10
The barking of a gruff-voiced dog from somewhere near the house gave certain sign that the arrival of the cart had been noticed by that animal, as a tall, broad shouldered boy sprang lightly down from the vehicle and walked briskly toward the door of the gloomy building.
“Now, never mind, Ring,” spoke6 a young, but full and pleasant voice from the front of the wagon, as a large dog that stood beneath growled7 deep in its throat in answer to the barking of the other canine8. Instantly the dog was quieted and at the same moment came the sound of knocking at the door of the partially9 lighted house. A full minute passed, and the knocking was vigorously repeated before there was a response.
“This ain’t a tavern10 any more; we can’t keep ye,” said a man who put his head out, before the caller could speak.
“This is the Eagle tavern, isn’t it?” the boy inquired calmly, and the light through the half-open door showed him to be a muscular youth of probably eighteen years, though the serious look about his eyes and mouth, and his dark hair gave him a somewhat older appearance.
11
“It used to be the Eagle tavern, but it ain’t now. Is that all?” the man in the doorway11 replied gruffly.
“Why, no, it is not all,” the lad returned. “There are two of us with a horse and wagon and we want to stay all night. The storm is growing worse, and though we had intended to camp by the roadside, we pushed on through the mud and darkness to reach this place. We expect to pay for our lodging12.”
“It don’t make no difference, I tell ye! We ain’t keeping a public house.”
“Come, come, Mr. Tavern-keeper, my friend and I have both been here before, and if we are willing to stay, you should surely be willing to keep us.”
“That’s the talk!” called the one who remained in the wagon, “and let’s have a lantern out here, and lose no further time about it!”
The man in the door moved aside to let the light fall more directly on his caller’s face.
“Yes, I rec’lect ye,” he said slowly. And then, his face brightening suddenly, he added more pleasantly, “Wait a jiffy.”
12
He closed the door and a murmur13 of voices sounded for a short time from within. Presently, however, the man reappeared with a tallow candle set in a round tin box full of small holes, which he carried by a ring in its top, as a lantern, and followed the young men who had summoned him, to the cart drawn14 up by the roadside.
“The Eagle tavern’s been closed all summer and we hadn’t ought to keep ye,” the man explained, standing15 by while the two boys unhitched their horse and led the animal into the log barn across the road from the house. “Ye kin4 pull yer cart under this shed out o’ the rain,” he went on, indicating a lean-to beside the barn.
In a few minutes the horse had been fed and the host led the way into the house, entering a long, low room, where, in a fireplace, a smoky, cheerless blaze was flickering16. On a table set against the wall opposite the fireplace, a candle was burning, and toward the farther end of the dingy17 apartment two men were seated, their chairs tilted18 back in careless attitudes.
13
“There ain’t much here to eat,” the landlord said, as he motioned his guests to a settle in the chimney corner. “My wife died an’ I quit keepin’ a tavern. I’ll git ye what I kin.”
The two boys he thus ushered19 in did not sit down, but stood before the blaze to allow their clothes to dry; the one who had remained in the wagon while the other went to the door, turning about after a minute or two and stirring the fire till it burned more brightly. He was seventeen years old or thereabout, more slender than his companion and not so tall. His brown hair grew long, and about his blue eyes there was a twinkle of merriment, as he said: “Wood is cheap; we may as well have enough fire to do some good.”
“Right you are, young man,” spoke one of the two strangers still sitting in the semi-darkness. “It’s a nasty night.”
“Right you are,” said the lad, still stirring the fire, adopting the stranger’s own words.
14
One of the two men arose and stepping up to the blaze seated himself on the settle. He was a villainous looking fellow, his curly black hair cut short, his nose very large, red and sharp pointed20, his chin unnaturally21 prominent, his eyes small, black, and deep-set, marks of smallpox22 adding further to make his face an unpleasant one. His age was not less than forty-five years.
