greyfriars bobby-第13部分

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Immediately　the　little　dog　was　lost　in　an　unexplored　country。　The　narrow　glen　was　musical　with　springs；　and　the　low　growth　was　undercut　with　a　maze　of　rabbit　runs；　very　distracting　to　a　dog　of　a　hunting　breed。　Bobby　knew；　by　much　journeying　with　Auld　Jock；　that　running　water　is　a　natural　highway。　Sheep　drift　along　the　lowest　level　until　they　find　an　outlet　down　some　declivity；　or　up　some　foaming　steep；　to　new　pastures。

But　never　before　had　Bobby　found；　above　such　a　rustic　brook；　a　many　chimneyed　and　gabled　house　of　stone；　set　in　a　walled　garden　and　swathed　in　trees。　Today；　many　would　cross　wide　seas　to　look　upon　Swanston　cottage；　in　whose　odorous　old　garden　a　whey…faced；　wistful…eyed　laddie　dreamed　so　many　brave　and　laughing　dreams。　It　was　only　a　farm…house　then；　fallen　from　a　more　romantic　history；　and　it　had　no　attraction　for　Bobby。　He　merely　sniffed　at　dead　vines　of　clematis；　sleeping　briar　bushes；　and　very　live；　bright　hedges　of　holly；　rounded　a　corner　of　its　wall；　and　ran　into　a　group　of　lusty　children　romping　on　the　brae；　below　the　very　prettiest；　thatch　roofed　and　hill…sheltered　hamlet　within　many　a　mile　of　Edinboro'　town。　The　bairns　were　lunching　from　grimy；　mittened　hands；　gypsy　fashion；　life　being　far　too　short　and　playtime　too　brief　for　formal　meals。　Seeing　them　eating；　Bobby　suddenly　discovered　that　he　was　hungry。　He　rose　before　a　well…provided　laddie　and　politely　begged　for　a　share　of　his　meal。

Such　an　excited　shouting　of　admiration　and　calling　on　mithers　to　come　and　see　the　bonny　wee　dog　was　never　before　heard　on　Swanston　village　green。　Doors　flew　open　and　bareheaded　women　ran　out。　Then　the　babies　had　to　be　brought；　and　the'　old　grandfaithers　and　grandmithers。　Everybody　oh…ed　and　ah…ed　and　clapped　hands；　and　doubled　up　with　laughter；　for；　a　tempting　bit　held　playfully　just　out　of　reach；　Bobby　rose；　again　and　again；　jumped　for　it；　and　chased　a　teasing　laddie。　Then　he　bethought　him　to　roll　over　and　over；　and　to　go　through　other　winsome　little　tricks；　as　Auld　Jock　had　taught　him　to　do；　to　win　the　reward。　All　this　had　one　quite　unexpected　result。　A　shrewd…eyed　woman　pounced　upon　Bobby　and　captured　him。

〃He's　no'　an　ordinar'　dog。　Some　leddy　has　lost　her　pet。　I'll　juist　shut　'im　up；　an'　syne　she'll　pay　a　shullin'　or　twa　to　get　'im　again。〃

With　a　twist　and　a　leap　Bobby　was　gone。　He　scrambled　straight　up　the　steep；　thorn…clad　wall　of　the　glen；　where　no　laddie　could　follow；　and　was　over　the　crest。　It　was　a　narrow　escape；　made　by　terrific　effort。　His　little　heart　pounding　with　exhaustion　and　alarm；　he　hid　under　a　whin　bush　to　get　his　breath　and　strength。　The　sheltered　dell　was　windless；　but　here　a　stiff　breeze　blew。　Suddenly　shifting　a　point；　the　wind　brought　to　the　little　dog's　nose　a　whiff　of　the　acrid　coal　smoke　of　Edinburgh　three　miles　away。

Straight　as　an　arrow　he　ran　across　country；　over　roadway　and　wall；　plowed　fields　and　rippling　burns。　He　scrambled　under　hedges　and　dashed　across　farmsteads　and　cottage　gardens。　As　he　neared　the　city　the　hour　bells　aided　him；　for　the　Skye　terrier　is　keen　of　hearing。　It　was　growing　dark　when　he　climbed　up　the　last　bank　and　gained　Lauriston　Place。　There　he　picked　up　the　odors　of　milk　and　wool；　and　the　damp　smell　of　the　kirkyard。

