letters."
"It's far too risky," Edgar pointed23 out. "You'll get lost as soon as you leave the beaten trail."
"I'll have the bluff for a guide, and it isn't far from the end of it to the small ravine. After that I shouldn't have much trouble in striking the fallow."
"It's doubtful," Edgar persisted. "Let the letters wait until to-morrow."
"No," said George, resolutely24. "I've waited a week already; the mail is late. Besides, we'll have worse snow before morning."
Seeing that he had made up his mind, Edgar raised no more objections, and in another few moments George disappeared into a haze of driving snow. When he left the trail he found walking more difficult than he had expected, but though it was hard to see beyond a few yards, he had the bluff to guide him and he kept along the edge of it until the trees vanished suddenly. Then he stopped, buffeted25 by the wind, to gather breath and fix clearly in his mind the salient features of the open space that he must cross.
If he could walk straight for half a mile, he would strike a small hollow and by following it he would reach a tract6 of cultivated ground. This, he thought, should be marked by the absence of the taller clumps26 of grass and the short willow27 scrub which here and there broke through the snow. There would then be a stretch of about two hundred acres to cross before he found the little shack, whose owner had gone away to work on the railroad during the winter. He expected to have some trouble in reaching it, but he must get the letters, and he set off again, breaking through the snow-crust in places, and trying to estimate the time he took.
A quarter of an hour passed and, as there was no sign of the ravine, he began to wonder whether he had deviated28 much from his chosen line. In another few minutes he was getting anxious; and then suddenly he plunged29 knee-deep into yielding snow. It got deeper at the next step and he knew that he had reached the shallow depression, which had been almost filled up by the drifts. He must cross it, and the effort this entailed30 left him gasping31 when he stopped again on the farther side.
It was still possible to retrace32 his steps, because he could hardly fail to strike the bluff he had left, but there was no doubt that to go on would be perilous33. If he missed the shack, he might wander about the prairie until he sank down, exhausted34; and after a day of fatiguing35 labor36 he knew that he could not long face the wind and frost. There was, however, every sign of a wild storm brewing37; it might be several days before he could secure the letters if he turned back, and such a delay was not to be thought of.
He went on, following the ravine where he could trace its course, which was not always possible, until he decided38 that he must have reached the neighborhood of the farm. There was, however, nothing to indicate that he had done so. He could see only a few yards; the snow had all been smooth and unbroken near the hollow, he could distinguish no difference between any one part of it and the rest; and he recognized the risk he took when he turned his back on his last guide and struggled forward into the waste.
Walking became more difficult, the wind was getting stronger, and there was no sign of the shack. Perhaps he had gone too far to the south. He inclined to the right, but that brought him to nothing that might serve as a guide; there was only smooth snow and the white haze whirling round him. He turned more to the right, growing desperately39 afraid, stopped once or twice to ascertain40 by the way the snow drove past whether he was wandering from his course, and plodded on again savagely42. At last something began to crackle beneath his feet. Stooping down, he saw that it was stubble, and he became sensible of a vast relief. He could not be more than a few minutes walk from the shack.
It was only three or four yards off when he saw it, and on entering he had difficulty in closing the rickety door. Then, when he had taken off his heavy mittens43, it cost him some trouble to find and strike a match with his half-frozen hands. Holding up the light, he glanced eagerly at a shelf and saw the two letters he had expected; there was no mistaking the writing and the English stamps. He thrust them safely into a pocket beneath his furs when the match went out and struck another, for his next step required consideration.
The feeble radiance traveled round the little room, showing the rent, board walls and the beams rough from the saw that supported the cedar44 roofing shingles45. A little snow had sifted46 in and lay on the floor; there was a rusty47 stove at one end, but no lamp or fuel, and the hay and blankets had been removed from the wooden bunk48. Still, as George was warmly clad and had space to move about, he could pass the night there. The roar of the wind about the frail49 building rendered the prospects50 of the return journey strongly discouraging. He might, however, be detained all the next day by the snow; but what chiefly urged him to face the risk of starting for the homestead was his inability to read his letters. The sight of them had sent a thrill through him, which had banished51 all sense of the stinging cold. He had eagerly looked forward to a brief visit to the old country, and Sylvia had, no doubt, bidden him come. It was delightful52 to picture her welcome, and the evenings they would spend in Muriel Lansing's pretty drawing-room while he told her what he had done and unfolded his plans for the future. He could brook53 no avoidable delay in reading her message, and, nerving himself for a struggle, he set out again.
