What is placed in front of you is easy to see, and what is expected is also very convenient to do. Everyone is happy to live a stable life, and the so-called movement is better than quietness. The more civilized human beings are, the more stable their lives are, so in a civilized society, things are laid out clearly, and accidents are rare. However, when an accident happens, and the situation is quite serious, those who can't adapt are doomed. They can't see hidden things, they can't cope with accidents, and they can't change old habits to adapt to new, unfamiliar ways of life. In short, when the life they are used to can't go on, there is only a dead end.
However, there are also people who are fit to survive and who are able to adapt themselves to a new life if they are disoriented or forced to leave their familiar calm environment and take an unfamiliar path. Edith Whittlesee was like that. She grew up in rural England, where life was always one of conformism, and breaking the rules was not only surprising, but even immoral. She worked very early, and according to the tradition there, she became a lady-in-waiting of a noble lady when she was a girl.
The role of civilization is to force the environment to obey human laws until it becomes as obedient as a machine. There will be no troubles, and the inevitable can be expected. It has become a pre-programmed play, and it will go smoothly to the point of entering the family's grave, not only will the hinges on the door rust, but the dust in the air will be constantly cleaned.
That's the environment for Edith Whittle. Nothing happened at all. At the age of twenty-five, she accompanied her mistress on a trip to the United States, but it was not a different thing, and the road was still the smooth, step-by-step road. It's just a different direction. The transatlantic road was so smooth that the ship was no longer a sea-going ship, but a wide inn with many corridors, moving swiftly and smoothly through the sea, and with its heavy body, it crushed the waves and turned the sea into a quiet and monotonous mill pool. Once on the other side of the Atlantic, the road continues on land – a well-arranged, decent road, with many hotels at every stop, and many hotels on wheels between those stops.
While living in Chicago, her hostess saw one side of social life, and Edith Whittsea saw the other, and it was not until she quit her errand to her hostess and became Edith Nelson that she showed her talents, perhaps only slightly, that she was not only able to cope with accidents, but also to control them. Hans Nelson was an immigrant, originally from Sweden, a carpenter by trade, and he was imbued with the tireless spirit of the Teutons, and it was because of this spirit that the people were constantly engaged in great adventures to the West. He was a strong, slow-witted man, who, though lacking in illusion, was boundless in his ambition, and whose loyalty and his love were as strong as his physique.
"After I've worked hard for a while and I've saved up a little money, I'm going to go to Colorado. The day after the wedding, he said to Edit. A year later, they did make it to Colorado. Hans Nelson was suffering from a mining fever for the first time he mined there. He searched for gold and silver, traveled all over the North and South Dakota, Idaho and eastern Oregon, and then into the mountains of British Columbia. No matter where he camped or walked, Edith Nelson always shared his ups and downs and worked together. The small steps she was accustomed to taking as a housewife had turned into big strides to climb mountains and mountains. She has learned to deal with danger with a calm eye and a clear head, and she is no longer as frightened and overwhelmed as she used to be. Fear of ignorance, which is common to those who grow up in the city, makes them as stupid as stupid horses, and when frightened they freeze there and resign themselves to their fate, rather than fight, or else they run blindly in fright, crowding each other and blocking the road.
Edith Nelson always encountered unexpected things along the way, and her vision was also trained, and she could not only see the obvious side of the water and mountains, but also see the hidden side of it. She, who had never been in the kitchen in her life, had learned how to make bread without flowers, yeast, or flour, and to bake bread on the fire with an ordinary pot, and when she had eaten even the last piece of pickled pork, she was able to make a substitute food out of deerskin shoes or the softer skin in his luggage, so that he could at least save his life and barely move forward. She had learned to harness her horse, and she was as good as a man—something that would have been disheartened in any city, and she knew which kind of luggage to tie up in which way. She is also able to make a fire out of wet wood in the pouring rain without losing her temper. In short, she is able to cope with the unexpected no matter what the circumstances. However, the biggest accident has not yet come, and she has not yet been tested in this way.
At that time, the tide of gold mining was pouring north to Alaska, so it was inevitable that Hans Nelson and his wife would be caught up in the current and flock to the Klondike. In the autumn of 1897 they arrived at Dia, but because they had no money and could not carry their luggage through the Cherkut Pass and then by water to Dawson. So, this winter, Hans Nelson took up his business to help everyone build the town of Squequequee, which came into being as a supplier of luggage and supplies.
It was as if he was on the edge of El Dorado, and this winter, he always felt that all of Alaska was calling him. The clamor of these was the most popular in the Gulf of Latua, and in the summer of 1898 he and his wife were groping their way along the twists and turns of the coastline in a seventy-foot-long Siwahi wooden boat. They were accompanied by many Indians and three whites. The Indians carried them and their provisions to a little desolate place about a hundred miles from Latua Bay, and when they landed, they returned to the town of Squequee, but the three whites remained, because they were in partnership with the Nelsons. The cost is shared by everyone, and the money earned in the future is also shared equally by everyone. During this time, Edith Nelson was responsible for cooking for everyone, and in the future, he could also share the same benefits as everyone else.
