They had not met on the journey, because the two bands of the tribe were acting1 independently of each other.
We will leave them at this point and ask the reader to return to another part of the plain over which Tolly and Betty had galloped3 so furiously.
It is a small hollow, at the bottom of which a piece of marshy4 ground has encouraged the growth of a few willows5. Paul Bevan had selected it as a suitable camping-ground for the night, and while Paddy Flinders busied himself with the kettle and frying-pan, he and Fred Westly went among the bushes to procure6 firewood.
Fred soon returned with small twigs7 sufficient to kindle8 the fire; his companion went on further in search of larger boughs9 and logs.
While Fred was busily engaged on hands and knees, blowing the fire into a flame, a sharp “hallo!” from his companion caused him to look up.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Goliath of Gath—or his brother!” said Paddy, pointing to a little eminence10 behind which the sun had but recently set.
The horseman, who had come to a halt on the eminence and was quietly regarding them, did indeed look as if he might have claimed kinship with the giant of the Philistines11, for he and his steed looked stupendous. No doubt the peculiarity13 of their position, with the bright sky as a glowing background, had something to do with the gigantic appearance of horse and man, for, as they slowly descended14 the slope towards the fire, both of them assumed a more natural size.
The rider was a strange-looking as well as a large man, for he wore a loose shooting-coat, a tall wideawake with a broad brim, blue spectacles with side-pieces to them, and a pair of trousers which appeared to have been made for a smaller man, as, besides being too tight, they were much too short. Over his shoulder was slung15 a green tin botanical box. He carried no visible weapons save a small hatchet16 and a bowie-knife, though his capacious pockets might easily have concealed17 half a dozen revolvers.
“Goot night, my frunds,” said the stranger, in broken English, as he approached.
“The same to yersilf, sor,” returned Flinders.
Anyone who had been closely watching the countenance18 of the stranger might have observed a sudden gleam of surprise on it when the Irishman spoke19, but it passed instantly, and was replaced by a pleasant air of good fellowship as he dismounted and led his horse nearer the fire.
“Good night, and welcome to our camp. You are a foreigner, I perceive,” said Fred Westly in French, but the stranger shook his head.
“I not un’erstan’.”
“Ah! a German, probably,” returned Fred, trying him with the language of the Fatherland; but again the stranger shook his head.
“You mus’ spok English. I is a Swedish man; knows noting but a leetil English.”
“I’m sorry that I cannot speak Swedish,” replied Fred, in English; “so we must converse20 in my native tongue. You are welcome to share our camp. Have you travelled far?”
Fred cast a keen glance of suspicion at the stranger as he spoke, and, in spite of himself, there was a decided21 diminution22 in the heartiness23 of his tones, but the stranger did not appear to observe either the change of tone or the glance, for he replied, with increased urbanity and openness of manner, “Yis; I has roden far—very far—an’ moche wants meat an’ sleep.”
As he spoke Paul Bevan came staggering into camp under a heavy load of wood, and again it may be said that a close observer might have noticed on the stranger’s face a gleam of surprise much more intense than the previous one when he saw Paul Bevan. But the gleam had utterly25 vanished when that worthy26, having thrown down his load, looked up and bade him good evening.
The urbanity of manner and blandness27 of expression increased as he returned the salutation.
“T’anks, t’anks. I vill go for hubble—vat28 you call—hobble me horse,” he said, taking the animal’s bridle29 and leading it a short distance from the fire.
“I don’t like the look of him,” whispered Fred to Paul when he was out of earshot.
“Sure, an’ I howld the same opinion,” said Flinders.
“Pooh! Never judge men by their looks,” returned Bevan—“specially in the diggin’s. They’re all blackguards or fools, more or less. This one seems to be one o’ the fools. I’ve seed sitch critters before. They keep fillin’ their little boxes wi’ grass an’ stuff; an’ never makes any use of it that I could see. But every man to his taste. I’ll be bound he’s a good enough feller when ye come to know him, an’ git over yer contempt for his idle ways. Very likely he draws, too—an’ plays the flute30; most o’ these furriners do. Come now, Flinders, look alive wi’ the grub.”
When the stranger returned to the fire he spread his huge hands over it and rubbed them with apparent satisfaction.
“Fat a goot t’ing is supper!” he remarked, with a benignant look all round; “the very smell of him be deliciowse!”
“An’ no mistake!” added Flinders. “Sure, the half the good o’ victuals31 would be lost av they had no smell.”
