"London, Jack - Tales of the klondyke" - читать интересную книгу автора (London Jack)

make us that we might live one with the other. As at the
beginning it was the church which would not bless my birth, so now
it was the church which refused me marriage and put the blood of
men upon my hands. Bien! Thus have I cause to love the church.
So I struck the priest on his woman's mouth, and we took swift
horses, the girl and I, to Fort Pierre, where was a minister of
good heart. But hot on our trail was her father, and brothers,
and other men he had gathered to him. And we fought, our horses
on the run, till I emptied three saddles and the rest drew off and
went on to Fort Pierre. Then we took east, the girl and I, to the
hills and forests, and we lived one with the other, and we were
not married,--the work of the good church which I love like a son.

"But mark you, for this is the strangeness of woman, the way of
which no man may understand. One of the saddles I emptied was
that of her father's, and the hoofs of those who came behind had
pounded him into the earth. This we saw, the girl and I, and this
I had forgot had she not remembered. And in the quiet of the
evening, after the day's hunt were done, it came between us, and
in the silence of the night when we lay beneath the stars and
should have been one. It was there always. She never spoke, but
it sat by our fire and held us ever apart. She tried to put it
aside, but at such times it would rise up till I could read it in
the look of her eyes, in the very in-take of her breath.

"So in the end she bore me a child, a woman-child, and died. Then
I went among my mother's people, that it might nurse at a warm
breast and live. But my hands were wet with the blood of men,
look you, because of the church, wet with the blood of men. And
the Riders of the North came for me, but my mother's brother, who
was then chief in his own right, hid me and gave me horses and
food. And we went away, my woman-child and I, even to the Hudson
Bay Country, where white men were few and the questions they asked
not many. And I worked for the company a hunter, as a guide, as a
driver of dogs, till my woman-child was become a woman, tall, and
slender, and fair to the eye.

"You know the winter, long and lonely, breeding evil thoughts and
bad deeds. The Chief Factor was a hard man, and bold. And he was
not such that a woman would delight in looking upon. But he cast
eyes upon my woman-child who was become a woman. Mother of God!
he sent me away on a long trip with the dogs, that he might--you
understand, he was a hard man and without heart. She was most
white, and her soul was white, and a good woman, and--well, she
died.

"It was bitter cold the night of my return, and I had been away
months, and the dogs were limping sore when I came to the fort.
The Indians and breeds looked on me in silence, and I felt the
fear of I knew not what, but I said nothing till the dogs were fed