“Sacredam,” the Frenchman said softly, flirting5 the quick blood from his bitten hand and gazing down on the little puppy choking and gasping6 in the snow.
Leclère turned to John Hamlin, storekeeper of the Sixty Mile Post. “Dat fo’ w’at Ah lak heem. ‘Ow moch, eh, you, M’sieu’? ‘Ow moch? Ah buy heem, now; Ah buy heem queek.”
And because he hated him with an exceeding bitter hate, Leclère bought Bâtard and gave him his shameful name. And for five years the twain adventured across the Northland, from St. Michael’s and the Yukon delta7 to the head-reaches of the Pelly and even so far as the Peace River, Athabasca, and the Great Slave. And they acquired a reputation for uncompromising wickedness, the like of which never before attached itself to man and dog.
Bâtard did not know his father—hence his name—but, as John Hamlin knew, his father was a great grey timber wolf. But the mother of Bâtard, as he dimly remembered her, was snarling9, bickering10, obscene, husky, full-fronted and heavy-chested, with a malign11 eye, a cat-like grip on life, and a genius for trickery and evil. There was neither faith nor trust in her. Her treachery alone could be relied upon, and her wild-wood amours attested13 her general depravity. Much of evil and much of strength were there in these, Bâtard’s progenitors14, and, bone and flesh of their bone and flesh, he had inherited it all. And then came Black Leclère, to lay his heavy hand on the bit of pulsating15 puppy life, to press and prod16 and mould till it became a big bristling17 beast, acute in knavery18, overspilling with hate, sinister19, malignant20, diabolical21. With a proper master Bâtard might have made an ordinary, fairly efficient sled-dog. He never got the chance: Leclère but confirmed him in his congenital iniquity22.
The history of Bâtard and Leclère is a history of war—of five cruel, relentless23 years, of which their first meeting is fit summary. To begin with, it was Leclère’s fault, for he hated with understanding and intelligence, while the long-legged, ungainly puppy hated only blindly, instinctively24, without reason or method. At first there were no refinements25 of cruelty (these were to come later), but simple beatings and crude brutalities. In one of these Bâtard had an ear injured. He never regained26 control of the riven muscles, and ever after the ear drooped27 limply down to keep keen the memory of his tormentor28. And he never forgot.
His puppyhood was a period of foolish rebellion. He was always worsted, but he fought back because it was his nature to fight back. And he was unconquerable. Yelping30 shrilly31 from the pain of lash32 and club, he none the less contrived33 always to throw in the defiant34 snarl, the bitter vindictive35 menace of his soul which fetched without fail more blows and beatings. But his was his mother’s tenacious36 grip on life. Nothing could kill him. He flourished under misfortune, grew fat with famine, and out of his terrible struggle for life developed a preternatural intelligence. His were the stealth and cunning of the husky, his mother, and the fierceness and valour of the wolf, his father.
Possibly it was because of his father that he never wailed37. His puppy yelps38 passed with his lanky39 legs, so that he became grim and taciturn, quick to strike, slow to warn. He answered curse with snarl, and blow with snap, grinning the while his implacable hatred40; but never again, under the extremest agony, did Leclère bring from him the cry of fear nor of pain. This unconquerableness but fanned Leclère’s wrath41 and stirred him to greater deviltries.
Did Leclère give Bâtard half a fish and to his mates whole ones, Bâtard went forth42 to rob other dogs of their fish. Also he robbed caches and expressed himself in a thousand rogueries, till he became a terror to all dogs and masters of dogs. Did Leclère beat Bâtard and fondle Babette—Babette who was not half the worker he was—why, Bâtard threw her down in the snow and broke her hind43 leg in his heavy jaws44, so that Leclère was forced to shoot her. Likewise, in bloody45 battles, Bâtard mastered all his team-mates, set them the law of trail and forage46, and made them live to the law he set.
In five years he heard but one kind word, received but one soft stroke of a hand, and then he did not know what manner of things they were. He leaped like the untamed thing he was, and his jaws were together in a flash. It was the missionary47 at Sunrise, a newcomer in the country, who spoke48 the kind word and gave the soft stroke of the hand. And for six months after, he wrote no letters home to the States, and the surgeon at McQuestion travelled two hundred miles on the ice to save him from blood-poisoning.
