in the tules-第1部分

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IN　THE　TULES





He　had　never　seen　a　steamboat　in　his　life。　　Born　and　reared　in　one

of　the　Western　Territories；　far　from　a　navigable　river；　he　had　only

known　the　〃dugout〃　or　canoe　as　a　means　of　conveyance　across　the

scant　streams　whose　fordable　waters　made　even　those　scarcely　a

necessity。　　The　long；　narrow；　hooded　wagon；　drawn　by　swaying　oxen；

known　familiarly　as　a　〃prairie　schooner；〃　in　which　he　journeyed

across　the　plains　to　California　in　'53；　did　not　help　his　conception

by　that　nautical　figure。　　And　when　at　last　he　dropped　upon　the　land

of　promise　through　one　of　the　Southern　mountain　passes　he　halted

all　unconsciously　upon　the　low　banks　of　a　great　yellow　river　amidst

a　tangled　brake　of　strange；　reed…like　grasses　that　were　unknown　to

him。　　The　river；　broadening　as　it　debouched　through　many　channels

into　a　lordly　bay；　seemed　to　him　the　ULTIMA　THULE　of　his

journeyings。　　Unyoking　his　oxen　on　the　edge　of　the　luxuriant

meadows　which　blended　with　scarcely　any　line　of　demarcation　into

the　great　stream　itself；　he　found　the　prospect　〃good〃　according　to

his　lights　and　prairial　experiences；　and；　converting　his　halted

wagon　into　a　temporary　cabin；　he　resolved　to　rest　here　and

〃settle。〃



There　was　little　difficulty　in　so　doing。　　The　cultivated　clearings

he　had　passed　were　few　and　far　between；　the　land　would　be　his　by

discovery　and　occupation；　his　habits　of　loneliness　and　self…

reliance　made　him　independent　of　neighbors。　　He　took　his　first　meal

in　his　new　solitude　under　a　spreading　willow；　but　so　near　his

natural　boundary　that　the　waters　gurgled　and　oozed　in　the　reeds　but

a　few　feet　from　him。　　The　sun　sank；　deepening　the　gold　of　the　river

until　it　might　have　been　the　stream　of　Pactolus　itself。　　But　Martin

Morse　had　no　imagination；　he　was　not　even　a　gold…seeker；　he　had

simply　obeyed　the　roving　instincts　of　the　frontiersman　in　coming

hither。　　The　land　was　virgin　and　unoccupied；　it　was　his；　he　was

alone。　　These　questions　settled；　he　smoked　his　pipe　with　less

concern　over　his　three　thousand　miles'　transference　of　habitation

than　the　man　of　cities　who　had　moved　into　a　next　street。　　When　the

sun　sank；　he　rolled　himself　in　his　blankets　in　the　wagon　bed　and

went　quietly　to　sleep。



But　he　was　presently　awakened　by　something　which　at　first　he　could

not　determine　to　be　a　noise　or　an　intangible　sensation。　　It　was　a

deep　throbbing　through　the　silence　of　the　nighta　pulsation　that

seemed　even　to　be　communicated　to　the　rude　bed　whereon　he　lay。　　As

it　came　nearer　it　separated　itself　into　a　labored；　monotonous

panting；　continuous；　but　distinct　from　an　equally　monotonous　but

fainter　beating　of　the　waters；　as　if　the　whole　track　of　the　river

were　being　coursed　and　trodden　by　a　multitude　of　swiftly　trampling

feet。　　A　strange　feeling　took　possession　of　himhalf　of　fear；　half

of　curious　expectation。　　It　was　coming　nearer。　　He　rose；　leaped

hurriedly　from　the　wagon；　and　ran　to　the　bank。　　The　night　was　dark；

at　first　he　saw　nothing　before　him　but　the　steel…black　sky　pierced

with　far…spaced；　irregularly　scattered　stars。　　Then　there　seemed　to

be　approaching　him；　from　the　left；　another　and　more　symmetrical

constellationa　few　red　and　blue　stars　high　above　the　river；　with

