第8章 Indian Camp 印第安人营地

At the lake shore there was another rowboat drawn up. The two Indians stood waiting.

Nick and his father got in the stern of the boat and the Indians shoved it off and one of them got in to row. Uncle George sat in the stern of the camp rowboat. The young Indian shoved the camp boat off and got in to row Uncle George.

The two boats started off in the dark. Nick heard the oarlocks of the other boat quite a way ahead of them in the mist. The Indians rowed with quick choppy strokes. Nick lay back with his father's arm around him. It was cold on the water. The Indian who was rowing them was working very hard, but the other boat moved farther ahead in the mist all the time.

“Where are we going, Dad?”Nick asked.

“Over to the Indian camp. There is an Indian lady very sick.”

“Oh,”said Nick.

Across the bay they found the other boat beached. Uncle George was smoking a cigar in the dark. The young Indian pulled the boat way up the beach. Uncle George gave both the Indians cigars.

They walked up from the beach through a meadow that was soaking wet with dew, following the young Indian who carried a lantern. Then they went into the woods and followed a trail that led to the logging road that ran back into the hills. It was much lighter on the logging road as the timber was cut away on both sides. The young Indian stopped and blew out his lantern and they all walked on along the road.

They came around a bend and a dog came out barking. Ahead were the lights of the shanties where the Indian barkpeelers lived. More dogs rushed out at them. The two Indians sent them back to the shanties. In the shanty nearest the road there was a light in the window. An old woman stood in the doorway holding a lamp.

Inside on a wooden bunk lay a young Indian woman. She had been trying to have her baby for two days. All the old women in the camp had been helping her. The men had moved off up the road to sit in the dark and smoke out of range of the noise she made. She screamed just as Nick and the two Indians followed his father and Uncle George into the shanty. She lay in the lower bunk, very big under a quilt. Her head was turned to one side. In the upper bunk was her husband. He had cut his foot very badly with an ax three days before. He was smoking a pipe. The room smelled very bad.

Nick's father ordered some water to be put on the stove, and while it was heating he spoke to Nick.

“This lady is going to have a baby, Nick,”he said.

“I know,”said Nick.

“You don't know,”said his father.“Listen to me. What she is going through is called being in labor. The baby wants to be born and she wants it to be born. All her muscles are trying to get the baby born. That is what is happening when she screams.”

“I see,”Nick said.

Just then the woman cried out.

“Oh Daddy, can't you give her something to make her stop screaming?”asked Nick.

“No. I haven't any anesthetic,”his father said.“But her screams are not important. I don't hear them because they are not important.”

The husband in the upper bunk rolled over against the wall.

The woman in the kitchen motioned to the doctor that the water was hot. Nick's father went into the kitchen and poured about half of the water out of the big kettle into a basin. Into the water left in the kettle he put several things he unwrapped from a handkerchief.

“Those must boil,”he said, and began to scrub his hands in the basin of hot water with a cake of soap he had brought from the camp. Nick watched his father's hands scrubbing each other with the soap. While his father washed his hands very carefully and thoroughly, he talked.

“You see, Nick, babies are supposed to be born head first but sometimes they're not. When they're not they make a lot of trouble for everybody. Maybe I'll have to operate on this lady. We'll know in a little while.”

When he was satisfied with his hands he went in and went to work.

“Pull back that quilt, will you, George?”he said.“I'd rather not touch it.”

Later when he started to operate Uncle George and three Indian men held the woman still. She bit Uncle George on the arm and Uncle George said,“Damn squaw bitch!”and the young Indian who had rowed Uncle George over laughed at him. Nick held the basin for his father. It all took a long time.

His father picked the baby up and slapped it to make it breathe and handed it to the old woman.

“See, it's a boy, Nick,”he said.“How do you like being an intern?”

Nick said,“All right.”He was looking away so as not to see what his father was doing.

“There. That gets it,”said his father and put something into the basin.

Nick didn't look at it.

“Now,”his father said,“there's some stitches to put in. You can watch this or not, Nick, just as you like. I'm going to sew up the incision I made.”

Nick did not watch. His curiosity had been gone for a long time.

His father finished and stood up. Uncle George and the three Indian men stood up. Nick put the basin out in the kitchen.

Uncle George looked at his arm. The young Indian smiled reminiscently.

“I'll put some peroxide on that, George,”the doctor said.

He bent over the Indian woman. She was quiet now and her eyes were closed. She looked very pale. She did not know what had become of the baby or anything.

“I'll be back in the morning,”the doctor said, standing up.“The nurse should be here from St. Ignace by noon and she'll bring everything we need.”

He was feeling exalted and talkative as football players are in the dressing room after a game.

“That's one for the medical journal, George,”he said.“Doing a Caesarian with a jackknife and sewing it up with nine-foot, tapered gut leaders.”

