a knight of the cumberland(康巴伦的骑马士)

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A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

A KNIGHT OF THE

CUMBERLAND

BY JOHN FOX, JR.

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

CONTENTS I. The Blight in the Hills II. On the Wild Dog's Trail III.

The Auricular Talent of the Hon.Samuel Budd IV. Close Quarters V. Back

to the Hills VI. The Great Day VII. At Last--The Tournament VIII.The

Knight Passes

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

THE BLIGHT IN THE HILLS

High noon of a crisp October day, sunshine flooding the earth with the

warmth and light of old wine and, going single-file up through the jagged

gap that the dripping of water has worn down through the Cumberland

Mountains from crest to valley-level, a gray horse and two big mules, a

man and two young girls. On the gray horse, I led the tortuous way. After

me came my small sister--and after her and like her, mule- back, rode the

Blight--dressed as she would be for a gallop in Central Park or to ride a

hunter in a horse show.

I was taking them, according to promise, where the feet of other

women than mountaineers had never trod--beyond the crest of the Big

Black--to the waters of the Cumberland--the lair of moonshiner and

feudsman, where is yet pocketed a civilization that, elsewhere, is long ago

gone. This had been a pet dream of the Blight's for a long time, and now

the dream was coming true. The Blight was in the hills.

Nobody ever went to her mother's house without asking to see her

even when she was a little thing with black hair, merry face and black eyes.

Both men and women, with children of their own, have told me that she

was, perhaps, the most fascinating child that ever lived. There be some

who claim that she has never changed--and I am among them. She began

early, regardless of age, sex or previous condition of servitude--she

continues recklessly as she began--and none makes complaint. Thus was it

in her own world--thus it was when she came to mine. On the way down

from the North, the conductor's voice changed from a command to a

request when he asked for her ticket. The jacketed lord of the dining-car

saw her from afar and advanced to show her to a seat--that she might ride

forward, sit next to a shaded window and be free from the glare of the sun

on the other side. Two porters made a rush for her bag when she got off

the car, and the proprietor of the little hotel in the little town where we had

to wait several hours for the train into the mountains gave her the bridal

chamber for an afternoon nap. From this little town to ``The Gap'' is the

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

worst sixty-mile ride, perhaps, in the world. She sat in a dirty day-coach;

the smoke rolled in at the windows and doors; the cars shook and swayed

and lumbered around curves and down and up gorges; there were about

her rough men, crying children, slatternly women, tobacco juice, peanuts,

popcorn and apple cores, but dainty, serene and as merry as ever, she sat

through that ride with a radiant smile, her keen black eyes noting

everything unlovely within and the glory of hill, tree and chasm without.

Next morning at home, where we rise early, no one was allowed to waken

her and she had breakfast in bed--for the Blight's gentle tyranny was

established on sight and varied not at the Gap.

When she went down the street that day everybody stared

surreptitiously and with perfect respect, as her dainty black plumed figure

passed; the post-office clerk could barely bring himself to say that there

was no letter for her. The soda-fountain boy nearly filled her glass with

syrup before he saw that he was not strictly minding his own business; the

clerk, when I bought chocolate for her, unblushingly added extra weight

and, as we went back, she met them both--Marston, the young engineer

from the North, crossing the street and, at the same moment, a drunken

young tough with an infuriated face reeling in a run around the corner

ahead of us as though he were being pursued. Now we have a volunteer

police guard some forty strong at the Gap--and from habit, I started for

him, but the Blight caught my arm tight. The young engineer in three

strides had reached the curb-stone and all he sternly said was:

``Here! Here!''

