What did it matter, after all? He realized that for twenty-eight years he had made a mess of most of the things he had attempted, and that if he ever got back to civilization, he would probably go diligently2 on in the way he had begun. There was time enough to think about that to-morrow. At present he was so tired that all he wanted was a place to throw his weary limbs. He had penetrated3 miles into the wilderness4, he knew, but in what direction the nearest settlement lay he hadn’t the vaguest notion—to the southward probably, since his guide had borne him steadily5 northward6 for more than two weeks.
That blessed guide! With the omniscience7 of the inexperienced, Gallatin had left Joe Keegón alone at camp after breakfast, with a general and hazy8 notion of whipping[2] unfished trout10 pools. He had disregarded his mentor’s warning to keep his eye on the sun and bear to his left hand, and in the joy of the game, had lost all sense of time and direction. He realized now from his aching legs that he had walked many miles farther than he had wanted to walk, and that, at the last, the fish in his creel had grown perceptibly heavier. The six weeks at Mulready’s had hardened him for the work, but never, even at White Meadows, had his muscles ached as they did now. He was hungry, too, ravenously11 hungry, and a breeze which roamed beneath the pines advised him that it was time to make a fire.
It was a wonderful hunger that he had, a healthful, beastlike hunger—not the gnawing12 fever, for that seemed to have left him, but a craving13 for Joe’s biscuits and bacon (at which he had at first turned up his pampered14 aristocratic nose), which now almost amounted to an obsession15. Good old Joe! Gallatin remembered how, during the first week of their pilgrimage, he had lain like the sluggard16 that he was, against the bole of a tree, weary of the ache within and rebellious17 against the conditions which had sent him forth18, cursing in his heart at the old Indian for his taciturnity, while he watched the skillful brown fingers moving unceasingly at the evening task. Later he had begun to learn with delight of his own growing capabilities19, and as the habit of analysis fell upon him, to understand the dignity of the vast silences of which the man was a part.
Not that Gallatin himself was undignified in the worldly way, for he had lived as his father and his father’s fathers before him had lived, deeply imbued20 with the traditions of his class, which meant large virtues21, civic22 pride, high business integrity, social punctilio, and the only gentlemanly vice23 the Gallatin blood had ever been[3] heir to. But a new idea of nobility had come to him in the woods, a new idea of life itself, which his conquest of his own energy had made possible. The deep aisles24 of the woods had spoken the message, the spell of the silent places, the mystery of the eternal which hung on every lichened26 rock, which sang in every wind that swayed the boughs27 above.
Heigho! This was no time for moralizing. There was a fire to light, a shelter of some sort to build and a bed to make. Gallatin got up wearily, stretching his tired muscles and cast about in search of a spot for his camp. He found two young trees on a high piece of ground within a stone’s throw of the stream, which would serve as supports for a roof of boughs, and was in the act of gathering28 the wood for his fire, when he caught the crackling of a dry twig29 in the bushes at some distance away. Three weeks ago, perhaps, he would not have heard or noticed, but his ear, now trained to the accustomed sounds, gave warning that a living thing, a deer or a black bear, perhaps, was moving in the undergrowth. He put his armful of wood down and hid himself behind a tree, drawing meanwhile an automatic, the only weapon he possessed30, from his hip9 pocket. He had enough of woodcraft to know that no beast of the woods, unless in full flight, would come down against the wind toward a human being, making such a racket as this. The crackling grew louder and the rapid swish of feet in the dry leaves was plainly audible. His eye now caught the movement of branches and in a moment he made out the dim bulk of a figure moving directly toward him. He had even raised the hand which held his Colt and was in the act of aiming it when from the shelter of the moose-wood there emerged—a girl.
She wore a blue flannel31 blouse, a short skirt and long[4] leather gaiters and over one hip hung a creel like his own. Her dress was smart and sportsmanlike, but her hat was gone; her hair had burst its confines and hung in a pitiful confusion about her shoulders. She suggested to him the thought of Syrinx pursued by the satyrs; for her cheeks were flushed with the speed of her flight and her eyes were wide with fear.
Comely32 and frightened Dryads who order their clothes from Fifth Avenue, are not found every day in the heart of the Canadian wilderness; and Gallatin half expected that if he stepped forward like Pan to test her tangibility33, she would vanish into empty air. Indeed such a metamorphosis was about to take place; for as he emerged from behind his tree, the girl turned one terrified look in his direction and disappeared in the bushes.