Men and dogs looked askance at Bâtard when he drifted into their camps and posts. The men greeted him with feet threateningly lifted for the kick, the dogs with bristling manes and bared fangs. Once a man did kick Bâtard, and Bâtard, with quick wolf snap, closed his jaws like a steel trap on the man’s calf49 and crunched50 down to the bone. Whereat the man was determined51 to have his life, only Black Leclère, with ominous52 eyes and naked hunting-knife, stepped in between. The killing53 of Bâtard—ah, sacredam, that was a pleasure Leclère reserved for himself. Some day it would happen, or else—bah! who was to know? Anyway, the problem would be solved.
For they had become problems to each other. The very breath each drew was a challenge and a menace to the other. Their hate bound them together as love could never bind54. Leclère was bent55 on the coming of the day when Bâtard should wilt56 in spirit and cringe and whimper at his feet. And Bâtard—Leclère knew what was in Bâtard’s mind, and more than once had read it in Bâtard’s eyes. And so clearly had he read, that when Bâtard was at his back, he made it a point to glance often over his shoulder.
Men marvelled58 when Leclère refused large money for the dog. “Some day you’ll kill him and be out his price,” said John Hamlin once, when Bâtard lay panting in the snow where Leclère had kicked him, and no one knew whether his ribs59 were broken, and no one dared look to see.
“Dat,” said Leclère, dryly, “dat is my biz’ness, M’sieu’.”
And the men marvelled that Bâtard did not run away. They did not understand. But Leclère understood. He was a man who lived much in the open, beyond the sound of human tongue, and he had learned the voices of wind and storm, the sigh of night, the whisper of dawn, the clash of day. In a dim way he could hear the green things growing, the running of the sap, the bursting of the bud. And he knew the subtle speech of the things that moved, of the rabbit in the snare61, the moody62 raven63 beating the air with hollow wing, the baldface shuffling64 under the moon, the wolf like a grey shadow gliding65 betwixt the twilight66 and the dark. And to him Bâtard spoke clear and direct. Full well he understood why Bâtard did not run away, and he looked more often over his shoulder.
When in anger, Bâtard was not nice to look upon, and more than once had he leapt for Leclère’s throat, to be stretched quivering and senseless in the snow, by the butt67 of the ever ready dogwhip. And so Bâtard learned to bide68 his time. When he reached his full strength and prime of youth, he thought the time had come. He was broad-chested, powerfully muscled, of far more than ordinary size, and his neck from head to shoulders was a mass of bristling hair—to all appearances a full-blooded wolf. Leclère was lying asleep in his furs when Bâtard deemed the time to be ripe. He crept upon him stealthily, head low to earth and lone12 ear laid back, with a feline69 softness of tread. Bâtard breathed gently, very gently, and not till he was close at hand did he raise his head. He paused for a moment and looked at the bronzed bull throat, naked and knotty70, and swelling71 to a deep steady pulse. The slaver dripped down his fangs and slid off his tongue at the sight, and in that moment he remembered his drooping72 ear, his uncounted blows and prodigious73 wrongs, and without a sound sprang on the sleeping man.
Leclère awoke to the pang74 of the fangs in his throat, and, perfect animal that he was, he awoke clear-headed and with full comprehension. He closed on Bâtard’s windpipe with both his hands, and rolled out of his furs to get his weight uppermost. But the thousands of Bâtard’s ancestors had clung at the throats of unnumbered moose and caribou75 and dragged them down, and the wisdom of those ancestors was his. When Leclère’s weight came on top of him, he drove his hind legs upwards76 and in, and clawed down chest and abdomen77, ripping and tearing through skin and muscle. And when he felt the man’s body wince78 above him and lift, he worried and shook at the man’s throat. His team-mates closed around in a snarling circle, and Bâtard, with failing breath and fading sense, knew that their jaws were hungry for him. But that did not matter—it was the man, the man above him, and he ripped and clawed, and shook and worried, to the last ounce of his strength. But Leclère choked him with both his hands, till Bâtard’s chest heaved and writhed79 for the air denied, and his eyes glazed81 and set, and his jaws slowly loosened, and his tongue protruded82 black and swollen83.