The drunken youth wheeled and his right hand shot toward his hip

pocket. The engineer was belted with a pistol, but with one lightning

movement and an incredibly long reach, his right fist caught the fellow's

jaw so that he pitched backward and collapsed like an empty bag. Then the

engineer caught sight of the Blight's bewildered face, flushed, gripped his

hands in front of him and simply stared. At last he saw me:

``Oh,'' he said, ``how do you do?'' and he turned to his prisoner, but the

panting sergeant and another policeman-- also a volunteer--were already

lifting him to his feet. I introduced the boy and the Blight then, and for the

first time in my life I saw the Blight--shaken. Round- eyed, she merely

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

gazed at him.

``That was pretty well done,'' I said.

``Oh, he was drunk and I knew he would be slow.'' Now something

curious happened. The dazed prisoner was on his feet, and his captors

were starting with him to the calaboose when he seemed suddenly to come

to his senses.

``Jes wait a minute, will ye?'' he said quietly, and his captors, thinking

perhaps that he wanted to say something to me, stopped. The mountain

youth turned a strangely sobered face and fixed his blue eyes on the

engineer as though he were searing every feature of that imperturbable

young man in his brain forever. It was not a bad face, but the avenging

hatred in it was fearful. Then he, too, saw the Blight, his face calmed

magically and he, too, stared at her, and turned away with an oath checked

at his lips. We went on--the Blight thrilled, for she had heard much of our

volunteer force at the Gap and had seen something already. Presently I

looked back. Prisoner and captors were climbing the little hill toward the

calaboose and the mountain boy just then turned his head and I could

swear that his eyes sought not the engineer, whom we left at the corner,

but, like the engineer, he was looking at the Blight. Whereat I did not

wonder--particularly as to the engineer. He had been in the mountains for

a long time and I knew what this vision from home meant to him. He

turned up at the house quite early that night.

``I'm not on duty until eleven,'' he said hesitantly, `` and I thought I'd---

-''

``Come right in.''

I asked him a few questions about business and then I left him and the

Blight alone. When I came back she had a Gatling gun of eager questions

ranged on him and--happy withal--he was squirming no little. I followed

him to the gate.

``Are you really going over into those God-forsaken mountains?'' he

asked.

``I thought I would.''

``And you are going to take HER?''

``And my sister.''

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

``Oh, I beg your pardon.'' He strode away.

``Coming up by the mines?'' he called back.

``Perhaps will you show us around?''

``I guess I will,'' he said emphatically, and he went on to risk his neck

on a ten- mile ride along a mountain road in the dark.

``I LIKE a man,'' said the Blight. ``I like a MAN.''

Of course the Blight must see everything, so she insisted on going to

the police court next morning for the trial of the mountain boy. The boy

was in the witness chair when we got there, and the Hon. Samuel Budd

was his counsel. He had volunteered to defend the prisoner, I was soon

told, and then I understood. The November election was not far off and the

Hon. Samuel Budd was candidate for legislature. More even, the boy's

father was a warm supporter of Mr. Budd and the boy himself might

perhaps render good service in the cause when the time came-- as indeed

he did. On one of the front chairs sat the young engineer and it was a

question whether he or the prisoner saw the Blight's black plumes first.

The eyes of both flashed toward her simultaneously, the engineer colored

perceptibly and the mountain boy stopped short in speech and his pallid

face flushed with unmistakable shame. Then he went on: ``He had

liquered up,'' he said, ``and had got tight afore he knowed it and he didn't

mean no harm and had never been arrested afore in his whole life.''

``Have you ever been drunk before?'' asked the prosecuting attorney

severely. The lad looked surprised.

``Co'se I have, but I ain't goin' to agin --leastwise not in this here

town.'' There was a general laugh at this and the aged mayor rapped

loudly.

``That will do,'' said the attorney.

The lad stepped down, hitched his chair slightly so that his back was to

the Blight, sank down in it until his head rested on the back of the chair

and crossed his legs. The Hon. Samuel Budd arose and the Blight looked

at him with wonder. His long yellow hair was parted in the middle and

brushed with plaster-like precision behind two enormous ears, he wore

spectacles, gold-rimmed and with great staring lenses, and his face was

smooth and ageless. He caressed his chin ruminatingly and rolled his lips

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

until they settled into a fine resultant of wisdom, patience, toleration and

firmness. His manner was profound and his voice oily and soothing.