First, they cut down many fir trees and built a three-room wooden house. It's Edith Nelson's responsibility to take care of the housework. The men's duty was to find the gold, and to find it, they did it. This is not a surprising discovery, it is nothing more than an alluvial deposit with very low reserves, and one has to work very hard for many hours a day to get fifteen to twenty dollars of gold sand. This year, Alaska's short summer was much longer than usual, and in order to take advantage of the opportunity, they have been delaying the moment to return to the town of Squiquet. By the time they were about to leave, it was too late. They had made an appointment with dozens of local Indians to take advantage of their autumn business trip to the coast. The Sivahi waited for them until they could wait any longer before leaving. Now, the gang had no other way to go but to wait for a chance to take a boat. During this time, they hollowed out the gold mines and cut down a lot of firewood to store for the winter.
The warm weather of late autumn, like a dream, continued, and suddenly, in the midst of a sharp cry, winter came. Overnight, the weather changed, and when the gold diggers woke up, they were already howling with fierce winds, heavy snow, and thousands of miles of ice. Storm after storm, intermittent, silent on all sides, only the surging waves of the desolate shore broke the silence, and the frosty salt seemed to set a white edge on the beach.
Everything was fine inside the wooden house. Their gold sand has been weighed, and it is worth about eight thousand dollars, and no one can say that they are not satisfied. Several of the men made snowshoes, and with a single hunt they would bring back a lot of fresh meat and store it, and they would play cards endlessly during the long nights, sometimes with Whist, sometimes at five. Now, now that the mining was over, Editz Nelson left the work of making a fire and washing the dishes to the men, and he himself mended their socks and clothes.
There were never any complaints, quarrels, or unnecessary quarrels in this cabin, because everyone was lucky enough to celebrate each other. Hans Nelson was dull-minded and easy-going, and Edit's ability to deal with people was something he had long admired. Hardey, a tall, thin Texan, though taciturn and withdrawn, was very amiable, and always got along well with everyone as long as no one objected to his argument that gold would grow. The fourth of the gang, Michael Dunning, added an Irish flair to the joy of the wooden house. He is a tall and powerful man, and he is prone to sudden anger over a trivial matter, but when the situation is serious and the situation is very tense, his temper is very good. The fifth, and last, of them, is named Ducky, and he is a man who willingly acts as a clown for everyone, and even makes fun of himself in order to make everyone happy. He has been a human being all his life, as if it was just to make people laugh. In the quiet life of this group, there was never a serious quarrel. They had only worked for one summer, and each of them had received 1,600 yuan, and the wooden house was naturally filled with a joyful atmosphere of affluence and contentment.
Then something unexpected happened. They had just sat down to eat breakfast, and it was already eight o'clock (which was naturally postponed after the gold panning had stopped), but they had to light the candle in the mouth of the bottle to eat. Editz and Hans sat face to face at opposite ends of the table. Halki and Daki sat on one side of the table with their backs to the door. There was an empty seat across from them. Dunning hasn't come yet.
Hans Nelson looked at the empty chair, shook his head slowly, and tried to show off his clumsy humor, and said, "He is always the first to eat." It's weird. Maybe he's sick. ”
"Where is Michael?" asked Edit.
"He got up a little earlier than we did and went outside. Halki replied.
Ducky had a mischievous smile on his face. He pretended to know why Dunning didn't come, and deliberately put on a mysterious appearance, so that they would all come and ask him. Editz went to the men's bedrooms and returned to the table. Hans looked at her, and she shook her head.
"He used to eat and was never late. She said.
"I don't understand," said Hans, "that his appetite has always been as great as that of a horse. ”
"That's too bad!" said Ducky, shaking his head sadly.
One of the buddies didn't come, but they made a joke.
"That's really unfortunate!" Ducky spontaneously began.
"What?" they asked in unison.
"Poor Michael. He replied miserably.
"What happened to Michael?" asked Halki.
"He'll never be hungry again," said Ducky sadly, "and he won't have an appetite." He didn't like the food anymore. ”
"Don't you like it? When he eats it, even his ears will be soaked in the basin. Khalkie said.