“Where have you come from, stranger?” asked Bevan, as they were about to begin supper.
“From de Sawbuk Hills,” answered the botanist32, filling his mouth with an enormous mass of dried meat.
“Ay, indeed! That’s just where we are goin’ to,” returned Bevan.
“An’ vere may you be come from?” asked the stranger.
“From Simpson’s Gully,” said Fred.
“Ha! how cooriouse! Dat be joost vere I be go to.”
The conversation flagged a little at this point as they warmed to the work of feeding; but after a little it was resumed, and then their visitor gradually ingratiated himself with his new friends to such an extent that the suspicions of Fred and Flinders were somewhat, though not altogether, allayed33. At last they became sufficiently34 confidential35 to inform the stranger of their object in going to the Sawback Hills.
“Ha! Vat is dat you say?” he exclaimed, with well-feigned surprise; “von yoong man carried avay by Ridskins. I saw’d dem! Did pass dem not longe ago. T’ree mans carry von man. I t’ink him a sick comrade, but now I reklect hims face vas vhitish.”
“Could ye guide us to the place where ye met them?” asked Bevan, quickly.
The botanist did not reply at once, but seemed to consider.
“Vell, I has not moche time to spare; but come, I has pity for you, an’ don’t mind if I goes out of de vay to help you. I vill go back to the Sawbuk Hills so far as need be.”
“Thank ’ee kindly,” returned Bevan, who possessed36 a grateful spirit; “I’ll think better of yer grass-gatherin’ after this, though it does puzzle me awful to make out what’s the use ye put it to. If you kep’ tame rabbits, now, I could understand it, but to carry it about in a green box an’ go squeezin’ it between the leaves o’ books, as I’ve seed some of ’ee do, seems to me the most outrageous—”
“Ha, ha!” interrupted the botanist, with a loud laugh; “you is not the first what t’ink hims nonsense. But you mus’ know dere be moche sense in it,”—(he looked very grave and wise here)—“very moche. First, ye finds him; den2 ye squeezes an’ dries him; den ye sticks him in von book, an’ names him; den ye talks about him; oh! dere is moche use in him, very moche!”
“Well, but arter you’ve found, an’ squeezed, an’ dried, an’ stuck, an’ named, an’ talked about him,” repeated Paul, with a slight look of contempt, “what the better are ye for it all?”
“Vy, ve is moche de better,” returned the botanist, “for den ve tries to find out all about him. Ve magnifies him, an’ writes vat ve zee about him, an’ compares him vid oders of de same family, an’ boils, an’ stews37, an’ fries, an’ melts, an’ dissolves, an’ mixes him, till ve gits somet’ing out of him.”
“It’s little I’d expect to git out of him after tratin’ him so badly,” remarked Flinders, whose hunger was gradually giving way before the influence of venison steaks.
“True, me frund,” returned the stranger, “it is ver’ leetil ve gits; but den dat leetil is ver’ goot—valooable you calls it.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Bevan, with an air that betokened38 doubt. Flinders and Fred said nothing, but the latter felt more than ever inclined to believe that their guest was a deceiver, and resolved to watch him narrowly. On his part, the stranger seemed to perceive that Fred suspected him, but he was not rendered less hearty39 or free-and-easy on that account.
In the course of conversation Paul chanced to refer to Betty.
“Ah! me frund,” said the stranger, “has you brought you’s vife to dis vile40 contry!”
“No, I haven’t,” replied Paul, bluntly.
“Oh, pardon. I did t’ink you spoke of Bettie; an surely dat is vooman’s name?”
“Ay, but Betty’s my darter, not my wife,” returned Paul, who resented this inquisition with regard to his private affairs.
“Is you not ’fraid,” said the botanist, quietly helping41 himself to a marrow-bone, “to leave you’s darter at Simpson’s Gully?”
“Who told you I left her there?” asked Bevan, with increasing asperity42.
“Oh! I only t’ink so, as you’s come from dere.”
“An’ why should I be afraid?”
“Because, me frund, de contry be full ob scoundrils.”
“Yes, an’ you are one of the biggest of them,” thought Fred Westly, but he kept his thoughts to himself, while Paul muttered something about being well protected, and having no occasion to be afraid.
