The slightly retreating chin, which could be discerned through the white beard when his profile was against the light, offered a key to the{98} frailty9 of his character. The power of combat was not there. He had yielded to the storms. He said they called him “Happy Cal” because he wasn’t happy at all.
One dreary10 forenoon, when the black clouds piled up over the lake in the northwest and the big drops began to come, I went to Cal’s shanty and was cordially asked to put my sketching11 outfit12 behind an old soap-box back of the door. It is needless to say that he had acquired this soap-box when it was empty. A long cigar and the recollection of a former visit put him at his ease.
The rain increased, and the breakers began to roar on the beach. The wind whistled through the crevices13 in the side of the shanty, and Cal went out to stuff them with some strips of rotten canvas that he had probably picked up along the shore. It was quite characteristic of Cal to delay this stuffing until stern necessity made it imperative14.
He came in dripping wet, and asked if I happened to have a bottle with me. The stove was a metamorphosed hot-water tank. The rusty15 cylinder16 had been found somewhere among some{99} junk years before. He had made an opening in the front for the wood, a hole in the bottom provided for the draft and the egress17 of the ashes, and a stove pipe, that had seen better days, led through a hole in the irregular roof.
A fire was soon singing in the cylinder, and under its genial18 warmth Happy Cal became reminiscent.
“I’ve had some mighty19 strange experiences since I’ve bin20 livin’ ’ere,” he began. “About nine years ago they was a shipwreck21 out ’ere that raised the devil with all on board an’ with me too. Nobody got drownded, but it would ’ave bin a good thing if some of ’em had.
“It was late in November an’ nobody ’ad any business navigatin’ the lake, ’less they ’ad to, ’cause when it gits to blowin’ out ’ere at that time o’ year, it blows without any trouble at all. A big gale23 come up in the night an’ the breakers was tearin’ away at a great rate, an’ they swashed ’most up to the shanty. I was settin’ up in the bunk24 playin’ sollytare, an’ wonderin’ if the shanty was goin’ to git busted25 up, when I thought I heard voices. I lit my lantern an’ went out to see what{100} was doin’ an’ I saw a light a little ways out an’ heard somebody yellin’.
“There was a big schooner26 almost on the shore. She was poundin’ up an’ down on the bottom in about five feet o’ water. The big rollers was takin’ ’er up an’ smashin’ ’er down so you could hear it a mile. Pretty soon the light went out an’ after that four o’ the wettest fellers y’ ever seen came pilin’ in with the breakers. I grabbed one of ’em that was bein’ washed back agin’, an’ after that I got another one that seemed to be pretty near dead. The other two got out all right by themselves, but they was pretty shaky. They helped me git the others up to the shanty, an’ they was a sight o’ pity when we got ’em there.
“I put some more wood in the stove an’ gave ’em all some whisky. They was about a pint27 left in a gallon jug28 that I got about a week before, with some money I got fer a bunch o’ rabbits. I don’t drink much, but I like to keep sumpen in the shanty in case somebody should git ship-wrecked, an’ it might be me, but I ain’t got none now. I went on the water wagon29 about an hour{101} ago, an’ I’m afraid I’m goin’ to fall off if I git a chance.
“Them fellers lapped up the booze like it was milk, an’ when they found they wasn’t any more they got mad an’ said I was runnin’ a temperance joint30. Then they asked me sarcastic31 if I had any soft drinks, an’ I told ’em they’d find plenty outside. I fried ’em some fish an’ they et up all the crackers32 I had. Then one of ’em got my pipe an’ smoked it.
“They were a tough lot an’ when they got all dried out an’ fed they got to cussin’ each other. I told ’em if they wanted to fight to git out fer I didn’t want no scrappin’ in the shanty. Then two of ’em clinched33 an’ I shoved ’em out doors. Then the others went out an’ pitched on both of ’em. After that they all piled inside agin’ an’ over went the stove. In a few minutes the place looked like it ’ad bin blowed up. We got the stove up after a while, but I lit out up the ravine an’ stayed there pretty near the rest o’ the night, waitin’ fer a calm in the shanty. Hell was poppin’ down there an’ ev’ry minute I was expectin’ to see the sides fly out.{102}
“’Long toward mornin’ I took a sneak34 down an’ peeked35 in. Them sailors was all settin’ in there quiet as lambs, playin’ cards with my deck an’ usin’ all my matches fer chips. I opened the door an’ spoke36 pleasant like to ’em but they told me to git out fer the place ’ad changed hands. After a while, when they found they couldn’t make the stove work, they let me in an’ we had some coffee.”
There are some visitors who make calls, others who come and visit, and still others who make visitations. It was not difficult to classify Cal’s guests as he proceeded with his story.