"He did that as a courtesy to Mrs. Nelson," Ducky retorted at once, "I know, I understand, it's too bad." Why isn't he here? Because he's out. What are you going out for? Because he wants to have an appetite. How can it be appetizing? He walked barefoot in the snow. Oh, don't I understand? This is how rich people use this method to appetize when they have a lack of appetite. Michael had sixteen hundred dollars. He's a rich man, and he has no appetite. So, that's why he's thinking about appetizing. If you open the door, you will see him walking barefoot in the snow. But you can't see his appetite. That's his problem. When he finds an appetite, he'll grab it and come back for breakfast. ”
Ducky's gibberish drew laughter. Before the laughter could stop, the door opened, and Dunning entered. Everyone looked back at him, and he had a shotgun in his hand. By the time they looked at him, he had raised his gun to his shoulder and fired twice. Before the first bullet was fired, Ducky collapsed on the table, knocking over his coffee, his tousled yellow hair drenched in his polenta. His forehead pressed against the edge of the basin, causing it to rise at a forty-five degree angle to the table. Halki jumped up, still in mid-air, and when the second shot went off, he fell face down on the floor. His phrase "Oh my God!" was only grunted in his throat and could not be heard.
This was unexpected, and both Hans and Editz were stunned. They sat nervously at the table, their eyes fixed on the murderer as if they had been enchanted. They saw him faintly in the smoke of gunpowder. At this point, there was silence, except for the sound of Ducky's cup of overturned coffee dripping on the floor. Dunning disassembled the breech of the shotgun and pulled out the bullet casing. He held the gun in one hand and reached into his pocket with the other to pull out the bullets.
Just as he was about to load the bullet, Editz Nelson came to his senses. He clearly wanted to kill Hans and her. The accident was so terrible and incomprehensible that she was so confused and mentally numb for about three seconds. Then she stepped forward and fought him. She really fought with him, and she jumped up to the murderer like a cat and grabbed him by the collar with both hands. Her collision caused him to stagger and take a few steps back. He tried to shake her off, but he wouldn't give up the gun in his hand. It wasn't easy, as her sturdy body had become like a cat's. She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him to the side with all her strength, almost knocking him to the floor. He immediately stood up straight and spun around quickly. She grabbed his neck so tightly that her feet left the floor as her body swirled with him, and she grabbed his neck with her hand and spun it in the air. After a while, her body slammed into a chair, and the man and woman fell to the floor in desperate struggle, taking up half of the room.
Hans Nelson had to take action half a second later than his wife. His nerves and mind reacted more slowly than his wife's. His senses were sluggish, and it took him an extra half a second to understand the situation, make up his mind, and start acting. Editz had already pounced on Dunning and grabbed him by the neck before Hans jumped. But he wasn't as calm as she was. He was mad, like the old drunken warriors. As soon as he jumped up from his chair, his mouth made a sound that was half like a lion's roar and half like a cow's roar. Editz and Dunning's bodies were already spinning, and he was still roaring and roaring, and then he chased the whirlwind around the room until they hit the floor.
As soon as Hans pounced on the man who was lying flat, he punched him with his fist as if he were frantically. These fists were like hammers for striking iron, and later, when Editz felt that Dunning was weak, he let go of his hand and rolled to the side. She lay on the floor, panting and watching. The fierce fist still kept hitting like a shower. Dunning didn't seem to care, he didn't even move. Only then did she realize that he had passed out. She quickly yelled at Hans to stop, and then she shouted again. But no matter how much she shouted, he ignored him, she grabbed his arm, and he ignored it, but it was not convenient for him to shake his fist.
So, she had to keep her body between her husband and the murderer who would not resist. She did not act out of reason, nor out of mercy, nor out of obedience to religious precepts. This can be said to be motivated by a law-abiding spirit, which was forced to do so by the morals she had cultivated since childhood. Hans didn't stop until he realized he was beating his wife. He obediently allowed Editz to push him away, as if a fierce and obedient dog had driven his master away. This analogy could go further. Hans's throat, like that of a wild beast, still had a sinister sound of unending anger, and on several occasions he seemed to jump back and pounce on his captive, but his wife quickly blocked him with her body.
Editz pushed her husband backwards step by step. She had never seen him like this, and she felt that his aura was even more terrifying than when Dunning had fought her fiercest. She could hardly believe that the furious beast was her Hans, and she shuddered, winced, and suddenly felt an instinctive fear that he would bite her hand like a mad beast. As for Hans, although he didn't want to hurt her, he refused to give up, and still had to go back and fight again, and for several seconds he always suddenly stepped back and suddenly lunged forward. Therefore, she resolutely stopped him until he came back to his senses and calmed down.
They stood up. Hans staggered back to the wall, leaning against it, the flesh of his face twitching, and his throat continued to let out a deep roar, but the sound was already quiet, and after a few seconds it was silent. Now, the reaction came, and Iditz stood in the middle of the room, wringing his hands, panting, and trembling violently.
