He never knew whether he really fainted or whether it was merely a kind of stupor2 brought on by so many hours of battle and fierce excitement, but when he opened his eyes again much time had passed. The sun was far down in the west and the dusky shadows were advancing. Over the low hill where Custer had made his last stand the Sioux swarmed3, scalping until they could scalp no more. Behind them came thousands of women and boys, shouting from excitement and the drunkenness of victory.
It was all incredible, unreal to Dick, some hideous5 nightmare that would soon pass away when he awoke. Such a thing as this could not be! Yet it was real, it was credible4, he was awake and he had seen it—he had seen it all from the moment that the first trooper appeared in the valley until the last fell under the overwhelming charge of the Sioux. He still heard, in the waning6 afternoon, their joyous7 cries over their great victory, and he saw their dusky forms as they rushed here and there over the field in search of some new trophy8.
Dick was not conscious of any physical feeling at all—neither weariness, nor fear, nor thought of the future. It seemed to him that the world had come to an end with the ending of the day.
The shadows thickened and advanced. The west was a sea of dusk. The distant lodges10 of the village passed out of sight. The battlefield itself became dim and it was only phantom11 figures that roamed over it. All the while Dick was unnoticed, forgotten in the great event, and as the night approached the desire for freedom returned to him. He was again a physical being, feeling pain, and from habit rather than hope he pulled once more at the rawhide12 cords that held his wrists—he did not know that he had been tugging13 at them nearly all afternoon.
He wrenched14 hard and the unbelievable happened. The rawhide, strained upon so long, parted, and his hands fell to his side. Dick slowly raised his right wrist to the level of his eyes and looked at it, as if it belonged to another man. There was a red and bleeding ring around it where the rawhide had cut deep, making a scar that took a year in the fading, but his numbed15 nerves still felt no pain.
He let the right wrist sink back and raised the left one. It had the same red ring around it, and he looked at it curiously17, wonderingly. Then he let the left also drop to his side, while he stood, back against the tree, looking vaguely18 at the dim figures of the Sioux who roamed about in the late twilight19 still in that hideous search for trophies20.
It was while he was looking at the Sioux that an abrupt21 thought came to Dick. Those were his own wrists at which he had been looking. His hands were free! Why not escape in all this turmoil22 and excitement, with the friendly and covering night also at hand. It was like the touch of electricity. He was instantly alive, body and mind. He knew who he was and what had happened, and he wanted to get away. Now was the time!
The rawhide around Dick's waist was strong and it had been secured with many knots. He picked at it slowly and with greatest care, and all the time he was in fear lest the Sioux should remember him. But the sun was now quite down, the last bars of red and gold were gone, and the east as well as the west was in darkness. The field of battle was hidden and only voices came up from it. Two warriors24 passed on the slope of the hill and Dick, ceasing his work, shrank against the trunk of the tree, but they went on, and when they were out of sight he began again to pick at the knots.
One knot after another was unloosed, and at last the rawhide fell from his waist. He was free, but he staggered as he walked a little way down the slope of the hill and his fingers were numb16. Yet his mind was wholly clear. It had recovered from the great paralytic25 shock caused by the sight of the lost battle, and he intended to take every precaution needed for escape.
He sat down in a little clump26 of bushes, where he was quite lost to view, and rubbed his limbs long and hard until the circulation was active. His wrists had stopped bleeding, and he bound about them little strips that he tore from his clothing. Then he threw away his cap—the Sioux did not wear caps, and he meant to look as much like a Sioux as he could. That was not such a difficult matter, as he was dressed in tanned skins, and wind and weather had made him almost as brown as an Indian.
Midway of the slope he stopped and looked down. The night had come, but the stars were not yet out. He could see only the near lodges, but many torches flared27 now over the battle field and in the village. He started again, bearing away from the hill on which Custer had fallen, but pursuing a course that led chiefly downstream. Once he saw dusky figures, but they took no notice of him. Once a hideous old squaw, carrying some terrible trophy in her hand, passed near, and Dick thought that all was lost. He was really more afraid at this time of the sharp eyes of the old squaws than those of the warriors. But she passed on, and Dick dropped down into a little ravine that ran from the field. His feet touched a tiny stream that trickled28 at the bottom of the ravine, and he leaped away in shuddering29 horror. The soles of his mocassins were now red.
But he made progress. He was leaving the village farther behind, and the hum of voices was not so loud. One of his greatest wishes now was to find arms. He did not intend to be recaptured, and if the Sioux came upon him he wanted at least to make a fight.
