After the blows of Captain Fishley, I felt that Torrentville was no place for me and for my poor sister. The six months which were to intervene before the coming of Clarence, and the end of my misery4, looked like so many years to me. If it had not been for Flora5, I would not have remained another [100]hour in the house of my tyrants6. I would have fled that moment.
I could not stay long in the barn without another row, for the captain had ordered me to harness the horse; and I concluded that he and the squire7 were going to ride. I was just ugly enough then to disobey; in fact, to cast off all allegiance to my tyrants. I felt as though I could not lift my finger to do anything more for them till some atonement for the past had been made. I gave Darky some hay, and then left my sanctuary, without knowing where I was going.
Back of the house, and half a mile from it, was a narrow but deep stream, which flowed into the creek8. This branch ran through a dense9 swamp—the only one I knew of in that part of the state. In the early spring its surface was overflowed10 with water. It was covered with a thick growth of trees, and the place was as dismal11, dark, and disagreeable as anything that can be imagined.
Hardly any one ever visited the swamp except myself. At this season of the year it was not possible to pass through it, except in a boat. I was rather [101]fond of exploring out-of-the-way places, and this deep and dark morass12 had early attracted my attention. The year before I had made a small raft, and threaded its gloomy recesses13 with Sim Gwynn, a stupid crony of mine, and, like myself, an orphan14, living out and working for his daily bread.
When I left the barn, I wandered towards the swamp. I was thinking only of the indignities which had been heaped upon me. I meant to keep out of the way till dinner-time. At the foot of the slope, as I descended15 to the low land, I came across the raft on which Sim and I had voyaged through the avenues of the dismal swamp the preceding year. It was in a dilapidated condition; and, after adjusting the boards upon the logs, I pushed off, and poled the clumsy craft into the depths of the thicket16. The place was in harmony with my thoughts.
I continued on my purposeless voyage till I reached the swollen17 branch of the creek. Piled up at a bend of the stream was a heap of logs, planks18, boards, and other fugitive19 lumber20 which had come down from the saw-mills, miles up in the country. I seated myself on this heap of lumber, to think of the [102]present and the future. I noticed that one end of a log had been driven ashore21 by the current, and had caught between two trees. All the rest of the boards, planks, and timbers had rested upon this one, and being driven in by the current at the bend, had been entrapped22 and held by it.
This fact made me think of myself. My refusal to black Ham's boots the day before had been the first log, and all my troubles seemed to be piling themselves up upon it. I thought then, and I think now, that I had been abused. I was treated like a dog, ordered about like a servant, and made to do three times as much work as had been agreed with my guardian23. I felt that it was right to resist. There was no one to fight my battle, and that of my poor sister, but myself. I am well aware that I took upon myself a great responsibility in deciding this question. Perhaps, without the counsel of my brother, I should not have dared to proceed as I did. Bad as the consequences threatened to be, I did not regret that I had permitted the log to drift ashore.
Again that pine stick seemed like some great vice24, [103]sin, or error, which, having thrown itself up from the current of life, soon gathers many other vices25, sins, and errors around or upon it. As this log had caught a score of others, so one false step leads to more. The first glass of liquor, the first step in crime, the first unclean word, were typified in this stick.
I was not much of a philosopher or moralist then, but it seemed to me that the entire heap ought to be cleared away; that the whole course of the river might be choked by it in time, if the obstruction26 was not removed. By detaching that first log, all the rest would be cast loose, and carried away by the stream—just as I had known old Cameron to become an honest, Christian27 man by cutting away the log of intemperance28. I was about to use my setting-pole for the purpose of detaching the obstacle, when I happened to think that the lumber might be saved—just as the zeal29 of Paul, in persecuting30 the Christians31, was the same zeal that did so much to build up the true church.
Why should I trouble myself to save the lumber? It would cost a deal of hard labor32, and Captain[104] Fishley would be the only gainer. I decided33 at once not to waste my time for his benefit, and was on the point of detaching the mischievous34 stick which had seduced35 all the others, when I heard a voice calling my name. I was rather startled at first, thinking it might be one of my tyrants in search of me.
"Buck36!" shouted the voice again; and I was satisfied it was not that of either of my oppressors. I could not see through the dense thicket of the swamp; but another repetition of the call assured me it came from Sim Gwynn, my fellow-navigator in the swamp.
"Come here, Buck—will you?" said he, when I had answered his summons.
"I'm coming, Sim!" I shouted.
"I saw you come down here, Buck; and I waited for you a while," said he, stepping upon the raft at my invitation.
"Why didn't you sing out before, then?"
"I thought you'd be coming back," he replied, [105]with more embarrassment38 in his manner than the circumstances seemed to warrant.