“It seems that them devils,” continued Cal, “had started down the lake with a load o’ slabs37 an’ some lumber38 from one o’ the saw mills up north. One of ’em’s name was Burke, an’ ’e got to scrappin’ with the cap’n, a feller named Swanson, about the grub they had on board. The other two butted40 in an’ said they wasn’t goin’ to eat no more beans, an’ the feller at the wheel headed the vessel—the Mud Hen ’er name was—straight fer the coast, an’ swore ’e’d hold ’er there ’till the cap’n ’ud tell where some canned things was that{103} ’e knew ’e had on board hid, an’ a’ big jug that they seen ’im put on the night before they sailed. They was about a mile off shore when the wind struck ’em, an’ one o’ the wheel ropes busted, an’ before they could git things fixed41 up they blowed in.
“They was all sore at the cap’n an’ the cap’n an’ the other two was sore at the feller at the wheel, an’ ’e was sore at the whole bunch fer cussin’ ’im, an’ so when they all got soaked it didn’t help things any, an’ when they got dried out they begun beatin’ each other up.
“Olson, the one that ’ad bin pretty near drownded, couldn’t talk much English, but him an’ me sort o’ took to each other after a couple o’ days, an’ ’e told me all about the doin’s on the boat.
“Swanson an’ Burke took my gun an’ went over in the back country an’ shot some tame ducks an’ brought ’em back to the shanty an’ wanted me to fix ’em up to cook. When I was pickin’ ’em on the beach the owners come over. They’d heard the shots an’ they found some tracks an’ seen where they was some feathers. I told ’em I didn’t have{104} nothin’ to do with it, but as I was settin’ there undressin’ the fowls42 they seemed to think I had, an’ I had a lot o’ trouble fixin’ things up.
“All this time the ol’ boat was layin’ in the shallow water keeled over sideways, an’ badly busted up. We climbed into ’er an’ got out a lot o’ stuff, an’ that bunch was mighty glad to git the beans, an’ so was I. We found the cap’n’s jug an’ the cans, an’ that night things broke loose agin, an’ they all went on a bat. They went the limit an’ acted like a lot o’ wild Indians. I poured about a quart out o’ the jug into a bottle an’ hid it in some bushes, but they got to that, too. I told ’em I was just tryin’ to save it fer ’em till the next day, but they got sore about it. They only let me have two drinks from the whole jug.
“The next night they set the ol’ wreck22 afire an’ lit out. What they done that fer I can’t make out. After she burnt down to the water, some big combers washed ’er up on the beach one night an’ you can see what’s left of ’er stickin’ up out there yet. They was a lot o’ good stuff in that boat fer a nice new big cabin fer me, an’ I felt awful bad about it. I saw the tracks of two of ’em goin’ up the beach, an’ the others ’ad gone off in the hills, an’ I guess they’d ’ad another row. They carried off my gun an’ my cards, an’ I never want to see a bunch o’ lunatics like that agin. I’d as leave take in a lot o’ mad dogs as I would them geezers. I wish that dam’ Swede at the wheel ’ad headed ’is ol’ tub som’eres else, ’er sunk ’er out in the middle ’o the lake, instid o’ shootin’ ’er in ’ere an’ fussin’ me all up. Them fellers’ll be about as pop’lar as a skunk43 if they ever come ’round ’ere agin.”
The remains44 of the poor old “Mud Hen” were visible about half a mile down the coast. Her charred45 and broken ribs46 protruded47 from the sands that had buried her keel, seemingly in mute protest against final oblivion. The fate that evil company brings was hers, but her refuge is now secure.
Happy Cal had been born and educated in a southern city. At twenty he had fallen in love with a dark-haired, beautiful, and softly languorous48 creature, with dreamy eyes, whose faded and worn photograph he produced after a long search through the leaves of an old and very dirty book. The book, which he also showed me, was rather anarchistic49 in character, and its well-thumbed{107} pages may have considerably50 influenced Cal’s lack of faith in things in general.
After the exchange of fervent51 mutual52 vows53, he had shouldered a musket54 and answered the call of the cause that was lost on the battlefields of the sixties.
After many vicissitudes55 and many months of suffering and hardship, poor Cal, in a tattered56 uniform, found his way back through the mountains to the altar on which he had laid his heart. He found the raven57 tresses on the shoulder of another, and retreated into the soul darkness from which he never emerged. He was only partially58 conscious of the weary miles and aimless wanderings that eventually took him into the silence and isolation59 of the sand hills, where he elected to abide60 in secrecy61.
The golden chalice62 had been dashed from his lips—he had drunk of bitter waters. His star had fallen, and, like a wounded animal, he had sought the solitudes63, beyond the arrows that had torn him.
The sad, lonely years in the little driftwood hut had benumbed the cruel memories, but the problems of existence brought only partial forget{108}fulness. Under the cold northern stars and during the winter storms, his seared and tortured soul strove for peace, but it came not.
His sole companion in his exile was a big gray and white dog. He had found the poor, half-starved, stray creature prowling around in the vicinity of the hut one night, and had taken him in. Community of interest had caused these two atoms to coalesce64. The dogs name was Pete, and it was Pete who was the indirect and innocent cause of Cal’s final awakening65 to what he considered a sad reality a year or two later.
