black rock-第5章

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depend　upon　the　skill　of　the　drivers　quite　as　much　as　upon　the
speed　of　the　teams。　　The　points　of　hazard　were　at　the　turn　round
the　Old　Fort；　and　at　a　little　ravine　which　led　down　to　the　river；
over　which　the　road　passed　by　means　of　a　long　log　bridge　or
causeway。

From　a　point　upon　the　high　bank　of　the　river　the　whole　course　lay
in　open　view。　　It　was　a　scene　full　of　life　and　vividly　picturesque。
There　were　miners　in　dark　clothes　and　peak　caps；　citizens　in
ordinary　garb；　ranchmen　in　wide　cowboy　hats　and　buckskin　shirts　and
leggings；　some　with　cartridge…belts　and　pistols；　a　few　half…breeds
and　Indians　in　half…native；　half…civilised　dress；　and　scattering
through　the　crowd　the　lumbermen　with　gay　scarlet　and　blue　blanket
coats；　and　some　with　knitted　tuques　of　the　same　colours。　　A　very
good…natured　but　extremely　uncertain　crowd　it　was。　　At　the　head　of
each　horse　stood　a　man；　but　at　the　pintos'　heads　Baptiste　stood
alone；　trying　to　hold　down　the　off　leader；　thrown　into　a　frenzy　of
fear　by　the　yelling　of　the　crowd。

Gradually　all　became　quiet；　till；　in　the　midst　of　absolute
stillness；　came　the　words；　'Are　you　ready？'；　then　the　pistol…shot
and　the　great　race　had　begun。　　Above　the　roar　of　the　crowd　came　the
shrill　cry　of　Baptiste；　as　he　struck　his　broncho　with　the　palm　of
his　hand；　and　swung　himself　into　the　sleigh　beside　Sandy；　as　it
shot　past。

Like　a　flash　the　bronchos　sprang　to　the　front；　two　lengths　before
the　other　teams；　but；　terrified　by　the　yelling　of　the　crowd；
instead　of　bending　to　the　left　bank　up　which　the　road　wound；　they
wheeled　to　the　right　and　were　almost　across　the　river　before　Sandy
could　swing　them　back　into　the　course。

Baptiste's　cries；　a　curious　mixture　of　French　and　English；
continued　to　strike　through　all　other　sounds　till　they　gained　the
top　of　the　slope　to　find　the　others　almost　a　hundred　yards　in
front；　the　citizens'　team　leading；　with　the　miners'　following
close。　　The　moment　the　pintos　caught　sight　of　the　teams　before　them
they　set　off　at　a　terrific　pace　and　steadily　devoured　the
intervening　space。　　Nearer　and　nearer　the　turn　came；　the　eight
horses　in　front；　running　straight　and　well　within　their　speed。
After　them　flew　the　pintos；　running　savagely　with　ears　set　back；
leading　well　the　big　roans；　thundering　along　and　gaining　at　every
bound。　　And　now　the　citizens'　team　had　almost　reached　the　Fort；
running　hard；　and　drawing　away　from　the　bays。　　But　Nixon　knew　what
he　was　about；　and　was　simply　steadying　his　team　for　the　turn。　　The
event　proved　his　wisdom；　for　in　the　turn　the　leading　team　left　the
track；　lost　a　moment　or　two　in　the　deep　snow；　and　before　they　could
regain　the　road　the　bays　had　swept　superbly　past；　leaving　their
rivals　to　follow　in　the　rear。　　On　came　the　pintos；　swiftly　nearing
the　Fort。　　Surely　at　that　pace　they　cannot　make　the　turn。　　But
Sandy　knows　his　leaders。　　They　have　their　eyes　upon　the　teams　in
front；　and　need　no　touch　of　rein。　　Without　the　slightest　change　in
speed　the　nimble…footed　bronchos　round　the　turn；　hauling　the　big
roans　after　them；　and　fall　in　behind　the　citizens'　team；　which　is
regaining　steadily　the　ground　lost　in　the　turn。

