'Watch out for squalls, is all I can say to you,' was Louis's warning, given during a spare half-hour on deck while Wolf Larsen was engaged in straightening out a row among the hunters.
'Ye can't tell what'll be happenin',' Louis went on, in response to my query3 for more definite information. 'The man's as contrary as air-currents or water-currents. You can never guess the ways iv him. 'T is just as you're thinkin' you know him an' are makin' a favorable slant5 along him that he whirls around, dead ahead, an' comes howlin' down upon you an' a-rippin' all iv your fine-weather sails to rags.'
So I was not altogether surprised when the squall foretold6 by Louis smote8 me. We had been having a heated discussion,- upon life, of course,- and, grown overbold, I was passing stiff strictures upon Wolf Larsen and the life of Wolf Larsen. In fact, I was vivisecting him and turning over his soul-stuff as keenly and thoroughly9 as it was his custom to do it to others. It may be a weakness of mine that I have an incisive10 way of speech, but I threw all restraint to the winds and cut and slashed11 until the whole man of him was snarling13. The dark sun-bronze of his face went black with wrath14; his eyes became ablaze15. There was no clearness or sanity16 in them- nothing but the terrific rage of a madman. It was the wolf in him that I saw, and a mad wolf at that.
He sprang for me with a half-roar, gripping my arm. I had steeled myself to brazen17 it out, though I was trembling inwardly; but the enormous strength of the man was too much for my fortitude18. He had gripped me by the biceps with his single hand, and when that grip tightened19 I wilted20 and shrieked21 aloud. My feet went out from under me. I simply could not stand upright and endure the agony. The muscles refused their duty. The pain was too great. My biceps was being crushed to a pulp22.
He seemed to recover himself, for a lurid23 gleam came into his eyes, and he relaxed his hold with a short laugh that was more like a growl24. I fell to the floor, feeling very faint, while he sat down, lighted a cigar, and watched me as a cat watches a mouse. As I writhed25 about I could see in his eyes that curiosity I had so often noted26, that wonder and perplexity, that questing, that everlasting27 query of his as to what it was all about.
I finally crawled to my feet and ascended29 the companion-stairs. Fair weather was over, and there was nothing left but to return to the galley30. My left arm was numb31, as though paralyzed, and days passed before I could use it, while weeks went by before the last stiffness and pain went out of it. And he had done nothing but put his hand upon my arm and squeeze. There had been no wrenching32 or jerking. He had just closed his hand with a steady pressure. What he might have done I did not fully33 realize till next day, when he put his head into the galley, and, as a sign of renewed friendliness34, asked me how my arm was getting on.
'It might have been worse,' he smiled.
I was peeling potatoes. He picked one up from the pan. It was fair-sized, firm, and unpeeled. He closed his hand upon it, squeezed, and the potato squirted out between his fingers in mushy streams. The pulpy35 remnant he dropped back into the pan and turned away, and I had a sharp vision of how it might have fared with me had the monster put his strength upon me.
But the three days' rest was good, in spite of it all, for it had given my knee the very chance it needed. It felt much better, the swelling36 had materially decreased, and the cap seemed descending38 into its proper place. Also, the three days' rest brought the trouble I had foreseen. It was plainly Thomas Mugridge's intention to make me pay for those three days. He treated me vilely39, cursed me continually, and heaped his own work upon me. He even ventured to raise his fist to me, but I was becoming animal-like myself, and I snarled40 in his face so terribly that it must have frightened him back. It is no pleasant picture I can conjure41 up of myself, Humphrey Van Weyden, in that noisome42 ship's galley, crouched44 in a corner over my task, my face raised to the face of the creature about to strike me, my lips lifted and snarling like a dog's, my eyes gleaming with fear and helplessness and the courage that comes of fear and helplessness. I do not like the picture. It reminds me too strongly of a rat in a trap. I do not care to think of it; but it was effective, for the threatened blow did not descend37.