“Eh? Bon, you devil!” Leclère gurgled mouth and throat clogged84 with his own blood, as he shoved the dizzy dog from him.
And then Leclère cursed the other dogs off as they fell upon Bâtard. They drew back into a wider circle, squatting85 alertly on their haunches and licking their chops, the hair on every neck bristling and erect86.
Bâtard recovered quickly, and at sound of Leclère’s voice, tottered87 to his feet and swayed weakly back and forth.
“A-h-ah! You beeg devil!” Leclère spluttered. “Ah fix you; Ah fix you plentee, by Gar!”
Bâtard, the air biting into his exhausted88 lungs like wine, flashed full into the man’s face, his jaws missing and coming together with a metallic89 clip. They rolled over and over on the snow, Leclère striking madly with his fists. Then they separated, face to face, and circled back and forth before each other. Leclère could have drawn90 his knife. His rifle was at his feet. But the beast in him was up and raging. He would do the thing with his hands—and his teeth. Bâtard sprang in, but Leclère knocked him over with a blow of the fist, fell upon him, and buried his teeth to the bone in the dog’s shoulder.
It was a primordial91 setting and a primordial scene, such as might have been in the savage92 youth of the world. An open space in a dark forest, a ring of grinning wolf-dogs, and in the centre two beasts, locked in combat, snapping and snarling raging madly about panting, sobbing93, cursing, straining, wild with passion, in a fury of murder, ripping and tearing and clawing in elemental brutishness.
But Leclère caught Bâtard behind the ear with a blow from his fist, knocking him over, and, for the instant, stunning94 him. Then Leclère leaped upon him with his feet, and sprang up and down, striving to grind him into the earth. Both Bâtard’s hind legs were broken ere Leclère ceased that he might catch breath.
“A-a-ah! A-a-ah!” he screamed, incapable95 of speech, shaking his fist, through sheer impotence of throat and larynx.
But Bâtard was indomitable. He lay there in a helpless welter, his lip feebly lifting and writhing96 to the snarl he had not the strength to utter. Leclère kicked him, and the tired jaws closed on the ankle, but could not break the skin.
Then Leclère picked up the whip and proceeded almost to cut him to pieces, at each stroke of the lash crying: “Dis taim Ah break you! Eh? By Gar! Ah break you!”
In the end, exhausted, fainting from loss of blood, he crumpled97 up and fell by his victim, and when the wolf-dogs closed in to take their vengeance98, with his last consciousness dragged his body on top of Bâtard to shield him from their fangs.
This occurred not far from Sunrise, and the missionary, opening the door to Leclère a few hours later, was surprised to note the absence of Bâtard from the team. Nor did his surprise lessen99 when Leclère threw back the robes from the sled, gathered Bâtard into his arms and staggered across the threshold. It happened that the surgeon of McQuestion, who was something of a gadabout, was up on a gossip, and between them they proceeded to repair Leclère,
“Merci, non,” said he. “Do you fix firs’ de dog. To die? Non. Eet is not good. Becos’ heem Ah mus’ yet break. Dat fo’ w’at he mus’ not die.”
The surgeon called it a marvel57, the missionary a miracle, that Leclère pulled through at all; and so weakened was he, that in the spring the fever got him, and he went on his back again. Bâtard had been in even worse plight100, but his grip on life prevailed, and the bones of his hind legs knit, and his organs righted themselves, during the several weeks he lay strapped101 to the floor. And by the time Leclère, finally convalescent, sallow and shaky, took the sun by the cabin door, Bâtard had reasserted his supremacy102 among his kind, and brought not only his own team-mates but the missionary’s dogs into subjection.
He moved never a muscle, nor twitched103 a hair, when, for the first time, Leclère tottered out on the missionary’s arm, and sank down slowly and with infinite caution on the three-legged stool.
“Bon!” he said. “Bon! De good sun!” And he stretched out his wasted hands and washed them in the warmth.
Then his gaze fell on the dog, and the old light blazed back in his eyes. He touched the missionary lightly on the arm. “Mon père, dat is one beeg devil, dat Bâtard. You will bring me one pistol, so, dat Ah drink de sun in peace.”