Pete got in contact with a voracious66 bulldog, that came from somewhere over in the back country; and in the final analysis—in which the two animals participated—Pete was left in a badly mangled67 condition.
Cal found him, and happening to be near the shanty of a neighbor, several miles from his own shack68, carried the unfortunate Pete tenderly to shelter.
It was through this neighbor, another hermit69, with another history, that Cal got interested in a pile of old newspapers and magazines which had{109} been procured70 in some way by this isolated71 tenant72 of the sands, who still maintained a lagging interest in the affairs of the outside world.
During Pete’s convalescence73, Cal found in one of these old papers an account of a women’s rights meeting in his native city, in which his former ideal of beauty and loveliness had taken a prominent part.
Her picture was in the paper and Cal was{110}
disillusioned74. The finger of time had touched the love of his youth and she was ugly. The tender blossom of nineteen was a cactus75 at fifty. To use his own phrase—“she looked like the breakin’ up of a hard winter.” In addition to the picture, the report of the proceedings76, during which his former affinity77 had violently attacked what Cal considered were the sacred prerogatives78 of the male{111} sex, extinguished the last lingering fond impression, and the lovely vision vanished.
He did not believe that women had sufficient intelligence to vote, and the idea of their taking part in sage79 political councils was repugnant to him. While he did not vote himself, he said that there “was plenty o’ men to ’tend to them things, an’ its foolish to allow women to git mixed up in the govament.”
This wise and smug anti-suffragist thought that the female sex “should be allowed to meet, if they want to, but they hadn’t ought a butt39 in on things that require superior intelligence.”
The newspaper cut had done its awful work on Cal, and women’s rights had completed the demolition80 of an ideal that had been cherished through the years. His idol81 had crumbled82 and turned to ashes, and his dog was now the only live thing that he considered worthy83 of affection.
The story had in it much pathos84, but interspersed85 through it was a great deal of picturesque86 profanity, particularly in connection with the idea of women casting votes, which had aroused the dormant87 passions of his nature.{112}
The storm was over. I left him a small supply of tobacco, promised to drop in again, and bade him good-bye.
Several days later, in talking with Sipes, I happened to mention Cal’s sad life history. He laughed and said that Cal was a liar88.
“The real facts is ’e lived over in the back country fer twenty years, an’ ’e was chased into the hills by ’is wife an’ mother-in-law fer good an’ sufficient reasons. He handed me all that dope oncet about some girl ’e was stuck on some’res down south. It’s all right fer an old cuss like ’im to set ’round an’ talk, but ’e was just ’avin’ dizzy dreams, an’ you fergit ’em. If ’e’d only tell the truth, the way I always do, ’e wouldn’t never have no trouble, an’ folks would ’ave some respect fer ’im, like they do fer me.”
A year elapsed before I again saw the little shanty. The drifting sands had partially covered it, and my knock was unanswered. Several boards were missing from the roof, and through a wide crack I saw that occupation had ceased. The bunk{113} was covered with débris. There were some empty cans on the floor and, I am sorry to say, a few bottles, but Happy Cal was gone.
Let us hope that the wave of fortune or misfortune that took this poor piece of human driftwood on its crest89 carried him to some far-off, sun-kissed, and glorious shore, where there is no political equality, and where women have no rights.
Either he had spent a most pathetic and adventurous90 life, or he was one of the most delightful91 liars92 I ever listened to.
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1
deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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sobriquet
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| n.绰号 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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sinewy
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| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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luster
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| n.光辉；光泽，光亮；荣誉 | |
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frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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cylinder
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| n.圆筒，柱(面)，汽缸 | |
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egress
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| n.出去；出口 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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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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shipwreck
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| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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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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busted
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| adj. 破产了的，失败了的，被降级的，被逮捕的，被抓到的 动词bust的过去式和过去分词 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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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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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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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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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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peeked
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| v.很快地看( peek的过去式和过去分词 )；偷看；窥视；微露出 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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butted
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| 对接的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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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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skunk
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| n.臭鼬，黄鼠狼；v.使惨败，使得零分；烂醉如泥 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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languorous
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| adj.怠惰的，没精打采的 | |
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anarchistic
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| 无政府主义的 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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54
musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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chalice
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| n.圣餐杯；金杯毒酒 | |
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solitudes
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| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
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coalesce
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| v.联合，结合，合并 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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voracious
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| adj.狼吞虎咽的，贪婪的 | |
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mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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convalescence
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| n.病后康复期 | |
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74
disillusioned
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| a.不再抱幻想的，大失所望的，幻想破灭的 | |
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cactus
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| n.仙人掌 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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affinity
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| n.亲和力，密切关系 | |
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prerogatives
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| n.权利( prerogative的名词复数 )；特权；大主教法庭；总督委任组成的法庭 | |
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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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80
demolition
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| n.破坏,毁坏,毁坏之遗迹 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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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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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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crest
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| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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