eben holden-第13章

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　over　the　stream　jiggling　his　hook。　In　a　moment　I　saw　a　tug　at　the　line。　The　end　of　his　pole　went　under　water　like　a　flash。　It　bent　double　as　Uncle　Eb　gave　it　a　lift。　The　fish　began　to　dive　and　rush。　The　line　cut　the　water　in　a　broad　semicircle　and　then　went　far　and　near　with　long；　quick　slashes。　The　pole　nodded　and　writhed　like　a　thing　of　life。　Then　Uncle　Eb　had　a　look　on　him　that　is　one　of　the　treasures　of　my　memory。　In　a　moment　the　fish　went　away　with　such　a　violent　rush；　to　save　him；　he　had　to　throw　his　pole　into　the　water。

'Heavens　an'　airth！'　he　shouted；　'the　ol'　settler！'

The　pole　turned　quickly　and　went　lengthwise　into　the　rapids。　He　ran　down　the　bank　and　I　after　him。　The　pole　was　speeding　through　the　swift　water。　We　scrambled　over　logs　and　through　bushes；　but　the　pole　went　faster　than　we。　Presently　it　stopped　and　swung　around。　Uncle　Eb　went　splashing　into　the　brook。　Almost　within　reach　of　the　pole　he　dashed　his　foot　upon　a　stone；　falling　headlong　in　the　current。　I　was　close　upon　his　heels　and　gave　him　a　hand。　He　rose　hatless；　dripping　from　head　to　foot　and　pressed　on。　He　lifted　his　pole。　The　line　clung　to　a　snag　and　then　gave　way；　the　tackle　was　missing。　He　looked　at　it　silently；　tilting　his　head。　We　walked　slowly　to　the　shore。　Neither　spoke　for　a　moment。

'Must　have　been　a　big　fish；'　I　remarked。

'Powerful！'　said　he；　chewing　vigorously　on　his　quid　of　tobacco　as　he　shook　his　head　and　looked　down　at　his　wet　clothing。　'In　a　desp'rit　fix；　ain't　I？'

'Too　bad！'　I　exclaimed。

'Seldom　ever　hed　sech　a　disapp'intrnent〃　he　said。　'Ruther　counted　on　ketchin'　thet　fish　…　he　was　s'　well　hooked。'

He　looked　longingly　at　the　water　a　moment　'If　I　don't　go　hum；'　said　he；　'an'　keep　my　mouth　shet　I'll　say　sumthin'　I'll　be　sorry　fer。'

He　was　never　quite　the　same　after　that。　He　told　often　of　his　struggle　with　this　unseen；　mysterious　fish　and　I　imagined　he　was　a　bit　more　given　to　reflection。　He　had　had　hold　of　the　'ol'　settler　of　Deep　Hole'　…　a　fish　of　great　influence　and　renown　there　in　Faraway。　Most　of　the　local　fishermen　had　felt　him　tug　at　the　line　one　time　or　another。　No　man　had　ever　seen　him　for　the　water　was　black　in　Deep　Hole。　No　fish　had　ever　exerted　a　greater　influence　on　the　thought'　the　imagination；　the　manners　or　the　moral　character　of　his　contemporaries。　Tip　Taylor　always　took　off　his　hat　and　sighed　when　he　spoke　of　the　'ol'　settler'。　Ransom　Walker　said　he　had　once　seen　his　top　fin　and　thought　it　longer　than　a　razor。　Ransom　took　to　idleness　and　chewing　tobacco　immediately　after　his　encounter　with　the　big　fish；　and　both　vices　stuck　to　him　as　long　as　he　lived。　Everyone　had　his　theory　of　the　'ol'　settler'。　Most　agreed　he　was　a　very　heavy　trout。　Tip　Taylor　used　to　say　that　in　his　opinion　''twas　nuthin'　more'n　a　plain；　overgrown；　common　sucker；'　but　Tip　came　from　the　Sucker　Brook　country　where　suckers　lived　in　colder　water　and　were　more　entitled　to　respect。