Hans didn't look at anything, but Edit's eyes were feverishly roaming the room, watching what had just happened. Dunning lay there motionless. The chair that had been knocked over in the frenzy was right next to him. The shotgun was half pressed under his body, and the breech was still disassembled. The two unloaded bullets had rolled out of his right hand, which he had clenched so tightly that he didn't let go until he lost consciousness. Halki threw himself face down on the spot where he had fallen, and Darki leaned forward on the table, his unkempt yellow hair soaked in his pot of polenta. The basin was still cocked to one side, at a forty-five degree angle to the tabletop. The upturned basin struck her as strange. Why didn't it fall? It's so unconscionable. Even if someone dies, it is unreasonable for a bowl of porridge to be cocked on the table like this.
She glanced back at Dunning, and her eyes immediately returned to the upturned basin, which was so unreasonable! she felt a nervous urge to laugh. Then she noticed the silence in the room, and in anticipation of something something was going on, she forgot about the basin. The sound of the coffee dripping from the table was so monotonous, but it only strengthened the silence. Why didn't Hans move? Why didn't he speak? She looked at him and wanted to say something, only to realize that her tongue had stopped listening. There was a peculiar pain in her throat, and her mouth was dry and bitter. She could only look at Hans, and Hans was looking at her.
Suddenly, a shrill metallic sound broke the silence. She screamed, and immediately turned her eyes to the table. The basin has been poured out. Hans sighed, as if he had just woken up from a dream. The sound of the basin reminded them of the new world they were going to live in in the future. And this wooden house is the new world in which they will live and act in the future. Life in the original wooden house is gone. The life in front of me is completely new and unfamiliar. This unexpected turn of events casts a layer of magic on the surface of things, changing their vista, changing their value, interweaving the real and the unreal, in a confusing way.
"Oh my God, Hans!" was Edit's first sentence.
He didn't answer, just glared at her in horror. He took a slow look at the room, and then took a closer look. Then he put on his hat and walked towards the door.
"Where are you going?" asked Edit, extremely worried.
Having grasped the handle on the door, he twisted half his head and replied, "Go dig a few graves." ”
"Hans, don't leave me here alone, with these—" she glanced around the room—"stay with these." ”
"Sooner or later, you always have to plane. He said.
"But you don't know how many graves to dig up," she objected desperately. Seeing that he was hesitant, she said, "Besides, I will also go with you and help." ”
Hans then walked over to the table and blew out the candle without thinking. Then they came together to check the room. Halki and Darki were dead—horribly dead, the shotguns were too close to Hans to go near Dunning, and Editz had to go alone to inspect this part.
"He's not dead. She said to Hans.
He walked over and looked down at the murderer.
Editz heard her husband muttering and asked, "What did you say?"
"I'm so ashamed that I didn't beat him to death. That was his reply.
Editz was bending over to examine Dunning.
"You go away!" ordered Hans very roughly, in a somewhat strange tone.
She suddenly panicked and glanced at him. He had already grabbed the shotgun that Dunning had dropped and was shoving the bullet into it.
"What are you going to do?" she shouted, quickly straightening her bent waist.
Hans did not reply, but she saw that the shotgun was being raised to his shoulder, and she quickly grabbed the muzzle of the gun with her hand and pushed it upward.
"Leave me alone!" he exclaimed.
He tried to snatch the gun from her, but she got closer and hugged him.
"Hans!Hans!Wake up!" she cried, "don't go crazy!"
"He killed Darki and Halki!" and that's her husband's reply, "I'm going to kill him." ”
"But it's not right," she objected, "and the law." ”
He sneered, he didn't believe that in such a place, the law could do anything, he just stubbornly and emotionlessly repeated the words, "He killed Darki and Halki." ”
She argued with him for a long time, but it was only a one-sided argument, for he was stubborn and kept repeating the phrase: "He killed Darki and Halki." And she can't get rid of the education she received as a child and her own national traditions. It's a law-abiding tradition, and for her, the right behavior is the same as law-abiding. She didn't see a better way to go. She thought that Hans's act of taking law enforcement into her own hands was no more justified than what Dunning did. It is not right to treat mistakes with mistakes, and now, there is only one way to punish Deng Ning, and it should be punished according to the regulations of society. Eventually, Hans was convinced.
"Well," he said, "whatever you want." Maybe tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, he'll beat you and me to death. ”
She shook her head and held out her hand for him to hand over his shotgun. He just reached out to hand it over, but shrank back again.
"It's better for me to beat him to death. He pleaded.
She shook her head again, and he was about to hand her the gun again, when the door opened, and an Indian came in without knocking, and with him a fierce wind and snow blew in. They turned to face him, Hans still holding the shotgun in his hand, and the uninvited guest was not at all flustered at this sight. With a sweep of his eyes, he could see clearly that there were dead and wounded. There was no surprise on his face, not even curiosity. Harki lay at his feet, but he ignored him. For him, Halki's body did not exist.
"It's windy. The Indian said this, which was a greeting, "Are you all right? Are you all good?"
Hans still had the gun in his hand, and he thought that the Indian must have thought that he had killed the corpse lying on the ground. He looked at his wife with pleading eyes.
