04-in a far country-第4章

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snow…crust。　It　was　a　revelation。　There　was　life　in　the　Northland。　He

would　follow　it；　look　upon　it；　gloat　over　it。　He　forgot　his　swollen

muscles；　plunging　through　the　deep　snow　in　an　ecstasy　of　anticipation。

The　forest　swallowed　him　up；　and　the　brief　midday　twilight　vanished；

but　he　pursued　his　quest　till　exhausted　nature　asserted　itself　and

laid　him　helpless　in　the　snow。　There　he　groaned　and　cursed　his

folly；　and　knew　the　track　to　be　the　fancy　of　his　brain；　and　late

that　night　he　dragged　himself　into　the　cabin　on　hands　and　knees；　his

cheeks　frozen　and　a　strange　numbness　about　his　feet。　Weatherbee

grinned　malevolently；　but　made　no　offer　to　help　him。　He　thrust　needles

into　his　toes　and　thawed　them　out　by　the　stove。　A　week　later

mortification　set　in。

　　But　the　clerk　had　his　own　troubles。　The　dead　men　came　out　of　their

graves　more　frequently　now；　and　rarely　left　him；　waking　or　sleeping。

He　grew　to　wait　and　dread　their　coming；　never　passing　the　twin

cairns　without　a　shudder。　One　night　they　came　to　him　in　his　sleep

and　led　him　forth　to　an　appointed　task。　Frightened　into　inarticulate

horror；　he　awoke　between　the　heaps　of　stones　and　fled　wildly　to　the

cabin。　But　he　had　lain　there　for　some　time；　for　his　feet　and　cheeks

were　also　frozen。

　　Sometimes　he　became　frantic　at　their　insistent　presence；　and

danced　about　the　cabin；　cutting　the　empty　air　with　an　axe；　and

smashing　everything　within　reach。　During　these　ghostly　encounters；

Cuthfert　huddled　into　his　blankets　and　followed　the　madman　about

with　a　cocked　revolver；　ready　to　shoot　him　if　he　came　too　near。　But；

recovering　from　one　of　these　spells；　the　clerk　noticed　the　weapon

trained　upon　him。　His　suspicions　were　aroused；　and　thenceforth　he；

too；　lived　in　fear　of　his　life。　They　watched　each　other　closely

after　that；　and　faced　about　in　startled　fright　whenever　either

passed　behind　the　other's　back。　The　apprehensiveness　became　a　mania

which　controlled　them　even　in　their　sleep。　Through　mutual　fear　they

tacitly　let　the　slush…lamp　burn　all　night；　and　saw　to　a　plentiful

supply　of　bacon…grease　before　retiring。　The　slightest　movement　on

the　part　of　one　was　sufficient　to　arouse　the　other；　and　many　a　still

watch　their　gazes　countered　as　they　shook　beneath　their　blankets

with　fingers　on　the　trigger…guards。

　　What　with　the　Fear　of　the　North；　the　mental　strain；　and　the

ravages　of　the　disease；　they　lost　all　semblance　of　humanity；　taking　on

the　appearance　of　wild　beasts；　hunted　and　desperate。　Their　cheeks

and　noses；　as　an　aftermath　of　the　freezing；　had　turned　black。　Their

frozen　toes　had　begun　to　drop　away　at　the　first　and　second　joints。

Every　movement　brought　pain；　but　the　fire　box　was　insatiable；　wringing

a　ransom　of　torture　from　their　miserable　bodies。　Day　in；　day　out；　it

demanded　its　food…　a　veritable　pound　of　flesh…　and　they　dragged

themselves　into　the　forest　to　chop　wood　on　their　knees。　Once；　crawling

thus　in　search　of　dry　sticks；　unknown　to　each　other　they　entered　a

thicket　from　opposite　sides。　Suddenly；　without　warning；　two　peering

death's…heads　confronted　each　other。　Suffering　had　so　transformed　them

that　recognition　was　impossible。　They　sprang　to　their　feet；

shrieking　with　terror；　and　dashed　away　on　their　mangled　stumps；　and

falling　at　the　cabin's　door；　they　clawed　and　scratched　like　demons

till　they　discovered　their　mistake。



　　Occasionally　they　lapsed　normal；　and　during　one　of　these　sane

intervals；　the　chief　bone　of　contention；　the　sugar；　had　been　divided

equally　between　them。　They　guarded　their　separate　sacks；　stored　up

in　the　cache；　with　jealous　eyes；　for　there　were　but　a　few　cupfuls

left；　and　they　were　totally　devoid　of　faith　in　each　other。　But　one　day

Cuthfert　made　a　mistake。　Hardly　able　to　move；　sick　with　pain；　with　his

head　swimming　and　eyes　blinded；　he　crept　into　the　cache；　sugar

canister　in　hand；　and　mistook　Weatherbee's　sack　for　his　own。

　　January　had　been　born　but　a　few　days　when　this　occurred。　The　sun　had

