The black head of Barry, the brown head of Randall Byrne, the golden head of Kate Cumberland, were all bowed around the limp body of Black Bart. Buck1 Daniels, still gasping2 for breath, stood reeling nearby.
"Let me attempt to resuscitate3 the animal," offered the doctor.
He was met by a blank look from Barry. The hair of the man was scorched4, his skin was blistered5 and burned. Only his hands remained uninjured, and these continued to move over the body of the great dog. Kate Cumberland was on her knees over the brute6.
"Is it fatal, Dan?" she asked. "Is there no hope for Bart?"
There was no answer from Barry, and she attempted to raise the fallen, lifeless head of the animal; but instantly a strong arm darted7 out and brushed her hands away. Those hands fell idly at her sides and her head went back as though she had been struck across the face. She found herself looking up into the angry eyes of Randall Byrne. He reached down and raised her to her feet; there was no colour in her face, no life in her limbs.
"There's nothing more to be done here, apparently8," said the doctor coldly. "Suppose we take your father and go back to the house."
She made neither assent9 nor dissent10. Dan Barry had finished a swift, deft11 bandage and stopped the bleeding of the dog's wounds. Now he raised his head and his glance slipped rapidly over the faces of the doctor and the girl and rested on Buck Daniels. There was no flash of kindly12 thanks, no word of recognition. His right hand raised to his cheek, and rested there, and in his eyes came that flare13 of yellow hate. Buck Daniels shrank back until he was lost in the crowd. Then he turned and stumbled back towards the house.
Instantly, Barry began to work at expanding and depressing the lungs of the huge animal as he might have worked to bring a man back to life.
"Watch him!" whispered the doctor to Kate Cumberland. "He is closer to that dog—that wolf, it looks like—than he has ever been to any human being!"
She would not answer, but she turned her head quickly away from the man and his beast.
"Are you afraid to watch?" challenged Byrne, for his anger at Barry's blunt refusals still made his blood hot. "When your father lay at death's door was he half so anxious as he is now? Did he work so hard, by half? See how his eyes are fixed14 on the muzzle15 of the beast as if he were studying a human face!"
"No, no!" breathed the girl.
"I fell you, look!" commanded the doctor. "For there's the solution of the mystery. No mystery at all. Barry is simply a man who is closer akin16 to the brute forces in nature. See! By the eternal heavens, he's dragging that beast—that dumb beast—back from the door of death!"
Barry had ceased his rapid manipulations, and turned the big dog back upon its side. Now the eyes of Black Bart opened, and winked17 shut again. Now the master kneeled at the head of the beast and took the scarred, shaggy head between his hands.
"Bart!" he commanded.
Not a stir in the long, black body. The stallion edged a pace closer, dropped his velvet18 muzzle, and whinnied softly at the very ear of the dog. Still, there was not an answering quiver.
"Bart!" called the man again, and there was a ring of wild grief—of fear—in his cry.
"Do you hear?" said Byrne savagely19, at the ear of the girl. "Did you ever use such a tone with a human being? Ever?"
"Take me away!" she murmured. "I'm sick—sick at heart. Take me away!"
Indeed, she was scarcely sure of her poise20, and tottered21 where she stood. Doctor Byrne slipped his arm about her and led her away, supporting half her weight. They went slowly, by small, soft steps, towards the house, and before they reached it, he knew that she was weeping. But if there was sadness in Byrne, there was also a great joy. He was afire, for there is a flamelike quality in hope. Loss of blood and the stifling22 smoke, rather than a mortal injury or the touch of fire, had brought Black Bart close to death, but now that his breathing was restored, and almost normal, he gained rapidly. One instant he lingered on the border between life and death; the next, the brute's eyes opened and glittered with dim recognition up towards Dan, and he licked the hand which supported his head. At Dan's direction, a blanket was brought, and after Dan had lifted Black Bart upon it, four men raised the corners of the blanket and carried the burden towards the house. One of the cowpunchers went ahead bearing the light. This was the sight which Doctor Byrne and Kate Cumberland saw from the veranda23 of the ranch-house as they turned and looked back before going in.
"A funeral procession," suggested the doctor.
"No," she answered positively24. "If Black Bart were dead, Dan wouldn't allow any hands save his own to touch the body. No, Black Bart is alive! Yet, it's impossible."
The word "impossible," however, was gradually dropping from the vocabulary of Randall Byrne. True, the wolf-dog had seemed dead past recovery and across the eyes of Byrne came a vision of the dead rising from their graves. Yet he merely shook his head and said nothing.
"Ah!" she broke in. "Look!"
The procession drew nearer, heading towards the back of the big house, and now they saw that Dan Barry walked beside the body of Black Bart, a smile on his lifted face. They disappeared behind the back of the house.
