Knutsford

“ Knutsford is a market town and parish in the hundred of Bucklow; it has a population of 2,823; An. As. Val. £5,051. Its market is held on Saturday: fairs. Whit-Tuesday. July 10, and November 8, for cattle and drapery. The principal manufactures carried on here are those of tanned leather, sewing thread, &c. The church is dedicated to St. John; the living is a vicarage, in the archdeaconry and diocese of Chester, endowed by the Crown with £400; and £16 per annum by a private benefaction ”

“ Cranford is identified as the town of Knutsford. Its population consists of widows and maiden ladies, in bonds to their ancient gentility. With deft touch Mrs. Gaskell brings out the humor and pathos of these quaint characters, her finest creation being Miss Matty Jenkyns.
OUR SOCIETY From 'Cranford'
In the first place, Cranford is in possession of the Amazons; all the holders of houses, above a certain rent, are women. If a married couple come to settle in the town, somehow the gentleman disappears ”

“ In candor (for candor is due even to a skeleton) it ought to be mentioned that the charge, if it amounted to so much, arose with a lady from some part of Cheshire—the district of Knutsford, I believe;—but, wherever it was, in the same district, during the latter part of his career, had resided our X. At first he was not suspected even as a robber—as yet not so much as suspected of being suspicious; in a simple rustic neighborhood, amongst good-natured peasants, for a long time he was regarded with simple curiosity, rather than suspicion ”

“ Knutsen knew this north country. He knew of what it was capable,—the queer, uncanny quirks that it put in the souls of men. Doomsdorf, incredible to Ned and Bess, was wholly plausible to him. He feared him to the depths of his heart, yet in some measure, at least, these three were in his charge, and if worst came to worst, he must stand between them and this island devil with his own life. He had stayed on the shore after the others had gone so that he might find out the truth. ”

“ You are the one that's damned. And you fool, you don't know the words that are written over the gates of the hell you've come to—'Abandon hope, ye who enter here!' You and your crowd will never leave this island till you die!”
Knutsen's hand moved toward his hip. In the days of the gun fights, in the old North, it had never moved more swiftly. In this second of need he had remembered his pistol.
But he remembered it too late. And his hand, though fast, was infinitely slow. The great arm that lay across Doomsdorf's breast suddenly flashed out and up. ”

“ THE public has never solved the mystery of John Knuteson's fall. Few lawyers in our city ever attained the reputation for integrity and ability that Knuteson enjoyed during his career at the bar. To this day, few people know why or how he destroyed at one blow his whole life fabric and the future before him. ”

“ The craft seemed to leap in the water, shuddered like a living thing, and the swath of the searchlight described a long arc into the sleet and the storm. It may have been that Knutsen shouted again—a meaningless sound that was lost quickly in the wind—but for seconds that seemed to drag into interminable centuries he sat absolutely without outward sign of motion. His great hands clutched his wheel, the muscles were set and bunched, but it was as if the man had died and was frozen rigid in an instant of incredible tension. ”

“ As Knutty said, it was refreshing to know that there was at least one cheerful person amongst those solemn one hundred and twenty guests! Knutty herself rose to the occasion with characteristic readiness. She ate nobly without intermission, as though she had been attending Norwegian peasant-funerals all her life; and she gave a mischievous wink to Gerda and Katharine every time Bedstemor rose from her seat and strode [309] masterfully to the table in search of further fodder. No one offered any courtesy to any one else. It seemed to be the custom that each person should look after herself ”

“ One by one the cave-men retired to Castillo’s yawning entrance and curled up in their hide-wrappings to secure their night’s rest. All were gone but two—the boy and Gonch.
“You who perform one task so well, can bear another,” the Muskman sneered. “Watch the fire, and watch it well until the light returns. Do not fall asleep or it will be the worse for you.”
These were Gonch’s parting instructions and then he too lay down in the cave-entrance. Kutnar smiled bitterly. Another task was now added to his already overburdened shoulders; one that no man dared neglect. ”

