the faith of men-第18章

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His　puppyhood　was　a　period　of　foolish　rebellion。　　He　was　always

worsted；　but　he　fought　back　because　it　was　his　nature　to　fight

back。　　And　he　was　unconquerable。　　Yelping　shrilly　from　the　pain　of

lash　and　club；　he　none　the　less　contrived　always　to　throw　in　the

defiant　snarl；　the　bitter　vindictive　menace　of　his　soul　which

fetched　without　fail　more　blows　and　beatings。　　But　his　was　his

mother's　tenacious　grip　on　life。　　Nothing　could　kill　him。　　He

flourished　under　misfortune；　grew　fat　with　famine；　and　out　of　his

terrible　struggle　for　life　developed　a　preternatural　intelligence。

His　were　the　stealth　and　cunning　of　the　husky；　his　mother；　and　the

fierceness　and　valour　of　the　wolf；　his　father。



Possibly　it　was　because　of　his　father　that　he　never　wailed。　　His

puppy　yelps　passed　with　his　lanky　legs；　so　that　he　became　grim　and

taciturn；　quick　to　strike；　slow　to　warn。　　He　answered　curse　with

snarl；　and　blow　with　snap；　grinning　the　while　his　implacable

hatred；　but　never　again；　under　the　extremest　agony；　did　Leclere

bring　from　him　the　cry　of　fear　nor　of　pain。　　This　unconquerableness

but　fanned　Leclere's　wrath　and　stirred　him　to　greater　deviltries。



Did　Leclere　give　Batard　half　a　fish　and　to　his　mates　whole　ones；

Batard　went　forth　to　rob　other　dogs　of　their　fish。　　Also　he　robbed

caches　and　expressed　himself　in　a　thousand　rogueries；　till　he

became　a　terror　to　all　dogs　and　masters　of　dogs。　　Did　Leclere　beat

Batard　and　fondle　BabetteBabette　who　was　not　half　the　worker　he

waswhy；　Batard　threw　her　down　in　the　snow　and　broke　her　hind　leg

in　his　heavy　jaws；　so　that　Leclere　was　forced　to　shoot　her。

Likewise；　in　bloody　battles；　Batard　mastered　all　his　team…mates；

set　them　the　law　of　trail　and　forage；　and　made　them　live　to　the　law

he　set。



In　five　years　he　heard　but　one　kind　word；　received　but　one　soft

stroke　of　a　hand；　and　then　he　did　not　know　what　manner　of　things

they　were。　　He　leaped　like　the　untamed　thing　he　was；　and　his　jaws

were　together　in　a　flash。　　It　was　the　missionary　at　Sunrise；　a

newcomer　in　the　country；　who　spoke　the　kind　word　and　gave　the　soft

stroke　of　the　hand。　　And　for　six　months　after；　he　wrote　no　letters

home　to　the　States；　and　the　surgeon　at　McQuestion　travelled　two

hundred　miles　on　the　ice　to　save　him　from　blood…poisoning。



Men　and　dogs　looked　askance　at　Batard　when　he　drifted　into　their

camps　and　posts。　　The　men　greeted　him　with　feet　threateningly

lifted　for　the　kick；　the　dogs　with　bristling　manes　and　bared　fangs。

Once　a　man　did　kick　Batard；　and　Batard；　with　quick　wolf　snap；

closed　his　jaws　like　a　steel　trap　on　the　man's　calf　and　crunched

down　to　the　bone。　　Whereat　the　man　was　determined　to　have　his　life；

only　Black　Leclere；　with　ominous　eyes　and　naked　hunting…knife；

stepped　in　between。　　The　killing　of　Batardah；　SACREDAM；　THAT　was

a　pleasure　Leclere　reserved　for　himself。　　Some　day　it　would　happen；

or　elsebah！　who　was　to　know？　　Anyway；　the　problem　would　be

solved。



For　they　had　become　problems　to　each　other。　　The　very　breath　each

drew　was　a　challenge　and　a　menace　to　the　other。　　Their　hate　bound

them　together　as　love　could　never　bind。　　Leclere　was　bent　on　the

coming　of　the　day　when　Batard　should　wilt　in　spirit　and　cringe　and

whimper　at　his　feet。　　And　BatardLeclere　knew　what　was　in　Batard's

mind；　and　more　than　once　had　read　it　in　Batard's　eyes。　　And　so

clearly　had　he　read；　that　when　Batard　was　at　his　back；　he　made　it　a

point　to　glance　often　over　his　shoulder。



Men　marvelled　when　Leclere　refused　large　money　for　the　dog。　　〃Some

day　you'll　kill　him　and　be　out　his　price；〃　said　John　Hamlin　once；