For a brief moment Gallatin paused. He had had visions before, and the thought came into his mind that this was one like the others, born of his overtaxed strength and the rigors34 of the day. But as he gazed at the spot where the Dryad had stood, branches of young trees swayed, showing the direction in which she was passing and the sounds in the crackling underbrush, ever diminishing, assured him that the sudden apparition35 was no vision at all, but very delectable36 flesh and blood, fleeing from him in terror. He remembered, then, a tale that Joe Keegón had told him of a tenderfoot, who when lost in the woods was stricken suddenly mad with fear and, ended like a frightened animal running away from the guides that had been sent for him. Fear had not come to Gallatin yet. He had acknowledged bewilderment and a vague sense of the monstrous37 vastness of the thing he had chosen for his summer plaything. He had been surprised when the streams began running up hill instead of down, and when the sun appeared suddenly in a new[5] quarter of the heavens, but he had not been frightened. He was too indifferent for that. But he knew from the one brief look he had had of the eyes of the girl, that the forest had mastered her, and that, like the fellow in Joe’s tale, she had stampeded in fright.
Hurriedly locking his Colt, Gallatin plunged38 headlong into the bushes where the girl had disappeared. For a moment he thought he had lost her, for the tangle39 of underbrush was thick and the going rough, but in a rift40 in the bushes he saw the dark blouse again and went forward eagerly. He lost it, found it again and then suddenly saw it no more. He stopped and leaned against a tree listening. There were no sounds but the murmur41 of the rising wind and the note of a bird. He climbed over a fallen log and went on toward the slope where he had last seen her, stopping, listening, his eyes peering from one side to the other. He knew that she could not be far away, for ahead of him the brush was thinner, and the young trees offered little cover. A tiny gorge42, rock strewn, but half filled with leaves, lay before him, and it was not until he had stumbled halfway43 across it that he saw her, lying face downward, her head in her hands, trembling and dumb with fear.
From the position in which she lay he saw that she had caught her foot in a hidden root and, in her mad haste to escape she knew not what, had fallen headlong. She did not move as he approached; but as he bent44 over her about to speak, she shuddered45 and bent her head more deeply in her arms, as though in expectation of a blow.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly.
At the sound of his voice she trembled again, but he leaned over and touched her on the shoulder.
“I’m very sorry I frightened you,” he said again. And then after a moment, “Have you lost your way?”
[6]
She painfully freed one arm, and looked up; then quickly buried her head again in her hands, her shoulders heaving convulsively, her slender body racked by childish sobs46.
Gallatin straightened in some confusion. He had never, to his knowledge, been considered a bugaboo among the women of his acquaintance. But, as he rubbed his chin pensively47, he remembered that it was a week or more since he had had a shave, and that a stiff dark stubble discolored his chin. His brown slouch hat was broken and dirty, his blue flannel shirt from contact with the briers was tattered48 and worn, and he realized that he was hardly an object to inspire confidence in the heart of a frightened girl. So, with a discretion49 which did credit to his knowledge of her sex, he sat down on a near-by rock and waited for the storm to pass.
His patience was rewarded, for in a little while her sobs were spent, and she raised her head and glanced at him. This time his appearance reassured50 her, for Gallatin had taken off his hat, and his eyes, no longer darkly mysterious in shadow, were looking at her very kindly51.
“I want to try and help you, if I can,” he was saying gently. “I’m about to make a camp over here, and if you’ll join me——”
Something in the tones of his voice and in his manner of expressing himself, caused her to sit suddenly up and examine him more minutely. When she had done so, her hands made two graceful52 gestures—one toward her disarranged hair and the other toward her disarranged skirt. Gallatin would have laughed at this instinctive53 manifestation54 of the eternal feminine, which even in direst woe55 could not altogether be forgotten, but instead he only smiled, for after all she looked so childishly forlorn and unhappy.
[7]
“I’m not really going to eat you, you know,” he said again, smiling.
“I—I’m glad,” she stammered56 with a queer little smile. “I didn’t know what you were. I’m afraid I—I’ve been very much frightened.”
“You were lost, weren’t you?”
“Yes.” She struggled to her knees and then sank back again.
“Well, there’s really nothing to be frightened about. It’s almost too late to try to find your friends to-night, but if you’ll come with me I’ll do my best to make you comfortable.”
He had risen and offered her his hand, but when she tried to rise she winced57 with pain.
“I—I’m afraid I can’t,” she said. “I think I—I’ve twisted my ankle.”
“Oh, that’s awkward,” in concern. “Does it hurt you very much?”
“I—I think it does. I can’t seem to use it at all.” She moved her foot and her face grew white with the pain of it.
Gallatin looked around him vaguely58, as though in expectation that Joe Keegón or somebody else might miraculously59 appear to help him, and then for the first time since he had seen her, was alive again to the rigors of his own predicament.
“I’m awfully60 sorry,” he stammered helplessly. “Don’t you think you can stand on it?”
He offered her his hand and shoulder and she bravely tried to rise, but the effort cost her pain and with a little cry she sank back in the leaves, her face buried in her arms. She seemed so small, so helpless that his heart was filled with a very genuine pity. She was not crying now, but the hand which held her moist handkerchief was[8] so tightly clenched61 that her knuckles62 were outlined in white against the tan. He watched her a moment in silence, his mind working rapidly.
