Hark to the whistle and the shout!—
The chase is up,—but they shall know,
Three or four weeks passed. They were deep within the bounds of Tyrol. By avoiding towns and highways, travelling often in the night, making prize of every stray sheep, pig, or fowl2, and a diligent3 robbing of henroosts, they had thus far contrived4 to elude5 arrest, and support life.
Morton was greatly changed. Body and mind, he was formed for hardship, and toils6 which would have broken a weaker frame had nerved and strengthened his. But of late their suffering had increased. They found but poor forage8 among the poverty-pinched mountaineers, and for two days, had had no better sustenance9 than the soft inner bark of the pine trees. This, with previous abstinence, had sunk them to the last extremity10, and brought Max to the verge11 of despair.
It was a rainy afternoon; rain drizzling12 in the valleys, clouds hanging on the mountains, dark vapors13 steaming up from the chasms14, and clinging sullenly15 to the edge of the pine forests. Max and Morton sat under a dripping rock, on a mountain which overhangs a nameless little valley, not far to the north of the Val di Sole.
"Keep a good heart, Max," said Morton, "it shall go hard but you and I will get out of this scrape yet."
Max shook his head despondingly. His bold spirit was starved out of him. Morton's courage, unlike that of his companion, was the result more of his mental habits than of a native constitutional intrepidity16, and was therefore much less subject to the changes of his bodily condition. He had proved Max, and knew him to be brave as he was warm and true-hearted; but the corporal's valor17, like that of Homer's heroes, was best displayed on a full stomach.
"There's nothing else for it," said Morton; "we must take the bull by the horns. One of those houses below is an inn, or something that pretends to be one. I can see the bush fastened to the door post. We must go and buy food; or else lie here and die."
"It is better to be shot than starve," said Max.
"Come on, then. You must be spokesman. I am go for nothing in that way; but if there's any trouble, I'll stand by you as well as I can."
Max had had a little money in copper18 and silver, the greater part of which he had consigned19 to the keeping of Morton, as the more careful treasurer20. With this for their passport, they issued from the cover of the woods, and began to cross the mountain slopes and rough pasture that lay between them and the hamlet.
The latter, as they drew near, seemed by no means so insignificant21 as at first, a rising ground having hidden a part of it. They came to the inn, a low stone building of a most respectable antiquity22, and pushing open the door, were met by a short man who seemed to be the owner. Max produced a handful of kreutzers, and asked for bread and meat. The host looked at the strangers, then at their money; seemed satisfied with both, and showed them up a flight of broken steps to a large room above the half-sunken kitchen. Here, at his call, a girl brought the food and placed it on a table. He next asked if they would not have beer; and Max assenting23, went out to bring it.
The fugitives24 now addressed themselves to their meal with the keenness of starving men; but the prudent25 Morton took care, at the same time, to secure the more portable of the viands26 for future need. Having dulled the edge of his appetite, he began to grow uneasy at the landlord's long absence.
"He does take his time," responded Max, also growing anxious.
"This is no place for us. Take the rest of that biscuit, and let's be off."
Max was following this counsel, when—— "Hark!" cried Morton; "what noise is that?"
"Go to the window and look."
Morton did so.
Max sprang to the window. Below, at the door, four or five men were standing29, and among them two gendarmes30, while others were in the act of entering.
The outlandish dress of the two strangers had at once roused the landlord's suspicion. Of Max's character he had not a moment's doubt; for in him no disguise could hide the look and port of the trained soldier. By ill luck, a party of gendarmes were in the village, weather-bound on their way from Latsch. Having secured his guests' money, the landlord thought to make a farther profit from them; and, sure of his reward, reported to the officer in command, that there were in his house two men, the taller of whom was certainly a deserter, while the other could not be a peasant, though he wore the dress of one. The officer mustered31 his followers32, and hastened to beat up the game.
He entered as Max turned from the window, and came up to him, sword in hand.
"I arrest you. Give yourselves up, you and the other."
