（
冷魅公主完美爱）（
火影之漩涡流云）（
玄灵变）（
灭尽苍穹）（
宠妻无度：神医世子妃）（
龙帝凤皇）by jack london
lon mcfane wait grumpy, whatlosing his tobacco pouch,elsemight have told me, beforegotit, something about the cabinsurpris day, turn and turn about,had spelled each othergoingthe fore and breaking trail forwas heavy snowshoe work, and did not tendmakan voluble, yet lon mcfane might have found breath enoughnoon, whenstoppedboil coffee, with whichtell me.butdidn’t.surprise lake?was surprise had never heardas abeen looking for lonstop and make camp any time forhour; buad too much pridesuggest making campto ask him his intentions; and yetwasman, lureda handsome wagemushdogs forandobe wait grump said nothing, anas resolvedask nothing, evenwe trampedall night.
we came upon the cabeektrailhad metone, and,my mind, there had been little likelihoodmeeting any one foeeet there itwas, right beforeeyes, a cabin, witim lightthe window and smoke curlingfrom the chimney.
“why didn’t you tell” i began, but was interruptedlon, who muttered“surprise lakeliesasmall feeder halile on.it’sonlond.”
“yes, but the cabin who livesit?”
“a woman,” was the answer, and the next moment lon had rappedthe door, anoman’s voice bade him enter.
“have you seen dave recently?” she asked.
“nope,” lon answered carelessly.“i’ve beenthe other direction, down circle cit’sdawson way, ain’t he?”
the woman nodded, and lon fellto unharnessing the dogs, whilnlashed the sled and carried the camp outfit intocabin waarge, one room affair, and the woman was evidently pointedthe stove, where water was already boiling, and lon set about the preparationsupper, whilpened the fish bag and fedfor lonintroduce us, and was vexed thatdid not, for they were evidently old friends.
“you are lonmcfane, aren’t you?”i heard her ask him.“why, i rememberlast timaw youwasa steamboat, wasn’t it?i remember...”
her speech seemed suddenlybe frozenthe spectacledread which, i knew, from the tenoaw mountingher eyes, muston her inneastonishment, lon was affectedher wordsface showed desperate, for all his voice sounded hearty and genial,he said
“the last timemet wasdawson, queen’s jubilee,birthday,something don’t you remember? the canoe racesthe river, and the obstacle races down the main street?”
the terror faded outher eyes and her whole body relaxed.“oh, yes, iremember,” she said.“and you won onethe canoe races.”
“how’s dave been makin’lately?
strikin’as richever, i suppose?” lon asked, with apparent irrelevance.
she smiled and nodded, and then, noticing thaad unlashed the bed roll, she indicated the endthe cabin wheright spread it.
her own bunk, i noticed, was madeat the opposite end.
“i thoughtwas dave ing wheeard your dogs,” she said.
after that she said nothing, contenting herself with watching lon’s cooking operations, and listening the whilefor the sounddogs alongbackthe blankets and smokedwas mystery; i could make that much out, butmore coulakthe deuce hadn’t lon giventhe tip beforearrived?i lookedher face, unnoticedher, and the longeooked the harderwastakeeye waonderfully beautiful face, unearthly, i may say, witightitan expressionsomething “that was neverlandsea.”fear and terror had pletely vanished, andwalacidly beautiful faceby “placid” one can characterize that intangible and occult something thaannot say waadiancea light any more thaan saywasexpression.
abruptly,if for the first time, she became awaremy presence.
“have you seen dave recently?” she asked me.it wasthe tipmy tonguesay “dave who?” when lon coughedthe smoke that arose from the sizzlin bacon might have caused that cough, buookaint and leftquestion unasked.“no, i haven’t,” i answered.“i’m newthis partthe country ”
“but you don’t meansay,” she interrupted, “that you’ve never hearddavebig dave walsh?”
“you see,” i apologised, “i’m newth’ve putmostmy timethe lower country, down nome way.”