And thenceforth for many days he sat in the sun before the cabin door. He never dozed104, and the pistol lay always across his knees. Bâtard had a way, the first thing each day, of looking for the weapon in its wonted place. At sight of it he would lift his lip faintly in token that he understood, and Leclère would lift his own lip in an answering grin. One day the missionary took note of the trick.
Leclère laughed softly. “Look you, mon père. Dat w’at Ah now spik, to dat does he lissen.”
“Ah say ‘keel’.”
Bâtard growled108 deep down in his throat, the hair bristled109 along his neck, and every muscle went tense and expectant.
“Ah lift de gun, so, like dat.” And suiting action to word, he sighted the pistol at Bâtard. Bâtard, with a single leap, sideways, landed around the corner of the cabin out of sight.
“But why does he not run away?”
The Frenchman’s shoulders went up in the racial shrug111 that means all things from total ignorance to infinite understanding.
“Then why do you not kill him?”
Again the shoulders went up.
“Mon père,” he said after a pause, “de taim is not yet. He is one beeg devil. Some taim Ah break heem, so an’ so, all to leetle bits. Hey? some taim. Bon!”
A day came when Leclère gathered his dogs together and floated down in a bateau to Forty Mile, and on to the Porcupine112, where he took a commission from the P. C. Company, and went exploring for the better part of a year. After that he poled up the Koyokuk to deserted113 Arctic City, and later came drifting back, from camp to camp, along the Yukon. And during the long months Bâtard was well lessoned. He learned many tortures, and, notably114, the torture of hunger, the torture of thirst, the torture of fire, and, worst of all, the torture of music.
Like the rest of his kind, he did not enjoy music. It gave him exquisite115 anguish116, racking him nerve by nerve, and ripping apart every fibre of his being. It made him howl, long and wolf-life, as when the wolves bay the stars on frosty nights. He could not help howling. It was his one weakness in the contest with Leclère, and it was his shame. Leclère, on the other hand, passionately117 loved music—as passionately as he loved strong drink. And when his soul clamoured for expression, it usually uttered itself in one or the other of the two ways, and more usually in both ways. And when he had drunk, his brain a-lilt with unsung song and the devil in him aroused and rampant118, his soul found its supreme119 utterance120 in torturing Bâtard.
“Now we will haf a leetle museek,” he would say. “Eh? W’at you t’ink, Bâtard?”
It was only an old and battered122 harmonica, tenderly treasured and patiently repaired; but it was the best that money could buy, and out of its silver reeds he drew weird123 vagrant124 airs that men had never heard before. Then Bâtard, dumb of throat, with teeth tight clenched125, would back away, inch by inch, to the farthest cabin corner. And Leclère, playing, playing, a stout126 club tucked under his arm, followed the animal up, inch by inch, step by step, till there was no further retreat.
At first Bâtard would crowd himself into the smallest possible space, grovelling127 close to the floor; but as the music came nearer and nearer, he was forced to uprear, his back jammed into the logs, his fore8 legs fanning the air as though to beat off the rippling128 waves of sound. He still kept his teeth together, but severe muscular contractions129 attacked his body, strange twitchings and jerkings, till he was all a-quiver and writhing in silent torment29. As he lost control, his jaws spasmodically wrenched130 apart, and deep throaty vibrations131 issued forth, too low in the register of sound for human ear to catch. And then, nostrils132 distended133, eyes dilated134, hair bristling in helpless rage, arose the long wolf howl. It came with a slurring135 rush upwards, swelling to a great heart-breaking burst of sound, and dying away in sadly cadenced136 woe—then the next rush upward, octave upon octave; the bursting heart; and the infinite sorrow and misery137, fainting, fading, falling, and dying slowly away.
It was fit for hell. And Leclère, with fiendish ken60, seemed to divine each particular nerve and heartstring, and with long wails138 and tremblings and sobbing minors139 to make it yield up its last shred140 of grief. It was frightful141, and for twenty-four hours after, Bâtard was nervous and unstrung, starting at common sounds, tripping over his own shadow, but, withal, vicious and masterful with his team-mates. Nor did he show signs of a breaking spirit. Rather did he grow more grim and taciturn, biding142 his time with an inscrutable patience that began to puzzle and weigh upon Leclère. The dog would lie in the firelight, motionless, for hours, gazing straight before him at Leclère, and hating him with his bitter eyes.
