down the mother lode-第4部分

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re　far　to　the　north　and　she　…　she　was　rich　now　and　she　would　go　back　to　Monterey；　perhaps。　She　drew　her　guitar　closer　and　sang：

〃The　far　distant　sound　of　a　harp's　soft　strings　…　an　echo　on　the　air；　The　hidden　page　may　be　full　of　sweet　things；　of　things　that　once　were　fair。　There's　a　turned　down　page　in　each　life；　and　mine　…　a　story　might　unfold；　But　the　end　was　sad　of　the　dream　divine。　It　better　rests　untold。〃

It　was　time　for　Harlan　to　arrive。　Charlie　Harlan；　the　man　whom　she　hoped　to　cajole　into　buying　Mountaineer　House。　She　strolled　out　into　the　garden　as　Harlan　rode　up　and　tied　his　horse　under　one　of　the　trees。

A　happy　pair　passed。　A　delicate　girl　mounted　upon　a　little　mule　and　a　sturdy　youth　walking　in　the　dust；　his　hand　upon　the　beast's　shoulder。　With　their　serene　and　joy…illumined　faces　they　somehow　suggested　the　holy　family；　symbolical　of　all　that　was　divine　in　a　sordid　world。

The　girl　smiled　and　waved　to　Rosa；　but　the　young　man　doffed　his　hat　coldly　and　hastened　by。

〃The　sweet　little　Elena；〃　said　Rosa　to　herself；　〃and　her　lover…husband。　I　wear　the　silken　wedding　gown　which　no　lover　sees；　but　she　travels　the　way　in　calico　with　the　man　she　loves。　May　the　Blessed　Virgin　grant　that　she　shall　have　no　turned　down　pages　in　her　life；〃　and　forcing　her　proud　and　bitter　mouth　into　a　provocative　smile；　she　went　forward　to　welcome　Harlan。



The　Hanging　of　Charlie　Price

III

〃He　goes　to　the　well；　And　he　stands　on　the　brink；　And　stops　for　a　spell　Jest　to　listen　and　think：　Let's　see　…　well；　that　forty…foot　grave　wasn't　his；　sir；　that　day；　anyhow。〃

…　Bret　Harte。



Everywhere　in　the　foothills　of　the　Sierras　there　are　still　evidences　of　gold　mining。　High　cliffs　face　the　rivers；　all　that　is　left　of　hills　torn　down　at　the　point　of　the　powerful　hydraulic　nozzles；　with　great　heaps　of　cobbles　at　their　base　which　Mother　Nature；　even　in　seventy　years　has　been　unable　to　change　or　cover。

At　the　mouth　of　nearly　every　ravine　there　are　countless　little　mounds　which　marked　the　end；　or　dump　of　the　sluice…box　in　the　placer　mining。　When　the　mound　got　the　proper　height　the　sluice　was　simply　lengthened；　like　putting　another　joint　onto　a　caterpillar　…　and　there　you　were！　The　sluice…boxes　have　long　since　been　moved　away　or　rotted　to　mould　but　the　little　mounds　remain；　to　be　mansions　for　hustling　colonies　of　small　black　ants。

The　country；　in　various　localities；　is　pitted　with　prospect　holes；　and　the　hills　are　pierced　with　drift　tunnels　and　abandoned　mines。　Some　of　the　prospect　holes　are　mere　grassy　cups；　others　are　very　deep　and　partly　filled　with　water。

Some　of　the　most　engrossing　days　of　my　childhood　were　spent　in　exploring　these　places　with　my　two　boy　companions。　We　would　fell　an　oak　sapling　across　the　mouth　of　the　hole；　tie　a　rope；　usually　my　pony's　lariat；　to　the　tree　and　slide　down　it　to　explore　the　depths　below。　If　we　came　to　a　side　drift　we　would　swing　into　it；　light　our　candle…lanterns　and　go　looking　for　gold。　We　were　always　sure　that　we　should　yet　find　a　forgotten　cache　of　gold　…　perhaps　guarded　by　a　lonely　skeleton　…　but　we　never　did！

About　all　we　ever　got　out　of　it　was　snake…frights　（naturally；　sans　alcoholic　origin）；　until　we　were　sure；　the　snakes　were　not　rattlers；　baby　bats；　which　invariably　tried　to　bite　us；　swallows'　eggs；　wet　feet；　and　a　good　spanking　if　the　family　happened　to　find　out　what　we　had　been　up　to。

I　suppose　that　it　really　was　a　very　dangerous　pastime；　for　although　sometimes　the　drift　tunnel　led　us　to　a　sunlit　opening　on　the　hillside；　more　often　we　reached　a　blind　end　and　were　forced　to　return　to　the　main　shaft　and　to　〃shin〃　up　the　rope；　with　from　ten　to　forty　feet　of　inky　water　waiting　to　catch　us　if　we　fell。

