the red one-第15章

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gold　on　this　creek　and　remained　over　to　work　the　ground。



They　hailed　the　advent　of　Tarwater　with　joy；　never　tired　of

listening　to　his　tales　of　Forty…Nine；　and　rechristened　him　Old

Hero。　　Also；　with　tea　made　from　spruce　needles；　with　concoctions

brewed　from　the　inner　willow　bark；　and　with　sour　and　bitter　roots

and　bulbs　from　the　ground；　they　dosed　his　scurvy　out　of　him；　so

that　he　ceased　limping　and　began　to　lay　on　flesh　over　his　bony

framework。　　Further；　they　saw　no　reason　at　all　why　he　should　not

gather　a　rich　treasure　of　gold　from　the　ground。



〃Don't　know　about　all　of　three　hundred　thousand；〃　they　told　him　one

morning；　at　breakfast；　ere　they　departed　to　their　work；　〃but　how'd

a　hundred　thousand　do；　Old　Hero？　　That's　what　we　figure　a　claim　is

worth；　the　ground　being　badly　spotted；　and　we've　already　staked

your　location　notices。〃



〃Well；　boys；〃　Old　Tarwater　answered；　〃and　thanking　you　kindly；　all

I　can　say　is　that　a　hundred　thousand　will　do　nicely；　and　very

nicely；　for　a　starter。　　Of　course；　I　ain't　goin'　to　stop　till　I　get

the　full　three　hundred　thousand。　　That's　what　I　come　into　the

country　for。〃



They　laughed　and　applauded　his　ambition　and　reckoned　they'd　have　to

hunt　a　richer　creek　for　him。　　And　Old　Hero　reckoned　that　as　the

spring　came　on　and　he　grew　spryer；　he'd　have　to　get　out　and　do　a

little　snooping　around　himself。



〃For　all　anybody　knows；〃　he　said；　pointing　to　a　hillside　across　the

creek　bottom；　〃the　moss　under　the　snow　there　may　be　plumb　rooted　in

nugget　gold。〃



He　said　no　more；　but　as　the　sun　rose　higher　and　the　days　grew

longer　and　warmer；　he　gazed　often　across　the　creek　at　the　definite

bench…formation　half　way　up　the　hill。　　And；　one　day；　when　the　thaw

was　in　full　swing；　he　crossed　the　stream　and　climbed　to　the　bench。

Exposed　patches　of　ground　had　already　thawed　an　inch　deep。　　On　one

such　patch　he　stopped；　gathered　a　bunch　of　moss　in　his　big　gnarled

hands；　and　ripped　it　out　by　the　roots。　　The　sun　smouldered　on　dully

glistening　yellow。　　He　shook　the　handful　of　moss；　and　coarse

nuggets；　like　gravel；　fell　to　the　ground。　　It　was　the　Golden　Fleece

ready　for　the　shearing。



Not　entirely　unremembered　in　Alaskan　annals　is　the　summer　stampede

of　1898　from　Fort　Yukon　to　the　bench　diggings　of　Tarwater　Hill。

And　when　Tarwater　sold　his　holdings　to　the　Bowdie　interests　for　a

sheer　half…million　and　faced　for　California；　he　rode　a　mule　over　a

new…cut　trail；　with　convenient　road　houses　along　the　way；　clear　to

the　steamboat　landing　at　Fort　Yukon。



At　the　first　meal　on　the　ocean…going　steamship　out　of　St。　Michaels；

a　waiter；　greyish…haired；　pain…ravaged　of　face；　scurvy…twisted　of

body；　served　him。　　Old　Tarwater　was　compelled　to　look　him　over

twice　in　order　to　make　certain　he　was　Charles　Crayton。



〃Got　it　bad；　eh；　son？〃　Tarwater　queried。



〃Just　my　luck；〃　the　other　complained；　after　recognition　and

greeting。　　〃Only　one　of　the　party　that　the　scurvy　attacked。　　I've

been　through　hell。　　The　other　three　are　all　at　work　and　healthy；

getting　grub…stake　to　prospect　up　White　River　this　winter。　　Anson's

earning　twenty…five　a　day　at　carpentering；　Liverpool　getting　twenty

logging　for　the　saw…mill；　and　Big　Bill's　getting　forty　a　day　as

chief　sawyer。　　I　tried　my　best；　and　if　it　hadn't　been　for　scurvy　。

。　。〃



〃Sure；　son；　you　done　your　best；　which　ain't　much；　you　being

naturally　irritable　and　hard　from　too　much　business。　　Now　I'll　tell

you　what。　　You　ain't　fit　to　work　crippled　up　this　way。　　I'll　pay

your　passage　with　the　captain　in　kind　remembrance　of　the　voyage　you