Now　for　something　comforting　to　put　into　his　famished　little　body。　A　night　and　a　day　of　exhausting　work；　of　anxiety　and　grief；　had　used　up　the　last　ounce　of　fuel。　Bobby　raced　down　Forest　Road　and　turned　the　slight　angle　into　Greyfriars　Place。　The　lamp　lighter's　progress　toward　the　bridge　was　marked　by　the　double　row　of　lamps　that　bloomed；　one　after　one；　on　the　dusk。　The　little　dog　had　come　to　the　steps　of　Mr。　Traill's　place；　and　lifted　himself　to　scratch　on　the　door；　when　the　bugle　began　to　blow。　He　dropped　with　the　first　note　and　dashed　to　the　kirkyard　gate。

None　too　soon！　Mr。　Brown　was　setting　the　little　wicket　gate　inside；　against　the　wall。　In　the　instant　his　back　was　turned；　Bobby　slipped　through。　After　nightfall；　when　the　caretaker　had　made　his　rounds；　he　came　out　from　under　the　fallen　table…tomb　of　Mistress　Jean　Grant。

Lights　appeared　at　the　rear　windows　of　the　tenements；　and　families　sat　at　supper。　It　was　snell　weather　again；　the　sky　dark　with　threat　of　snow；　and　the　windows　were　all　closed。　But　with　a　sharp　bark　beneath　the　lowest　of　them　Bobby　could　have　made　his　presence　and　his　wants　known。　He　watched　the　people　eating；　sitting　wistfully　about　on　his　haunches　here　and　there；　but　remaining　silent。　By　and　by　there　were　sounds　of　crying　babies；　of　crockery　being　washed；　and　the　ringing　of　church　bells　far　and　near。　Then　the　lights　were　extinguished；　and　huge　bulks　of　shadow；　of　tenements　and　kirk；　engulfed　the　kirkyard。

When　Bobby　lay　down　on　Auld　Jock's　grave；　pellets　of　frozen　snow　were　falling　and　the　air　had　hardened　toward　frost。



VI。

Sleep　alone　goes　far　to　revive　a　little　dog；　and　fasting　sharpens　the　wits。　Bobby　was　so　tired　that　he　slept　soundly；　but　so　hungry　that　he　woke　early；　and　instantly　alert　to　his　situation。　It　was　so　very　early　of　a　dark　winter　morning　that　not　even　the　sparrows　were　out　foraging　in　the　kirkyard　for　dry　seeds。　The　drum　and　bugle　had　not　been　sounded　from　the　Castle　when　the　milk　and　dustman's　carts　began　to　clatter　over　the　frozen　streets。　With　the　first　hint　of　dawn　stout　fishwives；　who　had　tramped　all　the　way　in　from　the　piers　of　Newhaven　with　heavily　laden　creels　on　their　heads；　were　lustily　crying　their　〃caller　herrin'。〃　Soon　fagot　men　began　to　call　up　the　courts　of　tenements；　where　fuel　was　bought　by　the　scant　bundle：　〃Are　ye　cauld？〃

Many　a　human　waif　in　the　tall　buildings　about　the　lower　end　of　Greyfriars　kirkyard　was　cold；　even　in　bed；　but；　in　his　thick　underjacket　of　fleece；　Bobby　was　as　warm　as　a　plate　of　breakfast　toast。　With　a　vigorous　shaking　he　broke　and　scattered　the　crust　of　snow　that　burdened　his　shaggy　thatch。　Then　he　lay　down　on　the　grave　again；　with　his　nose　on　his　paws。　Urgent　matters　occupied　the　little　dog's　mind。　To　deal　with　these　affairs　he　had　the　long　head　of　the　canniest　Scot；　wide　and　high　between。　the　ears；　and　a　muzzle　as　determined　as　a　little　steel　trap。　Small　and　forlorn　as　he　was；　courage；　resource　and　purpose　marked　him。

As　soon　as　the　door　of　the　caretaker's　lodge　opened　he　would　have　to　creep　under　the　fallen　slab　again。　To　lie　in　such　a　cramped　position；　hour　after　hour；　day　after　day；　was　enough　to　break　the　spirit　of　any　warm　blooded　creature　that　lives。　It　was　an　exquisite　form　of　torture　not　long　to　be　endured。　And　to　get　his　single　meal　a　day　at　Mr。　Traill's　place　Bobby　had　to　watch　for　the　chance　opening　of　the　wicket　to　slip　in　and　out　like　a　thief。　The　furtive　life　is　not　only　perilous；　it　outrages　every　feeling　of　an　honest　dog。　It　is　hard　for　him　to　live　at　all　without　the　approval　and　the　cordial　consent　of　men。　The　human　order　hostile；　he　quickly　loses　his　self…respect　and　drops　to　the　pariah　class。　Already　wee　Bobby　had　the　look　of　the　neglected。　His　pretty　coat　was　dirty　and　unkempt。　In　his　run　across　country；　leaves；　twigs　and　burrs　had　become　entangled　in　his　long　hair；　and　his　legs　and　underparts　were　caked　with　mire。