when　Batard　lay　panting　in　the　snow　where　Leclere　had　kicked　him；

and　no　one　knew　whether　his　ribs　were　broken；　and　no　one　dared　look

to　see。



〃Dat；〃　said　Leclere；　dryly；　〃dat　is　my　biz'ness；　M'sieu'。〃



And　the　men　marvelled　that　Batard　did　not　run　away。　　They　did　not

understand。　　But　Leclere　understood。　　He　was　a　man　who　lived　much

in　the　open；　beyond　the　sound　of　human　tongue；　and　he　had　learned

the　voices　of　wind　and　storm；　the　sigh　of　night；　the　whisper　of

dawn；　the　clash　of　day。　　In　a　dim　way　he　could　hear　the　green

things　growing；　the　running　of　the　sap；　the　bursting　of　the　bud。

And　he　knew　the　subtle　speech　of　the　things　that　moved；　of　the

rabbit　in　the　snare；　the　moody　raven　beating　the　air　with　hollow

wing；　the　baldface　shuffling　under　the　moon；　the　wolf　like　a　grey

shadow　gliding　betwixt　the　twilight　and　the　dark。　　And　to　him

Batard　spoke　clear　and　direct。　　Full　well　he　understood　why　Batard

did　not　run　away；　and　he　looked　more　often　over　his　shoulder。



When　in　anger；　Batard　was　not　nice　to　look　upon；　and　more　than　once

had　he　leapt　for　Leclere's　throat；　to　be　stretched　quivering　and

senseless　in　the　snow；　by　the　butt　of　the　ever　ready　dogwhip。　　And

so　Batard　learned　to　bide　his　time。　　When　he　reached　his　full

strength　and　prime　of　youth；　he　thought　the　time　had　come。　　He　was

broad…chested；　powerfully　muscled；　of　far　more　than　ordinary　size；

and　his　neck　from　head　to　shoulders　was　a　mass　of　bristling　hair

to　all　appearances　a　full…blooded　wolf。　　Leclere　was　lying　asleep

in　his　furs　when　Batard　deemed　the　time　to　be　ripe。　　He　crept　upon

him　stealthily；　head　low　to　earth　and　lone　ear　laid　back；　with　a

feline　softness　of　tread。　　Batard　breathed　gently；　very　gently；　and

not　till　he　was　close　at　hand　did　he　raise　his　head。　　He　paused　for

a　moment　and　looked　at　the　bronzed　bull　throat；　naked　and　knotty；

and　swelling　to　a　deep　steady　pulse。　　The　slaver　dripped　down　his

fangs　and　slid　off　his　tongue　at　the　sight；　and　in　that　moment　he

remembered　his　drooping　ear；　his　uncounted　blows　and　prodigious

wrongs；　and　without　a　sound　sprang　on　the　sleeping　man。



Leclere　awoke　to　the　pang　of　the　fangs　in　his　throat；　and；　perfect

animal　that　he　was；　he　awoke　clear…headed　and　with　full

comprehension。　　He　closed　on　Batard's　windpipe　with　both　his　hands；

and　rolled　out　of　his　furs　to　get　his　weight　uppermost。　　But　the

thousands　of　Batard's　ancestors　had　clung　at　the　throats　of

unnumbered　moose　and　caribou　and　dragged　them　down；　and　the　wisdom

of　those　ancestors　was　his。　　When　Leclere's　weight　came　on　top　of

him；　he　drove　his　hind　legs　upwards　and　in；　and　clawed　down　chest

and　abdomen；　ripping　and　tearing　through　skin　and　muscle。　　And　when

he　felt　the　man's　body　wince　above　him　and　lift；　he　worried　and

shook　at　the　man's　throat。　　His　team…mates　closed　around　in　a

snarling　circle；　and　Batard；　with　failing　breath　and　fading　sense；

knew　that　their　jaws　were　hungry　for　him。　　But　that　did　not　matter…

…it　was　the　man；　the　man　above　him；　and　he　ripped　and　clawed；　and

shook　and　worried；　to　the　last　ounce　of　his　strength。　　But　Leclere

choked　him　with　both　his　hands；　till　Batard's　chest　heaved　and

writhed　for　the　air　denied；　and　his　eyes　glazed　and　set；　and　his

jaws　slowly　loosened；　and　his　tongue　protruded　black　and　swollen。



〃Eh？　　Bon；　you　devil！〃　Leclere　gurgled　mouth　and　throat　clogged

with　his　own　blood；　as　he　shoved　the　dizzy　dog　from　him。



And　then　Leclere　cursed　the　other　dogs　off　as　they　fell　upon

Batard。　　They　drew　back　into　a　wider　circle；　squatting　alertly　on

their　haunches　and　licking　their　chops；　the　hair　on　every　neck

bristling　and　erect。



