"I expected much colder weather here," he remarked, as they were eating their breakfast of oatmeal, ham, biscuits, and coffee. "We must hurry, or the snow will melt under our sleds."
"Oh, there's no fear of that yet," said Uncle Will, reassuringly1. "You see, we still get the influence of the Japanese current of the Pacific, which warms this whole coast. We shall find it colder in the interior. At the same time, we have a long distance to go, and the warm weather will be upon us all too soon. Let me see, this is the sixteenth of March. To-day I must take a sail-boat, and go over to Skagway for a sled. It's hardly possible that I can return until late to-morrow, with the best of luck."
"Can we do anything to hasten matters in the mean time?" asked Mr. Bradford.
[48]
"Yes," replied his brother. "To-day you and the boys might take the axes and hatchets2 to the cannery and have them ground. It's a great saving of time and labor3 to have the edged tools sharp. Long Peter will look after the camp while you are gone. And to-morrow I advise you to hire that Indian's canoe again, and take everything but the tents to the cave about three miles above here. Peter knows where it is. If the Mysterious Thirty-six are camped there, you can leave the goods a little this side and cover them with oiled canvas."
Immediately after breakfast, in pursuance of these plans, the whole party except the Indian, made their way along the beach to the cannery, where Uncle Will was fortunate enough to secure the services of a boatman just arrived in his sloop4 from Chilkat across the harbor. The breeze was favorable, and the little vessel5 was presently speeding along the south shore, soon passing out of sight around the point.
The grinding of the axes occupied an hour or more, after which the three walked over to the Indian village, where they were given a noisy welcome by a score of dogs. The houses were rude affairs, built of hewn boards and logs, but affording much better shelter than the wigwams which the boys had always associated with Indian life. They had seen a few wigwams near the railroad in the State of Washington, but here there were none. In attire6, too, these Indians seemed to have copied the[49] white people. Two or three women who were cooking fish outside of one of the larger houses, wore neat hoods7, dresses and shoes, but others had greasy8 red handkerchiefs tied over their heads, and wore torn moccasins and dilapidated skirts.
"I wonder," said David, "if it is true that the Indian women do all the work. I have heard so."
"No," answered Mr. Bradford, "the men hunt and fish, and work for the whites on the trails, but the women do all the domestic drudgery9, even to the cutting of the firewood. The men have rather the best of it, for they enjoy a variety and are idle about half the time, while the work of the women never ceases. It's a good deal the same, however, the world over. I have been in parts of Europe where the wives worked in the fields, and even dug cellars for new buildings, while their husbands, I presume, were engaged in the sterner but less wearing duties of army life. Here comes a poor old drudge10 now."
The boys looked in the direction indicated, and saw an old squaw staggering along toward the village, with a heavy spruce log on her shoulder. She had brought it a quarter of a mile from the hillside back of the cannery. While they watched her, they saw her slip on a bit of icy ground and fall, the log fortunately rolling to one side. With one quick impulse David and Roly ran to help her.
[50]
She had risen to her feet as they approached, and was making ineffectual efforts to raise the log. The boys picked it up in a twinkling,—it was not much of a load for them,—and having settled it firmly on their shoulders, they looked inquiringly at the woman, who appeared much surprised at their action, and indeed seemed to fear that they were going to make off with their prize. David, however, motioned to her to go ahead, and gave her to understand that they would follow. In this manner they reached a small cabin a few rods distant, where the log was dropped on a pile of chips near the door.
An old Indian sat on a stump11 beside the house, smoking his pipe complacently12. He had witnessed the whole proceeding13, but had not offered to lift a finger to help his poor old wife, much to the indignation of the brothers.
Mr. Bradford warmly commended his sons when they returned, adding, "I'm glad to see you differed from the old native yonder, who was ashamed to do a woman's work."
"We didn't stop to think much about it," said Roly, "but I guess we should have helped her just the same if we had."