“ There was much sympathy for Knut in the little assembly, and "Poor fellow! poor fellow!" had been murmured by more than one listener as he went on.
"See out of the back of his head!" continued Knut, "or in his spectacles, as he says! Likely! Better try him," he boldly concluded.
"A good suggestion," said the magistrate.
The court-room seemed suddenly changed into a playroom for grown people. Pelle was placed on a chair, now here and now there, while different people were placed behind him, and he was called on to say who was leaning towards his shoulder. ”

“ Fortunately the average man Knutsen hires for his crew doesn't know Charon from Adam. Seamen, my boy, are the most superstitious crowd on earth. No one can follow the sea and not be superstitious—don't ask me why. It gets to them, some way, inside.”
“Sorry I can't stay to hear a lecture on the subject.” Ned turned toward the door. “Now for Mr. Knutsen.”
Ned drove to the designated address, found the owner of the craft, and executed a charter after ten minutes of conversation. Knutsen was a big, good-natured man with a goodly share of Norse blood that had paled his eyes and hair. ”

“ The human derrick was strained almost to the breaking point and still it continued to propel itself skyward. Not until Kutnar reached an unusually deep shelf which gave him more than standing room, did he pause even for a moment; then he halted and looked up. The Muskman stood waiting above him. Kutnar could see his open red mouth and white teeth. Gonch’s face wore an expression of cruel [214] eagerness such as a panther wears when about to spring from the tree branches upon a fawn passing beneath. ”

“ Kutnar braced his legs, secured a firm foothold and whirled his sling. Gonch trembled. He could almost feel the pebble striking his skull with deadly precision. He faltered, tossed the stone wildly and fled in a panic up the wall behind him. The boy dodged the stone as it fell but now the Muskman was beyond effective throwing range and so Kutnar ceased whirling his sling and followed after. “The traitor must die,” repeated itself over and over in his mind and drove out all thought of himself, a stripling pitted against a full-grown man. ”

“ When the snow melts, we will be on our way again.” Kutnar forced himself to be content with this. He was but a boy who respected men and revered his friends. Gonch was his man-friend and it never occurred to him that the Muskman was playing him false; and so he did his part, which was no small task for now that his skill was known, he did more than half the hunting for the whole band. In addition to his skill with the sling, he possessed no mean knowledge of woodcraft, showing his companions many things about tracking and trapping game that they knew nothing of. ”

“ And so the storm-clouds lifted temporarily, giving Gonch a chance to keep his hide on him and him in it. He sought Kutnar and said, “Those who do nothing, shall eat nothing. You idle too much. Now is the time for you to hammer and finish the fine flint weapons. You know how the work is done. We must have blades. Make them.”
And so more was required of him. Kutnar’s eyes glittered as he answered, “But there is no flint here. Blades cannot be made from nothing. Find me flint-lumps if you must have the tools.”
“Find them yourself,” snapped the Muskman irritated by the boy’s reply. ”

“ A chorus of astonished grunts arose. Kutnar [135] heard the sound of bare feet scraping on the ledge behind him. He looked around and saw the giant hetman.
“Well done,” growled the Castillan leader. “Even though it were a lucky stroke, a boy who can use a toy like that must be good for something. And yet you are but a child. The Mammoth Man is not a child.” As he said this, he scowled at Gonch who was standing near. The latter made haste to divert his chieftain’s mind.
“The boy is a skilled hunter,” he explained. “He can kill food enough for a dozen men. If you do not believe, try him.” ”

“ Kutnar was deadly calm. His thoughts surging one upon another were those of a sane and sober mind. But with all his illusions shattered, the child was become a man. He now knew that all of the southland wonders were the Muskman’s lies. There were no fine flints, no weapon-making; the men might have been wolves except for their human forms which however made their wretchedness and cannibalism even more beast-like in his eyes. So low had they fallen that they must needs depend upon himself, a mere boy, to feed them ”

“ Kutnar’s nostrils had caught the offensive beast odor. He detached himself from the other’s arms and turned away his head.
“Is my best friend offended by the smell of my panther and hyena killing?” Gonch asked in a hurt voice. “Perhaps I did but a poor service when once I saved you from death.”
On being thus reminded of his debt, Kutnar experienced a wave of remorse. He clung tightly to his friend and buried his face in his chest. “Agh, you did well,” he whispered earnestly. “What you have done for me makes the odor sweet. I will not have you leave me alone. We will go together.” ”