``May it please your Honor--my young friend frankly pleads guilty.''

He paused as though the majesty of the law could ask no more. ``He is a

young man of naturally high and somewhat--naturally, too, no doubt--

bibulous spirits. Homoepathically-- if inversely--the result was logical. In

the untrammelled life of the liberty- breathing mountains, where the stern

spirit of law and order, of which your Honor is the august symbol, does

not prevail as it does here--thanks to your Honor's wise and just

dispensations--the lad has, I may say, naturally acquired a certain

recklessness of mood--indulgence which, however easily condoned there,

must here be sternly rebuked. At the same time, he knew not the

conditions here, he became exhilarated without malice, prepensey or even,

I may say, consciousness. He would not have done as he has, if he had

known what he knows now, and, knowing, he will not repeat the offence. I

need say no more. I plead simply that your Honor will temper the justice

that is only yours with the mercy that is yours--only.''

His Honor was visibly affected and to cover it--his methods being

informal--he said with sharp irrelevancy:

``Who bailed this young feller out last night?'' The sergeant spoke:

``Why, Mr. Marston thar''--with outstretched finger toward the young

engineer. The Blight's black eyes leaped with exultant appreciation and the

engineer turned crimson. His Honor rolled his quid around in his mouth

once, and peered over his glasses:

``I fine this young feller two dollars and costs.'' The young fellow had

turned slowly in his chair and his blue eyes blazed at the engineer with

unappeasable hatred. I doubt if he had heard his Honor's voice.

``I want ye to know that I'm obleeged to ye an' I ain't a-goin' to fergit it;

but if I'd a known hit was you I'd a stayed in jail an' seen you in hell afore

I'd a been bounden to ye.''

``Ten dollars fer contempt of couht.'' The boy was hot now.

``Oh, fine and be--'' The Hon. Samuel Budd had him by the shoulder,

the boy swallowed his voice and his starting tears of rage, and after a

whisper to his Honor, the Hon. Samuel led him out. Outside, the engineer

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

laughed to the Blight:

``Pretty peppery, isn't he?'' but the Blight said nothing, and later we

saw the youth on a gray horse crossing the bridge and conducted by the

Hon. Samuel Budd, who stopped and waved him toward the mountains.

The boy went on and across the plateau, the gray Gap swallowed him.

That night, at the post-office, the Hon. Sam plucked me aside by the

sleeve.

``I know Marston is agin me in this race--but I'll do him a good turn

just the same. You tell him to watch out for that young fellow. He's all

right when he's sober, but when he's drunk--well, over in Kentucky, they

call him the Wild Dog.''

Several days later we started out through that same Gap. The glum

stableman looked at the Blight's girths three times, and with my own eyes

starting and my heart in my mouth, I saw her pass behind her sixteen-

hand-high mule and give him a friendly tap on the rump as she went by.

The beast gave an appreciative flop of one ear and that was all. Had I done

that, any further benefit to me or mine would be incorporated in the terms

of an insurance policy. So, stating this, I believe I state the limit and can

now go on to say at last that it was because she seemed to be loved by man

and brute alike that a big man of her own town, whose body, big as it was,

was yet too small for his heart and from whose brain things went off at

queer angles, always christened her perversely as--``The Blight.''

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

ON THE WILD DOG'S TRAIL

So up we went past Bee Rock, Preacher's Creek and Little Looney,

past the mines where high on a ``tipple'' stood the young engineer looking

down at us, and looking after the Blight as we passed on into a dim rocky

avenue walled on each side with rhododendrons. I waved at him and

shook my head--we would see him coming back. Beyond a deserted log-

cabin we turned up a spur of the mountain. Around a clump of bushes we

came on a gray-bearded mountaineer holding his horse by the bridle and

from a covert high above two more men appeared with Winchesters. The

Blight breathed forth an awed whisper:

``Are they moonshiners?''