"Good morning, Nikoke," she said, her voice seemed forced, "not good, very bad." It's a big mess. ”
"Goodbye, now I'm leaving, things are busy. When the Indian had finished speaking, he did not hurry, and very carefully stepped over the bloodstains on the floor, opened the door, and went out.
Mr. and Mrs. Nelson looked at each other.
"He thought we did it," said Hans, breathlessly, "and he thought I did it." ”
Editz passed silently for a moment, and then said in a very short, sophisticated tone:
"Don't worry what he thinks, that's for later. Now, we're going to dig two graves. But we need to tie Dunning up first and don't let him run away. ”
Hans didn't even want to touch Dunning, but Editz alone tied Dunning's hands and feet. Later, she and Hans went out into the snow. The ground was already frozen hard, and the hoe could not get into it. They first fetched a lot of firewood, swept away the snow, and started a fire on the frozen ground. It took an hour to burn the mud a few inches deep. They dug up the mud and lit a fire. At this rate, you can only dig two or three inches deep in an hour.
It's a difficult, hard job. The blizzard was blowing so hard that the fire was always not burning, and the wind was piercing through their clothes, freezing them all over. They rarely talk. The wind does not allow them to speak. Aside from the occasional speculation about Dunning's motives for committing crimes, they remained silent, their hearts pressed on the horrors of the tragedy. At one o'clock in the afternoon, Hans looked at the wooden house and said he was hungry.
"No, not yet, Hans," replied Edit, "and the house is like that, and I can't go back and cook alone." ”
At two o'clock, Hans offered to accompany her back, but she insisted that he do it. At four o'clock, the two graves were dug up, and the pit was shallow, but only two feet deep, but it was sufficient. In the evening, Hans pulled out his sleigh and, in the darkness of the blizzard, dragged the two dead men to the frozen grave. It's not like a funeral. The sled was deeply trapped in the wind-blown snowdrift and was very difficult to drag. The couple had not eaten anything since the previous night, they were hungry and tired, and their bodies were very weak. They have no strength to resist the wind, and sometimes, they even blow it down. On several occasions, even the sleigh overturned, and they had to reload the horrible goods. When they reached a hundred feet from the grave, they had to climb a steep slope, and the two men had to lie down on their stomachs, like dogs dragging sleds, using their arms as legs and sticking their hands into the snow. Even so, on two occasions they had to drag down the heavy sleigh and slide down the hillside, making the living and the dead, and the ropes and the sled, terribly entangled.
"Tomorrow, I'll put two more wooden signs and write their names. "After they finished the grave," Hans said.
Editz sobbed and cried. All she could do was pray a few words intermittently, and even after the funeral was done, her husband was now carrying her back to the wooden house.
Dunning had woken up. He rolled around on the floor, trying in vain to break free from the belt that bound him. He looked at Hans and Editz with sparkling eyes, but did not want to speak. Hans still refused to touch the murderer, and watched sullenly as Editz dragged Dunning from the floor to the man's bedroom. However, with all his might, he could not be lifted from the floor to his bed.
"It's better for me to give him a shot to save me trouble later. Hans pleaded one last time.
Editz shook his head, and bent down again to move Dunning. What made her feel strange was that this time, he was easily moved. It turned out that Hans was helping her move, and she knew that Hans's heart had softened. Then, they clean the kitchen. But the terrible blood stains on the floor still couldn't be washed away, so Hans had to gouge off the layer and start a fire in the stove with shavings.
The days went by day by day. Most of the time was spent in darkness and silence, broken only by the sound of blizzards and waves crashing on the frozen shores. Hans was really obedient to Edit. His astonishing enterprising spirit is completely gone. She was going to use her methods against Dunning, so he left the matter entirely to her.
This murderer is a constant threat. At any given moment, he could break free from the belt that bound him, so they had to keep an eye on him day and night. Hans or Edit, always sitting next to him, holding the shotgun with live ammunition. Initially, Editz set an eight-hour shift, but the constant monitoring was too intense, and she and Hans changed shifts every four hours. With their alternate sleeping and guarding Dunning, they barely had time to cook or chop wood.
Ever since Nikock's unfortunate arrival, the local Indians have refused to come back to the hut. Editz then called Hans to their hut and asked them to take Dunning in a canoe to the nearest white village or trading post along the coast, but the negotiations were fruitless. Editz had no choice but to visit Nikoke in person. He was the head of the small village, and he understood his responsibilities perfectly, and he made his point of view clear to her in a few words.
"It's a white mess," he said, "not a Siwahi mess." If our men had helped you, it would have become a mess for the Sivahites. When the white mess mixes with the Siwahi mess and becomes a mess, it becomes an incomprehensible, endless mess. It's no good to be a mess. Our people have done nothing wrong. Why should they help you and cause trouble for themselves?"