Often the man felt that he had bucked143 against the very essence of life—the unconquerable essence that swept the hawk145 down out of the sky like a feathered thunderbolt, that drove the great grey goose across the zones, that hurled146 the spawning147 salmon148 through two thousand miles of boiling Yukon flood. At such times he felt impelled149 to—express his own unconquerable essence; and with strong drink, wild music, and Bâtard, he indulged in vast orgies, wherein he pitted his puny150 strength in the face of things, and challenged all that was, and had been, and was yet to be.
“Dere is somet’ing dere,” he affirmed, when the rhythmed vagaries151 of his mind touched the secret chords of Bâtard’s being and brought forth the long lugubrious152 howl. “Ah pool eet out wid bot’ my han’s, so, an’ so. Ha! ha! Eet is fonee! Eet is ver’ fonee! De priest chant, de womans pray, de mans swear, de leetle bird go peep-peep, Bâtard, heem go yow-yow—an’ eet is all de ver’ same t’ing. Ha! ha!”
Father Gautier, a worthy153 priest, one reproved him with instances of concrete perdition. He never reproved him again.
“Eet may be so, mon père,” he made answer. “An’ Ah t’ink Ah go troo hell a-snappin’, lak de hemlock154 troo de fire. Eh, mon père?”
But all bad things come to an end as well as good, and so with Black Leclère. On the summer low water, in a poling boat, he left McDougall for Sunrise. He left McDougall in company with Timothy Brown, and arrived at Sunrise by himself. Further, it was known that they had quarrelled just previous to pulling out; for the Lizzie, a wheezy ten-ton stern-wheeler, twenty-four hours behind, beat Leclère in by three days. And when he did get in, it was with a clean-drilled bullet-hole through his shoulder muscle, and a tale of ambush155 and murder.
A strike had been made at Sunrise, and things had changed considerably156. With the infusion157 of several hundred gold-seekers, a deal of whisky, and half-a-dozen equipped gamblers, the missionary had seen the page of his years of labour with the Indians wiped clean. When the squaws became preoccupied158 with cooking beans and keeping the fire going for the wifeless miners, and the bucks159 with swapping160 their warm furs for black bottles and broken time-pieces, he took to his bed, said “Bless me” several times, and departed to his final accounting161 in a rough-hewn, oblong box. Whereupon the gamblers moved their roulette and faro tables into the mission house, and the click of chips and clink of glasses went up from dawn till dark and to dawn again.
Now Timothy Brown was well beloved among these adventurers of the North. The one thing against him was his quick temper and ready fist—a little thing, for which his kind heart and forgiving hand more than atoned163. On the other hand, there was nothing to atone162 for Black Leclère. He was “black,” as more than one remembered deed bore witness, while he was as well hated as the other was beloved. So the men of Sunrise put an antiseptic dressing164 on his shoulder and haled him before Judge Lynch.
It was a simple affair. He had quarrelled with Timothy Brown at McDougall. With Timothy Brown he had left McDougall. Without Timothy Brown he had arrived at Sunrise. Considered in the light of his evilness, the unanimous conclusion was that he had killed Timothy Brown. On the other hand, Leclère acknowledged their facts, but challenged their conclusion, and gave his own explanation. Twenty miles out of Sunrise he and Timothy Brown were poling the boat along the rocky shore. From that shore two rifle-shots rang out. Timothy Brown pitched out of the boat and went down bubbling red, and that was the last of Timothy Brown. He, Leclère, pitched into the bottom of the boat with a stinging shoulder. He lay very quiet, peeping at the shore. After a time two Indians stuck up their heads and came out to the water’s edge, carrying between them a birch-bark canoe. As they launched it, Leclère let fly. He potted one, who went over the side after the manner of Timothy Brown. The other dropped into the bottom of the canoe, and then canoe and poling boat went down the stream in a drifting battle. After that they hung up on a split current, and the canoe passed on one side of an island, the poling boat on the other. That was the last of the canoe, and he came on into Sunrise. Yes, from the way the Indian in the canoe jumped, he was sure he had potted him. That was all. This explanation was not deemed adequate. They gave him ten hours’ grace while the Lizzie steamed down to investigate. Ten hours later she came wheezing165 back to Sunrise. There had been nothing to investigate. No evidence had been found to back up his statements. They told him to make his will, for he possessed166 a fifty-thousand dollar Sunrise claim, and they were a law-abiding as well as a law-giving breed.
