the faith of men(人们的信任)-第14节
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suggestion。
〃Hello； Jim！ Wake up！〃 he shouted。
The old man unlimbered lamely； blinking his eyes and murmuring
automatically： 〃What'll ye have； gents？ What'll ye have？〃
They followed him inside and ranged up against the long bar where of
yore a half…dozen nimble bar…keepers found little time to loaf。 The great
room； ordinarily aroar with life； was still and gloomy as a tomb。 There
was no rattling of chips； no whirring of ivory balls。 Roulette and faro
tables were like gravestones under their canvas covers。 No women's
voices drifted merrily from the dance… room behind。 Ol' Jim Cummings
wiped a glass with palsied hands； and Kink Mitchell scrawled his initials
on the dust…covered bar。
〃Where's the girls？〃 Hootchinoo Bill shouted； with affected geniality。
〃Gone；〃 was the ancient bar…keeper's reply； in a voice thin and aged as
himself； and as unsteady as his hand。
〃Where's Bidwell and Barlow？〃
〃Gone。〃
〃And Sweetwater Charley？〃
〃Gone。〃
〃And his sister？〃
〃Gone too。〃
〃Your daughter Sally； then； and her little kid？〃
〃Gone； all gone。〃 The old man shook his head sadly； rummaging in
an absent way among the dusty bottles。
〃Great Sardanapolis！ Where？〃 Kink Mitchell exploded； unable
longer to restrain himself。 〃You don't say you've had the plague？〃
〃Why； ain't you heerd？〃 The old man chuckled quietly。 〃They…all's
gone to Dawson。〃
〃What…like is that？〃 Bill demanded。 〃A creek？ or a bar？ or a place？〃
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〃Ain't never heered of Dawson； eh？〃 The old man chuckled
exasperatingly。 〃Why； Dawson's a town； a city； bigger'n Forty Mile。
Yes； sir； bigger'n Forty Mile。〃
〃I've ben in this land seven year；〃 Bill announced emphatically； 〃an' I
make free to say I never heard tell of the burg before。 Hold on！ Let's
have some more of that whisky。 Your information's flabbergasted me；
that it has。 Now just whereabouts is this Dawson…place you was a…
mentionin'？〃
〃On the big flat jest below the mouth of Klondike；〃 ol' Jim answered。
〃But where has you…all ben this summer？〃
〃Never you mind where we…all's ben；〃 was Kink Mitchell's testy reply。
〃We…all's ben where the skeeters is that thick you've got to throw a stick
into the air so as to see the sun and tell the time of day。 Ain't I right；
Bill？〃
〃Right you are；〃 said Bill。 〃But speakin' of this Dawson…place how
like did it happen to be； Jim？〃
〃Ounce to the pan on a creek called Bonanza； an' they ain't got to bed…
rock yet。〃
〃Who struck it？〃
〃Carmack。〃
At mention of the discoverer's name the partners stared at each other
disgustedly。 Then they winked with great solemnity。
〃Siwash George；〃 sniffed Hootchinoo Bill。
〃That squaw…man；〃 sneered Kink Mitchell。
〃I wouldn't put on my moccasins to stampede after anything he'd ever
find；〃 said Bill。
〃Same here；〃 announced his partner。 〃A cuss that's too plumb lazy to
fish his own salmon。 That's why he took up with the Indians。 S'pose that
black brother…in…law of his；lemme see； Skookum Jim； eh？s'pose he's in
on it？〃
The old bar…keeper nodded。 〃Sure； an' what's more； all Forty Mile；
exceptin' me an' a few cripples。〃
〃And drunks；〃 added Kink Mitchell。
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〃No…sir…ee！〃 the old man shouted emphatically。
〃I bet you the drinks Honkins ain't in on it！〃 Hootchinoo Bill cried
with certitude。
Ol' Jim's face lighted up。 〃I takes you； Bill； an' you loses。〃
〃However did that ol' soak budge out of Forty Mile？〃 Mitchell
demanded。
〃The ties him down an' throws him in the bottom of a polin'…boat；〃 ol'
Jim explained。 〃Come right in here； they did； an' takes him out of that
there chair there in the corner； an' three more drunks they finds under the
pianny。 I tell you…alls the whole camp hits up the Yukon for Dawson jes'
like Sam Scratch was after them； wimmen； children； babes in arms； the
whole shebang。 Bidwell comes to me an' sez； sez he； 'Jim； I wants you to
keep tab on the Monte Carlo。 I'm goin'。'
〃'Where's Barlow？' sez I。 'Gone；' sez he； 'an' I'm a…followin' with a
load of whisky。' An' with that； never waitin' for me to decline； he makes
a run for his boat an' away he goes； polin' up river like mad。 So here I be；
an' these is the first drinks I've passed out in three days。〃
The partners looked at each other。
〃Gosh darn my buttoms！〃 said Hootchinoo Bill。 〃Seems likes you
and me； Kink； is the kind of folks always caught out with forks when it
rains soup。〃
〃Wouldn't it take the saleratus out your dough； now？〃 said Kink
Mitchell。 〃A stampede of tin…horns； drunks； an' loafers。〃
〃An' squaw…men；〃 added Bill。 〃Not a genooine miner in the whole
caboodle。〃
〃Genooine miners like you an' me； Kink；〃 he went on academically； 〃is
all out an' sweatin' hard over Birch Creek way。 Not a genooine miner in
this whole crazy Dawson outfit； and I say right here； not a step do I budge
for any Carmack strike。 I've got to see the colour of the dust first。〃
〃Same here；〃 Mitchell agreed。 〃Let's have another drink。〃
Having wet this resolution； they beached the canoe； transferred its
contents to their cabin； and cooked dinner。 But as the afternoon wore
along they grew restive。 They were men used to the silence of the great
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wilderness； but this gravelike silence of a town worried them。 They
caught themselves listening for familiar sounds 〃waitin' for something to
make a noise which ain't goin' to make a noise；〃 as Bill put it。 They
strolled through the deserted streets to the Monte Carlo for more drinks；
and wandered along the river bank to the steamer landing； where only
water gurgled as the eddy filled and emptied； and an occasional salmon
leapt flashing into the sun。
They sat down in the shade in front of the store and talked with the
consumptive storekeeper； whose liability to hemorrhage accounted for his
presence。 Bill and Kink told him how they intended loafing in their
cabin and resting up after the hard summer's work。 They told him； with a
certain insistence； that was half appeal for belief； half challenge for
contradiction； how much they were going to enjoy their idleness。 But the
storekeeper was uninterested。 He switched the conversation back to the
strike on Klondike； and they could not keep him away from it。 He could
think of nothing else； talk of nothing else； till Hootchinoo Bill rose up in
anger and disgust。
〃Gosh darn Dawson； say I！〃 he cried。
〃Same here；〃 said Kink Mitchell； with a brightening face。 〃One'd
think something was doin' up there； 'stead of bein' a mere stampede of
greenhorns an' tinhorns。〃
But a boat came into view from downstream。 It was long and slim。 It
hugged the bank closely； and its three occupants； standing upright；
propelled it against the stiff current by means of long poles。
〃Circle City outfit；〃 said the storekeeper。 〃I was lookin' for 'em along
by afternoon。 Forty Mile had the start of them by a hundred and seventy
miles。 But gee！ they ain't losin' any time！〃
'We'll just sit here quiet…like and watch 'em string by；〃 Bill said
complacently。
As he spoke； another boat appeared in sight； followed after a brief
interval by two others。 By this time the first boat was abreast of the men
on the bank。 Its occupants did not cease poling while greetings were
exchanged； and； though its progress was slow； a
