black rock-第2章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
it's little he sees of it； or any one else； except Mike Slavin；
when you're too dry to wait for some one to treat you； or perhaps
Father Ryan； when the fear of hell…fire is on to you。'
The men stood amazed at Sandy's sudden anger and length of speech。
'Bon； dat's good for you； my bully boy；' said Baptiste； a wiry
little French…Canadian； Sandy's sworn ally and devoted admirer ever
since the day when the big Scotsman； under great provocation； had
knocked him clean off the dump into the river and then jumped in
for him。
It was not till afterwards I learned the cause of Sandy's sudden
wrath which urged him to such unwonted length of speech。 It was
not simply that the Presbyterian blood carried with it reverence
for the minister and contempt for Papists and Fenians； but that he
had a vivid remembrance of how； only a month ago； the minister had
got him out of Mike Slavin's saloon and out the clutches of Keefe
and Slavin and their gang of bloodsuckers。
Keefe started up with a curse。 Baptiste sprang to Sandy's side；
slapped him on the back； and called out； 'You keel him； I'll hit
（eat） him up； me。'
It looked as if there might be a fight； when a harsh voice said in
a low； savage tone； 'Stop your row； you blank fools； settle it； if
you want to； somewhere else。' I turned； and was amazed to see old
man Nelson； who was very seldom moved to speech。
There was a look of scorn on his hard； iron…grey face； and of such
settled fierceness as made me quite believe the tales I had heard
of his deadly fights in the mines at the coast。 Before any reply
could be made； the minister drove up and called out in a cheery
voice； 'Merry Christmas； boys！ Hello； Sandy！ Comment ca va；
Baptiste？ How do you do； Mr。 Graeme？'
'First rate。 Let me introduce my friend； Mr。 Connor； sometime
medical student； now artist； hunter； and tramp at large； but not a
bad sort。'
'A man to be envied；' said the minister； smiling。 'I am glad to
know any friend of Mr。 Graeme's。'
I liked Mr。 Craig from the first。 He had good eyes that looked
straight out at you； a clean…cut； strong face well set on his
shoulders； and altogether an upstanding； manly bearing。 He
insisted on going with Sandy to the stables to see Dandy； his
broncho； put up。
'Decent fellow；' said Graeme； 'but though he is good enough to his
broncho； it is Sandy that's in his mind now。'
'Does he come out often？ I mean； are you part of his parish； so to
speak？'
'I have no doubt he thinks so； and I'm blowed if he doesn't make
the Presbyterians of us think so too。' And he added after a pause；
'A dandy lot of parishioners we are for any man。 There's Sandy；
now； he would knock Keefe's head off as a kind of religious
exercise； but to…morrow Keefe will be sober； and Sandy will be
drunk as a lord； and the drunker he is the better Presbyterian
he'll be； to the preacher's disgust。' Then after another pause he
added bitterly； 'But it is not for me to throw rocks at Sandy； I am
not the same kind of fool； but I am a fool of several other sorts。'
Then the cook came out and beat a tattoo on the bottom of a dish…
pan。 Baptiste answered with a yell： but though keenly hungry； no
man would demean himself to do other than walk with apparent
reluctance to his place at the table。 At the further end of the
camp was a big fireplace； and from the door to the fireplace
extended the long board tables； covered with platters of turkey not
too scientifically carved； dishes of potatoes； bowls of apple
sauce； plates of butter； pies； and smaller dishes distributed at
regular intervals。 Two lanterns hanging from the roof； and a row
of candles stuck into the wall on either side by means of slit
sticks； cast a dim； weird light over the scene。
There was a moment's silence； and at a nod from Graeme Mr。 Craig
rose and said； 'I don't know how you feel about it； men； but to me
this looks good enough to be thankful for。'
'Fire ahead； sir；' called out a voice quite respectfully； and the
minister bent his head and said