Instinctively　any　dog　struggles　to　escape　the　fate　of　the　outcast。　By　every　art　he　possesses　he　ingratiates　himself　with　men。　One　that　has　his　usefulness　in　the　human　scheme　of　things　often　is　able　to　make　his　own　terms　with　life；　to　win　the　niche　of　his　choice。　Bobby's　one　talent　that　was　of　practical　value　to　society　was　his　hunting　instinct　for　every　small　animal　that　burrows　and　prowls　and　takes　toll　of　men's　labor。　In　Greyfriars　kirkyard　was　work　to　be　done　that　he　could　do。　For　quite　three　centuries　rats　and　mice　had　multiplied　in　this　old　sanctuary　garden　from　which　cats　were　chased　and　dogs　excluded。　Every　breeze　that　blew　carried　challenges　to　Bobby's　offended　nose。　Now；　in　the　crisp　gray　dawn；　a　big　rat　came　out　into　the　open　and　darted　here　and　there　over　the　powdering　of　dry　snow　that　frosted　the　kirkyard。

A　leap；　as　if　released　from　a　spring；　and　Bobby　captured　it。　A　snap　of　his　long　muzzle；　a　jerk　of　his　stoutly　set　head；　and　the　victim　hung　limp　from　his　grip。　And　he　followed　another　deeply　seated　instinct　when　he　carried　the　slain　to　Auld　Jock's　grave。　Trophies　of　the　chase　were　always　to　be　laid　at　the　feet　of　the　master。

〃Gude　dog！　eh；　but　ye're　a　bonny　wee　fechter！〃　Auld　Jock　had　always　said　after　such　an　exploit；　and　Bobby　had　been　petted　and　praised　until　he　nearly　wagged　his　crested　tail　off　with　happiness　and　pride。　Then　he　had　been　given　some　choice　tidbit　of　food　as　a　reward　for　his　prowess。　The　farmer　of　Cauldbrae　had　on　such　occasions　admitted　that　Bobby　might　be　of　use　about　barn　and　dairy；　and　Mr。　Traill　had　commended　his　capture　of　prowlers　in　the　dining…room。　But　Bobby　was　〃ower　young〃　and　had　not　been　〃put　to　the　vermin〃　as　a　definite　business　in　life。　He　caught　a　rat；　now　and　then；　as　he　chased　rabbits；　merely　as　a　diversion。　When　he　had　caught　this　one　he　lay　down　again。　But　after　a　time　he　got　up　deliberately　and　trotted　down　to　the　encircling　line　of　old　courtyarded　tombs。　There　were　nooks　and　crannies　between　and　behind　these　along　the　wall　into　which　the　caretaker　could　not　penetrate　with　sickle；　rake　and　spade；　that　formed　sheltered　runways　for　rodents。

A　long；　low；　weasel…like　dog　that　could　flatten　himself　on　the　ground；　Bobby　squeezed　between　railings　and　pedestals；　scrambled　over　fallen　fragments　of　sculptured　urns；　trumpets；　angels'　wings；　altars；　skull　and　cross…bones；　and　Latin　inscribed　scrolls。　He　went　on　his　stomach　under　holly　and　laurel　shrubs；　burdocks；thistles；　and　tangled；　dead　vines。　Here　and　there　he　lay　in　such　rubbish　as　motionless　as　the　effigies　careen　on　marble　biers。　With　the　growing　light　grew　the　heap　of　the　slain　on　Auld　Jock's　grave。

Having　done　his　best；　Bobby　lay　down　again；　worse　in　appearance　than　before；　but　with　a　stouter　heart。　He　did　not　stir；　although　the　shadows　fled；　the　sepulchers　stood　up　around　the　field　of　snow；　and　slabs　and　shafts　camped　in　ranks　on　the　slope。　Smoke　began　to　curl　up　from　high；　clustered　chimney…pots；　shutters　were　opened；　and　scantily　clad　women　had　hurried　errands　on　decaying　gallery　and　reeling　stairway。　Suddenly　the　Castle　turrets　were　gilded　with　pale　sunshine；　and　all　the　little　cells　in　the　tall；　old　h