Leclère shrugged167 his shoulders. “Bot one t’ing,” he said; “a leetle, w’at you call, favour—a leetle favour, dat is eet. I gif my feefty t’ousan’ dollair to de church. I gif my husky dog, Bâtard, to de devil. De leetle favour? Firs’ you hang heem, an’ den80 you hang me. Eet is good, eh?”
Good it was, they agreed, that Hell’s Spawn should break trail for his master across the last divide, and the court was adjourned168 down to the river bank, where a big spruce tree stood by itself. Slackwater Charley put a hangman’s knot in the end of a hauling-line, and the noose169 was slipped over Leclère’s head and pulled tight around his neck. His hands were tied behind his back, and he was assisted to the top of a cracker170 box. Then the running end of the line was passed over an over-hanging branch, drawn taut171, and made fast. To kick the box out from under would leave him dancing on the air.
“Now for the dog,” said Webster Shaw, sometime mining engineer. “You’ll have to rope him, Slackwater.”
Leclère grinned. Slackwater took a chew of tobacco, rove a running noose, and proceeded leisurely172 to coil a few turns in his hand. He paused once or twice to brush particularly offensive mosquitoes from off his face. Everybody was brushing mosquitoes, except Leclère, about whose head a small cloud was visible. Even Bâtard, lying full-stretched on the ground with his fore paws rubbed the pests away from eyes and mouth.
But while Slackwater waited for Bâtard to lift his head, a faint call came from the quiet air, and a man was seen waving his arms and running across the flat from Sunrise. It was the storekeeper.
“C-call ’er off, boys,” he panted, as he came in among them.
“Little Sandy and Bernadotte’s jes’ got in,” he explained with returning breath. “Landed down below an’ come up by the short cut. Got the Beaver173 with ’m. Picked ’m up in his canoe, stuck in a back channel, with a couple of bullet-holes in ’m. Other buck144 was Klok Kutz, the one that knocked spots out of his squaw and dusted.”
“Eh? W’at Ah say? Eh?” Leclère cried exultantly174. “Dat de one fo’ sure! Ah know. Ah spik true.”
“The thing to do is to teach these damned Siwashes a little manners,” spoke Webster Shaw. “They’re getting fat and sassy, and we’ll have to bring them down a peg175. Round in all the bucks and string up the Beaver for an object lesson. That’s the programme. Come on and let’s see what he’s got to say for himself.”
“Heh, M’sieu!” Leclère called, as the crowd began to melt away through the twilight in the direction of Sunrise. “Ah lak ver’ moch to see de fon.”
“Oh, we’ll turn you loose when we come back,” Webster Shaw shouted over his shoulder. “In the meantime meditate176 on your sins and the ways of Providence177. It will do you good, so be grateful.”
As is the way with men who are accustomed to great hazards, whose nerves are healthy and trained in patience, so it was with Leclère who settled himself to the long wait—which is to say that he reconciled his mind to it. There was no settling of the body, for the taut rope forced him to stand rigidly178 erect. The least relaxation179 of the leg muscles pressed the rough-fibred noose into his neck, while the upright position caused him much pain in his wounded shoulder. He projected his under lip and expelled his breath upwards along his face to blow the mosquitoes away from his eyes. But the situation had its compensation. To be snatched from the maw of death was well worth a little bodily suffering, only it was unfortunate that he should miss the hanging of the Beaver.
And so he mused180, till his eyes chanced to fall upon Bâtard, head between fore paws and stretched on the ground asleep. And their Leclère ceased to muse121. He studied the animal closely, striving to sense if the sleep were real or feigned181. Bâtard’s sides were heaving regularly, but Leclère felt that the breath came and went a shade too quickly; also he felt that there was a vigilance or alertness to every hair that belied182 unshackling sleep. He would have given his Sunrise claim to be assured that the dog was not awake, and once, when one of his joints183 cracked, he looked quickly and guiltily at Bâtard to see if he roused. He did not rouse then but a few minutes later he got up slowly and lazily, stretched, and looked carefully about him.