Uncle George was standing against the wall, looking at his arm.

“Oh, you're a great man, all right,”he said.

“Ought to have a look at the proud father. They're usually the worst sufferers in these little affairs,”the doctor said.“I must say he took it all pretty quietly.”

He pulled back the blanket from the Indian's head. His hand came away wet. He mounted on the edge of the lower bunk with the lamp in one hand and looked in. The Indian lay with his face toward the wall. His throat had been cut from ear to ear. The blood had flowed down into a pool where his body sagged the bunk. His head rested on his left arm. The open razor lay, edge up, in the blankets.

“Take Nick out of the shanty, George,”the doctor said.

There was no need of that. Nick standing in the door of the kitchen, had a good view of the upper bunk when his father, the lamp in one hand, tipped the Indian's head back.

It was just beginning to be daylight when they walked along the logging road back toward the lake.

“I'm terribly sorry I brought you along, Nickie,”said his father, all his postoperative exhilaration gone.“It was an awful mess to put you through.”

“Do ladies always have such a hard time having babies?”Nick asked.

“No, that was very, very exceptional.”

“Why did he kill himself, Daddy?”

“I don't know, Nick. He couldn't stand things, I guess.”

“Do many men kill themselves, Daddy?”

“Not very many, Nick.”

“Do many women?”

“Hardly ever.”

“Don't they ever?”

“Oh, yes. They do sometimes.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes.”

“Where did Uncle George go?”

“He'll turn up all right.”

“Is dying hard, Daddy?”

“No, I think it's pretty easy, Nick. It all depends.”

They were seated in the boat, Nick in the stern, his father rowing. The sun was coming up over the hills. A bass jumped, making a circle in the water. Nick trailed his hand in the water. It felt warm in the sharp chill of the morning.

In the early morning on the lake sitting in the stern of the boat with his father rowing, he felt quite sure that he would never die.

湖岸边又有一只船被拉了上来，两个印第安人站在那里等待着。

尼克和他的父亲走进船尾，两个印第安人把船推离湖岸，其中一个跳上去划船。乔治叔叔坐在另一只船的船尾。年轻的印第安人把营船推离湖岸，跳进去为乔治叔叔划船。

两只船在黑暗中出发了。在薄雾中，尼克听到他们前面相当远的地方传来另一只船的桨架的响声。两个印第安人飞快地划动着，波浪起伏。尼克躺下了，他父亲用胳膊抱着他。湖面上很冷。那个给他们划船的印第安人拼命划着，但另一只船在薄雾中始终远远地划在前面。

“我们要去哪里，爸爸？”尼克问。

“到印第安人营地去，有一位印第安女人病得很重。”

“噢。”尼克说。

海湾对岸，他们发现另一只船已经靠岸。乔治叔叔正在黑暗中抽着雪茄。年轻的印第安人把船停靠在海滩上。乔治叔叔给两个印第安人都递了雪茄。

他们从海滩走上去，穿过一块露水打湿的草地，跟在那个提灯的年轻的印第安人后面。随后，他们走进树林，顺着一条小路走去。小路通向迂回进入小山的伐木大道。因为两边的树木都被砍掉，所以这段伐木大道上看起来明亮得多。年轻的印第安人停下脚步，吹灭提灯，他们沿着伐木大道向前走。

他们绕过了一道弯，一只狗吠叫着跑出来。前面那些剥树皮的印第安人住的棚屋透出了灯光，又有几只狗朝他们扑过来，两个印第安人把它们赶回棚屋，最靠近大路的棚屋窗口透出了灯光，一位老太太举着灯站在门口。

屋里木板床上躺着一位年轻的印第安妇女。她一直在生孩子，都两天了，还生不出来。营地里所有的老太太都一直在帮助她。男人们都走到了大路上，走到听不见她叫喊的地方，坐在黑暗中抽烟。正当尼克和两个印第安人跟着他的父亲和乔治叔叔走进棚屋时，她尖声叫喊着。她躺在下铺，盖着被子，肚子高高鼓起，头转向一侧。上铺是她的丈夫。三天前，他用斧头把一只脚砍成了重伤，他正在抽烟，屋里烟味很重。

尼克的父亲吩咐人在炉子上放一些水，烧水时他对尼克说起了话。

“这位女士要生孩子了，尼克。”他说。

“我知道。”尼克说。

“你不知道，”他的父亲说，“听我说。她正在经受的被称为阵痛。宝宝想出生，她也想让宝宝出生。她所有的肌肉都在尽力把宝宝生下来。她尖声叫喊就是这么回事。”

“我明白了。”尼克说。

正在这时，女人又大声叫喊起来。

“噢，爸爸，你不能给她点什么，让她停止尖叫吗？”尼克问。

“不能。我没有带麻药，”他的父亲说，“不过，她尖叫不要紧。我听不见，因为这不要紧。”