gave　me；　and　you　can　lay　up　and　take　it　easy　the　rest　of　the　trip。

And　what　are　your　circumstances　when　you　land　at　San　Francisco？〃



Charles　Crayton　shrugged　his　shoulders。



〃Tell　you　what；〃　Tarwater　continued。　　〃There's　work　on　the　ranch

for　you　till　you　can　start　business　again。〃



〃I　could　manage　your　business　for　you　…　〃　Charles　began　eagerly。



〃No；　siree；〃　Tarwater　declared　emphatically。　　〃But　there's　always

post…holes　to　dig；　and　cordwood　to　chop；　and　the　climate's　fine　。　。

。　〃



Tarwater　arrived　home　a　true　prodigal　grandfather　for　whom　the

fatted　calf　was　killed　and　ready。　　But　first；　ere　he　sat　down　at

table；　he　must　stroll　out　and　around。　　And　sons　and　daughters　of

his　flesh　and　of　the　law　needs　must　go　with　him　fulsomely　eating

out　of　the　gnarled　old　hand　that　had　half　a　million　to　disburse。

He　led　the　way；　and　no　opinion　he　slyly　uttered　was　preposterous　or

impossible　enough　to　draw　dissent　from　his　following。　　Pausing　by

the　ruined　water　wheel　which　he　had　built　from　the　standing　timber；

his　face　beamed　as　he　gazed　across　the　stretches　of　Tarwater

Valley；　and　on　and　up　the　far　heights　to　the　summit　of　Tarwater

Mountain　…　now　all　his　again。



A　thought　came　to　him　that　made　him　avert　his　face　and　blow　his

nose　in　order　to　hide　the　twinkle　in　his　eyes。　　Still　attended　by

the　entire　family；　he　strolled　on　to　the　dilapidated　barn。　　He

picked　up　an　age…weathered　single…tree　from　the　ground。



〃William；〃　he　said。　　〃Remember　that　little　conversation　we　had　just

before　I　started　to　Klondike？　　Sure；　William；　you　remember。　　You

told　me　I　was　crazy。　　And　I　said　my　father'd　have　walloped　the　tar

out　of　me　with　a　single…tree　if　I'd　spoke　to　him　that　way。〃



〃Aw；　but　that　was　only　foolin'；〃　William　temporized。



William　was　a　grizzled　man　of　forty…five；　and　his　wife　and　grown

sons　stood　in　the　group；　curiously　watching　Grandfather　Tarwater

take　off　his　coat　and　hand　it　to　Mary　to　hold。



〃William　…　come　here；〃　he　commanded　imperatively。



No　matter　how　reluctantly；　William　came。



〃Just　a　taste；　William；　son；　of　what　my　father　give　me　often

enough；〃　Old　Tarwater　crooned；　as　he　laid　on　his　son's　back　and

shoulders　with　the　single…tree。　　〃Observe；　I　ain't　hitting　you　on

the　head。　　My　father　had　a　gosh…wollickin'　temper　and　never　drew

the　line　at　heads　when　he　went　after　tar。　…　Don't　jerk　your　elbows

back　that　way！　　You're　likely　to　get　a　crack　on　one　by　accident。

And　just　tell　me　one　thing；　William；　son：　　is　there　nary　notion　in

your　head　that　I'm　crazy？〃



〃No！〃　William　yelped　out　in　pain；　as　he　danced　about。　　〃You　ain't

crazy；　father　of　course　you　ain't　crazy！〃



〃You　said　it；〃　Old　Tarwater　remarked　sententiously；　tossing　the

single…tree　aside　and　starting　to　struggle　into　his　coat。



〃Now　let's　all　go　in　and　eat。〃



Glen　Ellen；　California；

SEPTEMBER　14；　1916。









STORY：　　THE　PRINCESS









A　FIRE　burned　cheerfully　in　the　jungle　camp；　and　beside　the　fire

lolled　a　cheerful…seeming　though　horrible…appearing　man。　　This　was

a　hobo　jungle；　pitched　in　a　thin　strip　of　woods　that　lay　between　a

railroad　embankment　and　the　bank　of　a　river。　　But　no　hobo　was　the

man。　　So　deep…sunk　was　he　in　the　social　abyss　that　a　proper　hobo

would　not　sit　by　the　same　fire　with　him。　　A　gay…cat；　who　is　an

ignorant　new…comer　on　the　〃Road；〃　might　sit　with　such　as　he；　but

only　long　enough　to　learn　better。　　Even　low　down　bindle…stiffs　and

stew…bums；　after　a　once…over；　would　have　passed　this　man　by。　　A

genuine　hobo；　a　couple　of　punks；　or　a　bunch　of　tender…yeared　road…

kids　might　have　gone　through　his　rags　for　any　stray　pennies　or

nickels　and　kicked　him　out　into　the　darkness。　　Even　an　alki…stiff