Thomas Mugridge backed away, glaring as hatefully and viciously as I glared. A pair of beasts is what we were, penned together and showing our teeth. He was a coward, afraid to strike me because I had not quailed45 sufficiently46 in advance; so he chose a new way to intimidate47 me. There was only one galley knife that as a knife amounted to anything. This, through many years of service and wear, had acquired a long, lean blade. It was unusually cruel-looking, and at first I had shuddered48 every time I used it. The cook borrowed a stone from Johansen and proceeded to sharpen the knife. He did it with great ostentation49, glancing significantly at me the while. He whetted51 it up and down all day long. Every odd moment he could find he had the knife and stone out and was whetting52 away. The steel acquired a razor-edge. He tried it with the ball of his thumb or across the nail, he shaved hairs from the back of his hand, glanced along the edge with microscopic53 acuteness, and found, or feigned54 that he found, always, a slight inequality in its edge somewhere. Then he would put it on the stone again, and whet50, whet, whet, till I could have laughed aloud, it was so very ludicrous.
It was also serious, for I learned that he was capable of using it, that under all his cowardice55 there was a courage of cowardice, like mine, that would impel56 him to do the very thing his whole nature protested against doing and was afraid of doing. 'Cooky's sharpening his knife for Hump,' was being whispered about among the sailors, and some of them twitted him about it. This he took in good part, and was really pleased, nodding his head with direful foreknowledge and mystery, until George Leach57, the erstwhile cabin-boy, ventured some rough pleasantry on the subject.
Now it happened that Leach was one of the sailors told off to douse58 Mugridge after his game of cards with the captain. Leach had evidently done his task with a thoroughness that Mugridge had not forgiven, for words followed, and evil names involving smirched ancestries59. Mugridge menaced with the knife he was sharpening for me. Leach laughed and hurled60 more of his Telegraph Hill billingsgate, and before either he or I knew what had happened, his right forearm had been ripped open from elbow to wrist by a quick slash12 of the knife. The cook backed away, a fiendish expression on his face, the knife held before him in a position of defense61. But Leach took it quite calmly, though his blood was spouting62 upon the deck as generously as water from a fountain.
'I'm goin' to get you, Cooky,' he said, 'and I'll get you hard. And I won't be in no hurry about it. You'll be without that knife when I come for you.'
So saying, he turned and walked quietly forward. Mugridge's face was livid with fear at what he had done and at what he might expect sooner or later from the man he had stabbed. But his demeanor63 toward me was more ferocious64 than ever. In spite of his fear at the reckoning he must expect to pay for what he had done, he could see that it had been an object-lesson to me, and he became more domineering and exultant65. Also, there was a lust66 in him, akin4 to madness, which had come with sight of the blood he had drawn67. He was beginning to see red in whatever direction he looked. The psychology68 of it is sadly tangled69, and yet I could read the workings of his mind as clearly as though it were a printed book.
Several days went by, the Ghost still foaming70 down the trades, and I could swear I saw madness growing in Thomas Mugridge's eyes. And I confess that I became afraid, very much afraid. Whet, whet, whet, it went, all day long. The look in his eyes as he felt the keen edge and glared at me was positively71 carnivorous. I was afraid to turn my shoulder to him, and when I left the galley I went out backward- to the amusement of the sailors and hunters, who made a point of gathering72 in groups to witness my exit. The strain was too great. I sometimes thought my mind would give way under it- a meet thing on this ship of madmen and brutes73. Every hour, every minute, of my existence was in jeopardy74. I was a human soul in distress75, and yet no soul, fore7 or aft, betrayed sufficient sympathy to come to my aid. At times I thought of throwing myself on the mercy of Wolf Larsen; but the vision of the mocking devil in his eyes that questioned life and sneered76 at it would come strong upon me and compel me to refrain. At other times I seriously contemplated77 suicide, and the whole force of my hopeful philosophy was required to keep me from going over the side in the darkness of night.
Several times Wolf Larsen tried to inveigle78 me into discussion, but I gave him short answers and eluded79 him. Finally, he commanded me to resume my seat at the cabin table for a time and let the cook do my work. Then I spoke80 frankly81, telling him what I was enduring from Thomas Mugridge because of the three days of favoritism which had been shown me. Wolf Larsen regarded me with smiling eyes.
'So you're afraid, eh?' he sneered.
'Yes,' I said defiantly82 and honestly, 'I am afraid.'
'That's the way with you fellows,' he cried half angrily; 'sentimentalizing about your immortal83 souls, and afraid to die. At sight of a sharp knife and a cowardly Cockney, the clinging of life to life overcomes all your fond foolishness. Why, my dear fellow, you will live forever. You are a god, and a god cannot be killed. Cooky cannot hurt you. You are sure of your resurrection. What's there to be afraid of?