“ Thus cautioned, the Castillan tyro selected his best stone and placed it carefully in the cleft end of his fling-stick. Kutnar did not hesitate, even though this was his first test in single combat. In a moment he saw what was expected of him. Quick as lightning, he unwound the thong from his waist and set a pebble in place.
“Good,” muttered Gonch between his clenched teeth. “The boy bears himself like a true warrior. I would be his friend if I could be anyone’s. No man, young or old, lives who can best him at his own game.” ”

“ For all Knutsen’s prowess, for all that he was so obviously a man of his hands, Ned couldn’t see any possibility of sustaining life on one of the barren, wind-swept deserts for more than a few days at most. They had no guns to procure meat from the wild: their little stores of food would not last long. The cold itself, though not now severe, would likely master them quickly. Even if they could find fuel, they had no axe to cut it up for a fire. In all probability, they couldn’t even build a fire in the snow and the sleet. ”

“ Kutnar, however, seemed to enjoy special privileges. He was a strong, active lad, but a boy nevertheless and Gonch marvelled that men would tolerate his taking part in their affairs. It must be that as son of the master flint-worker, he was an extraordinarily privileged youth. Then, too, he went about unarmed; so it appeared, for he bore nothing but his pouch of pebbles and the rawhide thong wound about his waist. The hunters were walking across the meadow when a hare sprang up beneath their feet, bounded away several rods and then sat bolt upright. ”

“ As a last resort, he could lower his body into the tube, set the stone above his head and hide as long as he pleased in the vault beneath.
He was preparing to lie down upon the floor of [174] the grotto when he heard something that brought him to his feet in quick time. He tiptoed to the threshold and saw a dark figure ascending the slope. The figure was coming toward him. It moved in an erect position but it seemed too large and clumsy to be a man. It came nearer and although but an ebon patch on a sable background, Kutnar recognized it as a bear and a large one. ”

“ The man was still alive although badly mauled. “Friends should ever help each other,” ran through Kutnar’s brain as he bent over the unfortunate and wiped the blood from his face with a bunch of leaves. Not that the man was his particular friend, but his heart was filled with pity at sight of a fellow-being in distress. Suddenly he was dragged to his feet and thrust roughly aside. He turned and faced Gonch.
“Stand back, boy; do not meddle,” cried the Muskman and then before Kutnar knew what his friend was about, the latter despatched the wounded man with a blow of his ax. ”

“ Gonch ran across the ledge and looked over. The two human figures were rapidly descending the cliffs, lowering their bodies from rock to rock by the combined use of their supple hands and feet. Kutnar was as agile and sure-footed as a chamois and Pic was not far behind him. So swift was their descent, that it seemed only a moment before they had reached the bottom and were dashing up the valley.
Gonch suddenly uttered an astonished yell. He rubbed the moisture from his eyes to make sure he saw what he thought he saw. Man and boy were charging upon the beasts at top speed. ”

“ Hackford a stinging blow with the late lamented.
He continued to strike until Marshall, with a shriek of horror, broke from the garage, and fled for the house and the protection of Mrs. Cutten. Uncle Jared, filled with alarm at the sight of Mr. Cutten's terrible anger, attempted to restrain his nephew.
"Leggo!" shouted Mr. Cutten. "Leggo, I tell you. I'm a boob! I'm an ass! I'm a monkey, but too much is plenty, and enough is always sufficient. I've been taking dirt from the Hackfords for twenty years, but to-day it ends. ”

“ He quickly laid his hand on the drooping shoulder, and shook him gently, but with the intent of rousing him from the lethargy into which he saw the man had fallen. "Why are you here, Knute?'; he asked. "What is the matter?' But to this inquiry there was no reply, yet a slight movement. The man looked up, but the look was as of death itself, hopeless and lifeless, of one soon to be a corpse. Even with his fresh sense of hope, Holden shuddered, but said cheerfully, "Come, come, Knute, let me take you to the house.' "It's no use," answered his mate, with a groan; he cared only to die. ”