“tell him about dave,” she saidlon.
lon seemed put out, butbeganthat hearty, genial manner thaad notice seemehadetoo hearty and genial, andirritated me.
“oh, davea fine man,”said.“he’an, every inchhim, andstands six feet fourhi wordas goodhi man lies who ever says dave tolie, and that man will havefight with me, too,wellthere’s anything lefthim when dave gets done wit dave, yes, he’crapper fromgorizzly with agot clawed some, butknew whatwas doin’.he went into the cavepurposeget that grizzly.‘frain’ easy with his money,his last shirt an’ match when out o,drained surprise lake herethree weeks an’ took out niy thousand, didn’t he?”she flushed and nodded her hea his recital she had followed every word with keenest interest.“an’ i must say,” lon went on, “thaas disappointed sorenot meeting dave herenight.”
lon served supperone endthe tablewhip sawed spruce, andfell tthe dogs took the womanth openedan inch and listened.
“wheredave walsh?” i asked,an undertone.
“dead,” lon answered.“in hell, don’ up.”
“but you just said that you expectedmeet him herenight,” i challenged.
“oh, shut up, can’t you,” was lon’s reply,the same cautious undertone.
the woman had closed the door and was returning, anat and meditated upon the fact that this man who toldto shutreceived froma salarytwo hundred and fifty dollaronth and his board.
lon washed the dishes, whilmoked and watchedseemed more beautiful than ever strangely and weirdly beautiful,i lookingher steadfastly for five minutes, i was pellede backthe real world andglancelo enabledto know, without discussion, that the woman, too,firsad taken her for the wifedave walsh; butdave walsh were dead,lon had said, then she couldonly his widow.
it was earlybed, forfaceong daythe morrow; andlon crawledbesideunder the blankets, i ventureuestion.
“that woman’s crazy, isn’t she?”
“crazya loon,”answered.
and beforould formulatenext question, lon mcfane, i swear, was oflways wentsleep that way just crawled into the blankets, closed his eyes, and was off, a demure little heavy breathing risingth never snored.
andthe morningwas quick breakfast, feed the dogs, load the sled, and hitsaid good byewe pulled out, and the woman stoodthe doorway and watchehe visionher unearthly beauty away with me, just undereyelids, and aladdo, any time, wasclose them and seeway was unbroken, surprise lake being far off the travelled trails, and lon anook turn aboutbeating down the feathery snow with our big, webbed shoesthat the dogs could travel.“but you said you expectedmeet dave walshthe cabin,” trembledthe tipmy tongucoretimes.
i did not utter it.i could wait untilknocked offthe middleth when the middlethe day came,went right on, for,lon explained, there waampmoose huntersthe forksthe teelee, andcould make there bdidn’t make theredark, for bright, the lead dog, broke his shoulder blade, andlosthour over him beforesho, crossinimber jamthe frozen bedthe teelee, the sled suffererenching capsize, andwaasemake camp and repairsupper and fed the dogs while lon made the repairs, and togethergotthe night’s supplyicewe satour blankets, our moccasins steamingupended sticks before the fire, and had our evening smoke.
“you didn’t know her?” lon queriehead.
“you noticed the colourher hair and eyes and her plexion, well, that’s where she got her name she was like the first warm glowa golde was called fluseardher?”
somewherada confused and misty remembrancehaving heard the name, yetmeant nothingme.“flushgold,” i repeated; “sounds like the namea dance house girl.”lon shook his head.“no, shewaood woman,leastthat sense, though she sinned greatly just the same.”
“but whyyou speak alwaysherthe past tense,though she were dead?”
“because ofthe darknessher soul thatthe samethe darkneslushgold thanew, that dawson knew, and that forty mile knew before that, i dumb, lunatic creaturesaw last night was not flushgold.”
“and dave?” i queried.
“he built that cabin,” lon answered, “he builtfor her… andiwaiting forhalf believesiswho can know the whima crazed mind?maybe she wholly believesisany rate, she waits for him therethe cabiould rouse the dead?then who would rouse the living that are dead?not i, and thatwhetto expectmeet dave walsh there las’llbetack that i’da been more surprised than shei had met him there last night.”
