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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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- Стр. 70/241
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He
saw
the
two
gangs
,
aggressive
and
sullen
,
rigidly
keeping
apart
from
each
other
and
backing
their
respective
champions
;
and
he
saw
himself
and
Cheese
-
Face
stripping
.
A
short
distance
away
lookouts
were
set
,
their
task
being
to
watch
the
lighted
ends
of
the
bridge
.
A
member
of
the
Boo
Gang
held
Martin
’
s
coat
,
and
shirt
,
and
cap
,
ready
to
race
with
them
into
safety
in
case
the
police
interfered
.
Martin
watched
himself
go
into
the
centre
,
facing
Cheese
-
Face
,
and
he
heard
himself
say
,
as
he
held
up
his
hand
warningly
:
-
"
They
ain
’
t
no
hand
-
shakin
’
in
this
.
Understand
?
They
ain
’
t
nothin
’
but
scrap
.
No
throwin
’
up
the
sponge
.
This
is
a
grudge
-
fight
an
’
it
’
s
to
a
finish
.
Understand
?
Somebody
’
s
goin
’
to
get
licked
.
"
Cheese
-
Face
wanted
to
demur
,
—
Martin
could
see
that
,
—
but
Cheese
-
Face
’
s
old
perilous
pride
was
touched
before
the
two
gangs
.
"
Aw
,
come
on
,
"
he
replied
.
"
Wot
’
s
the
good
of
chewin
’
de
rag
about
it
?
I
’
m
wit
’
cheh
to
de
finish
.
"
Then
they
fell
upon
each
other
,
like
young
bulls
,
in
all
the
glory
of
youth
,
with
naked
fists
,
with
hatred
,
with
desire
to
hurt
,
to
maim
,
to
destroy
.
All
the
painful
,
thousand
years
’
gains
of
man
in
his
upward
climb
through
creation
were
lost
.
Only
the
electric
light
remained
,
a
milestone
on
the
path
of
the
great
human
adventure
.
Martin
and
Cheese
-
Face
were
two
savages
,
of
the
stone
age
,
of
the
squatting
place
and
the
tree
refuge
.
They
sank
lower
and
lower
into
the
muddy
abyss
,
back
into
the
dregs
of
the
raw
beginnings
of
life
,
striving
blindly
and
chemically
,
as
atoms
strive
,
as
the
star
-
dust
of
the
heavens
strives
,
colliding
,
recoiling
,
and
colliding
again
and
eternally
again
.
"
God
!
We
are
animals
!
Brute
-
beasts
!
"
Martin
muttered
aloud
,
as
he
watched
the
progress
of
the
fight
.
It
was
to
him
,
with
his
splendid
power
of
vision
,
like
gazing
into
a
kinetoscope
.
He
was
both
onlooker
and
participant
.
His
long
months
of
culture
and
refinement
shuddered
at
the
sight
;
then
the
present
was
blotted
out
of
his
consciousness
and
the
ghosts
of
the
past
possessed
him
,
and
he
was
Martin
Eden
,
just
returned
from
sea
and
fighting
Cheese
-
Face
on
the
Eighth
Street
Bridge
.
He
suffered
and
toiled
and
sweated
and
bled
,
and
exulted
when
his
naked
knuckles
smashed
home
.
They
were
twin
whirlwinds
of
hatred
,
revolving
about
each
other
monstrously
.
The
time
passed
,
and
the
two
hostile
gangs
became
very
quiet
.
They
had
never
witnessed
such
intensity
of
ferocity
,
and
they
were
awed
by
it
.
The
two
fighters
were
greater
brutes
than
they
.
The
first
splendid
velvet
edge
of
youth
and
condition
wore
off
,
and
they
fought
more
cautiously
and
deliberately
.
There
had
been
no
advantage
gained
either
way
.
"
It
’
s
anybody
’
s
fight
,
"
Martin
heard
some
one
saying
.
Then
he
followed
up
a
feint
,
right
and
left
,
was
fiercely
countered
,
and
felt
his
cheek
laid
open
to
the
bone
.
No
bare
knuckle
had
done
that
.
He
heard
mutters
of
amazement
at
the
ghastly
damage
wrought
,
and
was
drenched
with
his
own
blood
.
But
he
gave
no
sign
.
He
became
immensely
wary
,
for
he
was
wise
with
knowledge
of
the
low
cunning
and
foul
vileness
of
his
kind
.
He
watched
and
waited
,
until
he
feigned
a
wild
rush
,
which
he
stopped
midway
,
for
he
had
seen
the
glint
of
metal
.
"
Hold
up
yer
hand
!
"
he
screamed
.
"
Them
’
s
brass
knuckles
,
an
’
you
hit
me
with
’
em
!
"