But before the words were well out of his mouth, the fist of Max fell between his eyes like a battering33 ram7, and dashed him back against the soldier next behind him.
"Come on," cried Max to Morton, and leaped through the open window at the farther end of the room. Morton followed in time to escape two or three bayonet thrusts which were made after him. They both vaulted34 over a fence, and ran through the narrow passage between an old shed and a huge square stack of the last year's hay. A musket35 or two were let off at them, but to no effect; and splashing across a shallow brook36, they made at headlong speed for the shelter of the mountains.
As they reached the base, Max looked back. Seven or eight gendarmes were after them, and behind, later joining the chase, ran two or three men in a different dress.
"Riflemen!" muttered Max, with an oath.
Breasting the rough heights, clinging to stumps37, roots, and bushes, they made their way up with all the speed which desperate need could give them. They were soon among thick trees, hidden from the pursuers, and almost from each other. But the shouts of the soldiers came up from below: they all gave tongue like so many hounds.
"Curse your yelping38 throats!" gasped39 Morton. Breathless and half spent, he was clinging to a sapling on the edge of a steep pitch of the hill. One of the soldiers saw him. A musket shot rang from below, the hollow hum of the ball passing high above his head.
Max laughed in fierce derision. They ran forward again across a wide plateau, nearly void of trees; and before they had fairly gained its farther side, the foremost pursuers were at the border of woods they had just left. Their late famine made fatal odds40 against them. The gendarmes, indeed, gained little in the race; but the more active riflemen were nearer every moment.
Climbing, running, and scrambling41 among rocks, trees, and bushes, they won their way up till they came to another plateau, which broke the ascent42 of the mountain a furlong above the former. Across this they dashed at full speed. They were within a rod or two of the woods beyond, Max running on Morton's left, a little in advance of him, when a musket was fired at them from behind. The aim was so bad, that they did not even hear the humming of the bullet. At the next instant, came a dull, plunging43 report, unlike the former. Max leaped four feet into the air, and fell forward on his face with a force that seemed to shake the earth. Morton kneeled by his side; turned him on his back; lifted him by main strength into a sitting posture44. Both his hands were clutched full of grass and earth.
But Max said nothing. His hat had fallen off; his eyes rolled wildly under his tangled46 hair; he gasped; blood flowed from his lips; and a spot of blood was soaking wider and wider upon the breast of his shirt. Then a deathly change came over his dilated47 eyeballs. Morton had seen the throes of the wounded bison, when the fierce eyes, glaring with angry life, are clouded of a sudden into a dull, cold jelly, fixed48 unmeaning lumps. It was a change like this that he saw in the eyes of Max. His friend was dead. The fatal rifle of Tyrol had done its work. The ball had pierced him from back to breast, and torn through his heart on its way.
The whole passed in a few moments; but when Morton looked up, nearly all the pursuers were in sight on the open ground, and one of them, the man who had fired the death shot, was almost upon him. He snatched Max's pistol, which had fallen on the grass, and, blind with grief and fury, ran forward, levelled, and pulled the trigger. The pistol, wet with the rain, missed fire. The man was not four paces off. Morton hurled49 the pistol at his face. The iron barrel clashed against his teeth, and sent him reeling backward, bleeding and half stunned50. Griping his hatchet51, his best remaining friend, Morton turned for the woods, gained them at three bounds, and tore through the cover like a hunted wolf.
Over rocks, among trees, through thickets52 and brambles, he struggled and clambered on, seeking safety, like the Rocky Mountain goat, in the rudest and wildest refuge. But in a few minutes, his flight was stopped. Rocks rose before him, and rocks on each side. He was caught in a complete cul de sac. He might have climbed the precipices53, but, in the act, the shots from below would soon have tumbled him to the earth again. There was no escape; and, grinding his teeth in rage and desperation, he turned savagely54 at bay.
