tp.lightfantastic-第4节

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　In　yet　another　part　of　the　forest　a　young　shaman　was　undergoing　a　very　essential　part　of　his　training。　He　had　eaten　of　the　sacred　toadstool；　he　had　smoked　the　holy　rhizome；　he　had　carefully　powdered　up　and　inserted　into　various　orifices　the　mystic　mushroom　and　now；　sitting　crosslegged　under　a　pine　tree；　he　was　concentrating　firstly　on　making　contact　with　the　strange　and　wonderful　secrets　at　the　heart　of　Being　but　mainly　on　stopping　the　top　of　his　head　from　unscrewing　and　floating　away。
　Blue　four…side　triangles　pinwheeled　across　his　vision。　Occasionally　he　smiled　knowingly　at　nothing　very　much　and　said　things　like　'Wow'　and　'Urgh。'
　There　was　a　movement　in　the　air　and　what　he　later　described　as　'like；　a　sort　of　explosion　only　backwards；　you　know？'；　and　suddenly　where　there　had　only　been　nothing　there　was　a　large；　battered；　wooden　chest。
　It　landed　heavily　on　the　leafmould；　extended　dozens　of　little　legs；　and　turned　around　ponderously　to　look　at　the　shaman。　That　is　to　say；　it　had　no　face；　but　even　through　the　mycological　haze　he　was　horribly　aware　that　it　was　looking　at　him。　And　not　a　nice　look；　either。　It　was　amazing　how　baleful　a　keyhole　and　a　couple　of　knotholes　could　be。
　To　his　intense　relief　it　gave　a　sort　of　wooden　shrug；　and　set　off　through　the　trees　at　a　canter。
　With　superhuman　effort　the　shaman　recalled　the　correct　sequence　of　movements　for　standing　up　and　even　managed　a　couple　of　steps　before　he　looked　down　and　gave　up；　having　run　out　of　legs。
　Rincewind；　meanwhile；　had　found　a　path。　It　wound　about　a　good　deal；　and　he　would　have　been　happier　if　it　had　been　cobbled；　but　following　it　gave　him　something　to　do。
　Several　trees　tried　to　strike　up　a　conversation；　but　Rincewind　was　nearly　certain　that　this　was　not　normal　behaviour　for　trees　and　ignored　them。
　The　day　lengthened。　There　was　no　sound　but　the　murmur　of　nasty　little　stinging　insects；　the　occasional　crack　of　a　falling　branch；　and　the　whispering　of　the　trees　discussing　religion　and　the　trouble　with　squirrels。　Rincewind　began　to　feel　very　lonely。　He　imagined　himself　living　in　the　woods　forever；　sleeping　on　leaves　and　eating　。　。　。　and　eating　。　。　。　whatever　there　was　to　eat　in　woods。　Trees；　he　supposed；　and　nuts　and　berries。　He　would　have　to　。　。　。
　'Rincewind！'
　There；　ing　up　the　path；　was　Twoflower　…　dripping　wet；　but　beaming　with　delight。　The　Luggage　trotted　along　behind　him　（anything　made　of　the　wood　would　follow　its　owner　anywhere　and　it　was　often　used　to　make　luggage　for　the　grave　goods　of　very　rich　dead　kings　who　wanted　to　be　sure　of　starting　a　new　life　in　the　next　world　with　clean　underwear）。
　Rincewind　sighed。　Up　to　now；　he'd　thought　the　day　couldn't　possibly　get　worse。
　

　It　began　to　rain　a　particularly　wet　and　cold　rain。　Rincewind　and　Twoflower　sat　under　a　tree　and　watched　it。
　'Rincewind？'
　'Um？'
　'Why　are　we　here？'