A dark shape among some short bushes attracted his attention. It looked like the form of a man, and when he went closer he saw that it was the body of a Sioux warrior23, slain30 by a distant bullet from Custer's circle. His carbine lay beside him and he wore an ammunition31 belt full of cartridges32. Dick, without hesitation33, took both, and felt immensely strengthened. The touch of the rifle gave him new courage. He was a man now ready to meet men.
He reached another low hill and stood there a little while, listening. He heard an occasional whoop34, and may lights flared here and there in the village, but no warrior was near. He saw on one side of him the high hill, at the base of which the first cavalrymen had appeared, and around which the army had ridden a little later to its fate. Dick was seized with a sudden unreasoning hatred35 of the hill itself, standing36 there black and lowering in the darkness. He shook his fist at it, and then, ashamed of his own folly37, hurried his flight.
Everything was aiding him now. If any chance befell, that chance was in his favor. Swiftly he left behind the field of battle, the great Indian village, and all the sights and sounds of that fatal day, which would remain stamped on his brain as long as he lived. He did not stop until he was beyond the hills inclosing the valley, and then he bent38 back again toward the Little Big Horn. He intended to cross the river and return toward the village on the other side, having some dim idea that he might find and rescue Albert.
Dick was now in total silence. The moon and the stars were not yet out, but he had grown used to the darkness and he could see the low hills, the straggling trees, and the clumps39 of undergrowth. He was absolutely alone again, but when he closed his eyes he saw once more with all the vividness of reality that terrible battle field, the closing in of the circle of death, the last great rush of the Sioux horde40, and the blotting41 out of the white force. He still heard the unbroken crash of the rifle fire that had continued for hours, and the yelling of the Sioux that rose and fell.
But when he opened his eyes the silence became painful, it was so heavy and oppressive. He felt lonely and afraid, more afraid than he had even been for himself while the battle was in progress. It seemed to him that he was pursued by the ghosts of the fallen, and he longed for the company of his own race.
Dick was not conscious of hunger or fatigue42. His nerves were still keyed too high to remember such things, and now he turned down to the Little Big Horn. Remembering the terrible quicksand, he tried the bank very gingerly before he stepped into the water. It was sandy, but it held him, and then he waded43 in boldly, holding his rifle and belt of cartridges above his head. He knew that the river was not deep, but it came to his waist here, and once he stepped into a hole to his armpits, but he kept the rifle and cartridges dry. The waters were extremely cold, but Dick did not know it, and when he reached the desired shore he shook himself like a dog until the drops flew and then began the perilous44 task of returning to the village on the side farthest from Custer's battle.
He went carefully along the low, wooded shores, keeping well in the undergrowth, which was dense45, and for an hour he heard and saw nothing of the Sioux. He knew why. They were still rejoicing over their great victory, and although he knew little of Indian customs he believed that the scalp dance must be in progress.
The moon and stars came out. A dark-blue sky, troubled by occasional light clouds, bent over him. He began at last to feel the effects of the long strain, mental and physical. His clothes were nearly dry on him, but for the first time he felt cold and weak. He went on, nevertheless; he had no idea of stopping even if he were forced to crawl.
He reached the crest46 of a low hill and looked down again on the Indian village, but from a point far from the hill on which he had stood during the battle. He saw many lights, torches and camp fires, and now and then dusky figures moving against the background of the flames, and then a great despair overtook him. To rescue Albert would be in itself difficult enough, but how was he ever to find him in that huge village, five miles long?
He did not permit his despair to last long. He would make the trial in some manner, how he did not yet know, but he must make it. He descended47 the low hill and entered a clump of bushes about fifty yards from the banks of the Little Big Horn. Here he stopped and quickly sank down. He had heard a rustling48 at the far edge of the clump, and he was sure, too, that he had seen a shadowy figure. The figure had disappeared instantly, but Dick was confident that a Sioux warrior was hidden in the bushes not ten yards away.
It was his first impulse to retreat as silently as he could, but the impulse swiftly gave way to a fierce anger. He remembered that he carried a rifle and plenty of cartridges, and he was seized with a sudden vague belief that he might strike a blow in revenge for the terrible loss of the day. It could be but a little blow, he could strike down only one, but he was resolved to do it—he had been through what few boys are ever compelled to see and endure, and his mind was not in its normal state.
He turned himself now into an Indian, crawling and creeping with deadly caution through the bushes, exercising an infinite patience that he might make no leaf or twig49 rustle50, and now and then looking carefully over the tops of the bushes to see that his enemy had not fled. As he advanced he held his rifle well forward, that he might take instant aim when the time came.