I nodded sagely, ``Most likely,'' and the Blight was thrilled. They

might have been squirrel-hunters most innocent, but the Blight had heard

much talk of moonshine stills and mountain feuds and the men who run

them and I took the risk of denying her nothing. Up and up we went, those

two mules swaying from side to side with a motion little short of

elephantine and, by and by, the Blight called out:

``You ride ahead and don't you DARE look back.''

Accustomed to obeying the Blight's orders, I rode ahead with eyes to

the front. Presently, a shriek made me turn suddenly. It was nothing--my

little sister's mule had gone near a steep cliff--perilously near, as its rider

thought, but I saw why I must not look back; those two little girls were

riding astride on side-saddles, the booted little right foot of each dangling

stirrupless--a posture quite decorous but ludicrous.

``Let us know if anybody comes,'' they cried. A mountaineer

descended into sight around a loop of the path above.

``Change cars,'' I shouted.

They changed and, passing, were grave, demure--then they changed

again, and thus we climbed.

Such a glory as was below, around and above us; the air like

champagne; the sunlight rich and pouring like a flood on the gold that the

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND

beeches had strewn in the path, on the gold that the poplars still shook

high above and shimmering on the royal scarlet of the maple and the

sombre russet of the oak. From far below us to far above us a deep curving

ravine was slashed into the mountain side as by one stroke of a gigantic

scimitar. The darkness deep down was lighted up with cool green,

interfused with liquid gold. Russet and yellow splashed the mountain sides

beyond and high up the maples were in a shaking blaze. The Blight's swift

eyes took all in and with indrawn breath she drank it all deep down.

An hour by sun we were near the top, which was bared of trees and

turned into rich farm-land covered with blue-grass. Along these upland

pastures, dotted with grazing cattle, and across them we rode toward the

mountain wildernesses on the other side, down into which a zigzag path

wriggles along the steep front of Benham's spur. At the edge of the steep

was a cabin and a bushy-bearded mountaineer, who looked like a brigand,

answered my hail. He ``mought'' keep us all night, but he'd ``ruther not, as

we could git a place to stay down the spur.'' Could we get down before

dark? The mountaineer lifted his eyes to where the sun was breaking the

horizon of the west into streaks and splashes of yellow and crimson.

``Oh, yes, you can git thar afore dark.''

Now I knew that the mountaineer's idea of distance is vague--but he

knows how long it takes to get from one place to another. So we started

down--dropping at once into thick dark woods, and as we went looping

down, the deeper was the gloom. That sun had suddenly severed all

connection with the laws of gravity and sunk, and it was all the darker

because the stars were not out. The path was steep and coiled downward

like a wounded snake. In one place a tree had fallen across it, and to reach

the next coil of the path below was dangerous. So I had the girls dismount

and I led the gray horse down on his haunches. The mules refused to

follow, which was rather unusual. I went back and from a safe distance in

the rear I belabored them down. They cared neither for gray horse nor

crooked path, but turned of their own devilish wills along the bushy

mountain side. As I ran after them the gray horse started calmly on down

and those two girls shrieked with laughter--they knew no better. First one

way and then the other down the mountain went those mules, with me

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摘要：

AKNIGHTOFTHECUMBERLAND1AKNIGHTOFTHECUMBERLANDBYJOHNFOX,JR.AKNIGHTOFTHECUMBERLAND2CONTENTSI.TheBlightintheHillsII.OntheWildDog'sTrailIII.TheAuricularTalentoftheHon.SamuelBuddIV.CloseQuartersV.BacktotheHillsVI.TheGreatDayVII.AtLast--TheTournamentVIII.TheKnightPassesAKNIGHTOFTHECUMBERLANDAKNIGHTOFTHECU...

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a knight of the cumberland(康巴伦的骑马士)

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