The shack vanished the moment he left it. The snow was thicker; and, floundering heavily through the storm, George had almost given up the attempt to find the ravine, when he fell violently into a clearer part of it. Then he gathered courage, for the bluff was large and would be difficult to miss; but it did not appear when he expected it. He was breathless, nearly blinded, and on the verge54 of exhaustion55, when he crashed into a dwarf56 birch and, looking up half dazed, saw an indistinct mass of larger trees. He had now a guide, but it was hard to follow, with his strength fast falling and the savage41 wind buffeting57 him. He had stopped a moment, gasping, when something emerged from the driving snow. It was moving; it looked like a team with a sledge or wagon58, and he thought that his companions had come in search of him. He cried out, but there was no answer, and though he tried to run, the beasts vanished as strangely as they had appeared.
They had, however, left their tracks, coming up from the south, where the settlement lay, and this convinced him that they had not been driven by Edgar or Grierson. He made an attempt to overtake them and, falling, went on again, wondering a little who the strangers could be; though this was not a matter of much consequence. If they had blankets or driving-robes, they might pass the night without freezing in the bluff, where there was fuel; but George was most clearly conscious of the urgent need for his reaching the homestead before his strength gave out.
At last he struck the beaten trail which had fortunately not yet been drifted up, and after keeping to it for a while he saw a faint twinkle of light in front of him. A voice answered his shout and when he stopped, keeping on his feet with difficulty and utterly59 worn out, a team came up, blurred and indistinct, out of the driving snow. After that somebody seized him and pushed him toward an empty sledge.
"Get down out of the wind; here's the fur robe!" cried a voice he recognized. "We came back as soon as we had thrown off the load."
George remembered very little about the remainder of the journey, but at last the sledge stopped where a warm glow of light shone out into the snow. Getting up with some trouble he reached the homestead door and walked heavily into the room where he sank, gasping, into a chair. He felt faint and dizzy, he could scarcely breathe; but those sensations grew less troublesome as he recovered from the violent change of temperature. Throwing off his furs, he noticed that Flett sat smoking near the stove.
"Here's some coffee," said the constable60. "It's pretty lucky Grierson found you. I can't remember a worse night."
George drank the coffee. He still felt heavy and partly dazed; his mind was lethargic61, and his hands and feet tingled62 painfully with the returning warmth. He knew that there was something he ought to tell Flett, but it was a few minutes before he could think clearly.
"I met a team near the bluff and lost it again almost immediately," he mumbled63 finally.
Flett's face became intent.
"Did the men who were with it see you? Which way were they going?"
"No," said George sleepily. "Anyway, though I called I didn't get an answer. I think they were going west."
"And there's no homestead for several leagues, except Langside's shack.
They'll camp there sure."
"I don't see why they shouldn't," George remarked with languid indifference64.
"Hasn't it struck you why those fellows should be heading into waste prairie on a night like this? Guess what they've got in the wagon's a good enough reason. If the snow's not too bad, they'll pull out for the Indian reservation soon as it's light to-morrow."
"You think they have liquor with them?" asked George.
Flett nodded and walked toward the door, and George felt the sudden fall of temperature and heard the scream of the wind. In a minute or two, however, the constable reappeared with Edgar.
"I'd get them sure; they're in the shack right now," Flett declared.
"You would never find it," Edgar remonstrated65. "We had hard enough work to strike the homestead, and we were on a beaten trail, which will have drifted up since then. You'll have to drop the idea—it's quite impossible."
"It's blamed hard luck," grumbled66 Flett. "I may trail the fellows, but I certainly won't get them with the liquor right in the wagon, as it will be now, and without something of that kind it's mighty67 hard to secure a conviction. I've no use for the average jury; what we want is power to drop on to a man without any fuss or fooling and fix him so he won't make more trouble."