Byrne heard the girl murmuring, more to herself than to him: "Once he was like that all the time."
"Like what?" he asked bluntly.
She paused, and then her hand dropped lightly on his arm. He could not see more than a vague outline of her in the night, only the dull glimmer25 of her face as she turned her head, and the faint whiteness of her hand.
"Let's say good-night," she answered, at length. "Our little worlds have toppled about our heads to-night—all your theories, it seems, and, God knows, all that I have hoped. Why should we stay here and make ourselves miserable26 by talk?"
"But because we have failed," he said steadily27, "is that a reason we should creep off and brood over our failure in silence? No, let's talk it out, man to man."
"You have a fine courage," said the girl. "But what is there we can say?"
He answered: "For my part, I am not so miserable as you think. For I feel as if this night had driven us closer together, you see; and I've caught a perspective on everything that has happened here."
"Tell me what you know."
"Only what I think I know. It may be painful to hear."
"I'm very used to pain."
"Well, a moment ago, when Barry was walking beside his dog, smiling, you murmured that he once was like that always. It gave me light. So I'd say that there was a time when Dan Barry lived here with you and your father. Am I right?"
"Yes, for years and years."
"And in those times he was not greatly different from other men. Not on the surface."
"No."
"You came to be very fond of him."
He went on: "Then something happened—suddenly—that took him away from you, and you did not see him again until to-night. Am I right?"
"Yes. I thought you must have heard the story—from the outside. I'll tell you the truth. My father found Dan Barry wandering across the hills years ago. He was riding home over the range and he heard a strange and beautiful whistling, and when he looked up he saw on the western ridge29, walking against the sky, a tattered30 figure of a boy. He rode up and asked the boy his name. He learned it was Dan Barry—Whistling Dan, he was called. But the boy could not, or would not, tell how he came to be there in the middle of the range without a horse. He merely said that he came from 'over there,' and waved his hand to the south and east. That was all. He didn't seem to be alarmed because he was alone, and yet he apparently knew nothing of the country; he was lost in this terrible country where a man could wander for days without finding a house, and yet the boy was whistling as he walked! So Dad took him home and sent out letters all about—to the railroad in particular—to find out if such a boy was missing.
"He received no answer. In the meantime he gave Dan a room in the house; and I remember how Dan sat at the table the first night—I was a very little girl then—and how I laughed at his strange way of eating. His knife was the only thing he was interested in and he made it serve for knife, fork, and spoon, and he held the meat in his fingers while he cut it. The next morning he was missing. One of Dad's range riders picked up Dan several miles to the north, walking along, whistling gayly. The next morning he was missing again and was caught still farther away. After that Dad had a terrible scene with him—I don't know exactly what happened—but Dan promised to run away no more, and ever since then Dad has been closer to Dan than anyone else.
"So Dan grew up. From the time I could first distinctly remember, he was very gentle and good-natured, but he was different, always. After a while he got Black Bart, you know, and then he went out with a halter and captured Satan. Think of capturing a wild mustang with nothing but a halter! He played around with them so much that I was jealous of them. So I kept with them until Bart and Satan were rather used to me. Bart would even play with me now and then when Dan wasn't near. And so finally Dan and I were to be married.
"Dad didn't like the idea. He was afraid of what Dan might become. And he was right. One day, in a saloon that used to stand on that hill over there, Dan had a fight—his first fight—with a man who had struck him across the mouth for no good reason. That man was Jim Silent. Of course you've heard of him?"
"Never."
"He was a famous long-rider—an outlaw31 with a very black record. At the end of that fight he struck Dan down with a chair and escaped. I went down to Dan when I heard of the fight—Black Bart led me down, to be exact—but Dan would not come back to the house, and he'd have no more to do with anyone until he had found Jim Silent. I can't tell you everything that happened. Finally he caught Jim Silent and killed him—with his bare hands. Buck Daniels saw it. Then Dan came back to us, but on the first night he began to grow restless. It was last Fall—the wild geese were flying south—and while they were honking32 in the sky Dan got up, said good-bye, and left us. We have never seen him again until to-night. All we knew was that he had ridden south—after the wild geese."
A long silence fell between them, for the doctor was thinking hard.
"And when he came back," he said, "Barry did not know you? I mean you were nothing to him?"
"You were there," said the girl, faintly.
"It is perfectly33 clear," said Byrne. "If it were a little more commonplace it might be puzzling, but being so extraordinary it clears itself up. Did you really expect the dog, the wolf-dog, Black Bart, to remember you?"
"I may have expected it."
"But you were not surprised, of course!"
"Naturally not."
"Yet you see that Dan Barry—Whistling Dan, you call him—was closer to
Black Bart than he was to you?"
"Why should I see that?"
"You watched him a moment ago when he was leaning over the dog."