“inot understand,” i said.“beginthebeginning,a white man should, and tellthe whole tale.”
and lon began.“victor chauvet wasold frenchman bornthe soutamecaliforniathe dayas foundgold, but, instead, becamakerbottled sunshineshort, a grape grower and win,followed golwhat brought himalaskathe early days, and over the chilcoot and down the yukon long before the carmac old town siteten mile was chauvet’s.he carried the first mail into arcti staked those coal minesthe porcupinozen year grubstaked loftus into the nippennuchappened that victor chauvet waood catholic, loving two thingsthis world, wineof all kindsloved, butwoman, only one, and she was the mothermarie chauvet.”
herroaned aloud, having meditated beyond self control over the fact thaaid this man two hundred and fifty dollaronth.
“what’s the matter now?”demanded.
“matter?”i plained.“i thought you were telling the storyflush o’t want abiographyyour old french wine bibber.”
lon calmly lighted his pipe, took one good puff, then put the pipe aside.“and you askedto beginthe beginning,”said.
“yes,” said i; “the beginning.”
“and the beginningflushgoldthe old french wine bibber, forwas the fathermarie chauvet, and marie chauvet was the flusoreyou want?victor chauvet never had much luckspeak of.he managedlive, andget along, andtake good caremarie, who resembled the one womanha took very good care ogold was the pet namegavgold creek was named after her flushgold town site, too.the old man was greattown sites, onlynever landed them.
“now, honestly,” lon said, with onehis lightning changes, “you’ve seen her, whatyou thinkherher looks, i mean?
how does she strike your beauty sense?”
“sheremarkably beautiful,” i said.“i never saw anything like herm spitethe fact, last night, thauessed she was mad, i could not keepeyes ofasn’ was wonder, sheer wonder, she wasstrangely beautiful.”
“she was more strangely beautiful before the darkness fell upon her,” lon said softly.“she was truly the flusurned all men’s hearts...an recalls, witheffort, thance woanoe racedawson i, who once loved her, and was toldherher love for me.it was her beauty that made all men lov’d ’a’ got the apple from paris,application, and there wouldn’t have been any trojan war, andtopoff she’d have thrown pari now she livesdarkness, and she who was always fickle, for the first timeconstant and constanta shade,a dead man she does not realizedead.
“and thisthe waemember whaaid last nightdave walsh big dave walsh?he was all thaaid, and more, many time came into this countrythe late eighties that’ioneerwas twenty yearswaounwas twenty fivecould lift clearthe ground thirteen fifty pound sackirst, each fallthe year, famine drovewaone landthos river steamboats,grub, nothing but salmon bellies and rabbi after famine chased him out three years,said he’d had enoughbeing chased; and the next yeaivedstraight meat whenwas lucky enoughget it;ate eleven dogs that winter; butstayed.
and the next winterstayed, andnever did leave the countr waull, a grea could kill the strongest manthe country with har could outpachilcat indian,could outpaddltick, andcould travel all day with wet feet when the thermometer registered fifty below zero, and that’s going some, i tell you, fo’d freeze your feettwenty five belowyou wet them and triedkeep on.
“dave walsh waullyetwas soft and eas couldhim, the latest short horncamp could lie his last dollar outhim.‘butdoesn’t worry me,’haaylaughing off his softness; ‘it doesn’t keepawake nights.’now don’t get the idea thathaemember about the bearwent after withit camefighting dave was the blamedes was the limit,by thaay describe his unlimitedness whengot into action,was easy and kind with the weak, but the strong hadgive trail whenwent by.andwaan that men liked, whichthe finest wordall, a man’s man.