Mose　Tupper　had　never　had　his　hook　in　the　'ol'　settler'　and　would　believe　none　of　the　many　stories　of　adventure　at　Deep　Hole　that　had　thrilled　the　township。

'Thet　fish　hes　made　s'　many　liars　'round　here　ye　dimno　who　t'　b'lieve；'　he　had　said　at　the　corners　one　day；　after　Uncle　Eb　had　told　his　story　of　the　big　fish。　'Somebody　't　knows　how　t'　fish　hed　oughter　go　'n　ketch　him　fer　the　good　o'　the　town　…　thet's　what　I　think。'

Now　Mr　Tupper　was　an　excellent　man　but　his　incredulity　was　always　too　bluntly　put。　It　had　even　led　to　some　ill　feeling。

He　came　in　at　our　place　one　evening　with　a　big　hook　and　line　from　'down　east'　…　the　kind　of　tackle　used　in　salt　water。

'What　ye　goin'　t'　dew　with　it？'　Uncle　Eb　enquired。

'Ketch　thet　fish　ye　talk　5'　much　about　…　goin'　t'　put　him　out　o'　the　way。'

''Tain't　fair；'　said　Uncle　Eb；　'its　reedic'lous。　Like　leading　a　pup　with　a　log　chain。'

'Don't　care；'　said　Mose；　'I'm　goin'　t'　go　fishin　t'morrer。　If　there　reely　is　any　sech　fish　…　which　I　don't　believe　there　is　…　I'm　goin'　t'　rassle　with　him　an'　mebbe　tek　him　out　o'　the　river。　Thet　fish　is　sp'llin'　the　moral　character　o'　this　town。　He　oughter　be　rode　on　a　rail　…　thet　fish　hed。'

How　he　would　punish　a　trout　in　that　manner　Mr　Tupper　failed　to　explain；　but　his　metaphor　was　always　a　worse　fit　than　his　trousers　and　that　was　bad　enough。

It　was　just　before　haying　and；　there　being　little　to　do；　we　had　also　planned　to　try　our　luck　in　the　morning。　When；　at　sunrise；　we　were　walking　down　the　cow…path　to　the　woods　I　saw　Uncle　Eb　had　a　coil　of　bed　cord　on　his　shoulder。

'What's　that　for？'　I　asked。

'Wall；'　said　he；　'goin'　t'　hev　fun　anyway。　If　we　can't　ketch　one　thing　we'll　try　another。'

We　had　great　luck　that　morning　and　when　our　basket　was　near　full　we　came　to　Deep　Hole　and　made　ready　for　a　swim　in　the　water　above　it。　Uncle　Eb　had　looped　an　end　of　the　bed　cord　and　tied　a　few　pebbles　on　it　with　bits　of　string。

'Now；'　said　he　presently；　'I　want　t'　sink　this　loop　t'　the　bottom　an'　pass　the　end　o'　the　cord　under　the　driftwood　so　't　we　can　fetch　it　'crost　under　water。'

There　was　a　big　stump；　just　opposite；　with　roots　running　down　the　bank　into　the　stream。　I　shoved　the　line　under　the　drift　with　a　pole　and　then　hauled　it　across　where　Uncle　Eb　drew　it　up　the　bank　under　the　stump　roots。

'In　'bout　half　an　hour　I　cal'late　Mose　Tupper'll　be　'long；'　he　whispered。　'Wisht　ye'd　put　on　yer　clo's　an'　lay　here　back　o'　the　stump　an'　hold　on　t'　the　cord。　When　ye　feel　a　bite　give　a　yank　er　two　an'　haul　in　like　Sam　Hill　…　fifteen　feet　er　more　quicker'n　scat。　Snatch　his　pole　right　away　from　him。　Then　lay　still。'

Uncle　Eb　left　me；　shortly；　going　up　stream。　It　was　near　an　hour　before　I　heard　them　coming。　Uncle　Eb　was　talking　in　a　low　tone　as　they　came　down　the　other　bank。

'Drop　right　in　there；'　he　was　saying；　'an'　let　her　drag　down；　through　the　deep　water；　deliberate　like。　Git　clus　t'　the　bottom。'