“Sacredam,” said Leclère under his breath.
Assured that no one was in sight or hearing, Bâtard sat down, curled his upper lip almost into a smile, looked up at Leclère, and licked his chops.
“Ah see my feenish,” the man said, and laughed sardonically184 aloud.
Bâtard came nearer, the useless ear wabbling, the good ear cocked forward with devilish comprehension. He thrust his head on one side quizzically, and advanced with mincing185, playful steps. He rubbed his body gently against the box till it shook and shook again. Leclère teetered carefully to maintain his equilibrium186.
“Bâtard,” he said calmly, “look out. Ah keel you.”
Bâtard snarled187 at the word and shook the box with greater force. Then he upreared, and with his fore paws threw his weight against it higher up. Leclère kicked out with one foot, but the rope bit into his neck and checked so abruptly188 as nearly to overbalance him.
“Hi, ya! Chook! Mush-on!” he screamed.
Bâtard retreated, for twenty feet or so, with a fiendish levity189 in his bearing that Leclère could not mistake. He remembered the dog often breaking the scum of ice on the water hole by lifting up and throwing his weight upon it; and remembering, he understood what he now had in mind. Bâtard faced about and paused. He showed his white teeth in a grin, which Leclère answered; and then hurled his body through the air, in full charge, straight for the box.
Fifteen minutes later, Slackwater Charley and Webster Shaw returning, caught a glimpse of a ghostly pendulum190 swinging back and forth in the dim light. As they hurriedly drew in closer, they made out the man’s inert191 body, and a live thing that clung to it, and shook and worried, and gave to it the swaying motion.
“Hi, ya! Chook! you Spawn of Hell!” yelled Webster Shaw.
But Bâtard glared at him, and snarled threateningly, without loosing his jaws.
Slackwater Charley got out his revolver, but his hand was shaking, as with a chill, and he fumbled192.
“Here you take it,” he said, passing the weapon over.
Webster Shaw laughed shortly, drew a sight between the gleaming eyes, and pressed the trigger. Bâtard’s body twitched with the shock, threshed the ground spasmodically for a moment, and went suddenly limp. But his teeth still held fast locked.
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1
spawn
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| n.卵，产物，后代，结果；vt.产卵，种菌丝于，产生，造成；vi.产卵，大量生产 | |
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2
shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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3
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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4
fangs
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| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
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5
flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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6
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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delta
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| n.（流的）角洲 | |
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8
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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10
bickering
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| v.争吵( bicker的现在分词 )；口角；（水等）作潺潺声；闪烁 | |
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11
malign
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| adj.有害的；恶性的；恶意的；v.诽谤，诬蔑 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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13
attested
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| adj.经检验证明无病的，经检验证明无菌的v.证明( attest的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；声称…属实；使宣誓 | |
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14
progenitors
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| n.祖先( progenitor的名词复数 )；先驱；前辈；原本 | |
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pulsating
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| adj.搏动的，脉冲的v.有节奏地舒张及收缩( pulsate的现在分词 )；跳动；脉动；受（激情）震动 | |
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16
prod
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| vt.戳，刺；刺激，激励 | |
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17
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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18
knavery
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| n.恶行，欺诈的行为 | |
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19
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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20
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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21
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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22
iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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23
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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24
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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25
refinements
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| n.（生活）风雅；精炼( refinement的名词复数 )；改良品；细微的改良；优雅或高贵的动作 | |
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26
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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27
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
tormentor
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| n. 使苦痛之人, 使苦恼之物, 侧幕 =tormenter | |
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29
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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30
yelping
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的现在分词 ) | |
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31
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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32
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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33
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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34
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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35
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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36
tenacious
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| adj.顽强的，固执的，记忆力强的，粘的 | |
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37
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
yelps
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| n.（因痛苦、气愤、兴奋等的）短而尖的叫声( yelp的名词复数 )v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的第三人称单数 ) | |
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39
lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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40
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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41
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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42
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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43
hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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44
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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45
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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46
forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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47
missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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48
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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49
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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50
crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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51
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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52
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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53
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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54
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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55
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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56
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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57
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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58
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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60
ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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61
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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62
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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63
raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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64
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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65
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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66
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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67
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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68
bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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69
feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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70
knotty
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| adj.有结的，多节的，多瘤的，棘手的 | |
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71
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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72
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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73
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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74
pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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75
caribou
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| n.北美驯鹿 | |
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76
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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77
abdomen
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| n.腹，下腹(胸部到腿部的部分) | |
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78
wince
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| n.畏缩，退避，（因痛苦，苦恼等)面部肌肉抽动；v.畏缩，退缩，退避 | |
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79
writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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81
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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82
protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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84
clogged
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| （使）阻碍( clog的过去式和过去分词 )； 淤滞 | |
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85
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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86
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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87
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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88
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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89
metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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90
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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91
primordial