And　now　the　struggle　is　for　the　bridge　over　the　ravine。　　The　bays
in　front；　running　with　mouths　wide　open；　are　evidently　doing　their
best；　behind　them；　and　every　moment　nearing　them；　but　at　the　limit
of　their　speed　too；　come　the　lighter　and　fleeter　citizens'　team；
while　opposite　their　driver　are　the　pintos；　pulling　hard；　eager　and
fresh。　　Their　temper　is　too　uncertain　to　send　them　to　the　front；
they　run　well　following；　but　when　leading　cannot　be　trusted；　and
besides；　a　broncho　hates　a　bridge；　so　Sandy　holds　them　where　they
are；　waiting　and　hoping　for　his　chance　after　the　bridge　is　crossed。
Foot　by　foot　the　citizens'　team　creep　up　upon　the　flank　of　the
bays；　with　the　pintos　in　turn　hugging　them　closely；　till　it　seems
as　if　the　three；　if　none　slackens；　must　strike　the　bridge　together；
and　this　will　mean　destruction　to　one　at　least。　　This　danger　Sandy
perceives；　but　he　dare　not　check　his　leaders。　　Suddenly；　within　a
few　yards　of　the　bridge；　Baptiste　throws　himself　upon　the　lines；
wrenches　them　out　of　Sandy's　hands；　and；　with　a　quick　swing；　faces
the　pintos　down　the　steep　side　of　the　ravine；　which　is　almost　sheer
ice　with　a　thin　coat　of　snow。　　It　is　a　daring　course　to　take；　for
the　ravine；　though　not　deep；　is　full　of　undergrowth；　and　is
partially　closed　up　by　a　brush　heap　at　the　further　end。　　But；　with
a　yell；　Baptiste　hurls　his　four　horses　down　the　slope；　and　into　the
undergrowth。　　'Allons；　mes　enfants！　　Courage！　vite；　vite！'　cries
their　driver；　and　nobly　do　the　pintos　respond。　　Regardless　of
bushes　and　brush　heaps；　they　tear　their　way　through；　but；　as　they
emerge；　the　hind　bob…sleigh　catches　a　root；　and；　with　a　crash；　the
sleigh　is　hurled　high　in　the　air。　　Baptiste's　cries　ring　out　high
and　shrill　as　ever；　encouraging　his　team；　and　never　cease　till；
with　a　plunge　and　a　scramble；　they　clear　the　brush　heap　lying　at
the　mouth　of　the　ravine；　and　are　out　on　the　ice　on　the　river；　with
Baptiste　standing　on　the　front　bob；　the　box　trailing　behind；　and
Sandy　nowhere　to　be　seen。

Three　hundred　yards　of　the　course　remain。　　The　bays；　perfectly
handled；　have　gained　at　the　bridge　and　in　the　descent　to　the　ice；
and　are　leading　the　citizens'　team　by　half　a　dozen　sleigh　lengths。
Behind　both　comes　Baptiste。　　It　is　now　or　never　for　the　pintos。
The　rattle　of　the　trailing　box；　together　with　the　wild　yelling　of
the　crowd　rushing　down　the　bank；　excites　the　bronchos　to　madness；
and；　taking　the　bits　in　their　teeth；　they　do　their　first　free
running　that　day。　　Past　the　citizens'　team　like　a　whirlwind　they
dash；　clear　the　intervening　space；　and　gain　the　flanks　of　the　bays。
Can　the　bays　hold　them？　　Over　them　leans　their　driver；　plying　for
the　first　time　the　hissing　lash。　　Only　fifty　yards　more。　　The
miners　begin　to　yell。　　But　Baptiste；　waving　his　lines　high　in　one
hand　seizes　his　tuque　with　the　other；　whirls　it　about　his　head　and
flings　it　with　a　fiercer　yell　than　ever　at　the　bronchos。　　Like　the
bursting　of　a　hurricane　the　pintos　leap　forward；　and　with　a
splendid　rush　cross　the　scratch；　winners　by　their　own　length。

There　was　a　wild　quarter　of　an　hour。　　The　shantymen　had　torn　off
their　coats　and　were　waving　them　wildly　and　tossing　them　high；
while　the　ranchers　added　to　the　uproar　by　emptying　their　revolvers
into　the　air　in　a　way　that　made　one　nervous。

When　the　crowd　was　somewhat　quieted　Sandy's　stiff　figure　appeared；
slowly　making　towards　them。　　A　dozen　lumbermen　ran　to　him；　eagerly
inquiring　if　he　were　hurt。　　But　Sandy　could　only　curse　the　little
Frenchman　for　losing　the　race。

'Lost！　　Why；　man；　we've　won　it！'　shouted　a　voice；　at　which　Sandy's
rage　vanished；　and　he　allowed　himself　to　be　carried　in　upon　the
shoulders　of　his　admirers。

'Where's　the　lad？'　was　his　first　question。

The　bronchos　are　off　with　him。　　He's　down　at　the　rapids　like
enough。'

'Let　me　go；'　shouted　Sandy；　setting　off　at　a　run　in　the　track　of
the　sleigh。　　He　had　not　gone　far　before　he　met　Baptiste　coming　back
with　his　team　foaming；　the　roans　going　quietly；　but　the　bronchos
dancing；　and　eager　to　be　at　it　again。

'Voila！　bully　boy！　tank　the　bon　Dieu；　Sandy；　you　not　keel；　heh？
Ah！　you　are　one　grand　chevalier；'　exclaimed　Baptiste；　hauling　Sandy
in　and　thrusting　the　lines　into　his　hands。　　And　so　they　came　back；
the　sleigh　box　still　dragging　behind；　the　pintos　executing
fantastic　figures　on　their　hind　legs；　and　Sandy　holding　them　down。
The　little　Frenchman　struck　a　dramatic　attitude　and　called　out