Perceiving the subject to be distasteful, the stranger quickly changed it. Soon afterwards each man, rolling himself in his blanket, went to sleep—or appeared to do so. In regard to Paddy Flinders, at least, there could be no doubt, for the trombone-tones of his nose were eloquent43. Paul, too, lay on his back with eyes tight shut and mouth wide open, while the regular heaving of his broad chest told that his slumbers44 were deep. But more than once Fred Westly raised his head gently and looked suspiciously round. At last, in his case also, tired Nature asserted herself, and his deep regular breathing proved that the “sweet restorer” was at work, though an occasional movement showed that his sleep was not so profound as that of his comrades.
The big botanist remained perfectly45 motionless from the time he lay down, as if the sleep of infancy46 had passed with him into the period of manhood. It was not till the fire had died completely down, and the moon had set, leaving only the stars to make darkness visible, that he moved. He did so, not as a sleeper47 awaking, but with the slow stealthy action of one who is already wide awake and has a purpose in view.
Gradually his huge shoulders rose till he rested on his left elbow.
A sense of danger, which had never left him even while he slept, aroused Fred, but he did not lose his self-possession. He carefully watched, from the other side of the extinct fire, the motions of the stranger, and lay perfectly still—only tightening48 his grasp on the knife-handle that he had been instinctively49 holding when he dropped asleep.
The night was too dark for Fred to distinguish the man’s features. He could only perceive the outline of his black figure, and that for some time he rested on his elbow without moving, as if he were contemplating50 the stars. Despite his efforts to keep awake, Fred felt that drowsiness51 was again slowly, but surely, overcoming him. Maintaining the struggle, however, he kept his dreamy eyes riveted52 on their guest until he seemed to swell53 into gigantic proportions.
Presently Fred was again thoroughly54 aroused by observing that the right arm of the man moved slowly upwards55, and something like a knife appeared in the hand; he even fancied he saw it gleam, though there was not light enough to render that possible.
Feeling restrained, as if under the horrible influence of nightmare, Fred lay there spell-bound and quite unable to move, until he perceived the stranger’s form bend over in the direction of Paul Bevan, who lay on the other side of him.
Then, indeed, Fred’s powers returned. Shouting, “look out, Paul!” he sprang up, drew his bowie-knife, and leaped over the blackened logs, but, to his surprise and confusion, found that the stranger lay extended on the ground as if sound asleep. He roused himself, however, and sat up, as did the others, on hearing Fred’s shout.
“Fat is wrong, yoong man?” he inquired, with a look of sleepy surprise.
“Ye may well ax that, sor,” said Flinders, staggering to his feet and seizing his axe56, which always lay handy at his side. Paul had glanced round sharply, like a man inured57 to danger, but seeing nothing to alarm him, had remained in a sitting position.
“Why, Westly, you’ve been dreaming,” he said with a broad grin.
“So I must have been,” returned the youth, looking very much ashamed, “but you’ve no notion what a horrible dream I had. It seemed so real, too, that I could not help jumping up and shouting. Pardon me, comrades, and, as bad boys say when caught in mischief58, ‘I won’t do it again!’”
“Ve pardon you, by all means,” said the botanist stretching himself and yawning, “and ve do so vid de more pleasure for you has rouse us in time for start on de joorney.”
“You’re about right. It’s time we was off,” said Paul, rising slowly to his feet and looking round the horizon and up at the sky, while he proceeded to fill a beloved little black pipe, which invariably constituted his preliminary little breakfast.
Pat Flinders busied himself in blowing up the embers of the fire.
A slight and rapidly eaten meal sufficed to prepare these hardy59 backwoodsmen for their journey, and, long before daybreak illumined the plains, they were far on their way towards the Sawback mountain range.
During the journey of two days, which this trip involved, the botanist seemed to change his character to some extent. He became silent—almost morose60; did not encourage the various efforts made by his companions to draw him into conversation, and frequently rode alone in advance of the party, or occasionally fell behind them.
The day after the stranger had joined them, as they were trotting61 slowly over the plains that lay between the Rangers62 Hill and the Sawbacks, Fred rode close up to Bevan, and said in a low voice, glancing at the botanist, who was in advance—
“I am convinced, Paul, that he is a scoundrel.”
“That may be so, Mr Fred, but what then?”
“Why, then I conclude that he is deceiving us for some purpose of his own.”
“Nonsense,” replied Bevan, who was apt to express himself bluntly, “what purpose can he serve in deceiving strangers like us! We carry no gold-dust and have nothing worth robbing us of, even if he were fool enough to think of attemptin’ such a thing. Then, he can scarcely be deceivin’ us in sayin’ that he met three Redskins carryin’ off a white man—an’ what good could it do him if he is? Besides, he is goin’ out of his way to sarve us.”