　'Well；　some　say　that　the　Creator　of　the　Universe　made　the　Disc　and　everything　on　it；　others　say　that　its　all　a　very　plicated　story　involving　the　testicles　of　the　Sky　God　and　the　milk　of　the　Celestial　Cow；　and　some　even　hold　that　we're　all　just　due　to　the　total　random　accretion　of　probability　particles。　But　if　you　mean　why　are　we　here　as　opposed　to　falling　off　the　Disc；　I　haven't　the　faintest　idea。　It's　probably　all　some　ghastly　mistake。'
　'Oh。　Do　you　think　there's　anything　to　eat　in　this　forest？'
　'Yes；'　said　the　wizard　bitterly；　us。'
　'I've　got　some　acorns；　if　you　like；'　said　the　tree　helpfully。
　They　sat　in　damp　silence　for　some　moments。
　'Rincewind；　the　tree　said…'
　'Trees　can't　talk；'　snapped　Rincewind。　'It's　very　important　to　remember　that。'
　'But　you　just　heard…'
　Rincewind　sighed。　Took；'　he　said。　It's　all　down　to　simple　biology；　isn't　it？　If　you're　going　to　talk　you　need　the　right　equipment；　like　lungs　and　lips　and；　and…'
　'Vocal　chords；'　said　the　tree。
　'Yeah；　them；'　said　Rincewind。　He　shut　up　and　stared　gloomily　at　the　rain。
　'I　thought　wizards　knew　all　about　trees　and　wild　food　and　things；'　said　Twoflower　reproachfully。　It　was　very　seldom　that　anything　in　his　voice　suggested　that　he　thought　of　Rincewind　as　anything　other　than　a　magnificent　enchanter；　and　the　wizard　was　stung　into　action。
　'I　do；　I　do；'　he　snapped。
　'Well；　what　kind　of　tree　is　this？'　said　the　tourist。　Rincewind　looked　up。
　'Beech；'　he　said　firmly。
　'Actually…'　began　the　tree；　and　shut　up　quickly。　It　had　caught　Rincewind's　look。
　'Those　things　up　there　look　like　acorns；'　said　Twoflower。
　'Yes；　well；　this　is　the　sessile　or　heptocarpic　variety；'　said　Rincewind。　The　nuts　look　very　much　like　acorns；　in　fact。　They　can　fool　practically　anybody。'
　'Gosh；'　said　Twoflower；　and；　What's　that　bush　over　there；　then？'
　'Mistletoe。'
　'But　it's　got　thorns　and　red　berries！'
　'Well？'　said　Rincewind　sternly；　and　stared　hard　at　him。　Twoflower　broke　first。
　'Nothing；'　he　said　meekly。　'I　must　have　been　misinformed。'
　'Right。'
　'But　there's　some　big　mushrooms　under　it。　Can　you　eat　them？'
　Rincewind　looked　at　them　cautiously。　They　were；　indeed；　very　big；　and　had　red　and　white　spotted　caps。　They　were　in　fact　a　variety　that　the　local　shaman　（who　at　this　point　was　some　miles　away；　making　friends　with　a　rock）　would　only　eat　after　first　attaching　one　leg　to　a　large　stone　with　a　rope。　There　was　nothing　for　it　but　to　go　out　in　the　rain　and　look　at　them。
　He　knelt　down　in　the　leafmould　and　peered　under　the　cap。　After　a　while　he　said　weakly；　'No；　no　good　to　eat　at　all。'
　'Why？'　called　Twoflower。　'Are　the　gills　the　wrong　shade　of　yellow？'
　'No；　not　really　。　。　。'
　'I　expect　the　stems　haven't　got　the　right　kind　of　fluting；　then。'
　'They　look　okay；　actually。'
　'The　cap；　then；　I　expect　the　cap　is　the　wrong　colour；'　said　Twoflower。
　'Not　sure　about　that。'
　'Well　then；　why　can't　you　eat　them？'
　Rincewind　coughed。　It's　the　little　doors　and　windows；'　he　said　wretchedly；　'it's　a　dead　giveaway。'
　

　Thunder　rolled　across　Unseen　University。　Rain　poured　over　its　roofs　and　gurgled　out　of　its　gargoyles；　although　one　or　two　of　the　more　cunning　ones　had　scuttled　off　to　shelter　among　the　maze　of　tiles。