"It's fortunate you'll never get it," Edgar remarked. "I've a notion it would be a dangerous thing to trust even a Northwest policeman with. You're not all quite perfect yet."
Then George, recovering from his lethargy, remembered the letters and eagerly opened the one from Sylvia. It consisted of a few sentences in which she carelessly told him that if he came over he would not see her, as she was going to Egypt with Herbert and Muriel. The hint of regret that her journey could not be put off looked merely conventional, but she said he might make his visit in the early summer, as she would have returned by then.
George's face hardened as he read it, for the disappointment was severe. He thought that Sylvia might have remembered that he could not leave the farm after spring had begun. The man felt wounded and, for once, inclined to bitterness. His optimistic faith, which idealized its object, was bound to bring him suffering when dispelled68 by disillusion69; offering sincere homage70 to all that seemed most worthy71, he had not learned tolerance72. Though his appreciation73 was quick and generous, he must believe in what he admired, and it was, perhaps, a misfortune that he was unable to recognize shortcomings with cynical74 good-humor. He could distinguish white from black—the one stood for spotless purity, the other was very dark indeed—but his somewhat restricted vision took no account of the more common intermediate shades.
For all that, he was incapable75 of seriously blaming Sylvia. Her letter had hurt him, but he began to make excuses for her, and several that seemed satisfactory presented themselves; then, feeling a little comforted, he opened the letter from Herbert with some anxiety. When he read it, he let it drop upon the table and set his lips tight. His cousin informed him that it would be most injudicious to raise any money just then by selling shares, as he had been requested to do. Those he had bought on George's account had depreciated76 in an unexpected manner and the markets were stagnant77. George, he said, must carry on his farming operations as economically as possible, until the turn came.
"Bad news?" said Edgar sympathetically.
"Yes. I'll have to cut out several plans I'd made for spring; in fact,
I don't quite see how I'm to go on working on a profitable scale.
We'll have to do without the extra bunch of stock I was calculating on;
and I'm not sure I can experiment with that quick-ripening wheat.
There are a number of other things we'll have to dispense78 with."
"We'll pull through by some means," Edgar rejoined encouragingly, and
George got up.
"I feel rather worn out," he said. "I think I'll go to sleep."
He walked wearily from the room, crumpling79 up the letters he had risked his life to secure.
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收听单词发音
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1
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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3
hewing
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| v.（用斧、刀等）砍、劈( hew的现在分词 )；砍成；劈出；开辟 | |
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shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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9
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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leeward
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| adj.背风的；下风的 | |
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languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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acquitted
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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offender
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| n.冒犯者，违反者，犯罪者 | |
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lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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18
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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21
plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；努力从事；沉闷地苦干；缓慢进行（尤指艰难枯燥的工作） | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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23
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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25
buffeted
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| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
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26
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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deviated
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| v.偏离，越轨( deviate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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29
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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30
entailed
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| 使…成为必要( entail的过去式和过去分词 )； 需要； 限定继承； 使必需 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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32
retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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fatiguing
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| a.使人劳累的 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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37
brewing
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| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
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38
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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39
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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40
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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41
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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42
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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43
mittens
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| 不分指手套 | |
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44
cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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45
shingles
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| n.带状疱疹；（布满海边的）小圆石( shingle的名词复数 )；屋顶板；木瓦（板）；墙面板 | |
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46
sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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47
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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48
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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49
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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50
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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51
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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53
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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54
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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55
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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56
dwarf
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| n.矮子，侏儒，矮小的动植物；vt.使…矮小 | |
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buffeting
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| 振动 | |
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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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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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60
constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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61
lethargic
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| adj.昏睡的，懒洋洋的 | |
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62
tingled
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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disillusion
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| vt.使不再抱幻想，使理想破灭 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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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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tolerance
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| n.宽容；容忍，忍受；耐药力；公差 | |
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73
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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75
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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76
depreciated
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| v.贬值，跌价，减价( depreciate的过去式和过去分词 )；贬低，蔑视，轻视 | |
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stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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78
dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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crumpling
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| 压皱，弄皱( crumple的现在分词 )； 变皱 | |
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