Chapter I Keesh, Son of Keesh

2018-04-15 作者： 外研社编译组

Chapter I Keesh, Son of Keesh

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by Jack London

“Thus will I give six blankets, warm and double; six files, large and hard; six Hudson Bay knives, keen edged and long; two canoes, the work of Mogum, The Maker of Things; ten dogs, heavy-shouldered and strong in the harness; and three guns the trigger of one be broken, but it is a good gun and can doubtless be mended.”

Keesh paused and swept his eyes over the circle of intent faces.It was the time of the Great Fishing, and he was bidding to Gnob for Su Su his daughter.The place was the St. George Mission by the Yukon, and the tribes had gathered for many a hundred miles.From north, south, east, and west they had come, even from Tozikakat and far Tana-naw.

“And further, O Gnob, thou art chief of the Tana-naw; and I, Keesh, the son of Keesh, am chief of the Thlunget.Wherefore, when my seed springs from the loins of thy daughter, there shall be a friendship between the tribes, a great friendship, and Tana naw and Thlunget shall be brothers of the blood in the time to come.What I have said I will do, that will I do.And how is it with you, O Gnob, in this matter?”

Gnob nodded his head gravely, his gnarled and age twisted face inscrutably masking the soul that dwelt behind.His narrow eyes burned like twin coals through their narrow slits, as he piped in a high-cracked voice, “But that is not all.”“What more?” Keesh demanded.“Have I not offered full measure?Was there ever yet a Tana naw maiden who fetched so great a price?Then name her!”An open snicker passed round the circle, and Keesh knew that he stood in shame before these people.

“Nay, nay, good Keesh, thou dost not understand.”Gnob made a soft, stroking gesture.“The price is fair.It is a good price.Nor do I question the broken trigger.But that is not all.What of the man?”“Ay, what of the man?” the circle snarled.“It is said,” Gnob’s shrill voice piped, “it is said that Keesh does not walk in the way of his fathers.It is said that he has wandered into the dark, after strange gods, and that he is become afraid.”The face of Keesh went dark.“It is a lie!” he thundered.“Keesh is afraid of no man!”

“It is said,” old Gnob piped on, “that he has harkened to the speech of the white man up at the Big House, and that he bends head to the white man’s god, and, moreover, that blood is displeasing to the white man’s god.”Keesh dropped his eyes, and his hands clenched passionately.The savage circle laughed derisively, and in the ear of Gnob whispered Madwan, the shaman, high-priest of the tribe and maker of medicine.The shaman poked among the shadows on the rim of the firelight and roused up a slender young boy, whom he brought face to face with Keesh; and in the hand of Keesh he thrust a knife.

Gnob leaned forward.“Keesh!O Keesh!Darest thou to kill a man?Behold!This be Kitz noo, a slave.Strike, O Keesh, strike with the strength of thy arm!”The boy trembled and waited the stroke.Keesh looked at him, and thoughts of Mr. Brown’s higher morality floated through his mind, and strong upon him was a vision of the leaping flames of Mr. Brown’s particular brand of hell fire.

The knife fell to the ground, and the boy sighed and went out beyond the firelight with shaking knees.At the feet of Gnob sprawled a wolf-dog, which bared its gleaming teeth and prepared to spring after the boy.But the shaman ground his foot into the brute’s body, and so doing, gave Gnob an idea.“And then, O Keesh, what wouldst thou do, should a man do this thing to you?” as he spoke, Gnob held a ribbon of salmon to White Fang, and when the animal attempted to take it, smote him sharply on the nose with a stick.“And afterward, O Keesh, wouldst thou do thus?” White Fang was cringing back on his belly and fawning to the hand of Gnob.

“Listen!” leaning on the arm of Madwan, Gnob had risen to his feet.“I am very old, and because I am very old I will tell thee things.Thy father, Keesh, was a mighty man.And he did love the song of the bowstring in battle, and these eyes have beheld him cast a spear till the head stood out beyond a man’s body.But thou art unlike.Since thou left the Raven to worship the Wolf, thou art become afraid of blood, and thou makest thy people afraid.This is not good.

For behold, when I was a boy, even as Kitz noo there, there was no white man in all the land.But they came, one by one, these white men, till now they are many.And they are a restless breed, never content to rest by the fire with a full belly and let the morrow bring its own meat.A curse was laid upon them, it would seem, and they must work it out in toil and hardship.”Keesh was startled.A recollection of a hazy story told by Mr. Brown of one Adam, of old time, came to him, and it seemed that Mr. Brown had spoken true.

“So they lay hands upon all they behold, these white men, and they go everywhere and behold all things.And ever do more follow in their steps, so that if nothing be done they will come to possess all the land and there will be no room for the tribes of the Raven.Wherefore it is meet that we fight with them till none are left.Then will we hold the passes and the land, and perhaps our children and our children’s children shall flourish and grow fat.

There is a great struggle to come, when Wolf and Raven shall grapple; but Keesh will not fight, nor will he let his people fight.

So it is not well that he should take to him my daughter.

Thus have I spoken, I, Gnob, chief of the Tana naw.”

“But the white men are good and great,” Keesh made answer.“The white men have taught us many things.The white men have given us blankets and knives and guns, such as we have never made and never could make.I remember in what manner we lived before they came.I was unborn then, but I have it from my father.When we went on the hunt we must creep so close to the moose that a spear cast would cover the distance.Today we use the white man’s rifle, and farther away than can a child’s cry be heard.We ate fish and meat and berries there was nothing else to eat and we ate without salt.How many be there among you who care to go back to the fish and meat without salt?”

It would have sunk home, had not Madwan leaped to his feet ere silence could come.“And first a question to thee, Keesh.The white man up at the Big House tells you that it is wrong to kill.Yet do we not know that the white men kill?Have we forgotten the great fight on the Koyokuk? or the great fight at Nuklukyeto, where three white men killed twenty of the Tozikakats?Do you think we no longer remember the three men of the Tana naw that the white man Macklewrath killed?Tell me, O Keesh, why does the Shaman Brown teach you that it is wrong to fight, when all his brothers fight?”

“Nay, nay, there is no need to answer,” Gnob piped, while Keesh struggled with the paradox.“It is very simple.The Good Man Brown would hold the Raven tight whilst his brothers pluck the feathers.”He raised his voice.“But so long as there is one Tana naw to strike a blow, or one maiden to bear a man child, the Raven shall not be plucked!”Gnob turned to a husky young man across the fire.“And what sayest thou, Makamuk, who art brother to Su Su?”

Makamuk came to his feet.A long face scar lifted his upper lip into a perpetual grin which belied the glowing ferocity of his eyes.“This day,” he began with cunning irrelevance, “I came by the Trader Macklewrath’s cabin.And in the door I saw a child laughing at the sun.And the child looked at me with the Trader Macklewrath’s eyes, and it was frightened.The mother ran to it and quieted it.The mother was Ziska, the Thlunget woman.”A snarl of rage rose up and drowned his voice, which he stilled by turning dramatically upon Keesh with outstretched arm and accusing finger.

“So?You give your women away, you Thlunget, and come to the Tana naw for more?But we have need of our women, Keesh; for we must breed men, many men, against the day when the Raven grapples with the Wolf.”Through the storm of applause, Gnob’s voice shrilled clear.“And thou, Nossabok, who art her favorite brother?”

The young fellow was slender and graceful, with the strong aquiline nose and high brows of his type; but from some nervous affliction the lid of one eye drooped at odd times in a suggestive wink.Even as he arose it so drooped and rested a moment against his cheek.But it was not greeted with the accustomed laughter.Every face was grave.