'You have eternal life before you. You are a millionaire in immortality84, a millionaire whose fortune cannot be lost, whose fortune is less perishable85 than the stars and as lasting28 as space or time. It is impossible for you to diminish your principal. Immortality is a thing without beginning or end. Eternity86 is eternity, and though you die here and now, you will go on living somewhere else and hereafter. And it is all very beautiful, this shaking off of the flesh and soaring of the imprisoned87 spirit. Cooky cannot hurt you. He can only give you a boost on the path you eternally must tread.
'Or, if you do not wish to be boosted just yet, why not boost Cooky? According to your ideas, he too must be an immortal millionaire. You cannot bankrupt him. His paper will always circulate at par2. You cannot diminish the length of his living by killing88 him, for he is without beginning or end. He's bound to go on living, somewhere, somehow. Then boost him. Stick a knife in him and let his spirit free. As it is, it's in a nasty prison, and you'll do him only a kindness by breaking down the door. And who knows? It may be a very beautiful spirit that will go soaring up into the blue from that ugly carcass. Boost him along, and I'll promote you to his place, and he's getting forty-five dollars a month.'
It was plain that I could look for no help or mercy from Wolf Larsen. Whatever was to be done I must do for myself; and out of the courage of fear I evolved the plan of fighting Thomas Mugridge with his own weapons. I borrowed a whetstone from Johansen. Louis, the boat-steerer, had already begged me for condensed milk and sugar. The lazaret, where such delicacies89 were stored, was situated90 beneath the cabin floor. Watching my chance, I stole five cans of the milk, and that night, when it was Louis's watch on deck, I traded them with him for a dirk, as lean and cruel-looking as Thomas Mugridge's vegetable-knife. It was rusty91 and dull, but I turned the grindstone while Louis gave it an edge. I slept more soundly than usual that night.
Next morning, after breakfast, Thomas Mugridge began his whet, whet, whet. I glanced warily92 at him, for I was on my knees taking the ashes from the stove. When I returned from throwing them overside, he was talking to Harrison, whose honest yokel's face was filled with fascination93 and wonder.
'Yes,' Mugridge was saying, 'an' wot does 'is worship do but give me two years in Reading. But blimey if I cared. The other mug was fixed94 plenty. Should 'a' seen 'im. Knife just like this.' He shot a glance in my direction to see if I was taking it in, and went on with a gory95 narrative96 of his prowess.
A call from the mate interrupted him, and Harrison went aft. Mugridge sat down on the raised threshold to the galley and went on with his knife-sharpening. I put the shovel97 away and calmly sat down on the coal-box, facing him. He favored me with a vicious stare. Still calmly, though my heart was going pit-a-pat, I pulled out Louis's dirk and began to whet it on the stone. I had looked for almost any sort of explosion on the Cockney's part, but, to my surprise, he did not appear aware of what I was doing. He went on whetting his knife; so did I; and for two hours we sat there, face to face, whet, whet, the news of it spread abroad, and half the ship's company was crowding the galley doors to see the sight.
Encouragement and advice were freely tendered, and Jock Horner, the quiet, soft-spoken hunter who looked as though he would not harm a mouse, advised me to leave the ribs98 alone and to thrust upward, at the same time giving what he called the 'Spanish twist' to the blade. Leach, his bandaged arm prominently to the fore, begged me to leave a few remnants of the cook for him, and Wolf Larsen paused once or twice at the break of the poop to glance curiously99 at what must have been to him a stirring and crawling of the yeasty thing he knew as life.
And I make free to say that for the time being life assumed the same sordid100 values to me. There was nothing pretty about it, nothing divine- only two cowardly moving things that sat whetting steel upon stone, and a group of other moving things, cowardly and otherwise, that looked on. Half of them, I am sure, were anxious to see us shedding each other's blood. It would have been entertainment. And I do not think there was one who would have interfered101 had we closed in a death-struggle.
On the other hand, the whole thing was laughable and childish. Whet, whet, whet- Humphrey Van Weyden sharpening his knife in a ship's galley and trying its edge with his thumb. Of all situations this was the most inconceivable. I know that my own kind could not have believed it possible. I had not been called 'Sissy' Van Weyden all my days without reason, and that 'Sissy' Van Weyden should be capable of doing this thing was a revelation to Humphrey Van Weyden, who knew not whether to be exultant or ashamed.
