legends of vancouver-第10部分

快捷操作: 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! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


s　on　the　left；　while　within　a　foot　of　the　rim　of　the　trail　the　right　wheels　whirl　along　the　edge　of　a　yawning　canyon。　The　rhythms　of　the　hoof…beats；　the　recurrent　low　whistle　and　crack　of　the　whiplash；　the　occasional　rattle　of　pebbles　showering　down　to　the　depths；　loosened　by　rioting　wheels；　have　broken　the　sacred　silence。　　Yet　above　all　those　nearby　sounds　there　seems　to　be　an　indistinct　murmur；　which　grows　sweeter；　more　musical；　as　you　gain　the　base　of　the　mountains；　where　it　rises　above　all　harsher　notes。　　It　is　the　voice　of　the　restless　Tulameen　as　it　dances　and　laughs　through　the　rocky　throat　of　the　canyon；　three　hundred　feet　below。　Then；　following　the　song；　comes　a　glimpse　of　the　river　itselfwhite　garmented　in　the　film　of　its　countless　rapids；　its　showers　of　waterfalls。　　It　is　as　beautiful　to　look　at　as　to　listen　to；　and　it　is　here；　where　the　trail　winds　about　and　above　it　for　leagues；　that　the　Indians　say　it　caught　the　spirit　of　the　maiden　that　is　still　interlaced　in　its　loveliness。

It　was　in　one　of　the　terrible　battles　that　raged　between　the　valley　tribes　before　the　white　man's　footprints　were　seen　along　these　trails。　　None　can　now　tell　the　cause　of　this　warfare；　but　the　supposition　is　that　it　was　merely　for　tribal　supremacythat　primeval　instinct　that　assails　the　savage　in　both　man　and　beast；　that　drives　the　hill　men　to　bloodshed　and　the　leaders　of　buffalo　herds　to　conflict。　It　is　the　greed　to　rule；　the　one　barbarous　instinct　that　civilization　has　never　yet　been　able　to　eradicate　from　armed　nations。　This　war　of　the　tribes　of　the　valley　lands　was　of　years　in　duration；　men　fought　and　women　mourned；　and　children　wept；　as　all　have　done　since　time　began。　　It　seemed　an　unequal　battle；　for　the　old　experienced　war…tried　chief　and　his　two　astute　sons　were　pitted　against　a　single　young　Tulameen　brave。　　Both　factions　had　their　loyal　followers；　both　were　indomitable　as　to　courage　and　bravery；　both　were　determined　and　ambitious；　both　were　skilled　fighters。

But　on　the　older　man's　side　were　experience　and　two　other　wary；　strategic　brains　to　help　him；　while　on　the　younger　was　but　the　advantage　of　splendid　youth　and　unconquerable　persistence。　　But　at　every　pitched　battle；　at　every　skirmish；　at　every　single…handed　conflict　the　younger　man　gained　little　by　little；　the　older　man　lost　step　by　step。　　The　experience　of　age　was　gradually　but　inevitably　giving　way　to　the　strength　and　enthusiasm　of　youth。　　Then　one　day　they　met　face　to　face　and　alonethe　old　war…scarred　chief；　the　young　battle…inspired　brave。　　It　was　an　unequal　combat；　and　at　the　close　of　a　brief　but　violent　struggle　the　younger　had　brought　the　older　to　his　knees。　　Standing　over　him　with　up…poised　knife　the　Tulameen　brave　laughed　sneeringly；　and　said：

〃Would　you；　my　enemy；　have　this　victory　as　your　own？　　If　so；　I　give　it　to　you；　but　in　return　for　my　submission　I　demand　of　you　your　daughter。〃

For　an　instant　the　old　chief　looked　in　wonderment　at　his　conqueror；　he　thought　of　his　daughter　only　as　a　child　who　played　about　the　forest　trails　or　sat　obediently　beside　her　mother　in　the　lodge；　stitching　her　little　moccasins　or　weaving　her　little　baskets。

〃My　daughter！〃　he　answered　sternly。　　〃My　daughterwho　is　barely　out　of　her　own　cradle　basketgive　her　to　you；　whose　hands　are　blood…dyed　with　the　killing　of　a　score　of　my　tribe？　　You　ask　for　this　thing？〃

〃I　do　not　ask　it；〃　replied　the　young　brave。　〃I　demand　it；　I　have　seen　the　girl　and　I　shall　have　her。〃