She said simply: "Yes, I saw."
"Don't you see that he is simply more in tune35 with the animal world? And it's really no more reasonable to expect Black Bart to remember you than it is to expect Dan Barry to remember you? It's quite plain. When you go back to the beginning man was simply an animal, without the higher senses, as we call them. He was simply a brute, living in trees or in caves. Afterwards he grew into the thing we all know. But why not imagine a throw-back into the earlier instincts? Why not imagine the creature devoid36 of the impulses of mind, the thing which we call man, and see the splendid animal? You saw in Dan Barry simply a biological sport—the freak—the thing which retraces37 the biological progress and comes close to the primitive38. But of course you could not realise this. He seemed a man, and you accepted him as a man. In reality he was no more a man than Black Bart is a man. He had the face and form of a man, but his instincts were as old as the ages. The animal world obeys him. Satan neighs in answer to his whistle. The wolf-dog licks his hand at the point of death. There is the profound difference, always. You try to reconcile him with other men; you give him the attributes of other men. Open your eyes; see the truth: that he is no more akin to man than Black Bart is like a man. And when you give him your affection, Miss Cumberland, you are giving your affection to a wild wolf! Do you believe me?"
He knew that she was shaken. He could feel it, even without the testimony39 of his eyes to witness. He went on, speaking with great rapidity, lest she should escape from the influence which he had already gained over her.
"I felt it when I first saw him—a certain nameless kinship with elemental forces. The wind blew through the open door—it was Dan Barry. The wild geese called from the open sky—for Dan Barry. These are the things which lead him. These the forces which direct him. You have loved him; but is love merely a giving? No, you have seen in him a man, but I see in him merely the animal force."
She said after a moment: "Do you hate him—you plead against him so passionately40?"
He answered: "Can you hate a thing which is not human? No, but you can dread41 it. It escapes from the laws which bind42 you and which bind me. What standards govern it? How can you hope to win it? Love? What beauty is there in the world to appeal to such a creature except the beauty of the marrow-bone which his teeth have the strength to snap?"
"Ah, listen!" murmured the girl. "Here is your answer!"
And Doctor Randall Byrne heard a sound like the muted music of the violin, thin and small and wonderfully penetrating43. He could not tell, at first, what it might be. For it was as unlike the violin as it was like the bow and the rosined strings44. Then he made out, surely, that it was the whistling of a human being.
It followed no tune, no reasoned theme. The music was beautiful in its own self. It rose straight up like the sky-lark from the ground, sheer up against the white light of the sky, and there it sang against heaven's gate. He had never heard harmony like it. He would never again hear such music, so thin and yet so full that it went through and through him, until he felt the strains take a new, imitative life within him. He would have whistled the strains himself, but he could not follow them. They escaped him, they soared above him. They followed no law or rhythm. They flew on wings and left him far below. The girl moved away from him as if led by an invisible hand, and now she stood at the extremity45 of the porch. He followed her.
"Do you hear?" she cried, turning to him.
"What is it?" asked the doctor.
"It is he! Don't you understand?"
"Barry? Yes! But what does the whistling mean; is it for his wolf-dog?"
"I don't know," she answered quickly. "All I understand is that it is beautiful. Where are your theories and explanations now, Doctor Byrne?".
"It is beautiful—God knows!—but doesn't the wolf-dog understand it better than either you or I?"
She turned and faced Byrne, standing46 very close, and when she spoke47 there was something in her voice which was like a light. In spite of the dark he could guess at every varying shade of her expression.
"To the rest of us," she murmured, "Dan has nothing but silence, and hardly a glance. Buck saved his life to-night, and yet Dan remembered nothing except the blow which had been struck. And now—now he pours out all the music in his soul for a dumb beast. Listen!"
He saw her straighten herself and stand taller.
"Then through the wolf—I'll conquer through the dumb beast!"
She whipped past Byrne and disappeared into the house; at the same instant the whistling, in the midst of a faint, high climax48, broke, shivered, and was ended. There was only the darkness and the silence around Byrne, and the unsteady wind against his face.
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收听单词发音
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1
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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2
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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resuscitate
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| v.使复活，使苏醒 | |
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4
scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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5
blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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8
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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9
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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dissent
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| n./v.不同意，持异议 | |
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11
deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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12
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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13
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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14
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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15
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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18
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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19
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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20
poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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21
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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22
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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26
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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27
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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28
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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29
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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30
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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31
outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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32
honking
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| v.（使）发出雁叫似的声音，鸣（喇叭），按（喇叭）( honk的现在分词 ) | |
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33
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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34
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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35
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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36
devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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37
retraces
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| v.折回( retrace的第三人称单数 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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38
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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39
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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40
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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41
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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42
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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43
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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44
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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45
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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46
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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47
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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48
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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