So disagreeable, indeed, did the two boys find this man’s appearance that instinctively23 both looked more closely to see what his companion was like. They beheld24 a man ten years younger than the other, though his hair was turning gray, and his hardened leather-like skin made him seem older than he was. He had fairly honest eyes, however, though he turned them away and looked steadily25 in another direction when he found that he was observed.
15
“I was just tellin’ my friends here about Ichabod Nesbit bein’ killed, when you chaps come along,” said the landlord a few minutes later, as he came bringing in some cold meat and a loaf of bread, which he placed on the table. Then asking his young guests to sit down and help themselves, which they proceeded to do, he went on:
“I rec’lect that you boys was sort o’ interested in Nesbit, an’ I heard that it was you two that brought the news East of how he was killed.”
“Yes,” said the older of the two lads in a disinterested26 way, while the other gave him a quiet pinch under the table.
“Killed by an Indian, you said, didn’t you?” put in the villainous looking man.
“An Injun named Black Eagle,” said the landlord.
Neither boy made any move to join in the conversation and the tavern-keeper took another tack27.
“Most forgot how to be polite,” he said. “I don’t rec’lect your names, young men, but make you acquainted with Mr. Samuel Duff and Mr. Lon Dexter, travelers same as you be. My name’s Quilling, ye know that.”
16
It was to the name Samuel Duff that the villainous looking man answered. His better appearing companion arose as the name Lon Dexter was pronounced.
“My name is Kingdom,” said the older of the two boys, rising to shake hands as the men came forward.
“And mine is Jerome,” said the more slender lad, with none too much friendship in his tones.
“Going West, I take it,” said Duff, trying to speak pleasantly.
“Yes,” said the young man named Kingdom, as both boys reseated themselves and went on with their supper.
“So are we,” he of the evil appearance continued—“Dexter and I.”
“It is a great country—the Ohio country, I mean,” said Kingdom, his keen, dark eyes scrutinizing28 the fellow who had seemed to suggest that they might travel together, while he mentally decided29 that he would like no such arrangement.
17
“Yes, a great country and a big country. We’re just going to look around and see whether there would be a good chance to get hold of first-rate land to settle on when the Indian troubles are over,” Duff answered.
No immediate30 reply being made to his words, the fellow went on in a careless tone which anyone could have seen was assumed:
“But you won’t catch us staying around long where the Redskins have war paint on. That man Ichabod Nesbit, we were speaking of, would probably have been living yet if he hadn’t gone off to that blasted wilderness31. What part of the country was he killed in, anyhow?”
“Beyond Pittsburg. Why?” quickly put in the lad Jerome, his interest aroused. For the thought came to him that Ichabod Nesbit was just such an outlaw32 as the fellow now inquiring about him looked to be.
18
“Ho! nothing in particular! You seem to be mighty33 suspicious, the way you ask ‘Why,’” Duff exclaimed, with anger he tried not to show.
“No harm ain’t be’n done, I don’t see. Jest hear it rain though!” put in the other of the two men, Dexter, speaking for almost the first time. His voice was a hoarse34 whisper, and gave the impression that he was frightened and afraid to speak louder.
“Why,” said Kingdom, “there is no secret about when and how and where the man Nesbit was killed. He had followed us all the way from this very tavern, clear across the mountains and the Ohio river. On the way West, he fired at us one night, as we were in camp, and happened to kill Northwind, the son of the Indian, Black Eagle. The long and short of it all is, that Black Eagle, after burying his son, found the trail of Nesbit and followed it—tracked him through woods and over mountains, though how he could do it is wonderful, and at last came up with him only a few minutes after Nesbit had fired on our camp a second time, killing35 our horse. They fought, and Nesbit was killed, but just how or where we do not know. We did not see the fight or know anything about it until Black Eagle told it himself, months afterward36, and showed the man’s skull37 as certain evidence that he was dead.”