Peering　through　a　screen　of　bushes　I　could　see　an　eager　look　on　the　unlovely　face　of　Moses。　He　stood　leaning　toward　the　water　and　jiggling　his　hook　along　the　bottom。　Suddenly　I　saw　Mose　jerk　and　felt　the　cord　move。　I　gave　it　a　double　twitch　and　began　to　pull。　He　held　hard　for　a　jiffy　and　then　stumbled　and　let　go　yelling　like　mad。　The　pole　hit　the　water　with　a　splash　and　went　out　of　sight　like　a　diving　frog。　I　brought　it　well　under　the　foam　and　driftwood。　Deep　Hole　resumed　its　calm；　unruffled　aspect。　Mose　went　running　toward　Uncle　Eb。　

''S　a　whale！'　he　shouted。　'Ripped　the　pole　away　quicker'n　lightnin'。'

'Where　is　it？'　Uncle　Eb　asked。

'Tuk　it　away　fm　me；'　said　Moses。　'Grabbed　it　jes'　like　thet〃　he　added　with　a　violent　jerk　of　his　hand。

'What　d'　he　dew　with　it？'　Uncle　Eb　enquired。

Mose　looked　thoughtfully　at　the　water　and　scratched　his　head；　his　features　all　a　tremble。

'Dunno；'　said　he。　'Swallered　it　mebbe。'

'Mean　t'　say　ye　lost　hook；　line；　sinker　'n　pole？'

'Hook；　line；　sinker　'n　pole；'　he　answered　mournfully。　'Come　nigh　haulin'　me　in　tew。'

''Tain't　possible；'　said　Uncle　Eb。

Mose　expectorated；　his　hands　upon　his　hips；　looking　down　at　the　water。

'Wouldn't　eggzac'ly　say　'twas　possible；'　he　drawled；　'but　'twas　a　fact。'

'Yer　mistaken；'　said　Uncle　Eb。

'No　I　hain't〃　was　the　answer；　'I　tell　ye　I　see　it。'

'Then　if　ye　see　it　the　nex'　thing　ye　orter　see　's　a　doctor。　There's　sumthin'　wrong　with　you　sumwheres。'

'Only　one　thing　the　matter　o'　me；'　said　Mose　with　a　little　twinge　of　remorse。　'I'm　jest　a　natural　born　perfec'　dum　fool。　Never　c'u'd　b'lieve　there　was　any　sech　fish。'

'Nobody　ever　said　there　was　any　sech　fish；'　said　Uncle　Eb。　'He's　done　more　t'　you　'n　he　ever　done　t'　me。　Never　served　me　no　sech　trick　as　thet。　If　I　was　you　I'd　never　ask　nobody　t'　b'lieve　it　'S　a　leetle　tew　much。'

Mose　went　slowly　and　picked　up　his　hat。　Then　he　returned　to　the　bank　and　looked　regretfully　at　the　water。

'Never　see　the　beat　o'　thet；'　he　went　on。　'Never　see　sech　power　'n　a　fish。　Knocks　the　spots　off　any　fish　I　ever　hearn　of。'

'Ye　riled　him　with　that　big　tackle　o'　yourn；'　said　Uncle　Eb。　'He　wouldn't　stan'　it。'

'Feel　jest　as　if　I'd　hed　holt　uv　a　wil'　cat〃　said　Mose。　'Tuk　the　hull　thing　…　pole　an'　all　…　quicker　'n　lightnin'。　Nice　a　bit　o'　hickory　as　a　man　ever　see。　Gol'　durned　if　I　ever　heem　o'　the　like　o'　that；　ever。'

He　sat　down　a　moment　on　the　bank。

'Got　t'　rest　a　minute；'　he　remarked。　'Feel　kind　o'　wopsy　after　thet　squabble。'

They　soon　went　away。　And　when　Mose　told　the　story　of　'the　swallered　pole'　he　got　the　same　sort　of　reputation　he　had　given　to　others。　Only　it　was　real　and　large　and　lasting。

