The Unexpected Page #7

"The Unexpected" is a short story by Jack London that explores themes of survival, human resilience, and the unpredictability of nature. Set against the backdrop of the wilderness, the narrative follows a group of men facing unforeseen challenges that test their limits and camaraderie. Through vivid descriptions and intense situations, London delves into the complexities of human instinct and the unexpected twists of fate that can change lives in an instant. The story reflects London's characteristic rugged individualism and profound understanding of the human spirit in the face of adversity.

								

trees. Here, circled solemnly about a barrel that stood on end in the
snow, were Negook and Hadikwan, and all the Siwashes down to the babies
and the dogs, come to see the way of the white man's law. Near by was
an open grave which Hans had burned into the frozen earth.

Dennin cast a practical eye over the preparations, noting the grave, the
barrel, the thickness of the rope, and the diameter of the limb over
which the rope was passed.

"Sure, an' I couldn't iv done better meself, Hans, if it'd been for
you."

He laughed loudly at his own sally, but Hans's face was frozen into
a sullen ghastliness that nothing less than the trump of doom could
have broken. Also, Hans was feeling very sick. He had not realized the
enormousness of the task of putting a fellow-man out of the world.
Edith, on the other hand, had realized; but the realization did not
make the task any easier. She was filled with doubt as to whether
she could hold herself together long enough to finish it. She felt
incessant impulses to scream, to shriek, to collapse into the snow, to
put her hands over her eyes and turn and run blindly away, into the
forest, anywhere, away. It was only by a supreme effort of soul that
she was able to keep upright and go on and do what she had to do. And
in the midst of it all she was grateful to Dennin for the way he helped
her.

"Lind me a hand," he said to Hans, with whose assistance he managed to
mount the barrel.

He bent over so that Edith could adjust the rope about his neck. Then
he stood upright while Hans drew the rope taut across the overhead
branch.

"Michael Dennin, have you anything to say?" Edith asked in a clear
voice that shook in spite of her.

Dennin shuffled his feet on the barrel, looked down bashfully like a
man making his maiden speech, and cleared his throat.

"I'm glad it's over with," he said. "You've treated me like a
Christian, an' I'm thankin' you hearty for your kindness."

"Then may God receive you, a repentant sinner," she said.

"Ay," he answered, his deep voice as a response to her thin one, "may
God receive me, a repentant sinner."

"Good-by, Michael," she cried, and her voice sounded desperate.

She threw her weight against the barrel, but it did not overturn.

"Hans! Quick! Help me!" she cried faintly.

She could feel her last strength going, and the barrel resisted her.
Hans hurried to her, and the barrel went out from under Michael Dennin.

She turned her back, thrusting her fingers into her ears. Then she
began to laugh, harshly, sharply, metallically; and Hans was shocked
as he had not been shocked through the whole tragedy. Edith Nelson's
break-down had come. Even in her hysteria she knew it, and she was glad
that she had been able to hold up under the strain until everything had
been accomplished. She reeled toward Hans.

"Take me to the cabin, Hans," she managed to articulate.

"And let me rest," she added. "Just let me rest, and rest, and rest."

With Hans's arm around her, supporting her weight and directing her
helpless steps, she went off across the snow. But the Indians remained
solemnly to watch the working of the white man's law that compelled a
man to dance upon the air.
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