[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.By and by somebody says: Go for his daughter! quick, go for his daughter; sometimes he lllisten to her.If anybody can persuade him, she can. So somebody started on a run.I walked down street a ways andstopped.In about five or ten minutes here comes Boggs again, butnot on his horse.He was a-reeling across the street towards me, bare-headed, with a friend on both sides of him a-holt of his arms andhurrying him along.He was quiet, and looked uneasy; and he warn thanging back any, but was doing some of the hurrying himself.Somebody sings out: Boggs! I looked over there to see who said it, and it was that Colonel145 H U C K L E B E R R Y F I N NSherburn.He was standing perfectly still in the street, and had apistol raised in his right hand not aiming it, but holding it outwith the barrel tilted up towards the sky.The same second I see ayoung girl coming on the run, and two men with her.Boggs andthe men turned round to see who called him, and when they seethe pistol the men jumped to one side, and the pistol-barrel comedown slow and steady to a level both barrels cocked.Boggsthrows up both of his hands and says, O Lord, don t shoot! Bang!goes the first shot, and he staggers back, clawing at the air bang!goes the second one, and he tumbles backwards on to the ground,heavy and solid, with his arms spread out.That young girlscreamed out and comes rushing, and down she throws herself onher father, crying, and saying, Oh, he s killed him, he s killed him! The crowd closed up around them, and shouldered and jammedone another, with their necks stretched, trying to see, and peopleon the inside trying to shove them back and shouting, Back, back!give him air, give him air! Colonel Sherburn he tossed his pistol on to the ground, and turnedaround on his heels and walked off.They took Boggs to a little drug store, the crowd pressing aroundjust the same, and the whole town following, and I rushed and got agood place at the window, where I was close to him and could see in.They laid him on the floor and put one large Bible under his head,and opened another one and spread it on his breast; but they toreopen his shirt first, and I seen where one of the bullets went in.Hemade about a dozen long gasps, his breast lifting the Bible up whenhe drawed in his breath, and letting it down again when he breathedit out and after that he laid still; he was dead.Then they pulled hisdaughter away from him, screaming and crying, and took her off.She was about sixteen, and very sweet and gentle looking, but awfulpale and scared.Well, pretty soon the whole town was there, squirming and scroug-ing and pushing and shoving to get at the window and have a look,but people that had the places wouldn t give them up, and folksbehind them was saying all the time, Say, now, you ve lookedenough, you fellows; tain t right and tain t fair for you to stay thar all146 H U C K L E B E R R Y F I N Nthe time, and never give nobody a chance; other folks has their rightsas well as you. There was considerable jawing back, so I slid out, thinking maybethere was going to be trouble.The streets was full, and everybody wasexcited.Everybody that seen the shooting was telling how it hap-pened, and there was a big crowd packed around each one of thesefellows, stretching their necks and listening.One long, lanky man,with long hair and a big white fur stovepipe hat on the back of hishead, and a crooked-handled cane, marked out the places on theground where Boggs stood and where Sherburn stood, and the peo-ple following him around from one place to t other and watchingeverything he done, and bobbing their heads to show they under-stood, and stooping a little and resting their hands on their thighs towatch him mark the places on the ground with his cane; and then hestood up straight and stiff where Sherburn had stood, frowning andhaving his hat-brim down over his eyes, and sung out, Boggs! andthen fetched his cane down slow to a level, and says Bang! stag-gered backwards, says Bang! again, and fell down flat on his back.The people that had seen the thing said he done it perfect; said it wasjust exactly the way it all happened.Then as much as a dozen peoplegot out their bottles and treated him.Well, by and by somebody said Sherburn ought to be lynched.Inabout a minute everybody was saying it; so away they went, mad andyelling, and snatching down every clothes-line they come to to do thehanging with.147 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOThey swarmed up towards Sherburn s house, a-whooping andraging like Injuns, and everything had to clear the way or get runover and tromped to mush, and it was awful to see.Children washeeling it ahead of the mob, screaming and trying to get out of theway; and every window along the road was full of women s heads,and there was nigger boys in every tree, and bucks and wencheslooking over every fence; and as soon as the mob would get nearlyto them they would break and skaddle back out of reach.Lots ofthe women and girls was crying and taking on, scared most todeath.They swarmed up in front of Sherburn s palings as thick as theycould jam together, and you couldn t hear yourself think for thenoise.It was a little twenty-foot yard.Some sung out Tear down thefence! tear down the fence! Then there was a racket of ripping andtearing and smashing, and down she goes, and the front wall of thecrowd begins to roll in like a wave.Just then Sherburn steps out on to the roof of his little front porch,with a double-barrel gun in his hand, and takes his stand, perfectlyca m and deliberate, not saying a word.The racket stopped, and thewave sucked back.Sherburn never said a word just stood there, looking down.Thestillness was awful creepy and uncomfortable.Sherburn run his eyeslow along the crowd; and wherever it struck the people tried a littleto out-gaze him, but they couldn t; they dropped their eyes andlooked sneaky.Then pretty soon Sherburn sort of laughed; not the148 H U C K L E B E R R Y F I N Npleasant kind, but the kind that makes you feel like when you are eat-ing bread that s got sand in it.Then he says, slow and scornful: The idea of you lynching anybody! It s amusing.The idea of youthinking you had pluck enough to lynch a man! Because you re braveenough to tar and feather poor friendless cast-out women that comealong here, did that make you think you had grit enough to lay yourhands on a man? Why, a man s safe in the hands of ten thousand ofyour kind as long as it s daytime and you re not behind him. Do I know you? I know you clear through was born and raised inthe South, and I ve lived in the North; so I know the average allaround.The average man s a coward.In the North he lets anybodywalk over him that wants to, and goes home and prays for a humblespirit to bear it
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]