'Wha'　d'　ye　think　uv　it？'　he　asked；　when　he　had　finished。

'Wall；'　said　Ransom　Walker；　'wouldn't　want　t'　say　right　out　plain　t'　yer　face。'

''Twouldn't　he　p'lite；'　said　Uncle　Eb　soberly。

'Sound　a　leetle　ha'sh；'　Tip　Taylor　added。

'Thet　fish　has　jerked　the　fear　o'　God　out　o'　ye　…　thet's　the　way　it　looks　t'　me；'　said　Carlyle　Barber。

'Yer　up　'n　the　air；　Mose；'　said　another。　'Need　a　sinker　on　ye。'　They　bullied　him　…　they　talked　him　down；　demurring　mildly；　but　firmly。

'Tell　ye　what　I'll　do；'　said　Mose　sheepishly；　'I'll　b'lieve　you　fellers　if　you'll　b'lieve　me。'

'What；　swop　even？　Not　much！'　said　one；　with　emphasis。'　'Twouldn't　be　fair。　Ye've　ast　us　t'　b'lieve　a　genuwine　out　'n　out　impossibility。'

Mose　lifted　his　hat　and　scratched　his　head　thoughtfully。　There　was　a　look　of　embarrassment　in　his　face。

'Might　a　ben　dreamin'；'　said　he　slowly。　'I　swear　it's　gittin'　so　here　'n　this　town　a　feller　can't　hardly　b'lieve　himself。'

'Fur　'5　my　experience　goes；'　said　Ransom　Walker；　'he'd　be　a　fool　'f　he　did。'

''Minds　me　o'　the　time　I　went　fishin'　with　Ab　Thomas；'　said　Uncle　Eb。　'He　ketched　an　ol'　socker　the　fast　thing。　I　went　off　by　myself　'n　got　a　good　sized　fish；　but　'twant　s'　big　's　hisn。　So　I　tuk　'n　opened　his　mouth　n　poured　in　a　lot　o'　fine　shot。　When　I　come　back　Ab　he　looked　at　my　fish　'n　begun　t'　brag。　When　we　weighed　'em　mine　was　a　leetle　heavier。

'〃What！〃　says　he。　〃'Tain't　possible　thet　leetle　cuss　uv　a　trout　's　heavier　'n　mine。〃

''Tis　sarrin；〃　I　said。

''Dummed　deceivin'　business；〃　said　he　as　he　hefted　'em　both。　〃Gittin'　so　ye　can't　hardly　b'lieve　the　stillyards。〃'

Chapter　11

The　fifth　summer　was　passing　since　we　came　down　Paradise　Road　…　the　dog；　Uncle　Eb　and　I。　Times　innumerable　I　had　heard　my　good　old　friend　tell　the　story　of　our　coming　west　until　its　every　incident　was　familiar　to　me　as　the　alphabet。　Else　I　fear　my　youthful　memory　would　have　served　me　poorly　for　a　chronicle　of　my　childhood　so　exact　and　so　extended　as　this　I　have　written。　Uncle　Eb's　hair　was　white　now　and　the　voices　of　the　swift　and　the　panther　had　grown　mild　and　tremulous　and　unsatisfactory　and　even　absurd。　Time　had　tamed　the　monsters　of　that　imaginary　wilderness　and　I　had　begun　to　lose　my　respect　for　them。　But　one　fear　had　remained　with　me　as　I　grew　older　…　the　fear　of　the　night　man。　Every　boy　and　girl　in　the　valley　trembled　at　the　mention　of　him。　Many　a　time　I　had　held　awake　in　the　late　evening　to　hear　the　men　talk　of　him　before　they　went　asleep　…　Uncle　Eb　and　Tip　Taylor。　I　remember　a　night　when　Tip　said；　in　a　low　awesome　tone；　that　he　was　a　ghost。　The　word　carried　into　my　soul　the　first　thought　of　its　great　and　fearful　mystery。

'Years　and　years　ago；'　said　he；　'there　was　a　boy　by　the　name　of　Nehemiah　Brower。　An'　he　killed　another　boy；　once；　by　accident　an