Dick was a full ten minutes in traveling ten yards, and then he saw the dark figure of the warrior crouched51 low in the bushes. The Sioux had not seen him and was watching for his approach from some other point. The figure was dim, but Dick slowly raised his rifle and took careful aim at the head. His finger reached the trigger, but when it got there it refused to obey his will. He was not a savage52; he was white, with the civilized53 blood of many generations, and he could not shoot down an enemy whose back was turned to him. But he maintained his aim, and using some old expression that he had heard he cried, "Throw up your hands!"
The crouching54 figure sprang to its feet, and a remembered voice exclaimed in overwhelming surprise and delight:
"Dick! Dick! Is that you, Dick?"
Dick dropped the muzzle55 of his rifle and stared. He could not take it in for the moment. It was Albert—a ragged56, dirty, pale, and tired Albert, but a real live Albert just the same.
The brothers stared at each other by the same impulse, and then by the same impulse rushed forward, grasped each other's hands, wringing57 them and shouting aloud for joy.
"Is it you, Al? How on earth did you ever get here?"
"Is it you, Dick? Where on earth did you come from?"
They sat down in the bushes, both still trembling with excitement and the relief from suspense58, and Dick told of the fatal day, how he had been bound to the tree on the hill, and how he had seen all the battle, from its beginning to the end, when no white soldier was left alive.
"Every one," replied Dick. "There was a ring of fire and steel around them through which no man could break. But they were brave, Al, they were brave! They beat off the thousands of that awful horde for hours and hours."
"Who led them?"
"I don't know. I had no way of knowing, but it was a gallant60 man with long yellow hair. I saw him with his hat off, waving it to encourage his men. Now tell me, Al, how you got here."
"When they seized us," replied Albert, "they carried me, kicking and fighting as best I could, up the river. I made up my mind that I'd never see you again, Dick, as I was sure that they'd kill you right away. I expected them to finish me up, too, soon, but they didn't. I suppose it was because they were busy with bigger things.
"They pushed me along for at least two miles. Then they crossed the river, shoved me into a bark lodge9, and fastened the door on me. They didn't take the trouble to bind61 me, feeling sure, I suppose, that I couldn't get out of the lodge and the village, too; and I certainly wouldn't have had any chance to do it if a battle hadn't begun after I had been there a long time in the darkness of the lodge. I thought at first that it was the Sioux firing at targets, but then it became too heavy and there was too much shouting.
"The firing went on a long time, and I pulled and kicked for an hour at the lodge door. Because no one came, no matter how much noise I made, I knew that something big was going on, and I worked all the harder. When I looked out at last, I saw many warriors running up and down and great clouds of smoke. I sneaked62 out, got into a smoke bank just as a Sioux shot at me, lay down in a little ravine, after a while jumped up and ran again through the smoke, and reached the bushes, where I lay hidden flat on my face until the night came. While I was there I heard the firing die down and saw our men driven off after being cut up badly."
"It's awful! awful!" groaned63 Dick. "I didn't know there were so many Sioux in the world, and maybe our generals didn't, either. That must have been the trouble."
"When the darkness set in good," resumed Albert. "I started to run. I knew that no Sioux were bothering about me then, but I tell you that I made tracks, Dick. I had no arms, and I didn't know where I was going; but I meant to leave those Sioux some good miles behind. After a while I got back part of my courage, and then I came back here to look around for you, thinking you might have just such a chance as I did."
"Brave old Al," said Dick.
"You came, too."
"I was armed and you were not."
"It comes to the same thing, and you did have the chance."
"Yes, and we're together again. We've been saved once more, Al, when the others have fallen. Now the thing for us to do is to get away from here as fast as we can. Which way do you think those troops on your side of the village retreated?"
Albert extended his finger toward a point on the dusky horizon.
"Off there somewhere," he replied.
"Then we'll follow them. Come on."
The two left the bushes and entered the hills.
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收听单词发音
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1
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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credible
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| adj.可信任的，可靠的 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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lodges
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| v.存放( lodge的第三人称单数 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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rawhide
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| n.生牛皮 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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14
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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21
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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25
paralytic
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| adj. 瘫痪的 n. 瘫痪病人 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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28
trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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29
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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30
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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31
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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33
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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34
whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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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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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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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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39
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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40
horde
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| n.群众，一大群 | |
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41
blotting
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| 吸墨水纸 | |
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42
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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43
waded
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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45
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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46
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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47
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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48
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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49
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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50
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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51
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
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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53
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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54
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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55
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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56
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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58
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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59
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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61
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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62
sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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63
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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