The　old　chief　sprang　to　his　feet　and　spat　out　his　refusal。　　〃Keep　your　victory；　and　I　keep　my　girl…child；〃　though　he　knew　he　was　not　only　defying　his　enemy；　but　defying　death　as　well。

The　Tulameen　laughed　lightly；　easily。　　〃I　shall　not　kill　the　sire　of　my　wife；〃　he　taunted。　〃One　more　battle　must　we　have；　but　your　girl…child　will　come　to　me。〃

Then　he　took　his　victorious　way　up　the　trail；　while　the　old　chief　walked　with　slow　and　springless　step　down　into　the　canyon。

The　next　morning　the　chief's　daughter　was　loitering　along　the　heights；　listening　to　the　singing　river；　and　sometimes　leaning　over　the　precipice　to　watch　its　curling　eddies　and　dancing　waterfalls。　　Suddenly　she　heard　a　slight　rustle；　as　though　some　passing　bird's　wing　had　clipt　the　air。　　Then　at　her　feet　there　fell　a　slender；　delicately　shaped　arrow。　　It　fell　with　spent　force；　and　her　Indian　woodcraft　told　her　it　had　been　shot　to　her；　not　at　her。　She　started　like　a　wild　animal。　　Then　her　quick　eye　caught　the　outline　of　a　handsome；　erect　figure　that　stood　on　the　heights　across　the　river。　　She　did　not　know　him　as　her　father's　enemy。　　She　only　saw　him　to　be　young；　stalwart　and　of　extraordinary；　manly　beauty。　　The　spirit　of　youth　and　of　a　certain　savage　coquetry　awoke　within　her。　　Quickly　she　fitted　one　of　her　own　dainty　arrows　to　the　bow　string　and　sent　it　winging　across　the　narrow　canyon；　it　fell；　spent；　at　his　feet；　and　he　knew　she　had　shot　it　to　him；　not　at　him。

Next　morning；　woman…like；　she　crept　noiselessly　to　the　brink　of　the　heights。　　Would　she　see　him　againthat　handsome　brave？　　Would　he　speed　another　arrow　to　her？　　She　had　not　yet　emerged　from　the　tangle　of　forest　before　it　fell；　its　faint…winged　flight　heralding　its　coming。　　Near　the　feathered　end　was　tied　a　tassel　of　beautiful　ermine　tails。　　She　took　from　her　wrist　a　string　of　shell　beads；　fastened　it　to　one　of　her　little　arrows　and　winged　it　across　the　canyon；　as　yesterday。

The　following　morning　before　leaving　the　ledge　she　fastened　the　tassel　of　ermine　tails　in　her　straight；　black　hair。　　Would　he　see　them？　But　no　arrow　fell　at　her　feet　that　day；　but　a　clearer　message　was　there　on　the　brink　of　the　precipice。　　He　himself　awaited　her　coming　he　who　had　never　left　her　thoughts　since　that　first　arrow　came　to　her　from　his　bow…string。　His　eyes　burned　with　warm　fires；　as　she　approached；　but　his　lips　said　simply：　〃I　have　crossed　the　Tulameen　River。〃　　Together　they　stood；　side　by　side；　and　looked　down　at　the　depths　before　them；　watching　in　silence　the　little　torrent　rollicking　and　roystering　over　its　boulders　and　crags。

〃That　is　my　country；〃　he　said；　looking　across　the　river。　　〃This　is　the　country　of　your　father；　and　of　your　brothers；　they　are　my　enemies。　　I　return　to　my　own　shore　tonight。　Will　you　come　with　me？〃

She　looked　up　into　his　handsome　young　face。　So　this　was　her　father's　foethe　dreaded　Tulameen！

〃Will　you　come？〃　he　repeated。

〃I　will　come；〃　she　whispered。

It　was　in　the　dark　of　the　moon　and　through　the　kindly　night　he　led　her　far　up　the　rocky　shores　to　the　narrow　belt　of　quiet　waters；　where　they　crossed　in　silence　into　his　own　country。　　A　week；　a　month；　a　long　golden　summer；　slipped　by；　but　the　insulted　old　chief　and　his　enraged　sons　failed　to　find　her。

