His eyes entreated help! He snapped at me!
What can this mean?" I cried, yet shook with fear, With that great shudder felt when Death is near.
Black seized the gunwale with his teeth. I saw
Thick slimy foam drip from his awful jaw;
Then I knew all! Five days of tropic heat,
Without one drop of drink, one scrap of meat,
Had made him rabid. He whose courage had
Preserved my life-my messmate, friend-was mad!
You understand? Can you see him and me,
The open boat tossed on a brassy sea,
A child and a wild beast on board alone,
While overhead streams down the tropic sun
And the boy crouching, trembling for his life?
I searched my pockets and I drew my knife—
For everyone instinctively, you know,
Defends his life. 'Twas time that I did so,
For at that moment, with a furious bound,
The dog flew at me. I sprang half around.
He missed me in blind haste. With all my might
I seized his neck, and grasped, and held him tight.
I felt him writhe and try to bite, as he
Struggled beneath the pressure of my knee.
His red eyes rolled; sighs heaved his shining coat. I plunged my knife three times in his poor throat.
And so I killed my friend. I had but one!
What matters how, after that deed was done,
They picked me up half dead,
And took me back to France!
I have killed men-ay, many-in my day,
Without remorse-for sailors must obey.
One of a squad, once in Barbadoes, I
Shot my own comrade when condemned to die.
I never dream of him, for that was war.
Under old Magon, too, at Trafalgar,
I hacked the hands of English boarders. Ten
My ax lopped off. I dream not of those men.
The death of Black, altho so long ago,
Upsets me. I'll not sleep to-night. It brings . . .
Here, boy! Another glass! We'll talk of other things!
THE FIRST SETTLER'S STORY
Well, when I first infested this retreat,
Things to my view look'd frightful incomplete;
But I had come with heart-thrift in my song,
And brought my wife and plunder right along;
I hadn't a round-trip ticket to go back,
And if I had there was no railroad track;
And drivin' East was what I couldn't endure:
I hadn't started on a circular tour.
My girl-wife was as brave as she was good,
And help'd me every blessed way she could;
She seem'd to take to every rough old tree,
As sing'lar as when first she took to me.
She kep' our little log house neat as wax,
And once I caught her fooling with my ax.
She hadn't the muscle (tho she had the heart)
In outdoor work to take an active part;
She was delicious, both to hear and see,-
That pretty girl-wife that kep' house for me.
Well, neighborhoods meant counties in those days;
The roads didn't have accommodating ways;
And maybe weeks would pass before she'd see—
And much less talk with anyone but me.
The Indians sometimes show'd their sun-baked faces,
But they didn't teem with conversational graces;
Some ideas from the birds and trees she stole,
But 'twasn't like talking with a human soul;
And finally I thought that I could trace
A half heart-hunger peering from her face.
One night, when I came home unusual late,
Too hungry and too tired to feel first-rate,
Her supper struck me wrong (tho I'll allow
She hadn't much to strike with, anyhow);
And, when I went to milk the cows, and found
They'd wandered from their usual feeding-ground,
And maybe'd left a few long miles behind 'em,
Which I must copy if I meant to find 'em,
Flash-quick the stay-chains of my temper broke,
And in a trice these hot words I had spoke:
"You ought to've kept the animals in view,
And drove them in; you'd nothing else to do.
The heft of all our life on me must fall;
You just lie round, and let me do it all."
That speech, it hadn't been gone a half a minute
Before I saw the cold black poison in it;
And I'd have given all I had, and more,
To've only safely got it back indoor.
I'm now what most folks "well-to-do" would call:
I feel to-day as if I'd give it all,
Provided I through fifty years might reach
And kill and bury that half-minute speech.
She handed back no words, as I could hear;
She didn't frown; she didn't shed a tear;
Half proud, half crush'd, she stood and look'd me o'er,
Like some one she had never seen before!
But such a sudden anguish-lit surprise
I never view'd before in human eyes.
(I've seen it oft enough since in a dream;
It sometimes wakes me like a midnight scream.)
Next morning, when, stone-faced but heavy-hearted,
With dinner-pail and sharpen'd ax I started
Away for my day's work, she watch'd the door,
And follow'd me half-way to it or more;
And I was just a-turning round at this,
And asking for my usual good-by kiss;
But on her lip I saw a proudish curve,
And in her eye a shadow of reserve;
And she had shown-perhaps half unawares-
Some little independent breakfast airs;
And so the usual parting didn't occur,
Altho her eyes invited me to her;
Or rather half invited me, for she
Didn't advertise to furnish kisses free:
You always had-that is, I had to pay
Full market price, and go more'n half the way;
So, with a short "Good-by" I shut the door,
And left her as I never had before.
But when at noon my lunch I came to eat,
Put up by her so delicately neat,
Choicer, somewhat, than yesterday's had been, And some fresh, sweet-eyed pansies she'd put in,"Tender and pleasant thoughts," I knew they meant,
It seem'd as if with me her kiss she'd sent;
Then I became once more her humble lover,
And said, "To-night I'll ask forgiveness of her."
I went home over-early on that eve,
Having contrived to make myself believe,
By various signs I kind o' knew and guess'd,
A thunder-storm was coming from the west.
('Tis strange, when one sly reason fills the heart,
How many honest ones will take its part:
A dozen first-class reasons said 'twas right
That I should strike home early on that night.)
Half out of breath, the cabin door I swung,
With tender heart-words trembling on my tongue;
But all within look'd desolate and bare:
My house had lost its soul: she was not there!
A pencil'd note was on the table spread,
And these are something like the words it said:
"The cows have stray'd away again, I fear;
I watch'd them pretty close; don't scold me, dear.
And where they are I think I nearly know;
I heard the bell not very long ago.
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