"THE
SHOOTING OF DAN McGREW"
A
bunch of the boys were whooping it up
In
the Malamute saloon;
The
kid that handles the music-box
Was
hitting a jag-time tune;
Back
of the bar, in a solo game,
Sat
Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And
watching his luck was his light-o'-love,
The
lady that's known as Lou.
When
out of the night, which was fifty below,
And
into the din and the glare,
There
stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks,
Dog-dirty,
and loaded for bear.
He
looked like a man with a foot in the grave
And
scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet
he tilted a poke of dust on the bar,
And
he called for drinks for the house.
There
was none could place the stranger's face,
Though
we searched ourselves for a clue;
But
we drank his health, and the last to drink
Was
Dangerous Dan McGrew.
There's
men that somehow just grip your eyes,
And
hold them hard like a spell;
And
such was he, and he looked to me
Like
a man who had lived in hell;
With
a face most hair, and the dreary stare
Of
a dog whose day is done,
As
he watered the green stuff in his glass,
And
the drops fell one by one.
Then
I got to figgering who he was,
And
wondering what he'd do,
And
I turned my head -- and there watching him
Was
the lady that's known as Lou.
His
eyes went rubbering round the room,
And
he seemed in a kind of daze,
Till
at last that old piano fell
In
the way of his wandering gaze.
The
rag-time kid was having a drink;
There
was no one else on the stool,
So
the stranger stumbles across the room,
And
flops down there like a fool.
In
a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt
He
sat, and I saw him sway;
Then
he clutched the keys with his talon hands --
My
God! but that man could play.
Were
you ever out in the Great Alone,
When
the moon was awful clear,
And
the icy mountains hemmed you in
With
a silence you most could HEAR;
With
only the howl of a timber wolf,
And
you camped there in the cold,
A
half-dead thing in a stark, dead world,
Clean
mad for the muck called gold;
While
high overhead, green, yellow and red,
The
North Lights swept in bars? --
Then
you've a haunch what the music meant . . .
Hunger
and night and the stars.
And
hunger not of the belly kind,
That's
banished with bacon and beans,
But
the gnawing hunger of lonely men
For
a home and all that it means;
For
a fireside far from the cares that are,
Four
walls and a roof above;
But
oh! so cramful of cosy joy,
And
crowned with a woman's love --
A
woman dearer than all the world,
And
true as Heaven is true --
(God!
how ghastly she looks through her rouge, --
The
lady that's known as Lou.)
Then
on a sudden the music changed,
So
soft that you scarce could hear;
But
you felt that your life had been looted clean
Of
all that it once held dear;
That
someone had stolen the woman you loved;
That
her love was a devil's lie;
That
your guts were gone, and the best for you
Was
to crawl away and die.
'Twas
the crowning cry of a heart's despair,
And
it thrilled you through and through --
"I
guess I'll make it a spread misere,"
Said
Dangerous Dan McGrew.
The
music almost died away . . .
Then
it burst like a pent-up flood;
And
it seemed to say, "Repay, repay,"
And
my eyes were blind with blood.
The
thought came back of an ancient wrong,
And
it stung like a frozen lash,
And
the lust awoke to kill, to kill . . .
Then
the music stopped with a crash,
And
the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned
In
a most peculiar way;
In
a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt
He
sat, and I saw him sway;
Then
his lips went in in a kind of grin,
And
he spoke, and his voice was calm,
And
"Boys," says he, "you don't know me,
And
none of you care a damn;
But
I want to state, and my words are straight,
And
I'll bet my poke they're true,
That
one of you is a hound of hell . . .
and
that one is Dan McGrew."
Then
I ducked my head, and the lights went out,
And
two guns blazed in the dark,
And
a woman screamed, and the lights went up,
And
two men lay stiff and stark.
Pitched
on his head, and pumped full of lead,
Was
Dangerous Dan McGrew,
While
the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast
Of
the lady that's known as Lou.
These
are the simple facts of the case,
And
I guess I ought to know.
They
say that the stranger was crazed with "hooch",
And
I'm not denying it's so.
I'm
not so wise as the lawyer guys,
But
strictly between us two --
The
woman that kissed him and -- pinched his poke --
Was
the lady that's known as Lou.
Robert
William Service