“It is impossible for me to answer your question, Paul, but I understand enough of both French and German to know that his broken English is a mere63 sham—a mixture, and a bad one too, of what no German or Frenchman would use—so it’s not likely to be the sort of bad English that a Swede would speak. Moreover, I have caught him once or twice using English words correctly at one time and wrongly at another. No, you may depend on it that, whatever his object may be, he is deceiving us.”
“It’s mesilf as agrees wid ye, sor,” said Flinders, who had been listening attentively64 to the conversation. “The man’s no more a Swede than an Irishman, but what can we do wid oursilves! True or false, he’s ladin’ us in the diriction we want to go, an’ it would do no good to say to him, ‘Ye spalpeen, yer decavin’ of us,’ for he’d only say he wasn’t; or may be he’d cut up rough an’ lave us—but after all, it might be the best way to push him up to that.”
“I think not” said Bevan. “Doesn’t English law say that a man should be held innocent till he’s proved guilty?”
“It’s little I know or care about English law,” answered Flinders, “but I’m sure enough that Irish law howlds a bad man to be guilty till he’s proved innocent—at laste av it dosn’t it should.”
“You’d better go an’ pump him a bit, Mr Fred,” said Bevan; “we’re close up to the Sawback range; another hour an’ we’ll be among the mountains.”
They were turning round the spur of a little hillock as he spoke. Before Fred could reply a small deer sprang from its lair65, cast on the intruders one startled gaze, and then bounded gracefully66 into the bush, too late, however, to escape from Bevan’s deadly rifle. It had barely gone ten yards when a sharp crack was heard; the animal sprang high into the air, and fell dead upon the ground.
“Bad luck to ye, Bevan!” exclaimed Flinders, who had also taken aim at it, but not with sufficient speed, “isn’t that always the way ye do?—plucks the baste67 out o’ me very hand. Sure I had me sights lined on it as straight as could be; wan24 second more an’ I’d have sent a bullet right into its brain, when crack! ye go before me. Och! it’s onkind, to say the laste of it. Why cudn’t ye gi’ me a chance?”
“I’m sorry, Flinders, but I couldn’t well help it. The critter rose right in front o’ me.”
“Vat a goot shote you is!” exclaimed the botanist riding back to them and surveying the prostrate68 deer through his blue spectacles.
“Ay, and it’s a lucky shot too,” said Fred, “for our provisions are running low. But perchance we shan’t want much more food before reaching the Indian camp. You said, I think, that you have a good guess where the camp lies, Mister—what shall we call you?”
“Call me vat you please,” returned the stranger, with a peculiar12 smile; “I is not partickler. Some of me frunds calls me Mr Botaniste.”
“Well, Mr Botanist, the camp cannot be far off now, an’ it seems to me that we should have overtaken men travelling on foot by this time.”
“Ye vill surely come on de tracks dis naight or de morrow,” replied the botanist, riding forward, after Bevan had secured the carcass of the deer to his saddle-bow, “bot ye must have patience, yoong blood be always too hote. All in goot time.”
With this reply Fred was fain to content himself, for no amount of pressure availed to draw anything more satisfactory out of their strange guide.
Before sunset they had penetrated69 some distance into the Sawback range, and then proceeded to make their encampment for the night under the spreading branches of a lordly pine!
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1
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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marshy
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| adj.沼泽的 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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philistines
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| n.市侩，庸人( philistine的名词复数 )；庸夫俗子 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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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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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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diminution
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| n.减少；变小 | |
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heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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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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blandness
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| n.温柔，爽快 | |
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vat
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| n.(=value added tax)增值税，大桶 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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victuals
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| n.食物；食品 | |
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botanist
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| n.植物学家 | |
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allayed
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| v.减轻，缓和( allay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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stews
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| n.炖煮的菜肴( stew的名词复数 )；烦恼，焦虑v.炖( stew的第三人称单数 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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38
betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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41
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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asperity
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| n.粗鲁，艰苦 | |
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43
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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44
slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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45
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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46
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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47
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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48
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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49
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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50
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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51
drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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52
riveted
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| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
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53
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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54
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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56
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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inured
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| adj.坚强的，习惯的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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61
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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rangers
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| 护林者( ranger的名词复数 )； 突击队员 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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67
baste
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| v.殴打，公开责骂 | |
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68
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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