would　have　reckoned　himself　immeasurably　superior。



For　this　man　was　that　hybrid　of　tramp…land；　an　alki…stiff　that　has

degenerated　into　a　stew…bum；　with　so　little　self…respect　that　he

will　never　〃boil…up；〃　and　with　so　little　pride　that　he　will　eat　out

of　a　garbage　can。　　He　was　truly　horrible…appearing。　　He　might　have

been　sixty　years　of　age；　he　might　have　been　ninety。　　His　garments

might　have　been　discarded　by　a　rag…picker。　　Beside　him；　an　unrolled

bundle　showed　itself　as　consisting　of　a　ragged　overcoat　and

containing　an　empty　and　smoke…blackened　tomato　can；　an　empty　and

battered　condensed　milk　can；　some　dog…meat　partly　wrapped　in　brown

paper　and　evidently　begged　from　some　butcher…shop；　a　carrot　that

had　been　run　over　in　the　street　by　a　wagon…wheel；　three　greenish…

cankered　and　decayed　potatoes；　and　a　sugar…bun　with　a　mouthful

bitten　from　it　and　rescued　from　the　gutter；　as　was　made　patent　by

the　gutter…filth　that　still　encrusted　it。



A　prodigious　growth　of　whiskers；　greyish…dirty　and　untrimmed　for

years；　sprouted　from　his　face。　　This　hirsute　growth　should　have

been　white；　but　the　season　was　summer　and　it　had　not　been　exposed

to　a　rain…shower　for　some　time。　　What　was　visible　of　the　face

looked　as　if　at　some　period　it　had　stopped　a　hand…grenade。　　The

nose　was　so　variously　malformed　in　its　healed　brokenness　that　there

was　no　bridge；　while　one　nostril；　the　size　of　a　pea；　opened

downward；　and　the　other；　the　size　of　a　robin's　egg；　tilted　upward

to　the　sky。　　One　eye；　of　normal　size；　dim…brown　and　misty；　bulged

to　the　verge　of　popping　out；　and　as　if　from　senility　wept　copiously

and　continuously。　　The　other　eye；　scarcely　larger　than　a　squirrel's

and　as　uncannily　bright；　twisted　up　obliquely　into　the　hairy　scar

of　a　bone…crushed　eyebrow。　　And　he　had　but　one　arm。



Yet　was　he　cheerful。　　On　his　face；　in　mild　degree；　was　depicted

sensuous　pleasure　as　he　lethargically　scratched　his　ribs　with　his

one　hand。　　He　pawed　over　his　food…scraps；　debated；　then　drew　a

twelve…ounce　druggist　bottle　from　his　inside　coat…pocket。　　The

bottle　was　full　of　a　colourless　liquid；　the　contemplation　of　which

made　his　little　eye　burn　brighter　and　quickened　his　movements。

Picking　up　the　tomato　can；　he　arose；　went　down　the　short　path　to

the　river；　and　returned　with　the　can　filled　with　not…nice　river

water。　　In　the　condensed　milk　can　he　mixed　one　part　of　water　with

two　parts　of　fluid　from　the　bottle。　　This　colourless　fluid　was

druggist's　alcohol；　and　as　such　is　known　in　tramp…land　as　〃alki。〃



Slow　footsteps；　coming　down　the　side　of　the　railroad　embankment；

alarmed　him　ere　he　could　drink。　　Placing　the　can　carefully　upon　the

ground　between　his　legs；　he　covered　it　with　his　hat　and　waited

anxiously　whatever　impended。



Out　of　the　darkness　emerged　a　man　as　filthy　ragged　as　he。　　The　new…

comer；　who　might　have　been　fifty；　and　might　have　been　sixty；　was

grotesquely　fat。　　He　bulged　everywhere。　　He　was　composed　of　bulges。

His　bulbous　nose　was　the　size　and　shape　of　a　turnip。　　His　eyelids

bulged　and　his　blue　eyes　bulged　in　competition　with　them。　　In　many

places　the　seams　of　his　garments　had　parted　across　the　bulges　of

body。　　His　calves　grew　into　his　feet；　for　the　broken　elastic　sides

of　his　Congress　gaiters　were　swelled　full　with　the　fat　of　him。　　One

arm　only　he　sported；　from　the　shoulder　of　which　was　suspended　a

small　and　tattered　bundle　with　the　mud　caked　dry　on　the　outer

covering　from　the　last　place　he　had　pitched　his　doss。　　He　advanced

with　tentative　caution；　made　sure　of　the　harmlessness　of　the　man

beside　the　fire；　and　joined　him。



〃Hello；　grandpa；〃　the　new…comer　greeted；　th