躺在上铺的丈夫翻身贴住墙壁。

厨房里那个女人向医生打了个手势，说水热了。尼克的父亲走进厨房，把大壶里的水向盆里倒了大约一半。他解开一只手帕，把好几样东西放进壶里剩下的水里。

“那些东西必须烧开。”说着，他开始用从营里拿来的一块肥皂在一盆热水里洗净双手。尼克望着父亲的双手用肥皂互相擦洗。他的父亲一边小心翼翼彻底洗净双手，一边说话。

“尼克，你明白，宝宝出生时应该是头先出来，但有时不是这样。如果不是头先出来，那就会给大家制造好多麻烦。也许我不得不给这位女士动手术，过一小会儿，我们就会知道。”

当医生对自己的一双手没有疑问时，就走进去准备接生。

“你掀开被子好吗，乔治？”他说。“我还是不碰它为好。”

稍后，当他开始手术时，乔治叔叔和三个印第安男人按住产妇。她咬住乔治叔叔的胳膊，乔治叔叔说：“该死的女人！”那个给乔治叔叔划过船的年轻印第安人冲他笑。尼克为父亲端着盆。这整个过程花费了很长时间。

他的父亲拎起宝宝，拍了拍，让宝宝透过气来，然后递给那位老太太。

“看到了吧，是一个男孩，尼克，”他说，“作为一名实习医生，你觉得怎么样？”

尼克说：“还好吧。”他把脸转过去，免得看见父亲在干什么。

“好了，这就行了。”说着，他的父亲把什么东西放进了盆里。

尼克没有看。

“现在，”他的父亲说，“要缝几针。看不看随你，尼克。我要缝上切开的口子了。”

尼克没有看。他的好奇心早就没有了。

他的父亲做完手术，站了起来。乔治叔叔和三个印第安男人也站了起来。尼克把盆端进了厨房。

乔治叔叔看看自己的胳膊。那个年轻的印第安人回忆刚才的场景，微微一笑。

“乔治，我要在那上面放一些过氧化物。”医生说。

他弯腰去看印第安产妇。她现在平静下来，眼睛闭合，脸色惨白。她不知道宝宝怎么样。

“我早上就回去，”医生站起来说，“中午时分，护士会从圣伊格纳茨赶来，我们需要什么，她就会带来什么。”

他情绪高昂，非常健谈，就像比赛一场后在更衣室的足球运动员那样。

“乔治，这个手术应该能上医学杂志了，”他说，“用折叠刀做剖腹产手术，并用九英尺长的细肠线做缝合。”

乔治叔靠墙站在那里，看着自己的胳膊。

“噢，你确实了不起。”他说。

“该看一看那位扬眉吐气的父亲了。他们常常在这些小事上最痛苦。”医生说。“我必须说他对所有这一切都镇定自若。”

他掀起那个印第安人头上的毯子。他的手抽开时湿漉漉的。他蹬上下铺的床沿，一只手提灯，向上铺看。那个印第安人面朝墙躺在那里，喉咙被整齐地割开了。鲜血已经流成了一摊，他的尸体凹陷在血泊里，他的头枕在左臂上。剃刀打开，刀刃朝上，落在毯子里。

“乔治，把尼克带出棚屋。”医生说。

根本不必这样做了。尼克正站在厨房门口，把上铺看得一清二楚，当时他的父亲一手提灯，另一只手推回那个印第安人的脑袋。

他们沿着伐木大道走回湖畔时，天刚开始放亮。

“尼基，我带你来，真对不起……”他的父亲说，他做完手术后所有的兴奋劲儿都烟消云散。“让你经受这一切真是糟透了。”

“女士们生孩子总是这样艰难吗？”尼克问。

“不是，这是非常少见的例外。”

“他为什么自杀，爸爸？”

“我不知道，尼克。我猜，他可能是对一些事儿受不了了吧。”

“许多男人都自杀吗，爸爸？”

“不是很多，尼克。”

“许多女人都自杀吗？”

“几乎从来没有。”

“她们从来没有？”

“噢，不是，她们有时也会。”

“爸爸？”

“唉。”

“乔治叔叔去了哪里？”

“他肯定会来的。”

“死很难吗，爸爸？”

“不难，我想死相当容易，尼克。这要看情况而定。”

他们上船坐下，尼克坐在船尾，他的父亲在划船。太阳正从山那边冉冉升起。一条鲈鱼跃起，在水里漾出一个圆圈。尼克把手伸进水里，让一只手顺水划行。在刺骨寒冷的清晨，水里感觉很温暖。

清晨，在湖面上，尼克坐在船尾，他的父亲划着船，他确信自己永远不会死。