第 3 节
作者:指环王      更新:2024-05-15 20:29      字数:9322
  weakness came her strength。 And so mightily did she strive that her
  three trainers often marveled late into the night over the eternal
  mystery of woman。
  In this way Thanksgiving Night drew near。 At irregular intervals
  Bettles sent word down from Stuart River regarding the welfare of
  Young Cal。 The time of their return was approaching。 More than once
  a casual caller; hearing dance…music and the rhythmic pulse of feet;
  entered; only to find Harrington scraping away and the other two
  beating time or arguing noisily over a mooted step。 Madeline was never
  in evidence; having precipitately fled to the inner room。
  On one of these nights Cal Galbraith dropped in。 Encouraging news
  had just come down from Stuart River; and Madeline had surpassed
  herself… not in walk alone; and carriage and grace; but in womanly
  roguishness。 They had indulged in sharp repartee and she had
  defended herself brilliantly; and then; yielding to the intoxication
  of the moment; and of her own power; she had bullied; and mastered;
  and wheedled; and patronized them with most astonishing success。 And
  instinctively; involuntarily; they had bowed; not to her beauty; her
  wisdom; her wit; but to that indefinable something in woman to which
  man yields yet cannot name。 The room was dizzy with sheer delight as
  she and Prince whirled through the last dance of the evening。
  Harrington was throwing in inconceivable flourishes; while Malemute
  Kid; utterly abandoned; had seized the broom and was executing mad
  gyrations on his own account。
  At this instant the door shook with a heavy rap…rap; and their quick
  glances noted the lifting of the latch。 But they had survived
  similar situations before。 Harrington never broke a note。 Madeline
  shot through the waiting door to the inner room。 The broom went
  hurtling under the bunk; and by the time Cal Galbraith and Louis Savoy
  got their heads in; Malemute Kid and Prince were in each other's arms;
  wildly schottisching down the room。
  As a rule; Indian women do not make a practice of fainting on
  provocation; but Madeline came as near to it as she ever had in her
  life。 For an hour she crouched on the floor; listening to the heavy
  voices of the men rumbling up and down in mimic thunder。 Like familiar
  chords of childhood melodies; every intonation; every trick of her
  husband's voice swept in upon her; fluttering her heart and
  weakening her knees till she lay half…fainting against the door。 It
  was well she could neither see nor hear when he took his departure。
  'When do you expect to go back to Circle City?' Malemute Kid asked
  simply。
  'Haven't thought much about it;' he replied。 'Don't think till after
  the ice breaks。'
  'And Madeline?'
  He flushed at the question; and there was a quick droop to his eyes。
  Malemute Kid could have despised him for that; had he known men
  less。 As it was; his gorge rose against the wives and daughters who
  had come into the land; and not satisfied with usurping the place of
  the native women; had put unclean thoughts in the heads of the men and
  made them ashamed。
  'I guess she's all right;' the Circle City King answered hastily;
  and in an apologetic manner。 'Tom Dixon's got charge of my
  interests; you know; and he sees to it that she has everything she
  wants。'
  Malemute Kid laid hand upon his arm and hushed him suddenly。 They
  had stepped without。 Overhead; the aurora; a gorgeous wanton; flaunted
  miracles of color; beneath lay the sleeping town。 Far below; a
  solitary dog gave tongue。 The King again began to speak; but the Kid
  pressed his hand for silence。 The sound multiplied。 Dog after dog took
  up the strain till the full…throated chorus swayed the night。 To him
  who hears for the first time this weird song; is told the first and
  greatest secret of the Northland; to him who has heard it often; it is
  the solemn knell of lost endeavor。 It is the plaint of tortured souls;
  for in it is invested the heritage of the North; the suffering of
  countless generations… the warning and the requiem to the world's
  estrays。
  Cal Galbraith shivered slightly as it died away in half…caught sobs。
  The Kid read his thoughts openly; and wandered back with him through
  all the weary days of famine and disease; and with him was also the
  patient Madeline; sharing his pains and perils; never doubting;
  never complaining。 His mind's retina vibrated to a score of
  pictures; stern; clear…cut; and the hand of the past drew back with