But nothing happened. At the end of two hours Thomas Mugridge put away knife and stone and held out his hand.
'Wot's the good of mykin' a 'oly show of ourselves for them mugs?' he demanded. 'They don't love us, an' bloody102 well glad they'd be a-seein' us cuttin' our throats. Yer not 'arf bad, 'Ump. You've got spunk103, as you Yanks s'y, an' I like yer in a w'y. So come on an' shyke.'
Coward that I might be, I was less a coward than he. It was a distinct victory I had gained, and I refused to forego any of it by shaking his detestable hand.
'All right,' he said pridelessly; 'tyke it or leave it. I'll like yer none the less for it.' And, to save his face, he turned fiercely upon the onlookers104. 'Get outer my galley door, you bloomin' swabs!'
This command was reinforced by a steaming kettle of water, and at sight of it the sailors scrambled105 out of the way. This was a sort of victory for Thomas Mugridge and enabled him to accept more gracefully106 the defeat I had given him, though, of course, he was too discreet107 to attempt to drive the hunters away.
'I see Cooky's finish,' I heard Smoke say to Horner.
'You bet,' was the reply. 'Hump runs the galley from now on, and Cooky pulls in his horns.'
Mugridge heard and shot a swift glance at me, but I gave no sign that the conversation had reached me. I had not thought my victory was so far-reaching and complete, but I resolved to let go nothing I had gained. As the days went by, Smoke's prophecy was verified. The Cockney became more humble108 and slavish to me than even to Wolf Larsen. I mistered him and sirred him no longer, washed no more greasy109 pots, and peeled no more potatoes. I did my own work, and my own work only, and when and in what fashion I saw fit. Also, I carried the dirk in a sheath at my hip43, sailor-fashion, and maintained toward Thomas Mugridge a constant attitude which was composed of equal parts of domineering, insult, and contempt.
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收听单词发音
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1
fumed
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| 愤怒( fume的过去式和过去分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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incisive
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| adj.敏锐的，机敏的，锋利的，切入的 | |
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slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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slash
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| vi.大幅度削减；vt.猛砍，尖锐抨击，大幅减少；n.猛砍，斜线，长切口，衣衩 | |
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13
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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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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wilted
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| （使）凋谢，枯萎( wilt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pulp
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| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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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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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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pulpy
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| 果肉状的，多汁的，柔软的； 烂糊； 稀烂 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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vilely
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| adv.讨厌地，卑劣地 | |
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40
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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conjure
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| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
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noisome
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| adj.有害的，可厌的 | |
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43
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
quailed
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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intimidate
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| vt.恐吓，威胁 | |
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48
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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49
ostentation
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| n.夸耀，卖弄 | |
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50
whet
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| v.磨快，刺激 | |
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51
whetted
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| v.（在石头上）磨（刀、斧等）( whet的过去式和过去分词 )；引起，刺激（食欲、欲望、兴趣等） | |
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52
whetting
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| v.（在石头上）磨（刀、斧等）( whet的现在分词 )；引起，刺激（食欲、欲望、兴趣等） | |
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53
microscopic
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| adj.微小的，细微的，极小的，显微的 | |
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54
feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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55
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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56
impel
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| v.推动；激励，迫使 | |
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57
leach
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| v.分离，过滤掉；n.过滤；过滤器 | |
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douse
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| v.把…浸入水中，用水泼；n.泼洒 | |
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59
ancestries
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| n.祖先，世系( ancestry的名词复数 ) | |
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60
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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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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62
spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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demeanor
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| n.行为；风度 | |
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64
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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66
lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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67
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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68
psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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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
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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71
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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72
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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73
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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74
jeopardy
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| n.危险；危难 | |
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75
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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76
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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inveigle
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| v.诱骗 | |
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eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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80
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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81
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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82
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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83
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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84
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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85
perishable
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| adj.（尤指食物）易腐的，易坏的 | |
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86
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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87
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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90
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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91
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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92
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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93
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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94
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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gory
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| adj.流血的；残酷的 | |
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96
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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97
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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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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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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100
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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101
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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102
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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103
spunk
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| n.勇气，胆量 | |
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104
onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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105
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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106
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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107
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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108
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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109
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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