Then　one　morning　as　the　lovers　walked　together　on　the　heights　above　the　far　upper　reaches　of　the　river；　even　the　ever…watchful　eyes　of　the　Tulameen　failed　to　detect　the　lurking　enemy。　　Across　the　narrow　canyon　crouched　and　crept　the　two　outwitted　brothers　of　the　girl…wife　at　his　side；　their　arrows　were　on　their　bow…strings；　their　hearts　on　fire　with　hatred　and　vengeance。　　Like　two　evil…winged　birds　of　prey　those　arrows　sped　across　the　laughing　river；　but　before　they　found　their　mark　in　the　breast　of　the　victorious　Tulameen　the　girl　had　unconsciously　stepped　before　him。　With　a　little　sigh；　she　slipped　into　his　arms；　her　brothers'　arrows　buried　into　her　soft；　brown　flesh。

It　was　many　a　moon　before　his　avenging　hand　succeeded　in　slaying　the　old　chief　and　those　two　hated　sons　of　his。　　But　when　this　was　finally　done　the　handsome　young　Tulameen　left　his　people；　his　tribe；　his　country；　and　went　into　the　far　north。　　〃For；〃　he　said；　as　he　sang　his　farewell　war　song；　〃my　heart　lies　dead　in　the　Tulameen　River。〃

　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*

But　the　spirit　of　his　girl…wife　still　sings　through　the　canyon；　its　song　blending　with　the　music　of　that　sweetest…voiced　river　in　all　the　great　valleys　of　the　Dry　Belt。　　That　is　why　this　laughter；　the　sobbing　murmur　of　the　beautiful　Tulameen　will　haunt　for　evermore　the　ear　that　has　once　listened　to　its　song。





The　Grey　Archway

The　steamer；　like　a　huge　shuttle；　wove　in　and　out　among　the　countless　small　islands；　its　long　trailing　scarf　of　grey　smoke　hung　heavily　along　the　uncertain　shores；　casting　a　shadow　over　the　pearly　waters　of　the　Pacific；　which　sung　lazily　from　rock　to　rock　in　indescribable　beauty。

After　dinner　I　wandered　astern　with　the　traveller's　ever…present　hope　of　seeing　the　beauties　of　a　typical　Northern　sunset；　and　by　some　happy　chance　I　placed　my　deck　stool　near　an　old　tillicum；　who　was　leaning　on　the　rail；　his　pipe　between　his　thin　curved　lips；　his　brown　hands　clasped　idly；　his　sombre　eyes　looking　far　out　to　sea；　as　though　they　searched　the　futureor　was　it　that　they　were　seeing　the　past？

〃Kla…how…ya；　tillicum！〃　I　greeted

He　glanced　round；　and　half　smiled。

〃Kla…how…ya；　tillicum！〃　he　replied；　with　the　warmth　of　friendliness　I　have　always　met　with　among　the　Pacific　tribes。

I　drew　my　deck　stool　nearer　to　him；　and　he　acknowledged　the　action　with　another　half　smile；　but　did　not　stir　from　his　entrenchment；　remaining　as　if　hedged　about　with　an　inviolable　fortress　of　exclusiveness。　　Yet　I　knew　that　my　Chinook　salutation　would　be　a　drawbridge　by　which　I　might　hope　to　cross　the　moat　into　his　castle　of　silence。

Indian…like；　he　took　his　time　before　continuing　the　acquaintance。　　Then　he　began　in　most　excellent　English：

〃You　do　not　know　these　Northern　waters？〃

I　shook　my　head。

After　many　moments　he　leaned　forward；　looking　along　the　curve　of　the　deck；　up　the　channels　and　narrows　we　were　threading；　to　a　broad　strip　of　waters　off　the　port　bow。　　Then　he　pointed；　with　that　peculiar；　thoroughly　Indian　gesture　of　the　palm；　uppermost。

〃Do　you　see　itover　there？　　The　small　island？　　It　rests　on　the　edge　of　the　water；　like　a　grey　gull。〃

It　took　my　unaccustomed　eyes　some　moments　to　discern　it；　then　all　at　once　I　caught　its　outline；　veiled　in　the　mists　of　distancegrey；　cobwebby；　dreamy。

〃Yes；〃　I　replied；　〃I　see　it　now。　　You　will　tell　me　of　ittillicum？〃

He　gave　a　swift　glance　at　my　dark　skin；　then　nodded。　　〃You　are　one　of　us；〃　he　said；　with　evidently　no　thought　of　a　possible　contradiction。　　〃And　you　will　understand；　or　I　should　not　tell　you。　　You　will　not　smile　at　the　stor