  heavy fingers on his heart。 It was the psychological moment。
  Malemute Kid was half…tempted to play his reserve card and win the
  game; but the lesson was too mild as yet; and he let it pass。 The next
  instant they had gripped hands; and the King's beaded moccasins were
  drawing protests from the outraged snow as he crunched down the hill。
  Madeline in collapse was another woman to the mischievous creature
  of an hour before; whose laughter had been so infectious and whose
  heightened color and flashing eyes had made her teachers for the while
  forget。 Weak and nerveless; she sat in the chair just as she had
  been dropped there by Prince and Harrington。 Malemute Kid frowned。
  This would never do。 When the time of meeting her husband came to
  hand; she must carry things off with high…handed imperiousness。 It was
  very necessary she should do it after the manner of white women;
  else the victory would be no victory at all。 So he talked to her;
  sternly; without mincing of words; and initiated her into the
  weaknesses of his own sex; till she came to understand what simpletons
  men were after all; and why the word of their women was law。
  A few days before Thanksgiving Night; Malemute Kid made another call
  on Mrs。 Eppingwell。 She promptly overhauled her feminine fripperies;
  paid a protracted visit to the dry…goods department of the P。 C。
  Company; and returned with the Kid to make Madeline's acquaintance。
  After that came a period such as the cabin had never seen before;
  and what with cutting; and fitting; and basting; and stitching; and
  numerous other wonderful and unknowable things; the male
  conspirators were more often banished the premises than not。 At such
  times the Opera House opened its double storm…doors to them。 So
  often did they put their heads together; and so deeply did they
  drink to curious toasts; that the loungers scented unknown creeks of
  incalculable richness; and it is known that several che…cha…quas and
  at least one Old…Timer kept their stampeding packs stored behind the
  bar; ready to hit the trail at a moment's notice。
  Mrs。 Eppingwell was a woman of capacity; so; when she turned
  Madeline over to her trainers on Thanksgiving Night she was so
  transformed that they were almost afraid of her。 Prince wrapped a
  Hudson Bay blanket about her with a mock reverence more real than
  feigned; while Malemute Kid; whose arm she had taken; found it a
  severe trial to resume his wonted mentorship。 Harrington; with the
  list of purchases still running through his head; dragged along in the
  rear; nor opened his mouth once all the way down into the town。 When
  they came to the back door of the Opera House they took the blanket
  from Madeline's shoulders and spread it on the snow。 Slipping out of
  Prince's moccasins; she stepped upon it in new satin slippers。 The
  masquerade was at its height。 She hesitated; but they jerked open
  the door and shoved her in。 Then they ran around to come in by the
  front entrance。
  III
  'Where is Freda?' the Old…Timers questioned; while the
  che…cha…quas were equally energetic in asking who Freda was。 The
  ballroom buzzed with her name。 It was on everybody's lips。 Grizzled
  'sour…dough boys;' day…laborers at the mines but proud of their
  degree; either patronized the spruce…looking tenderfeet and lied
  eloquently… the 'sour…dough boys' being specially created to toy
  with truth… or gave them savage looks of indignation because of
  their ignorance。 Perhaps forty kings of the Upper and Lower
  Countries were on the floor; each deeming himself hot on the trail and
  sturdily backing his judgment with the yellow dust of the realm。 An
  assistant was sent to the man at the scales; upon whom had fallen
  the burden of weighing up the sacks; while several of the gamblers;
  with the rules of chance at their finger…ends; made up alluring
  books on the field and favorites。
  Which was Freda? Time and again the 'Greek Dancer' was thought to
  have been discovered; but each discovery brought panic to the
  betting ring and a frantic registering of new wagers by those who
  wished to hedge。 Malemute Kid took an interest in the hunt; his advent
  being hailed uproariously by the revelers; who knew him to a man。
  The Kid had a good eye for the trick of a step; and ear for the lilt
  of a voice; and his private choice was a marvelous creature who
  scintillated as the 'Aurora Borealis。' But the Greek dancer was too
  subtle for even his penetration。 The majority of the gold…hunters
  seemed to have c