第 54 节
作者:
曾氏六合网 更新:2024-07-12 09:34 字数:9322
DUELLING
Barely had Sheldon reached the Balesuna; when he heard the faint
report of a distant rifle and knew it was the signal of Tudor; giving notice
that he had reached the Berande; turned about; and was coming back。
Sheldon fired his rifle into the air in answer; and in turn proceeded to
advance。 He moved as in a dream; absent… mindedly keeping to the open
beach。 The thing was so preposterous that he had to struggle to realize it;
and he reviewed in his mind the conversation with Tudor; trying to find
some clue to the common…sense of what he was doing。 He did not want
to kill Tudor。 Because that man had blundered in his love…making was no
reason that he; Sheldon; should take his life。 Then what was it all about?
True; the fellow had insulted Joan by his subsequent remarks and been
knocked down for it; but because he had knocked him down was no reason
that he should now try to kill him。
In this fashion he covered a quarter of the distance between the two
rivers; when it dawned upon him that Tudor was not on the beach at all。
Of course not。 He was advancing; according to the terms of the
agreement; in the shelter of the cocoanut trees。 Sheldon promptly
swerved to the left to seek similar shelter; when the faint crack of a rifle
came to his ears; and almost immediately the bullet; striking the hard sand
a hundred feet beyond him; ricochetted and whined onward on a second
flight; convincing him that; preposterous and unreal as it was; it was
nevertheless sober fact。 It had been intended for him。 Yet even then it
was hard to believe。 He glanced over the familiar landscape and at the
sea dimpling in the light but steady breeze。 From the direction of Tulagi
he could see the white sails of a schooner laying a tack across toward
Berande。 Down the beach a horse was grazing; and he idly wondered
where the others were。 The smoke rising from the copra…drying caught
his eyes; which roved on over the barracks; the tool…houses; the boat…
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sheds; and the bungalow; and came to rest on Joan's little grass house in
the corner of the compound。
Keeping now to the shelter of the trees; he went forward another
quarter of a mile。 If Tudor had advanced with equal speed they should
have come together at that point; and Sheldon concluded that the other
was circling。 The difficulty was to locate him。 The rows of trees;
running at right angles; enabled him to see along only one narrow avenue
at a time。 His enemy might be coming along the next avenue; or the next;
to right or left。 He might be a hundred feet away or half a mile。
Sheldon plodded on; and decided that the old stereotyped duel was far
simpler and easier than this protracted hide…and…seek affair。 He; too; tried
circling; in the hope of cutting the other's circle; but; without catching a
glimpse of him; he finally emerged upon a fresh clearing where the young
trees; waist…high; afforded little shelter and less hiding。 Just as he
emerged; stepping out a pace; a rifle cracked to his right; and though he
did not hear the bullet in passing; the thud of it came to his ears when it
struck a palm…trunk farther on。
He sprang back into the protection of the larger trees。 Twice he had
exposed himself and been fired at; while he had failed to catch a single
glimpse of his antagonist。 A slow anger began to burn in him。 It was
deucedly unpleasant; he decided; this being peppered at; and nonsensical
as it really was; it was none the less deadly serious。 There was no
avoiding the issue; no firing in the air and getting over with it as in the
old…fashioned duel。 This mutual man…hunt must keep up until one got the
other。 And if one neglected a chance to get the other; that increased the
other's chance to get him。 There could be no false sentiment about it。
Tudor had been a cunning devil when he proposed this sort of duel;
Sheldon concluded; as he began to work along cautiously in the direction
of the last shot。
When he arrived at the spot; Tudor was gone; and only his foot… prints
remained; pointing out the course he had taken into the depths of the
plantation。 Once; ten minutes later; he caught a glimpse of Tudor; a
hundred yards away; crossing the same avenue as himself but going in the
opposite direction。 His rifle half…leaped to his shoulder; but the other was
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gone。 More in whim than in hope of result; grinning to himself as he did
so; Sheldon raised his automatic pistol and in two seconds sent eight shots
scattering through the trees in the direction in which Tudor had
disappeared。 Wishing he had a shot…gun; Sheldon dropped to the ground
behind a tree; slipped a fresh clip up the hollow butt of the pistol; threw a
cartridge into the chamber; shoved the safety catch into place; and
reloaded the empty clip。
It was but a short time after that that Tudor tried the same trick on him;
the bullets pattering about him like spiteful rain; thudding into the palm
trunks; or glancing off in whining ricochets。 The last bullet of all;
making a double ricochet from two different trees and losing most of its
momentum; struck Sheldon a sharp blow on the forehead and dropped at
his feet。 He was partly stunned for the moment; but on investigation
found no greater harm than a nasty lump that soon rose to the size of a
pigeon's egg。
The hunt went on。 Once; coming to the edge of the grove near the
bungalow; he saw the house…boys and the cook; clustered on the back
veranda and peering curiously among the trees; talking and laughing with
one another in their queer falsetto voices。 Another time he came upon a
working…gang busy at hoeing weeds。 They scarcely noticed him when he
came up; though they knew thoroughly well what was going on。 It was
no affair of theirs that the enigmatical white men should be out trying to
kill each other; and whatever interest in the proceedings might be theirs
they were careful to conceal it from Sheldon。 He ordered them to
continue hoeing weeds in a distant and out…of…the…way corner; and went on
with the pursuit of Tudor。
Tiring of the endless circling; Sheldon tried once more to advance
directly on his foe; but the latter was too crafty; taking advantage of his
boldness to fire a couple of shots at him; and slipping away on some
changed and continually changing course。 For an hour they dodged and
turned and twisted back and forth and around; and hunted each other
among the orderly palms。 They caught fleeting glimpses of each other
and chanced flying shots which were without result。 On a grassy shelter
behind a tree; Sheldon came upon where Tudor had rested and smoked a
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cigarette。 The pressed grass showed where he had sat。 To one side lay
the cigarette stump and the charred match which had lighted it。 In front
lay a scattering of bright metallic fragments。 Sheldon recognized their
significance。 Tudor was notching his steel…jacketed bullets; or cutting
them blunt; so that they would spread on strikingin short; he was making
them into the vicious dum…dum prohibited in modern warfare。 Sheldon
knew now what would happen to him if a bullet struck his body。 It
would leave a tiny hole where it entered; but the hole where it emerged
would be the size of a saucer。
He decided to give up the pursuit; and lay down in the grass; protected
right and left by the row of palms; wi