Or　we　went　up　the　river　to　〃swing　the　rocker〃　for　old　Ali　Quong。　He　always　pretended　to　drive　us　away；　bellowing　fiercely　as　soon　as　he　caught　sight　of　us；　〃Whassa　malla　you？　Alle　time　you　come　see　Ali　Quong！　Ketchem　too…oo　much　tlouble　for　po…or　old　Chinaman〃　…　the　whole　time　with　his　wrinkled；　brown　face　wreathed　in　smiles。

There　we　stayed　the　long　summer　afternoon；　swinging　the　rocker　while　Quong　shoveled　in　the　pebbly　dirt；　watching　him　take　the　black　sand；　which　held　the　gold；　off　the　canvas　with　his　little　spade…like　scoop；　and　panning　it　for　him　in　the　heavy　iron　pan；　fascinated　to　see　what　we　should　find。　Usually　only　a　few　small　nuggets　in　a　group　of　colors　（flake　gold）；　but　once　we　found　a　good　sized　nugget　which　Quong　gallantly　gave　me　for　a　〃Chinese　New　Year〃　gift。　At　dusk　he　sent　us　home；　each　with　a　bar　of　brown　barley　sugar　…　smelling　to　the　blue　of　opium　…　which　he　fished　out　of　one　of　his　numerous　jumpers　with　his　long…fingered；　sensitive　hands。

They　are　dead；　long　ago　　…　Ah　Quong；　old　Sing；　Shotgun…Chinaman　…　and　gone　to　the　blessed　region　of　the　Five　Immortals；　I　know；　but　every　true　Californian　will　understand　the　regard　the　pioneer　families　had　for　these　faithful　Chinese　servitors　who　took　as　much　loving　pride　in　the　aristocratic　and　unblemished　names　of　their　〃familees〃　as　the　white　persons　who　bore　them。　Four　generations　of　my　family；　old　Sing　lived　to　serve　…　but　I　must　get　on　with　my　forty…niner's　tale　of　the　hanging　of　Charlie　Price！

〃Eh；　mon；　but　the　spring　is　here　again；〃　said　Jim　〃Hutch〃　（Hutchinson）　to　Old　Man　Greeley。

〃Is　it　so；　now？〃　returned　the　little　man；　gazing　off　through　the　sunny；　velvet　air　to　a　world　which　had　been　painted　clean；　new　green。　His　shrewd；　blue　eyes　returned　to　the　ponderous　Scotchman。

〃And　how　came　you　to　realize　that　it　was　spring？〃　he　asked　maliciously。

〃How　came　you　to　lick　Sandy　McArthur…r…r？〃　Hutchinson　came　back　at　him。　〃Tell　me　that。〃

〃Well；　but　whisper；　man；〃　said　old　Jimmie　plaintively；　〃what　else　could　a　man　be　after　doin'？　Me　boots　were　on；　an'　I　could　not　run　away　an'　climb　a　tree；　so　I　used　them　on　McArthur。〃

〃Ye're　a　wild　fightin'　Irishman　with　no　regard　for　the　Sabbath；〃　returned　Jim　Hutch；　sternly。　Now　Greeley　had　a　fear　of　what　the　dour　old　Scotchman　might　tell　upon　him。　It　would　not　pay　to　lose　his　Celtic　temper。

〃It　was　to　church　I　was　goin'。〃　he　growled。　〃'Twas　why　I　was　wearin'　me　red…topped　high　boots。〃

〃Where　was　church　that　day；　whatever？　At　the　Widow　Schmitt's？〃

Jimmie　squirmed。　〃You　mentioned　the　beautiful　spring；　I　mind；〃　he　countered　deftly。　Suddenly　Jim　Hutch　grinned。

〃I'll　tell　ye　why。　I　was　gaein'　down　frae　Rattlesnake　this　afternoon　an'　Charlie　Price　an'　his　Leezie　were　out　in　his　bit　garden　a…plowin'。　Mon；　ye　could　hear　him　for　miles！〃

It　was　even　so。　Old　Charlie　Price　had　decided　that　it　was　high　time　to　put　in　his　vegetable　garden。　He　went　out　to　the　lean…to　in　his　corral　to　inform　Lizzie；　the　mare；　of　his　intention。　Lizzie　was　always　the　unwilling　partner　of　these　agricultural　peregrinations；　and；　now　she　saw　him　approaching　with　the　harness；　she　ran　away　with　much　snorting　and　scattering　of　sod。