They returned to camp about noon, and Mr. Bradford prepared the dinner, as Long Peter was not a competent cook. In the preparation of fish and game the Chilkat was an expert, but such dainties as hot biscuits, baked in Uncle Will's Yukon stove, were beyond his powers,[51] and an omelet of crystallized eggs caused him to open his mouth, not only in expectation, but in astonishment14.
After dinner David and Roly were intending to visit the railroad excavation15, a quarter of a mile beyond the camp, on the northwest shore of the harbor. A dozen men were cutting through a strip of high land which crossed the line of the proposed road. The work had been going on but a few days, during which the trees had been cleared away, and the snow and earth removed from the underlying16 rock. It was the intention of the capitalists, so the cannery watchman had informed the boys, to extend the railroad clear to Dawson along the line of the Dalton trail, but he doubted if they would ever complete it, for a rival road was being constructed from Skagway. The excavation was plainly visible from the Bradfords' camp.
"Hurry up, Roly," shouted David, who was eager to start. "The workmen are all in a bunch up there in the hole."
Roly hastily swallowed the remnants of a biscuit, and finished a cup of tea which he had set in a snowbank to cool. Then he ran down to the beach where David stood. The workmen were now seen to leave the spot where they had been collected. They walked rapidly to their shanty17, which stood not far from the hole, and one man who had not started with the others came running after them.
[52]
"I believe they are going to fire a blast," said David, and called his father and Long Peter to come and see the explosion.
All the workmen had now taken shelter behind their shanty, and they were none too soon. A great cloud of earth and smoke, mingled18 with fragments of rock and timbers, puffed19 suddenly out from the bank, followed by a mighty20 detonation21 that echoed from peak to peak of the neighboring mountains. A moment later the Bradfords heard two or three stones strike around them.
Mr. Bradford instantly realized that, great as the distance was, they were not out of danger. As he turned to warn the boys, there was a thud and a cry, and Roly sank to the beach, pressing his hand to his chest.
In a twinkling his father and David were at his side. The poor boy could not speak, but moaned faintly once or twice. His face was white, and he hardly seemed to breathe, but retained his consciousness. They lifted him tenderly and laid him in the large tent, where Mr. Bradford gave him brandy, felt his pulse, and then unbuttoned the heavy Mackinaw overcoat, the inner coat, and the underclothing. As he bared the boy's breast, he could not restrain an exclamation22 of surprise and pity. Through all that thick clothing the stone had left its mark,—a great red bruise23 on the fair skin, and so great was the swelling24 that he feared a rib25 had been broken. Such happily was not the case, and Mr. Bradford[53] heaved a sigh of relief as soon as he had satisfied himself on that point.
"It—it knocked the wind out of me," said Roly, faintly, when at last he could speak.
"I should think it would have," said Mr. Bradford, with emphasis. "It would have killed you if it had struck you on the other side or in the head. Thank God it was no worse!"
Long Peter, who had been poking26 around on the beach where Roly had stood, came up to the tent with a fragment of rock, which he handed to Mr. Bradford. It was the mischief-maker without a doubt. One side was smoothly27 rounded, but the other was rough and jagged, showing that it had been violently broken from the parent rock. It was but half as large as a man's fist, and Roly found great difficulty in believing that so small a stone could have dealt such a blow.
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1
reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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2
hatchets
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| n.短柄小斧( hatchet的名词复数 )；恶毒攻击；诽谤；休战 | |
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3
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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sloop
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| n.单桅帆船 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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6
attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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7
hoods
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| n.兜帽( hood的名词复数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩v.兜帽( hood的第三人称单数 )；头巾；（汽车、童车等的）折合式车篷；汽车发动机罩 | |
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8
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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9
drudgery
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| n.苦工，重活，单调乏味的工作 | |
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drudge
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| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
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11
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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12
complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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13
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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14
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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excavation
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| n.挖掘，发掘；被挖掘之地 | |
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underlying
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| adj.在下面的，含蓄的，潜在的 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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18
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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detonation
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| n.爆炸；巨响 | |
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22
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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23
bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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24
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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rib
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| n.肋骨，肋状物 | |
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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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27
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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