“dave never took partthe big stampededawson when carmack made the bonanz see, dave was just then overmammon creek strikin’ i discovered mammo eighty four thousandthat winter, and openedthe claimthatpromiseouplehundred thousand for the nex, summer bein’and the ground sloshy,tooripthe yukondawsonsee what carmack’s strike looke theresaw flush oalways remember.
it was something sudden, andmakes one shiverthinka strong man with all the strength withered outhimone glance from the soft eyesa weak, blond, female creature like flusasher dad’s cabin, old victor chauvet’s.some friend had brought dave alongtalk over town sitesmammo little talking diddo, and whatdid was mostl you the sightflushgold had sent dave clea victor chauvet insisted after dave left thathad beeh was drunk, but flushgold was the strong drink that made him so.
“that settled it, thatfirst glimpsecaughid not start back down the yukona week,helingereda month, two months,we who had suffered understood, and wondered what the oute would be.undoubtedly,our minds,seemed that flushgold had metwhy not?there was romance sprinkled all over dav waammon king,had made the mammon creek strike;wasold sour dough, onethe oldest pioneersthe land men turnedlookhim whenwent by, and saidone anotherawed undertones, ‘there goes dave walsh.’and why not?he stood six feet four;had yellow hair himself that curledhis neck; andwaulellow maned bull just turned thirty one.
“and flushgold lovedhim, and, having danced him throughole summer’s courtship,the end their engagement was mad fallthe year washand, dave hadbe back for the winter’s workmammon creek, and flushgold refusedbe married righ put dusky burnschargethe mammon creek claim, and himself lingeredi use.she wanted her freedohile longer; she must have it, and she would not marry until nex so,the first ice, dave walsh went alone down the yukon behind his dogs, with the understanding that the marriage would take place whenarrivedthe first steamboatthe next year.
“now dave wastruethe pole star, and she wasfalsea magic needlea cargassteady and solidshe was fickle and fly away, andsome way dave, who never doubted anybody, doubte was the jealousyhis love, perhaps, and maybewas the message ticked off from her soulhis; butany rate dave was worriedfearhe was afraidtrust her till the next year,hadto trust her, andwas pretty well besidiot from old victor chauvet afterwards, and from all thaave pieced togetheonclude that there was somethinga scene before dave pulled north withstoodbefore the old frenchman, with flushgold beside him, and announced that they were plightedeac was very dramatic, with firehis eyes, old victor said.
he talked something about ‘until deathus part’; and old victor especially remembered thatone place dave took herthe shoulder with his great paw and almost shook herhe said: ‘even unto death are you mine, anould rise from the graveclaim you.’old victor distinctly remembered those words ‘even unto death are you mine, anould rise from the graveclaim you.’andtoldafterwards that flushgold was pretty badly frightened, and thatafterwards took daveone side privately and told him thatthat wasn’t the wayhold flushgold thatmust humour her and gentle herhe wantedkeep her.
“thereno discussionmy mind but that flushgoldwaavage herselfher treatmentmen, while men had always treated hera soft and tender and too utterly utter something that must noidn’t know what harshness was...until dave walsh, standing his six feet four, a big bull, gripped her and pawed her and assured her that she was his until death, and the besides,dawson, that winter, wausic player onethose macaroni eating, greasy tenor eye talian dago propositions and flushgold lost her hearthim.
maybewas only fascinatioon’seemsme that she really did love davwas becausehad frightened her with that even unto death, rise from the grave stunthis that shethe end inclinedthe dago musiis all guesswork, and the facts are, wasn’ago;waussian count this was straight; andwasn’rofessional piano playeranythingth played the violin and the piano, andsang sang well butwas for his own pleasure and for the pleasurethosesan had money, too and right here letsay that flushgold never careapwas fickle, but she was never sordid.
“butbe gettin was plighteddave, and dave was ingon the first steamboatget her that was the summer’98, and the first steamboat wasbe expected the middllushgold was afraidthrow dave down and facewas all planne russian music player, the count, was her obedien planned it, much from old victo count took his orders from her, and caught that first steamboat down.
it was the goldedid flushgold catch it.anddid i.i was goingcircle city, anas flabbergasted wheound flushgold o’t see her name downthe passenge was with the count fellow all the time, happy and smiling, anoticed that the count fellow was downthe listhaving his wifwas, stateroom, number,firsnew thatwas married, onlidn’t see anythingthe wife...unless flushgold was sthey’d got married ashore befor’d beentalk about themdawson, you see, and bets had been laid that the count fellow had cut dave out.