"Where do you want to go, Sim?" I asked, as I pushed off again.
"Anywhere; it don't make any difference to me now where I go," he answered, shaking his head.
"Why, what is the matter? Are you not at work now?"
"Not to-day. I've been waiting to see you, Buck."
"What for?"
"I left off work yesterday."
"What's up?"
"I wanted to see you, Buck."
He talked and acted very strangely, and I was sure something unusual had happened. He lived with a farmer by the name of Barkspear, who had the reputation of being the stingiest man in Torrentville, if not in the county. Sim was a great, stout39, bow-legged fellow, as good-natured as the day was long. He always looked as though he had recently escaped from the rag-bag, with its odds40 and ends sticking to him. Though he always looked fat and [106]hearty, he frequently complained that he could not get enough to eat at Barkspear's.
"What's the matter, Sim? Why don't you tell me what has happened?" I continued.
"I wanted to see you, Buck," he repeated, for the fourth time.
"What do you want to see me for?"
"Well, I thought I wanted to see you," said he, fumbling41 his fingers together, and looking into the water, instead of in my face.
"You do see me," I added, impatiently, beginning to have a suspicion that he had lost his senses, what little he had.
"I wanted to ask you something," he added, after a long pause.
"Well, ask it."
"I thought I would tell you about it, and that's the reason I wanted to see you," said Sim, poking42 about his trousers pockets, just as some boys do when they are going to make a speech in school.
"About what?" I asked, more mildly, when I saw that Sim was sort of choking, and exhibited some signs of an intention to break out in a fit of blubbering.[107]
"I'm a poor boy. I haven't got many friends, and—and I wanted to see you."
This was too much for him, and, turning away his head, he cried like a great baby. I pushed the raft up to a fallen tree, whose trunk was above the water, and stuck the pole down into the mud, so as to keep it in place.
"What is the matter, Sim?" I asked again, seating myself on the log. "If I can help you any way, I will."
"I knew you would; and that's the reason I wanted to see you," blubbered Sim, seating himself by my side.
"You said you stopped work yesterday," I continued, in the kindest tones I could command, for I was much moved by his apparent distress43.
"Yes; I stopped work yesterday, and—and—and that's the reason I wanted to see you," sobbed44 he, wiping his face with his dirty hands.
I thought he wanted to see me for a good many reasons; but I concluded to wait until he had recovered his self-possession before I asked any more questions. When the silence had continued [108]for full five minutes, it became embarrassing to him, and he remarked that he had wanted to see me.
"I believe you have lost your senses, Sim," I replied.
"No; I haven't lost my senses—only my stomach," said he, with a piteous look, which alone prevented me from laughing at his ludicrous speech, and the more ludicrous expression upon his face.
"What is the matter with your stomach?" I inquired.
"What do you mean?" I asked, sharply, rather to quicken his wits than to express anger.
"I quit work yesterday."
"So you said before."
"I can't stay to Barkspear's no longer; and that's the reason I wanted to see you," said he, blubbering, and absolutely howling in his deep grief.
"Why not?" I asked, gently.
"I didn't get hardly any breakfast yesterday morning," sobbed he; "only a crust of brown bread. But I wouldn't minded that, if there'd only been enough on't. I was working in the garden, and when[109] I saw Mis' Barkspear go out to the barn to look for eggs, I went into the house. In the buttery I found a piece of cold b'iled pork, about as big as one of my fists—it was a pretty large piece!—and four cold taters. I eat the pork and taters all up, and felt better. That's what I wanted to see you for."
"Why did you quit work?"
"Mis' Barkspear saw me coming out of the house, and when she missed the pork and taters, she knowed I did it. She told the old man I'd eat up the dinner for that day. Barkspear licked me, and I quit. I hain't had nothin' to eat since," said he, bursting into tears.
I pushed the raft back to the landing-place again.
"You won't tell on me, Buck—will you?" pleaded he.
"No. I'm going to get you something to eat."
He was willing.
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1
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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3
indignities
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| n.侮辱，轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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5
flora
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| n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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6
tyrants
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| 专制统治者( tyrant的名词复数 )； 暴君似的人； （古希腊的）僭主； 严酷的事物 | |
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squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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8
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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9
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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11
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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12
morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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13
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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14
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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15
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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17
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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18
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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19
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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20
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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21
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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22
entrapped
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| v.使陷入圈套，使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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24
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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25
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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26
obstruction
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| n.阻塞，堵塞；障碍物 | |
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27
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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28
intemperance
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| n.放纵 | |
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29
zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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30
persecuting
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的现在分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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31
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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32
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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33
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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34
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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35
seduced
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| 诱奸( seduce的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
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36
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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37
plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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38
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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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
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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42
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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43
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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44
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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45
whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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