So Idic had no choice but to go back to that terrible wooden hut and go to the endless, four-hour shift. Sometimes, when it was her turn to be on duty, she would sit next to the prisoner with a live shotgun resting on her lap, close her eyes and take a nap. At such times, she would always wake up suddenly, grab her gun, and immediately stare at Dunning. This is clearly caused by excessive nervous tension, and of course the effect on her is not good. She was so afraid of him that even when she was sober, if he moved under the covers, she couldn't help but be frightened and hurried to grab the shotgun.
She knew that if she continued like this, her nerves would go wrong at any time. The first sign was that her eyes were jumping, forcing her to close her eyes and let them settle down. After a while, the eyelids would twitch nervously again, and I couldn't control it. But what pained her the most was that she couldn't forget the tragedy. The horror she felt on the morning of the accident tormented her. Whenever she gave the murderer something to eat, she had to grit her teeth, hold her body up, and pluck up her courage.
Hans was affected differently. He was haunted by a thought: it was his responsibility to kill Dunning. Whenever he went to serve the man who was bound or watched over him, Editz feared that Hans would add another stroke to the death book of the wooden house. He always cursed Dunning savagely, and was very rough with him. In order to hide his desire to kill, Hans would sometimes say to his wife: "Slowly, you will tell me to kill him, but when the time comes, I will not want to kill him." I don't want to defile my hands. "On several occasions, however, when she was not on duty, she crept into the room, and always found these two men, like a pair of wild beasts, vicious, you look at me, I look at you, Hans's face was murderous, and Dunning's face was as fierce as a mouse that had been cornered. Then she would shout, "Hans, wake up!" and he would calm down, surprised, embarrassed, but not remorseful.
Thus, since this accident, Hans has also become a problem for Editz Nelson to deal with. At first, there was only one question of dealing with Dunning in a proper way, and as for the so-called proper way, in her opinion, it meant that he should be guarded until he was brought before a formal court for trial. But now Hans had to take into account, and she felt that there was a question of whether he was sane or not, and whether his soul could be saved. In addition, she soon found that her strength and patience were also in question. Her body was about to collapse due to the tension of God. Her left arm would shake and twitch involuntarily. She spills food out when she uses a spoon, and her left hand is no longer listening. She thought it was a dance style (1) and she was afraid that the disease would develop very severely. What would happen if she did collapse? The thought of the future when only Dunning and Hans were left in this wooden house added another layer of horror to her heart.
——————
(1) A disease that was once prevalent in Germania.
Three days later, Dunning began to speak. His first question was, "What are you going to do with me?" and he asked it every day, several times a day. Editz always replied to him that he must be dealt with according to the law. At the same time, she asked him every day, "Why do you want to do such a thing?" and he never answered this question. As soon as he heard this, he flew into a rage, desperately trying to break free from the belt that was tied to him, and threatened her what he would do with her when he broke free, and he said that sooner or later he would break free. At such times, she pulled the two triggers on the gun and prepared to kill him as he broke free from his belt, but she herself would tremble, feel her heart beat and dizzy from the excessive nervousness and shock.
However, after a long time, Deng Ning finally became more compliant. To her, he seemed tired of lying still all day. He began to beg her to let him go. He took many brutal vows, saying that he would never harm them, and that he would go down the coast alone and surrender himself to the court. He was willing to give them his share of the gold. He will go all the way to the depths of the wilderness and never show his face again in civilized society. As long as she let him go, he was willing to kill himself. Normally, he would plead until he would unconsciously babble until she thought he was going mad, but in spite of his mad begging her, she always shook her head and refused to release him.
Later, after a few weeks, he became more compliant. During this period of time, his spirit became more and more depressed. He would often turn his head over and over on the pillow like a perverse child, muttering, "I'm so tired of it, I'm so tired of it." Later, after a short time, he begged them to put him to death with great emotion, begging Editz to kill him, and then begging Hans to relieve him of his suffering, so that he could at least sleep in peace.
The situation is rapidly becoming intolerable. Edit's nerves were getting strained, and she knew she could collapse at any moment. She couldn't even get a good rest, so she was always on the lookout for fear that while she was sleeping, Hans would go on a rampage and kill Dunning. At this time, although it was already the first month, it would be a few months before the brigs that came to do business could dock. They had not expected to spend the winter in this wooden house, but now that the food was running low day by day, Hans could not go out hunting to make up for it. In order to guard their prisoners, they were simply tied up in this wooden house.
