lost face(丢失的脸)-第12章
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never pleaded like a deer's eyes。 They challenged。 No； it wasn't
defiance。 It was just a calm assumption of equality。 And I don't think it
was deliberate。 My belief is that it was unconscious on his part。 It was
there because it was there； and it couldn't help shining out。 No； I don't
mean shine。 It didn't shine； it MOVED。 I know I'm talking rot； but if
you'd looked into that animal's eyes the way I have； you'd understand。
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Steve was affected the same way I was。 Why； I tried to kill that Spot
oncehe was no good for anything； and I fell down on it。 I led him out
into the brush； and he came along slow and unwilling。 He knew what
was going on。 I stopped in a likely place； put my foot on the rope； and
pulled my big Colt's。 And that dog sat down and looked at me。 I tell
you he didn't plead。 He just looked。 And I saw all kinds of
incomprehensible things moving； yes； MOVING； in those eyes of his。 I
didn't really see them move； I thought I saw them； for； as I said before； I
guess I only sensed them。 And I want to tell you right now that it got
beyond me。 It was like killing a man； a conscious； brave man； who
looked calmly into your gun as much as to say； 〃Who's afraid？〃
Then； too； the message seemed so near that； instead of pulling the
trigger quick； I stopped to see if I could catch the message。 There it was；
right before me； glimmering all around in those eyes of his。 And then it
was too late。 I got scared。 I was trembly all over； and my stomach
generated a nervous palpitation that made me seasick。 I just sat down
and looked at the dog； and he looked at me； till I thought I was going crazy。
Do you want to know what I did？ I threw down the gun and ran back to
camp with the fear of God in my heart。 Steve laughed at me。 But I notice
that Steve led Spot into the woods； a week later； for the same purpose； and
that Steve came back alone； and a little later Spot drifted back； too。
At any rate； Spot wouldn't work。 We paid a hundred and ten dollars
for him from the bottom of our sack； and he wouldn't work。 He wouldn't
even tighten the traces。 Steve spoke to him the first time we put him in
harness； and he sort of shivered； that was all。 Not an ounce on the traces。
He just stood still and wobbled； like so much jelly。 Steve touched him
with the whip。 He yelped； but not an ounce。 Steve touched him again；
a bit harder； and he howledthe regular long wolf howl。 Then Steve got
mad and gave him half a dozen； and I came on the run from the tent。
I told Steve he was brutal with the animal； and we had some words
the first we'd ever had。 He threw the whip down in the snow and walked
away mad。 I picked it up and went to it。 That Spot trembled and
wobbled and cowered before ever I swung the lash； and with the first bite
of it he howled like a lost soul。 Next he lay down in the snow。 I started
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the rest of the dogs； and they dragged him along while I threw the whip
into him。 He rolled over on his back and bumped along； his four legs
waving in the air； himself howling as though he was going through a
sausage machine。 Steve came back and laughed at me； and I apologized
for what I'd said。
There was no getting any work out of that Spot； and to make up for it；
he was the biggest pig…glutton of a dog I ever saw。 On top of that； he was
the cleverest thief。 There was no circumventing him。 Many a breakfast
we went without our bacon because Spot had been there first。 And it was
because of him that we nearly starved to death up the Stewart。 He
figured out the way to break into our meat… cache； and what he didn't eat；
the rest of the team did。 But he was impartial。 He stole from everybody。
He was a restless dog； always very busy snooping around or going
somewhere。 And there was never a camp within five miles that he didn't
raid。 The worst of it was that they always came back on us to pay his
board bill； which was just； being the law of the land； but it was mighty
hard on us； especially that first winter on the Chilcoot； when we were
busted； paying for whole hams and sides of bacon that we never ate。 He
could fight； too； that Spot。 He could do everything but work。 He never
pulled a pound； but he was the boss of the whole team。 The way he made
those dogs stand around was an education。 He bullied them； and there
was always one or more of them fresh…marked with his fangs。 But he
was more than a bully。 He wasn't afraid of anything that walked on four
legs； and I've seen him march； single…handed into a strange team； without
any provocation whatever； and put the kibosh on the whole outfit。 Did I
say he could eat？ I caught him eating the whip once。 That's straight。
He started in at the lash； and when I caught him he was down to the handle；
and still going。
But he was a good looker。 At the end of the first week we sold him
for seventy…five dollars to the Mounted Police。 They had experienced
dog…drivers； and we knew that by the time he'd covered the six hundred
miles to Dawson he'd be a good sled…dog。 I say we KNEW； for we were
just getting acquainted with that Spot。 A little later we were not brash
enough to know anything where he was concerned。 A week later we
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woke up in the morning to the dangdest dog…fight we'd ever heard。 It
was that Spot come back and knocking the team into shape。 We ate a
pretty depressing breakfast； I can tell you； but cheered up two hours
afterward when we sold him to an official courier； bound in to Dawson
with government despatches。 That Spot was only three days in coming
back； and； as usual； celebrated his arrival with a rough house。
We spent the winter and spring； after our own outfit was across the
pass； freighting other people's outfits； and we made a fat stake。 Also； we
made money out of Spot。 If we sold him once； we sold him twenty times。
He always came back； and no one asked for their money。 We didn't want
the money。 We'd have paid handsomely for any one to take him off our
hands for keeps'。 We had to get rid of him； and we couldn't give him
away； for that would have been suspicious。 But he was such a fine looker
that we never had any difficulty in selling him。 〃Unbroke；〃 we'd say； and
they'd pay any old price for him。 We sold him as low as twenty…five
dollars； and once we got a hundred and fifty for him。 That particular
party returned him in person； refused to take his money back； and the way
he abused us was something awful。 He said it was cheap at the price to tell
us what he thought of us； and we felt he was so justified that we never
talked back。 But to this day I've never quite regained all the old self…
respect that was mine before that man talked to me。
When the ice cleared out of the lakes and river； we put our outfit in a
Lake Bennett boat and started for Dawson。 We had a good team of dogs；
and of course we piled them on top the outfit。 That Spot was along
there was no losing him； and a dozen times； the first day； he knocked one
or another of the dogs overboard in the course of fighting with them。 It
was close quarters； and he didn't like being crowded。
〃What that dog needs is space；〃 Steve said the second day。 〃Let's
maroon him。〃
We did； running the boat in at Caribou Crossing for him to jump
ashore。 Two of the other dogs； good dogs； followed him； and we lost two
whole days trying to find them。 We never saw those two dogs again； but
the quietness and relief we enjoyed made us decide； like the man who
refused his hundred and fifty； that it was cheap at the price。 For the first
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time in months Steve and I laughed and whistled and sang。 We were as
happy as clams。 The dark days were over。 The nightmare had been
lifted。 That Spot was gone。
Three weeks later； one morning； Steve and I were standing on the
river…bank at Dawson。 A small boat was just arriving from Lake Bennett。
I saw Steve give a start； and heard him say something that was not nice
and that was not under his breath。 Then I looked； and there； in the bow
of the boat； with ears pricked up； sat Spot。 Steve and I sneaked
immediately； like beaten curs； like cowards； like absconders from justice。
It was this last that the lieutenant of police thought when he saw us
sneaking。 He surmised that there were law…officers in the boat who were
after us。 He didn't wait to find out； but kept us in sight； and in the M。 &
M。 saloon got us in a corner。 We had a merry time explaining； for we
refused to go back to the boat and meet Spot； and finally he held us under
guard of another policeman while he went to the boat。 After we got clear
of him； we started for the cabin； and when we arrived； there was that Spot
sitting on the stoop waiting for us。