“Come,” he said at last in quick cheerful notes of decision. “This won’t do at all. We’ve got to get out of here. You must take that shoe off. Then we’ll get you over yonder and you can bathe it in the stream. Try and get your gaiter off, too, won’t you?”
His peremptory63 accents startled her a little, but she sat up obediently while he supported her shoulders, and wincing64 again as she moved, at last undid65 her legging. Gallatin then drew his hasp-knife and carefully slit66 the laces of her shoe from top to bottom, succeeding in getting it safely off.
“Your ankle is swelling,” he said. “You must bathe it at once.”
She looked around helplessly.
“Where?”
“At the stream. I’m going to carry you there.”
“You couldn’t. Is it far?”
“No. Only a hundred yards or so. Come along.”
He bent over to silence her protests and lifted her by the armpits. Then while she supported herself for a moment upright, lifted her in his arms and made his way up the slope.
Marvelous is the recuperative power of the muscular system! Ten minutes ago Gallatin had been, to all intents and purposes of practical utility, at the point of exhaustion67. Now, without heart-breaking effort, he found it possible to carry a burden of one hundred and thirty pounds a considerable distance through rough timber without mishap68! His muscles ached no more than they had done before, and the only thing he could think of just[9] then was that she was absurdly slender to weigh so much. One of her arms encircled his shoulders and the fingers of one small brown hand clutched tightly at the collar of his shirt. Her eyes peered before her into the brush, and her face was almost hidden by the tangled69 mass of her hair. But into the pale cheek which was just visible, a gentle color was rising which matched the rosy70 glow that was spreading over the heavens.
“I’m afraid I—I’m awfully heavy,” she said, as he made his way around the fallen giant over which a short while ago they had both clambered. “Don’t you think I had better get down for a moment?”
“Oh, no,” he panted. “Not at all. It—it isn’t far now. I’m afraid you’d hurt your foot. Does it—does it pain you so much now?”
“N-o, I think not,” she murmured bravely. “But I’m afraid you’re dreadfully tired.”
“N-not at all,” he stammered. “We’ll be there soon now.”
When he came to the spot he had marked for his camp, he bore to the right and in a moment they had reached the stream which gushed71 musically among the boulders72, half hidden in the underbrush. It was not until he had carefully chosen a place for her that he consented to put her on the ground. Then with a knee on the bank and a foot in the stream, he lowered her gently to a mossy bank within reach of the water.
“You’re very kind,” she whispered, her cheeks flaming as she looked up at him. “I’m awfully sorry.”
“Nothing of the sort,” he laughed. “I’d have let you carry me—if you could.” And then, with the hurried air of a man who has much to do: “You take off your stocking and dangle73 your foot in the water. Wiggle[10] your toes if you can and then try to rub the blood into your ankle. I’m going to build a fire and cook some fish. Are you hungry?”
“I don’t know. I—I think I am.”
“Good!” he said smiling pleasantly. “We’ll have supper in a minute.”
He was turning to go, when she questioned: “You spoke25 of a camp. Is—is it near here?”
“N-o. It isn’t,” he hesitated, “but it soon will be.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
He laughed. “Well, you see, the fact of the matter is, I’m lost, too. I don’t think it’s anything to be very much frightened about, though. I left my guide early this morning at the fork of two streams a pretty long distance from here. I’ve been walking hard all day. I fished up one of the streams for half of the day and then cut across through the forest where I thought I would find it again. I found a stream but it seems it wasn’t the same one, for after I had gone down it for an hour or so I didn’t seem to get anywhere. Then I plunged around hunting and at last had to give it up.”
“Don’t you think you could find it again?”
“Oh, I think so,” confidently. “But not to-night. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with what I can offer you.”
“Of course—and I’m very grateful—but I’m sorry to be such a burden to you.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense.” He turned away abruptly74 and made his way up the bank. “I’m right here in the trees and I can hear you. So if I can help you I want you to call.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, “I will.”
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1
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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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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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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omniscience
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| n.全知，全知者，上帝 | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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ravenously
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| adv.大嚼地，饥饿地 | |
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gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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14
pampered
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| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
obsession
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| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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sluggard
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| n.懒人；adj.懒惰的 | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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capabilities
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| n.能力( capability的名词复数 )；可能；容量；[复数]潜在能力 | |
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imbued
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| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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civic
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| adj.城市的，都市的，市民的，公民的 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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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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lichened
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| adj.长满地衣的，长青苔的 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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tangibility
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| n.确切性 | |
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rigors
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| 严格( rigor的名词复数 )； 严酷； 严密； （由惊吓或中毒等导致的身体）僵直 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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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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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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rift
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| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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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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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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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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45
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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discretion
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| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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51
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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52
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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53
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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54
manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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55
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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56
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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59
miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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61
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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63
peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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64
wincing
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的现在分词 ) | |
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Undid
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| v. 解开, 复原 | |
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66
slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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67
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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68
mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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69
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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70
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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71
gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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72
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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73
dangle
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| v.(使)悬荡，(使)悬垂 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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