three　compact　lines　of　larger　planetary　lights　flashing　towards　him

and　apparently　on　his　own　level。　　It　was　almost　upon　him；　he

involuntarily　drew　back　as　the　strange　phenomenon　swept　abreast　of

where　he　stood；　and　resolved　itself　into　a　dark　yet　airy　bulk；

whose　vagueness；　topped　by　enormous　towers；　was　yet　illuminated　by

those　open　squares　of　light　that　he　had　taken　for　stars；　but　which

he　saw　now　were　brilliantly　lit　windows。



Their　vivid　rays　shot　through　the　reeds　and　sent　broad　bands　across

the　meadow；　the　stationary　wagon；　and　the　slumbering　oxen。　　But　all

this　was　nothing　to　the　inner　life　they　disclosed　through　lifted

curtains　and　open　blinds；　which　was　the　crowning　revelation　of　this

strange　and　wonderful　spectacle。　　Elegantly　dressed　men　and　women

moved　through　brilliantly　lit　and　elaborately　gilt　saloons；　in　one

a　banquet　seemed　to　be　spread；　served　by　white…jacketed　servants；

in　another　were　men　playing　cards　around　marble…topped　tables；　in

another　the　light　flashed　back　again　from　the　mirrors　and

glistening　glasses　and　decanters　of　a　gorgeous　refreshment　saloon；

in　smaller　openings　there　was　the　shy　disclosure　of　dainty　white

curtains　and　velvet　lounges　of　more　intimate　apartments。



Martin　Morse　stood　enthralled　and　mystified。　　It　was　as　if　some

invisible　Asmodeus　had　revealed　to　this　simple　frontiersman　a　world

of　which　he　had　never　dreamed。　　It　was　THE　worlda　world　of　which

he　knew　nothing　in　his　simple；　rustic　habits　and　profound　Western

isolationsweeping　by　him　with　the　rush　of　an　unknown　planet。　　In

another　moment　it　was　gone；　a　shower　of　sparks　shot　up　from　one　of

the　towers　and　fell　all　around　him；　and　then　vanished；　even　as　he

remembered　the　set　piece　of　〃Fourth　of　July〃　fireworks　had　vanished

in　his　own　rural　town　when　he　was　a　boy。　　The　darkness　fell　with　it

too。　　But　such　was　his　utter　absorption　and　breathless

preoccupation　that　only　a　cold　chill　recalled　him　to　himself；　and

he　found　he　was　standing　mid…leg　deep　in　the　surge　cast　over　the

low　banks　by　this　passage　of　the　first　steamboat　he　had　ever　seen！



He　waited　for　it　the　next　night；　when　it　appeared　a　little　later

from　the　opposite　direction　on　its　return　trip。　　He　watched　it　the

next　night　and　the　next。　　Hereafter　he　never　missed　it；　coming　or

goingwhatever　the　hard　and　weary　preoccupations　of　his　new　and

lonely　life。　　He　felt　he　could　not　have　slept　without　seeing　it　go

by。　　Oddly　enough；　his　interest　and　desire　did　not　go　further。

Even　had　he　the　time　and　money　to　spend　in　a　passage　on　the　boat；

and　thus　actively　realize　the　great　world　of　which　he　had　only

these　rare　glimpses；　a　certain　proud；　rustic　shyness　kept　him　from

it。　　It　was　not　HIS　world；　he　could　not　affront　the　snubs　that　his

ignorance　and　inexperience　would　have　provoked；　and　he　was　dimly

conscious；　as　so　many　of　us　are　in　our　ignorance；　that　in　mingling

with　it　he　would　simply　lose　the　easy　privileges　of　alien

criticism。　　For　there　was　much　that　he　did　not　understand；　and　some

things　that　grated　upon　his　lonely　independence。



One　night；　a　lighter　one　than　those　previous；　he　lingered　a　little

longer　in　the　moonlight　to　watch　the　phosphorescent　wake　of　the

retreating　boat。　　Suddenly　it　struck　him　that　there　was　a　certain

irregular　splashing　in　the　water；　quite　different　from　the　regular；