　Far　below；　in　the　Great　Hall；　the　eight　most　powerful　wizards　on　the　Discworld　gathered　at　the　angles　of　a　ceremonial　octogram。　Actually　they　probably　weren't　the　most　powerful；　if　the　truth　were　known；　but　they　certainly　had　great　powers　of　survival　which；　in　the　highly　petitive　world　of　magic；　was　pretty　much　the　same　thing。　Behind　every　wizard　of　the　eighth　rank　were　half　a　dozen　eventh　rank　wizards　trying　to　bump　him　off；　and　senior　wizards　had　to　develop　an　inquiring　attitude　to；　for　example；　scorpions　in　their　bed。　An　ancient　proverb　summed　it　up：　when　a　wizard　is　tired　of　looking　for　broken　glass　in　his　dinner；　it　ran；　he　is　tired　of　life。
　The　oldest　wizard；　Greyhald　Spold　of　the　Ancient　and　Truly　Original　Sages　of　the　Unbroken　Circle；　leaned　heavily　on　his　carven　staff　and　spake　thusly：
　'Get　on　with　it；　Weatherwax；　my　feet　are　giving　me　gyp。'
　Galder；　who　had　merely　paused　for　effect；　glared　at　him。
　'Very　well；　then；　I　will　be　brief　…'
　'Jolly　good。'
　We　all　sought　guidance　as　to　the　events　of　this　morning。　Can　anyone　among　us　say　he　received　it？'
　The　wizards　looked　sidelong　at　one　another。　Nowhere　outside　a　trades　union　conference　fraternal　benefit　night　can　so　much　mutual　distrust　and　suspicion　be　found　as　among　a　gathering　of　senior　enchanters。　But　the　plain　fact　was　that　the　day　had　gone　very　badly。　Normally　informative　demons；　summoned　abruptly　from　the　Dungeon　Dimensions；　had　looked　sheepish　and　sidled　away　when　questioned。　Magic　mirrors　had　cracked。　Tarot　cards　had　mysteriously　bee　blank。　Crystal　balls　had　gone　all　cloudy。　Even　tealeaves；　normally　scorned　by　wizards　as　frivolous　and　unworthy　of　contemplation；　had　clustered　together　at　the　bottom　of　cups　and　refused　to　move。
　In　short；　the　assembled　wizards　were　at　a　loss。　There　was　a　general　murmur　of　agreement。
　'And　therefore　I　propose　that　we　perform　the　Rite　of　AshkEnte；'　said　Galder　dramatically。
　He　had　to　admit　that　he　had　hoped　for　a　better　response；　something　on　the　lines　of；　well；　'No；　not　the　Rite　of　AshkEnte！　Man　was　not　meant　to　meddle　with　such　things！'
　In　fact　there　was　a　general　mutter　of　approval。
　'Good　idea。'
　'Seems　reasonable。'
　'Get　on　with　it；　then。'
　Slightly　put　out；　he　summoned　a　procession　of　lesser　wizards　who　carried　various　magical　implements　into　the　hall。
　It　has　already　been　hinted　that　around　this　time　there　was　some　disagreement　among　the　fraternity　of　wizards　about　how　to　practise　magic。
　Younger　wizards　in　particular　went　about　saying　that　it　was　time　that　magic　started　to　update　its　image　and　that　they　should　all　stop　mucking　about　with　bits　of　wax　and　bone　and　put　the　whole　thing　on　a　properly…organised　basis；　with　research　programmes　and　three…day　conventions　in　good　hotels　where　they　could　read　papers　with　titles　like　'Whither　Geomancy？'　and　The　role　of　Seven…League　Boots　in　a　caring　society。'
　Trymon；　for　example；　hardly　ever　did　any　magic　these　days　but　ran　the　Order　with　hourglass　efficiency　and　wrote　lots　of　memos　and　had　a　big　chart　on　his　office　wall；　covered　with　coloured　blobs　and　flags　and　lines　that　no…one　else　really　understood　but　which　looked　very　impressiv