“i talked withdidn’t know anything more aboutthaid;didn’t know flushgold, anyway, and besides,was almost rushenow whaukon steamboat is, but you can’t guess what the golden rocket was whenleft dawson that junas the first steamer out, she carried all the scurvy patients and hospita she must have carrieouplemillionsklondike dust and nuggets,say nothinga packed and jammed passenger list, deck passengers galore, and bucks and squaws and dogs withou she was loaded downthe guards with freightwaountainthe samethe fore lower deck, and each little stop along the way addedit.
i saw the box e aboardteelee portage, annewfor whatwas, thougittle guessed the joker that they piledon topeverything elsethe fore lower deck, and they didn’t pileany too securel mate expectede backit again, and then fot about it.i thoughtthe time that there was something familiar about the big husky dog that climbed over the baggage and freight and lay down nextth thenpassed the glendale, boundfo she saluted us, i thoughtdaveboardher and hurryingdawsonflusnd lookedher where she stoodth eyes were bright, but she lookeit frightenedthe sightthe other steamer, and she was leaning closelythe count fellowfo needn’t have leanedsafely against him, aneedn’t have beensurea disappointed dave walsh arrivinave walsh wasn’tthe glendale.
there werotthingidn’t know, but was soonknow for instance, that the pair were nothalfhour preparations for the marriage toothe sick menthe main cabin, andthe crowded conditionthe golden rocket, the likeliest place for the ceremony was found forward,the lower deck,an open space nextthe rail and gang plank and shadedthe mountainfreight with the big boxtop and the sleeping dog beside it.there waissionaryboard, getting offeagle city, which was the next step,they haduse hi’s what they’d planneddo, get marriedthe boat.
“but i’ve run aheadth reason dave walsh wasn’tthe glendale was becausewasthe golde was thi loiterin’dawsonaccountflushgold,went downmammon creekth therefound dusky burns doingwell with the claim, there wasneed for himbput some grubthe sled, harnessed the dogs, tookindian along, and pulled out for surpris always haiking for tha you don’t know how the creek turned outbour flusher; but the prospects were goodthe time, and dave proceededbuild his cabin an’s the cabinslept in.afterfinished it,went offa moose huntthe forksthe teelee, takin’ the indian along.
“and thiswhaa col juice went down forty, fifty, sixty belo that snaasforty mile; anemember the ver eleven o’clockthe morning the spirit thermometerthe n.a.t.& t. pany’s store went downseventy five belo that morning, near the forksthe teelee, dave walsh was out after moose with that blessed indian oall from the indian afterwardsmadrip over the ice togetheorning mr. indian broke through the ice and wet himselfth coursebeganfreeze right away.
the proper thing wasbuild dave walsh was was only halilecamp, wherire was alread was the goodbuilding another?he threw mr. indian over his shoulder and ran with him halile with the thermometerseventy fiv know what tha’sother name for it.why, that buck indian weighed over two hundred himself, and dave ran halile wit coursefrozehave frozen them nea waomfool trick for any anyway, after lingering horribly for several weeks, dave walsh died.
“the indian didn’t know whatdo withhe’d have buried him and letgo aknew that dave walsh waig man, worth lotsmoney, ayu skooku he’d seen the bodiesotheryu skookums carted around the country like they were wortdecidedtake dave’s bodyforty mile, which was dave’ know how the iceon the grass rootsthis country well, the indian planted dave undeootsoilshort,put davould have stayed therhousand years and still been the same old dave.
you understand just the same the indian brings ovehipsaw from the cabinsurprise lake and makes lumber enough for th, waiting for the thaw,goes out and shoots about ten thousand pounds okeepsice, too.cameteele builaft and loadedwith the meat, the big box with dave inside, and dave’s teamdogs, and away they went down the teelee.