Three or four of the men were very near him; and almost as he turned, one of them came in sight, pushing through the bushes. As he saw the game, he gave a shout, a sort of view halloo. Then appeared another, and another, all advancing upon him. In a moment, he would have been in their hands, alive or dead; but, without waiting the attack, he sprang on the foremost like a tiger, and plunged56 his hatchet deep in the soldier's eyes and brain. Then pushing past another, who, with a hesitating movement, was making towards him, he dashed down a sloping mass of rocks, dived into a labyrinth57 of thickets, and thence into a dark and hollow gorge58 of the mountain. Along this he ran like one with death's shadow behind him, losing himself deeper and deeper among the chaotic59 rocks and ragged60 trees. He stopped, at last, and listened. Far behind, he could hear his pursuers shouting to each other. The pack were at fault, and ranging in vain search after him.
Spent as he was, he pressed on again, following upward for an hour or more the course of a brook, which issued from a narrow glen, reaching far back into the solitude61 of the mountains. His mind was dim and confused, a cloudland of mixed emotions; deep grief for his murdered friend, deep rage that he had been hunted like a wild beast, a longing62 for further vengeance63, a sense, almost to despair, of his own loneliness and peril64. He felt himself outcast from mankind, driven back to find a sanctuary65 among the dens66 and fastnesses of Nature. She alone, amid the general frown, seemed propitious67; for of a sudden the clouds sundered68 in the west; a gush69 of warm light poured across the dripping mountains, and flushed the distant glaciers70 with their evening rose-tint. In the depths where he stood, all was shadow; but the crags above were basking71 in the sunshine, and the savage55 old pines, jewelled with rain drops, seemed stretching their shaggy arms to welcome the kindly72 radiance. Morton threw himself on the ground, and commended his desperate fortunes to the God of the waste and the mountain.
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1
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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diligent
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| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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elude
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| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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6
toils
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| 网 | |
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7
ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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8
forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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sustenance
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| n.食物，粮食；生活资料；生计 | |
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10
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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11
verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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12
drizzling
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| 下蒙蒙细雨，下毛毛雨( drizzle的现在分词 ) | |
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13
vapors
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| n.水汽，水蒸气，无实质之物( vapor的名词复数 )；自夸者；幻想 [药]吸入剂 [古]忧郁（症）v.自夸，（使）蒸发( vapor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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14
chasms
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| 裂缝( chasm的名词复数 )； 裂口； 分歧； 差别 | |
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15
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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16
intrepidity
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| n.大胆，刚勇；大胆的行为 | |
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17
valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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18
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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19
consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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20
treasurer
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| n.司库，财务主管 | |
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21
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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22
antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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23
assenting
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| 同意，赞成( assent的现在分词 ) | |
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24
fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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25
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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26
viands
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| n.食品，食物 | |
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27
brewed
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| 调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 )； 酝酿； 沏（茶）； 煮（咖啡） | |
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28
recoiling
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| v.畏缩( recoil的现在分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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29
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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30
gendarmes
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| n.宪兵，警官( gendarme的名词复数 ) | |
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31
mustered
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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32
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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33
battering
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| n.用坏，损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
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34
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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35
musket
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| n.滑膛枪 | |
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36
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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37
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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38
yelping
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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39
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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40
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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41
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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42
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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43
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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44
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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45
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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46
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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47
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
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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49
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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50
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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51
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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52
thickets
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| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
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53
precipices
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| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
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54
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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55
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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56
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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57
labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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58
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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59
chaotic
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| adj.混沌的，一片混乱的，一团糟的 | |
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60
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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61
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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62
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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63
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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64
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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65
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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66
dens
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| n.牙齿，齿状部分；兽窝( den的名词复数 )；窝点；休息室；书斋 | |
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67
propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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68
sundered
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| v.隔开，分开( sunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gush
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| v.喷，涌；滔滔不绝(说话)；n.喷，涌流；迸发 | |
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70
glaciers
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| 冰河，冰川( glacier的名词复数 ) | |
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71
basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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72
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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