19
For a little time nothing more was said. The wind howled dolefully outside and the rain beating on the roof and windows added to the feeling of melancholy38 which seemed to pervade39 the whole place. Little wonder is it that the thoughts of the two boys went back to the terrible experiences they had had in a former trip from their home in Connecticut to the wilderness beyond the western frontier of Pennsylvania. They remembered how a robber and cut-throat by occupation, Ichabod Nesbit, had attempted to relieve them of their money at this very inn—the Eagle tavern—how they had shot at him and he had then secretly followed them, mile after mile, week after week, firing at them from a distance on two occasions and at last killing their horse when they were but a few miles from the spot where, beside the Cuyahoga river, they located and built a cabin.
20
They remembered, too, that Nesbit had been in search of a cousin, named Arthur Bridges, whom he would have killed had he found him, in order to palm himself off as Bridges, whom he closely resembled, and secure his property. And Nesbit was responsible from the beginning for Arthur Bridges’ never having returned home after the Revolutionary war, in which he was a soldier. They had met on the road and Nesbit told Bridges that his (Bridges’) mother had died and his father was cursing him and hoping never to see him again because he had joined General Washington’s army. And it was only by chance that Bridges had discovered through Tom Fish, a friend who had gone in search of him, that Nesbit had deceived him most cruelly.
“The Indian—did you say his name was Black Eagle?—is quite civilized40, I understand,” said Duff, at last. “His home is in the East.”
21
“More civilized than some white folks,” spoke up young Jerome, remembering that the Redskin had been kind to him and Kingdom.
Duff growled an inaudible reply, in response to this thrust, and Kingdom, being tired and, moreover, wishing to avoid any trouble with this disagreeable fellow, suggested that it was time to go to bed.
The landlord, upon request of the boys, brought a candle and showed them into a small down-stairs room opening into a narrow passageway which led to the general living room where they had passed the evening.
“I wish we had not stopped at this wretched hole,” said Jerome when the boys were alone.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. It is pleasanter to be here, disagreeable as it is, than to be camped along the road,” Kingdom answered. “We could have slept in the wagon, but the horse couldn’t, and it is such a bad night! Make the best of it, old chap.”
22
For an hour the young friends lay awake talking of their journey and especially of the unusual interest the two strangers had shown in the death of Ichabod Nesbit.
“I must have a drink of water,” said Jerome, as Kingdom turned over to go to sleep; and slipping into his trousers he felt his way along the passage, and opened the door of the living-room. The landlord and Duff and Dexter were sitting beside the little table, their heads bent41 close to the candle, while they intently examined a frayed42 and time-worn piece of paper.
“It ain’t no use, it ain’t. I’ve studied it right side up an’ wrong side up an’ side ways an’ length ways, an’ it ain’t no use!” Quilling, the landlord, was saying when Jerome’s footfall attracted the attention of the men.
“Blast you, you blasted spy!” cried Duff, springing toward the boy.
“Don’t repeat that, mister,” was the lad’s cool answer. “I was not spying on you, and don’t intend to let any one call me such names.”
“He was only jokin’—only jokin’,” hoarsely43 whispered Dexter, trying to laugh.
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收听单词发音
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1
dismally
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| adv.阴暗地，沉闷地 | |
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2
emigrant
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| adj.移居的，移民的；n.移居外国的人，移民 | |
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3
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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4
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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5
drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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6
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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7
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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8
canine
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| adj.犬的，犬科的 | |
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9
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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10
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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11
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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12
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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13
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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14
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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15
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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16
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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17
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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18
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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19
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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21
unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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22
smallpox
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| n.天花 | |
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23
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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24
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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25
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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26
disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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27
tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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28
scrutinizing
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
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29
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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30
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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31
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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32
outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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33
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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34
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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35
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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36
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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37
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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38
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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39
pervade
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| v.弥漫，遍及，充满，渗透，漫延 | |
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40
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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41
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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42
frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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