“the raft got caughta timber jam and hungtw was scorching hot weather, and mr. indian nearly lost his moos whengotteelee portagefigureteamboat would getforty mile quicker thantransferred his cargo, and there you are, fore lower deckthe golden rocket, flushgold being married, and dave walshhis big box casting the shadethere’s ohinlea wondehought the husky dog that came aboardteelee portagewas pee lat, dave walsh’s lead dog and favouriterrible fighter, too.he was lying down beside the box.
“flushgold caught sightme, calledover, shook hands with me, and introducedtowamad for her themiled intoeyes and saiust signoneth there wasrefusin was evehild, cruelchildren ar, she toldshe waspossessionthe only two bottleschampagnedawsonthat had beendawson the night before; and befornewi was scheduleddrink her and the count’ crowded round, the captainthe steamboat, very prominent, tryingringon the wine, waunn the upper deck the hospital wrecks, with various feetthe grave, gathered and looked downsee.
there were indians all jammedthe circle, too, big bucks, and their squaws and kids,say nothingabout twenty five snarling wol missionary lined the twothemand startedwithjust theog fight started, highon the pilefreight pee lat lying beside the big box, anhite haired brute belongingoneth fight wasn’t explosivrutes just snarledeach other froistance tappingeach other long distance, you know, saying dast and dassent, dastnoise was ratherdisturbing, but you could hear the missionary’s voice above it.
“there wasparticularly easy waygettingthe two dogs, except from the other sideth nobody wasthat side everybody watching the ceremony,then everything might have been all rightthe captain hadn’t throwlubth was what precipitatay,the captainhadn’t thrown that club, nothing might have happened.
“the missionary had just reached the point wherewas saying ‘in sickness andhealth,’ and ‘until deathus part.’and just then the captain threwthe whol landedpee lat, andthat instant the white brute jumpe club caused it.their two bodies struck the box, andbeganslide, its lower end tiltin waong oblong box, andslid down slowly untilreached the perpendicular, whencame downth onlookersthat side the circle had timeget out frogold and the count,the opposite sidethe circle, were facing the box; the missionary had his box must have fallen ten feet straightand down, andhit end on.
“now mind you, not oneofknew that dave walshthoughtwasthe glendale, boundmissionary had edged offone side, andflushgold faced the box wheas like couldn’t have been bette struckend, andthe right end; the whole frontthe box came off; and out swept dave walshhis feet, partly wrappeda blanket, his yellow hair flying and showing brightth outthe box,his feet,swept upon flusidn’t knowwas dead, butwas unmistakable, after hangingtwo daysa timber jam, thatwas rising all right from the deadclai thatwhatany rate, the sight froz couldn’ just sortwilted and watched dave walsh ing for her!andgot her.
it looked almostthoughthrew his arms around her, but whethernot this happened, downthe deck they wen haddrag dave walsh’s body clear beforecould get holasa faint, butwould have been justwellshe had never e outthat faint; for when she did, she fellscreaming the way insane people do.she keptup for hours, till she wa, yes,saw her last night, and know how much recovered she is.shenot violent,is true, but she liveelieves that shewaiting for dave walsh, andshe waitsthe cabinbuiltislongenine years now that she has been faithfuldave walsh, and the outlookthat she’llfaithfulhimthe end.”
lon mcfane pulled down the topthe blankets and preparedcrawl in.
“we have her grub hauled toher each year,”added, “andgeneral keepeyight was the first time she ever recognized me, though.”
“who are the we?” i asked.
“oh,” was the answer, “the count and old victor chauvet and me.do you know, i think the countthe ooreally sorr walsh never did know that she was falshe doesdarkness ismercifulher.”
i lay silently under the blankets for the spacea minute.
“is the count stillthe country?” i asked.
but there waentle soundheavy breathing, annew lon mcfane was asleep.
m.pi.co
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