'For Christ the Lord who came to save us； for all the love and
goodness we have known； and for these Thy gifts to us this
Christmas night； our Father； make us thankful。 Amen。'
'Bon； dat's fuss rate；' said Baptiste。 'Seems lak dat's make me
hit （eat） more better for sure；' and then no word was spoken for
quarter of an hour。 The occasion was far too solemn and moments
too precious for anything so empty as words。 But when the white
piles of bread and the brown piles of turkey had for a second time
vanished； and after the last pie had disappeared； there came a
pause and hush of expectancy； whereupon the cook and cookee； each
bearing aloft a huge； blazing pudding； came forth。
'Hooray！' yelled Blaney； 'up wid yez！' and grabbing the cook by the
shoulders from behind； he faced him about。
Mr。 Craig was the first to respond； and seizing the cookee in the
same way； called out； 'Squad； fall in！ quick march！' In a moment
every man was in the procession。
'Strike up； Batchees； ye little angel！' shouted Blaney； the
appellation a concession to the minister's presence； and away went
Baptiste in a rollicking French song with the English chorus
'Then blow； ye winds； in the morning；
Blow； ye winds； ay oh！
Blow； ye winds； in the morning；
Blow； blow； blow。'
And at each 'blow' every boot came down with a thump on the plank
floor that shook the solid roof。 After the second round； Mr。
Craig jumped upon the bench； and called out
'Three cheers for Billy the cook！'
In the silence following the cheers Baptiste was heard to say；
'Bon！ dat's mak me feel lak hit dat puddin' all hup mesef； me。'
'Hear till the little baste！' said Blaney in disgust。
'Batchees；' remonstrated Sandy gravely； 'ye've more stomach than
manners。'
'Fu sure！ but de more stomach dat's more better for dis puddin'；'
replied the little Frenchman cheerfully。
After a time the tables were cleared and pushed back to the wall；
and pipes were produced。 In all attitudes suggestive of comfort
the men disposed themselves in a wide circle about the fire； which
now roared and crackled up the great wooden chimney hanging from
the roof。 The lumberman's hour of bliss had arrived。 Even old man
Nelson looked a shade less melancholy than usual as he sat alone；
well away from the fire； smoking steadily and silently。 When the
second pipes were well a…going； one of the men took down a violin
from the wall and handed it to Lachlan Campbell。 There were two
brothers Campbell just out from Argyll； typical Highlanders：
Lachlan； dark； silent； melancholy； with the face of a mystic； and
Angus； red…haired； quick； impulsive； and devoted to his brother； a
devotion he thought proper to cover under biting； sarcastic speech。
Lachlan； after much protestation； interspersed with gibes from his
brother； took the violin； and； in response to the call from all
sides； struck up 'Lord Macdonald's Reel。' In a moment the floor
was filled with dancers； whooping and cracking their fingers in the
wildest manner。 Then Baptiste did the 'Red River Jig；' a most
intricate and difficult series of steps； the men keeping time to
the music with hands and feet。
When the jig was finished； Sandy called for 'Lochaber No More'； but
Campbell said； 'No； no！ I cannot play that to…night。 Mr。 Craig
will play。'
Craig took the violin； and at the first note I knew he was no
ordinary player。 I did not recognise the music； but it was soft
and thrilling； and got in by the heart； till every one was thinking
his tenderest and saddest thoughts。
After he had played two or three exquisite bits； he gave Campbell
his violin； saying； 'Now； 〃Lochaber；〃 Lachlan。'
Without a word Lachlan began； not 'Lochaber'he was not ready for
that yetbut 'The Flowers o' the Forest；' and from that wandered
through 'Auld Robin Gray' and 'The Land o' the Leal；' and so got at
last to that most soul…subduing of Scottish laments； 'Lochaber No
More。' At the first strain； his brother； who had thrown himself on
some blankets behind the fire； turned over on his face； feigning
sleep。 Sandy M'Naughton took his pipe out of his mouth； and sat up
straight and stiff； stari