'Voila！　　What's　the　matter　wiz　Sandy；　heh？'

The　roar　that　answered　set　the　bronchos　off　again　plunging　and
kicking；　and　only　when　Baptiste　got　them　by　the　heads　could　they　be
induced　to　stand　long　enough　to　allow　Sandy　to　be　proclaimed　winner
of　the　race。　　Several　of　the　lumbermen　sprang　into　the　sleigh　box
with　Sandy　and　Baptiste；　among　them　Keefe；　followed　by　Nelson；　and
the　first　part　of　the　great　day　was　over。　　Slavin　could　not
understand　the　new　order　of　things。　　That　a　great　event　like　the
four…horse　race　should　not　be　followed　by　'drinks　all　round'　was　to
him　at　once　disgusting　and　incomprehensible；　and；　realising　his
defeat　for　the　moment；　he　fell　into　the　crowd　and　disappeared。　　But
he　left　behind　him　his　'runners。'　　He　had　not　yet　thrown　up　the
game。

Mr。　Craig　meantime　came　to　me；　and；　looking　anxiously　after　Sandy
in　his　sleigh；　with　his　frantic　crowd　of　yelling　admirers；　said　in
a　gloomy　voice；　'Poor　Sandy！　　He　is　easily　caught；　and　Keefe　has
the　devil's　cunning。'

'He　won't　touch　Slavin's　whisky　to…day；'　I　answered　confidently。

'There'll　be　twenty　bottles　waiting　him　in　the　stable；'　he　replied
bitterly；　'and　I　can't　go　following　him　up。'

'He　won't　stand　that；　no　man　would。　　God　help　us　all。'　　I　could
hardly　recognise　myself；　for　I　found　in　my　heart　an　earnest　echo　to
that　prayer　as　I　watched　him　go　toward　the　crowd　again；　his　face
set　in　strong　determination。　　He　looked　like　the　captain　of　a
forlorn　hope；　and　I　was　proud　to　be　following　him。


CHAPTER　III

WATERLOO。　　OUR　FIGHTHIS　VICTORY


The　sports　were　over；　and　there　remained　still　an　hour　to　be　filled
in　before　dinner。　　It　was　an　hour　full　of　danger　to　Craig's　hopes
of　victory；　for　the　men　were　wild　with　excitement；　and　ready　for
the　most　reckless　means　of　'slinging　their　dust。'　　I　could　not　but
admire　the　skill　with　which　Mr。　Craig　caught　their　attention。

'Gentlemen；'　he　called　out；　'we've　forgotten　the　judge　of　the　great
race。　　Three　cheers　for　Mr。　Connor！'

Two　of　the　shantymen　picked　me　up　and　hoisted　me　on　their　shoulders
while　the　cheers　were　given。

'Announce　the　Punch　and　Judy；'　he　entreated　me；　in　a　low　voice。　　I
did　so　in　a　little　speech；　and　was　forthwith　borne　aloft；　through
the　street　to　the　booth；　followed　by　the　whole　crowd；　cheering　like
mad。

The　excitement　of　the　crowd　caught　me；　and　for　an　hour　I　squeaked
and　worked　the　wires　of　the　immortal　and　unhappy　family　in　a　manner
hitherto　unapproached　by　me　at　least。　　I　was　glad　enough　when
Graeme　came　to　tell　me　to　send　the　men　in　to　dinner。　　This　Mr。
Punch　did　in　the　most　gracious　manner；　and　again　with　cheers　for
Punch's　master　they　trooped　tumultuously　into　the　tent。

We　had　only　well　begun　when　Baptiste　came　in　quietly　but　hurriedly
and　whispered　to　me

'M'sieu　Craig；　he's　gone　to　Slavin's；　and　would　lak　you　and　M'sieu
Graeme　would　follow　queek。　　Sandy　he's　take　one　leel　drink　up　at　de
stable；　and　he's　go　mad　lak　one　diable。'

I　sent　him　for　Graeme；　who　was　presiding　at　dinner；　and　set　off　for
Slavin's　at　a　run。　　There　I　found　Mr。　Craig　and　Nelson　holding
Sandy；　more　than　half　drunk；　back　from　Slavin；　who；　stripped　to　the
shirt；　was　coolly　waiting　with　a　taunting　smile。

'Let　me　go；　Mr。　Craig；'　Sandy　was　saying；　'I　am　a　good　Presbyterian。
He　is　a　Papist　thief；　and　he　has　my　money；　and　I　will　have　it　out
of　the　soul　of　him。'

'Let　him　go；　preacher；'　sneered　Slavin；　'I'll　cool　him　off　for　yez。
But　ye'd　better　hold　him　if　yez　wants　his　mug　left　on　to　him。'

'Let　him　go！'　Keefe　was　shouting。

'Hands　off！'　Blaney　was　echoing。

I　pushed　my　way　in。　　'What's　up？'　I　cried。

'Mr。　Connor；'　said　Sandy　solem