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| adj.原始的；最初的 | |
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92
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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93
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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94
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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95
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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96
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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97
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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98
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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99
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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100
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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101
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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102
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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103
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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104
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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105
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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106
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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107
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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108
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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109
bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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110
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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111
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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112
porcupine
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| n.豪猪， 箭猪 | |
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113
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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114
notably
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| adv.值得注意地，显著地，尤其地，特别地 | |
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115
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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116
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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117
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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118
rampant
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| adj.(植物)蔓生的；狂暴的，无约束的 | |
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119
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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120
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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121
muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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122
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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123
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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124
vagrant
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| n.流浪者，游民；adj.流浪的，漂泊不定的 | |
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125
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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127
grovelling
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| adj.卑下的，奴颜婢膝的v.卑躬屈节，奴颜婢膝( grovel的现在分词 )；趴 | |
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128
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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129
contractions
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| n.收缩( contraction的名词复数 )；缩减；缩略词；（分娩时）子宫收缩 | |
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130
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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131
vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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132
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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133
distended
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| v.（使）膨胀，肿胀( distend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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134
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135
slurring
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| 含糊地说出( slur的现在分词 )； 含糊地发…的声； 侮辱； 连唱 | |
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136
cadenced
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| adj.音调整齐的，有节奏的 | |
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137
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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138
wails
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| 痛哭，哭声( wail的名词复数 ) | |
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139
minors
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| n.未成年人( minor的名词复数 )；副修科目；小公司；[逻辑学]小前提v.[主美国英语]副修，选修，兼修( minor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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140
shred
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| v.撕成碎片，变成碎片；n.碎布条，细片，些少 | |
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141
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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142
biding
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| v.等待，停留( bide的现在分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待；面临 | |
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143
bucked
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| adj.快v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的过去式和过去分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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144
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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145
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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146
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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147
spawning
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| 产卵 | |
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148
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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149
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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150
puny
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| adj.微不足道的，弱小的 | |
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151
vagaries
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| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
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152
lugubrious
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| adj.悲哀的，忧郁的 | |
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153
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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154
hemlock
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| n.毒胡萝卜，铁杉 | |
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155
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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156
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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157
infusion
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| n.灌输 | |
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158
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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159
bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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160
swapping
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| 交换，交换技术 | |
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161
accounting
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| n.会计，会计学，借贷对照表 | |
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162
atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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163
atoned
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| v.补偿，赎（罪）( atone的过去式和过去分词 )；补偿，弥补，赎回 | |
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164
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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165
wheezing
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的现在分词 )；哮鸣 | |
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166
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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167
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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168
adjourned
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| （使）休会， （使）休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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169
noose
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| n.绳套，绞索（刑）；v.用套索捉；使落入圈套；处以绞刑 | |
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170
cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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171
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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172
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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173
beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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174
exultantly
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| adv.狂欢地，欢欣鼓舞地 | |
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175
peg
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| n.木栓，木钉；vt.用木钉钉，用短桩固定 | |
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176
meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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177
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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178
rigidly
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| adv.刻板地，僵化地 | |
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179
relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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180
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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181
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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182
belied
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| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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183
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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184
sardonically
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| adv.讽刺地，冷嘲地 | |
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185
mincing
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| adj.矫饰的；v.切碎；切碎 | |
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186
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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187
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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188
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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189
levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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190
pendulum
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| n.摆，钟摆 | |
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191
inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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192
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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