some　time　since　passed　its　lowest　southern　declination；　and　at

meridian　now　threw　flaunting　streaks　of　yellow　light　upon　the　northern

sky。　On　the　day　following　his　mistake　with　the　sugarbag；　Cuthfert

found　himself　feeling　better；　both　in　body　and　in　spirit。　As

noontime　drew　near　and　the　day　brightened；　he　dragged　himself

outside　to　feast　on　the　evanescent　glow；　which　was　to　him　an　earnest

of　the　sun's　future　intentions。　Weatherbee　was　also　feeling　somewhat

better；　and　crawled　out　beside　him。　They　propped　themselves　in　the

snow　beneath　the　moveless　wind…vane；　and　waited。

　　The　stillness　of　death　was　about　them。　In　other　climes；　when

nature　falls　into　such　moods；　there　is　a　subdued　air　of　expectancy；

a　waiting　for　some　small　voice　to　take　up　the　broken　strain。　Not　so　in

the　North。　The　two　men　had　lived　seeming　eons　in　this　ghostly　peace。

They　could　remember　no　song　of　the　past；　they　could　conjure　no　song　of

the　future。　This　unearthly　calm　had　always　been…　the　tranquil

silence　of　eternity。

　　Their　eyes　were　fixed　upon　the　north。　Unseen；　behind　their　backs；

behind　the　towering　mountains　to　the　south；　the　sun　swept　toward　the

zenith　of　another　sky　than　theirs。　Sole　spectators　of　the　mighty

canvas；　they　watched　the　false　dawn　slowly　grow。　A　faint　flame　began

to　glow　and　smoulder。　It　deepened　in　intensity；　ringing　the　changes　of

reddish…yellow；　purple；　and　saffron。　So　bright　did　it　become　that

Cuthfert　thought　the　sun　must　surely　be　behind　it…　a　miracle；　the

sun　rising　in　the　north！　Suddenly；　without　warning　and　without　fading；

the　canvas　was　swept　clean。　There　was　no　color　in　the　sky。　The　light

had　gone　out　of　the　day。　They　caught　their　breaths　in　half…sobs。　But

lo！　the　air　was　aglint　with　particles　of　scintillating　frost；　and

there；　to　the　north；　the　wind…vane　lay　in　vague　outline　of　the　snow。　A

shadow！　A　shadow！　It　was　exactly　midday。　They　jerked　their　heads

hurriedly　to　the　south。　A　golden　rim　peeped　over　the　mountain's

snowy　shoulder；　smiled　upon　them　an　instant；　then　dipped　from　sight

again。

　　There　were　tears　in　their　eyes　as　they　sought　each　other。　A

strange　softening　came　over　them。　They　felt　irresistibly　drawn

toward　each　other。　The　sun　was　coming　back　again。　It　would　be　with

them　tomorrow；　and　the　next　day；　and　the　next。　And　it　would　stay

longer　every　visit；　and　a　time　would　come　when　it　would　ride　their

heaven　day　and　night；　never　once　dropping　below　the　skyline。　There

would　be　no　night。　The　ice…locked　winter　would　be　broken；　the　winds

would　blow　and　the　forests　answer；　the　land　would　bathe　in　the　blessed

sunshine；　and　life　renew。　Hand　in　hand；　they　would　quit　this　horrid

dream　and　journey　back　to　the　Southland。　They　lurched　blindly　forward；

and　their　hands　met…　their　poor　maimed　hands；　swollen　and　distorted

beneath　their　mittens。

　　But　the　promise　was　destined　to　remain　unfulfilled。　The　Northland　is

the　Northland；　and　men　work　out　their　souls　by　strange　rules；　which

other　men；　who　have　not　journeyed　into　far　countries；　cannot　come　to

understand。



　　An　hour　later；　Cuthfert　put　a　pan　of　bread　into　the　oven；　and　fell

to　speculating　on　what　the　surgeons　could　do　with　his　feet　when　he　got

back。　Home　did　not　seem　so　very　far　away　now。　Weatherbee　was　rummaging

in　the　cache。　Of　a　sudden；　he　raised　a　whirlwind　of　blasphemy；　which

in　turn　ceased　with　startling　abruptness。　The　other　man　had　robbed　his

sugar…sack。　Still；　things　might　have　happened　differently；　had　not　the

two　dead　men　come　out　from　under　the　stones　and　hushed　the　hot　words

in　his　throat。　They　led　him　quite　gently　from　the　cache；　which　he

forgot　to　close。　That　consummation　was　reached；　that　something　they

had　whispered　to　him　in　his　dreams　was　about　to　happen。　They　guided

him　gently；　very　gently；　to　the　woodpile；　where　they　put　the　axe　in

his　hands。　Then　they　helped　him　shove　open　the　cabin　door；　and　he　felt

sure　they　shut　it　after　him…　at　least　he　heard　it　slam　and　the　latch

fall　sharply　into　place。　And　he　knew　they　were　waiting　just　without；

waiting　for　hi