Ititz also knew that he had to find a way. She forced herself to reconsider the question. She still can't get rid of the traditional views of her people, and her law-abiding spirit that is half blood, half education. She knew that whatever she did, she had to follow the law. Whenever the shotgun rested on her lap, the restless murderer lay beside her, the blizzard roared outside, and she had to be guarded for hours on end, she used her creativity to consider social issues and create a theory of the evolution of the law herself. She believes that the so-called law is nothing more than the judgment and will of a group of people. As for the size of the group, it doesn't matter. As she understands it, there are people as small as Switzerland and as large as the United States. According to this reasoning, it doesn't matter how small this group of people is. Perhaps, there are only 10,000 people in a country, but their collective judgment and will will still become the law of that country. Why, then, can't a thousand people count as a group? If a thousand people can be a group, why can't a hundred? Why can't it be fifty? Why can't it be five? Why can't it be one or two?
This conclusion surprised her, and she addressed the subject to Hans. At first, Hans did not understand, but later, when he understood, he gave a convincing example. He talked about the meetings of the gold diggers, and at every meeting, the local gold diggers would get together to make laws and enforce them. According to him, sometimes, there are only ten to fifteen people in total, but for these ten or fifteen people, the opinion of the majority is the law, and whoever violates the opinion of the majority will be punished.
It was only at this point that Idic figured out her problem. Dunning must be hanged. Hans was also in favor. In their group, the two of them were in the majority. According to the collective will, Dunning must be hanged. In order to carry out this decision, Iditz was very serious and must follow the customary form. But the group was so small that Hans and she had to act as witnesses, jurors, judges, and executioners. She formally charged Michael Dunning with the murder of Darkey and Halfey, the prisoner lying in bed, and listened first to Hans's testimony and then to Edit's testimony. He would not plead guilty, nor would he say that he was innocent, and when Idic asked him if he had anything to say to defend himself, he remained silent. So, together with Hans, without leaving their seats, she declared the guilt of the jurors. Then, she acts as a judge and pronounces the verdict in court. Despite her trembling voice, fluttering eyelids, and twitching left arm, she read the verdict anyway.
"Michael Dunning, in three days, you're going to be hanged. ”
This is the verdict. The man breathed a sigh of relief unconsciously, then smiled contemptuously and said, "So, this damn bed won't torture my back anymore, and that will give me peace of mind." ”
After the verdict was announced, all three people seemed to have a sense of relaxation. Especially from Dunning's face, it is easiest to see. His gloomy and ferocious aura was gone, and he chatted casually with his caretakers, and even said witty things like in the old days. Editz read the Bible to him, and he was satisfied. She was reading the New Testament, and when she read about the prodigal son and the thief on the cross, he seemed to be listening with relish.
The day before the hanging, Editz asked him the old question, "Why do you do this?" Dunning replied, "It's easy." I want to ......"
But she immediately stopped him, told him to wait a little longer, and hurried to Hans's bedside. At this time, it was his turn to rest, and he woke up from his dream, rubbed his eyes, and said a few complaining words.
"Go out," she said to him, "get Nikock, and another Indian." Michael is about to confess. You're going to force them to come. Bring the rifles, and if you have to, force them with the muzzle of the gun and bring them here. ”
Half an hour later, Nikoke and his uncle Hadikwan were led into the house where the man had died. They did not come of their own free will, but Hans carried them with rifles.
"Nikok," said Edit, "will not trouble you and your people in this matter. We don't ask anything else at all, but please sit here, listen, and find out. ”
So, Michael Dunning, after being sentenced to death, finally confessed to his crime publicly. As he spoke, Iditz recorded his confession, and the two Indians listened, and Hans stood guard at the door for fear that the witnesses would escape.
According to Deng Ning, he has not returned to his hometown for fifteen years, and he has been planning to bring a lot of money back in the future so that his wife can spend the rest of the year comfortably.
"But what can I do with these six hundred dollars?" he asked, "and my aim is to get all the gold, and all the eight thousand dollars of gold." That way, I can go home with dignity. So I thought, isn't it easy? I can kill you first, and then report to the town of Squequee, that you were killed by the Indians, and then flee to Ireland. So, I will do my own thing to kill you, but, as Halki used to like to say, my ambition is so great that by the time I swallow it, I have fallen. That's my confession. Since I have done this kind of ghostly thing, now, as long as God wills, I am willing to atone for my sins to God. ”
"Niko, Hardwickan, you have all heard what this white man said," said Editz to the two Indians, "and his confession is now written on this piece of paper, and now it is time for you to sign it, and sign it on this paper, so that when other white men come, they will know that you are in attendance." ”
After the two Sivahi had drawn two crosses behind their names, Editz gave them a summons to bring all the people of their tribe to witness again tomorrow and then allow them to return.
They let go of Dunning's hand so he could sign the paperwork, and then there was no sound in the room. Hans looked uneasy, and Editz seemed to feel uncomfortable. Dunning lay on his back with his face to the sky, staring at the moss-covered cracks in the roof.