diagonally　crossing　surges　that　the　boat　swept　upon　the　bank。

Looking　at　it　more　intently；　he　saw　a　black　object　turning　in　the

water　like　a　porpoise；　and　then　the　unmistakable　uplifting　of　a

black　arm　in　an　unskillful　swimmer's　overhand　stroke。　　It　was　a

struggling　man。　　But　it　was　quickly　evident　that　the　current　was

too　strong　and　the　turbulence　of　the　shallow　water　too　great　for

his　efforts。　　Without　a　moment's　hesitation；　clad　as　he　was　in　only

his　shirt　and　trousers；　Morse　strode　into　the　reeds；　and　the　next

moment；　with　a　call　of　warning；　was　swimming　toward　the　now　wildly

struggling　figure。　　But；　from　some　unknown　reason；　as　Morse

approached　him　nearer　the　man　uttered　some　incoherent　protest　and

desperately　turned　away；　throwing　off　Morse's　extended　arm。



Attributing　this　only　to　the　vague　convulsions　of　a　drowning　man；

Morse；　a　skilled　swimmer；　managed　to　clutch　his　shoulder；　and

propelled　him　at　arm's　length；　still　struggling；　apparently　with　as

much　reluctance　as　incapacity；　toward　the　bank。　　As　their　feet

touched　the　reeds　and　slimy　bottom　the　man's　resistance　ceased；　and

he　lapsed　quite　listlessly　in　Morse's　arms。　　Half　lifting；　half

dragging　his　burden；　he　succeeded　at　last　in　gaining　the　strip　of

meadow；　and　deposited　the　unconscious　man　beneath　the　willow　tree。

Then　he　ran　to　his　wagon　for　whisky。



But；　to　his　surprise；　on　his　return　the　man　was　already　sitting　up

and　wringing　the　water　from　his　clothes。　　He　then　saw　for　the　first

time；　by　the　clear　moonlight；　that　the　stranger　was　elegantly

dressed　and　of　striking　appearance；　and　was　clearly　a　part　of　that

bright　and　fascinating　world　which　Morse　had　been　contemplating　in

his　solitude。　　He　eagerly　took　the　proffered　tin　cup　and　drank　the

whisky。　　Then　he　rose　to　his　feet；　staggered　a　few　steps　forward；

and　glanced　curiously　around　him　at　the　still　motionless　wagon；　the

few　felled　trees　and　evidence　of　〃clearing；〃　and　even　at　the　rude

cabin　of　logs　and　canvas　just　beginning　to　rise　from　the　ground　a

few　paces　distant；　and　said；　impatiently：



〃Where　the　devil　am　I？〃



Morse　hesitated。　　He　was　unable　to　name　the　locality　of　his

dwelling…place。　　He　answered　briefly：



〃On　the　right　bank　of　the　Sacramento。〃



The　stranger　turned　upon　him　a　look　of　suspicion　not　unmingled　with

resentment。　　〃Oh！　〃　he　said；　with　ironical　gravity；　〃and　I　suppose

that　this　water　you　picked　me　out　of　was　the　Sacramento　River。

Thank　you！〃



Morse；　with　slow　Western　patience；　explained　that　he　had　only

settled　there　three　weeks　ago；　and　the　place　had　no　name。



〃What's　your　nearest　town；　then？〃



〃Thar　ain't　any。　　Thar's　a　blacksmith's　shop　and　grocery　at　the

crossroads；　twenty　miles　further　on；　but　it's　got　no　name　as　I've

heard　on。〃



The　stranger's　look　of　suspicion　passed。　　〃Well　he　said；　in　an

imperative　fashion；　which；　however；　seemed　as　much　the　result　of

habit　as　the　occasion；　〃I　want　a　horse；　and　mighty　quick；　too。〃



〃H'ain't　got　any。〃



〃No　horse？　　How　did　you　get　to　this　place？〃



Morse　pointed　to　the　slumbering　oxen。



The　stranger　again　stared　curiously　at　him。　　After　a　pause　he　said；

with　a　half…pitying；　half…humorous　smile：　〃Pikearen't　you？〃



Whether　Morse　did　or　did　not　know　that　this　current　California

slang　for　a　denizen　of　the　bucolic　West　implied　a　certain　contempt；

he　replied　simply：



〃I'm　from