〃Hey；　you；　Liz；〃　roared　Charlie；　〃you　goot…for…not'ing　buckskin　lummix；　you　com　mit！〃　He　flourished　the　halter　rope　at　her。　Lizzie　flattened　her　ears；　opened　her　mouth　like　a　yawning　snake；　and　ran　at　him。　Old　Charlie　let　out　a　whoop　that　brought　the　sheriff　from　Rattlesnake　at　full　speed；　and　could　be　heard　（so　they　say）　all　the　way　across　the　river　to　Wild　Goose　Flat；　six　miles　away。

Even　Lizzie；　accustomed　as　she　was　to　Charlie's　mannerisms；　was　frankly　startled　and　meekly　allowed　herself　to　be　caught。　She　did　not　like　to　plow。　She　was　a　saddler　and　a　pair　of　tugs　and　a　collar　bored　her。　With　a　cinch　one　could　puff　out　in　true　wild…horse　fashion　while　the　latigo　strap　was　being　pulled；　and　afterward　be　fairly　comfortable；　but　a　slipping　collar　was　neither　off　nor　on。　She　shook　herself　impatiently　and　the　collar　slid　down　her　neck　to　her　ears。

〃Hey！〃　bellowed　Charlie；　〃you　don't　vear　it　so！　You　…　〃　The　mare　stamped　at　a　fly；　bringing　her　hoof　down　on　the　old　Dutchman's　foot。　His　blood…curdling　whoops　and　yells　brought　the　sheriff　in　on　a　brilliant　finale　to　a　record…breaking　run。

〃What's　the　matter？　Are　you　being　murdered？〃

〃Who；　I'm？〃　asked　Charlie；　absent…mindedly。　He　was　nursing　the　injured　member；　wondering　whether　to　kick　at　Lizzie　with　it；　knowing　full　well　that　he　stood　a　good　chance　of　her　kicking　back　again'　but　when　she　snapped　viciously　at　the　puffing　sheriff　he　decided　against　it。

〃You　com'　to　see　me？〃　he　asked；　in　a　bland；　so…glad…you've…called　tone。

〃To　see　you！　Why；　I've　come　to　save　your　life！〃

〃So？　Dot's　goot；　but　Lizzie　undt　me；　ve　ain't　got　so　much　time　today。　It's　vegetables　I　sell　in　Rattlesnake　undt　ve　go　to　plow；　now。〃

〃Well；　you　old　fool；　after　this　you　can　call　in　vain　if　anything　happens　to　you。　I'll　never　bother　with　you。〃

〃Oh；　vell；　ven　I　got　a　little　excitement　I　got　to　yell　about　it；　ain't　it？〃

〃Maybe　you　have　…　and　after　this　you　can；　for　all　of　me；〃　and　the　wrathful　sheriff　departed。　He　was　new　in　the　community　or　he　would　have　known　that　the　plowing　of　Charlie　Price　and　Lizzie　was　a　regular　event　of　each　season；　for　which　an　audience　gathered　to　lay　bets　for　and　against　the　probability　of　his　dying　of　apoplexy　before　it　was　finished。

The　plowing　progressed　in　this　manner：

Charlie　put　the　point　of　the　plow　in　the　soft　earth　and　roared　at　the　motor…power。　Lizzie　started　off　at　a　nimble　lope。　The　plow　cut　a　pretty　curve　and　flew　out　of　the　ground。　Charlie　reefed　the　reins　at　once；　completely　turning　off　the　power。　Then　he　put　the　reins　about　his　neck；　grasped　the　handles　of　the　plow　with　both　hands；　and　zoomed　commands　again　at　the　champing　power。　〃Power〃　jumped　ahead。　The　reins　nearly　snapped　old　Charlie's　head　off；　but　effectually　brought　the　mare　to　a　standstill。

〃Vait；　you　dunder…undt…blitzen　apful　peelings！　You　…　you　think　dot　plowing　is　not　high…toned　enough；　yet　…　hey？　Vell；　I　show　you！〃

He　picked　up　a　huge　clod　of　soft　dirt　held　it　aloft　in　both　hands　and　banged　it　down　on　Lizzie's　back　…　whereupon　she　promptly　ran　away！　She　galloped　furiously　to　the　end　of　the　field　with　the　plow　banging　in　scoops　and　leaps；　and　old　Charlie；　dangling　on　the　end　of　the　reins；　flying　along　in　seven…league　jumps　behind　her。　As　soon　as　he　caught　his　breath　sufficiently　for　renewed　directions；　the　cavalcade　returned　to　the　grandstand　and　operations　were　repeated。

Charlie　had　been　a　sailor　before　he　came