"Now I am going to atone for my sins to God. He muttered. Then he turned around and looked at Edit. "Read me a passage of the Bible," he said, and then, as if jokingly, he added, "maybe it will make me forget how hard this bed is." ”
On the day of the hanging, the weather was sunny and cold. The thermometer pointed to minus 25 degrees Celsius, and the cold wind penetrated into people's clothes, flesh and bones. For the first time in weeks, Dunning stood up today. His muscles had not moved for a long time, and he could no longer maintain an upright posture as usual, so he simply could not stand. He was always swaying back and forth, falling as he walked, and had to hold on to Editz with his bound hands so that he would not fall.
"Really, I'm a little dizzy. He smiled weakly.
After a while, he added, "It is a good thing to say, and it is all over at last." I knew that that damn bed would torture me to death. ”
When Iditz put his fur hat on his head and was about to put down his ear guard for him, he laughed and said:
"Why did you put them down?"
"It was cold outside. She replied.
"What does it matter if poor Michael Dunning freezes one or two ears in another ten minutes?" he asked.
She had brace herself and was ready to face this final test, but his words hit her self-confidence. Until now, everything seemed like a phantom in a dream, but the cruel truth he had just spoken about woke her up, and she opened her eyes to see what was happening. The Irishman also saw that she was uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have upset you with this stupidity," he said remorsefully, "I didn't mean to. Today is a great day for me, Michael Dunning, and I am as happy as a lark. ”
He immediately whistled merrily, but in a moment it became gloomy and ceased to sound.
"I wish there was a pastor here," he said thoughtfully, and then quickly added, "but a veteran like me, Michael Dunning, would not be sad if he did not have these pleasures when he set out." ”
His body was already very weak, and he had not walked for a long time, and as soon as the door opened, he stepped out, and he almost fell to the wind. Editz and Hans, who had to carry him one by one, told them jokes and did his best to make them happy. Later, when he told them how to send his share of the gold to his mother in Ireland, he stopped laughing.
They climbed a hill and came to an open spot in the woods. Here, around a barrel erected in the snow, stood a very serious crowd of men, among whom were Nikuk, Hadikwan, and all the local Sivahi, even children and dogs, who came to see how the white men were enforcing the law. Nearby there was also a frozen ground that Hans had burned, and a grave that had been dug up.
Dunning, with a sophisticated eye, looked at the things that had been prepared, and he saw the grave, the barrel, the rope, and the great branch from which the rope was hanging, and noted the thickness of the rope and the branch.
"Seriously, Hans, if I had been asked to prepare these things for you, I would never have done it more than you. ”
He made the joke and laughed out loud, but Hans's lifeless, eerie face seemed to be dissolved only by the sound of the doomsday trumpet. At the same time, Hans felt miserable. It was only now that he understood what a difficult task it was to put a compatriot to death. Editz had already thought of it, but it didn't make the task any easier. Now, she has lost faith and doesn't know if she will be able to support it to the end. She felt an irrepressible thought in her heart, she wanted to scream, she wanted to scream, she wanted to throw herself in the snow, she wanted to blindfold her eyes, she turned around, she ran blindly, she ran away into the woods, or any other place. The reason why she was able to puff up her chest, go to the front, and do what she had to do, was entirely by a noble power of the heart. She felt that this time, from beginning to end, she had to thank Dunning for helping her through it all.
"Give me a hand. Dunning said to Hans, and with the help of Hans's strength, he barely climbed onto the barrel.
He bent down so that Editz could put the rope around his neck. Then he stood up, and by this time Hans had tightened the rope that had been attached to the branch above his head.
"Michael Dunning, do you have anything else to say?" Edit's voice was crisp, but still a little shaky.
Dunning shifted his foot on the bucket, looked down shyly, like a man giving a speech for the first time, and cleared his throat.
"I'm glad that it's all over," he said, "and that you have always treated me as a Christian, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kindness to me." ”
"God will take you, a repentant sinner. She said.
"Yes," he said, his deep voice as if echoing her shrill voice, "God will take me, a repentant sinner." ”
"Farewell, Michael. She shouted, with a tone of desperation in her voice.
She used all her strength to push the barrel, but she couldn't knock it down.
"Hans, quick, help me!" she cried out feebly.
She felt like the last of her strength was running out, but the barrel didn't move. Hans hurriedly ran to her side and pushed the barrel away from Dunning's feet.
She immediately turned her back and put her fingers in her ears. Then she burst out laughing bitterly, like a metallic voice, and Hans was startled, for he had never been so frightened in spite of this tragedy. Edith Nelson finally collapsed. Even when she was insane, she knew she was broken, and to her delight, she had managed to survive in such a stressful situation, and that it was all done. She staggered over to Hans.
"Help me into the house, Hans. She barely managed to utter the words.
"Let me rest and rest," she added, "just let me rest, rest, rest." ”
Hans put his arm around her waist, and held her, guiding her feeble steps, and she walked back from the snow. But the Indians remained there, staring solemnly at how the white laws forced a man to wander in mid-air.