Batard　recovered　quickly；　and　at　sound　of　Leclere's　voice；　tottered

to　his　feet　and　swayed　weakly　back　and　forth。



〃A…h…ah！　　You　beeg　devil！〃　Leclere　spluttered。　　〃Ah　fix　you；　Ah　fix

you　plentee；　by　GAR！〃



Batard；　the　air　biting　into　his　exhausted　lungs　like　wine；　flashed

full　into　the　man's　face；　his　jaws　missing　and　coming　together　with

a　metallic　clip。　　They　rolled　over　and　over　on　the　snow；　Leclere

striking　madly　with　his　fists。　　Then　they　separated；　face　to　face；

and　circled　back　and　forth　before　each　other。　　Leclere　could　have

drawn　his　knife。　　His　rifle　was　at　his　feet。　　But　the　beast　in　him

was　up　and　raging。　　He　would　do　the　thing　with　his　handsand　his

teeth。　　Batard　sprang　in；　but　Leclere　knocked　him　over　with　a　blow

of　the　fist；　fell　upon　him；　and　buried　his　teeth　to　the　bone　in　the

dog's　shoulder。



It　was　a　primordial　setting　and　a　primordial　scene；　such　as　might

have　been　in　the　savage　youth　of　the　world。　　An　open　space　in　a

dark　forest；　a　ring　of　grinning　wolf…dogs；　and　in　the　centre　two

beasts；　locked　in　combat；　snapping　and　snarling　raging　madly　about

panting；　sobbing；　cursing；　straining；　wild　with　passion；　in　a　fury

of　murder；　ripping　and　tearing　and　clawing　in　elemental

brutishness。



But　Leclere　caught　Batard　behind　the　ear　with　a　blow　from　his　fist；

knocking　him　over；　and；　for　the　instant；　stunning　him。　　Then

Leclere　leaped　upon　him　with　his　feet；　and　sprang　up　and　down；

striving　to　grind　him　into　the　earth。　　Both　Batard's　hind　legs　were

broken　ere　Leclere　ceased　that　he　might　catch　breath。



〃A…a…ah！　　A…a…ah！〃　he　screamed；　incapable　of　speech；　shaking　his

fist；　through　sheer　impotence　of　throat　and　larynx。



But　Batard　was　indomitable。　　He　lay　there　in　a　helpless　welter；　his

lip　feebly　lifting　and　writhing　to　the　snarl　he　had　not　the

strength　to　utter。　　Leclere　kicked　him；　and　the　tired　jaws　closed

on　the　ankle；　but　could　not　break　the　skin。




Then　Leclere　picked　up　the　whip　and　proceeded　almost　to　cut　him　to

pieces；　at　each　stroke　of　the　lash　crying：　　〃Dis　taim　Ah　break　you！

Eh？　　By　GAR！　　Ah　break　you！〃



In　the　end；　exhausted；　fainting　from　loss　of　blood；　he　crumpled　up

and　fell　by　his　victim；　and　when　the　wolf…dogs　closed　in　to　take

their　vengeance；　with　his　last　consciousness　dragged　his　body　on

top　of　Batard　to　shield　him　from　their　fangs。



This　occurred　not　far　from　Sunrise；　and　the　missionary；　opening　the

door　to　Leclere　a　few　hours　later；　was　surprised　to　note　the

absence　of　Batard　from　the　team。　　Nor　did　his　surprise　lessen　when

Leclere　threw　back　the　robes　from　the　sled；　gathered　Batard　into

his　arms　and　staggered　across　the　threshold。　　It　happened　that　the

surgeon　of　McQuestion；　who　was　something　of　a　gadabout；　was　up　on　a

gossip；　and　between　them　they　proceeded　to　repair　Leclere；



〃Merci；　non；〃　said　he。　　〃Do　you　fix　firs'　de　dog。　　To　die？　　NON。

Eet　is　not　good。　　Becos'　heem　Ah　mus'　yet　break。　　Dat　fo'　w'at　he

mus'　not　die。〃



The　surgeon　called　it　a　marvel；　the　missionary　a　miracle；　that

Leclere　pulled　through　at　all；　and　so　weakened　was　he；　that　in　the

spring　the　fever　got　him；　and　he　went　on　his　back　again。　　Batard

had　been　in　even　worse　plight；　but　his　grip　on　life　prevailed；　and

the　bones　of　his　hind　legs　knit；　and　his　organs　righted　themselves；

during　the　several　weeks　he　lay　strapped　to　the　floor。　　And　by　the

time　Leclere；　finally　convalescent；　sallow　and　shaky；　took　the　sun

by　the　cabin　door；　Batard　had　reasserted　his　supremacy　among　his

kind；　and　brought　not　only　his　own　team…mates　but　the　missionary's

dogs　into　subjection。



He　moved　never　a　muscle；　nor　twitched　a　hair；　when；　for　the　first

time；　Leclere　tottered