the mountains(山脉)-第12节
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slow maddening three miles an hour of the pack… train drove us frantic。
There were times when it seemed that unless we shifted our gait； unless
we stepped outside the slow strain of patience to which the Inferno held us
relentlessly； we should lose our minds and run round and round in circles
as people often do； in the desert。
And when the last and most formidable hundred yards had slunk
sullenly behind us to insignificance； and we had dared let our minds relax
from the insistent need of self…controlthen； beyond the cotton。 woods；
or creek…bed； or group of buildings； whichever it might be； we made out
another； remote as paradise； to which we must gain by sunset。 So again
the wagon…trail； with its white choking dust； its staggering sun； its miles
made up of monotonous inches； each clutching for a man's sanity。
We sang everything we knew； we told stories； we rode cross…saddle；
sidewise； erect； slouching； we walked and led our horses； we shook the
powder of years from old worn jokes； conundrums； and puzzles； and at
the end； in spite of our best efforts； we fell to morose silence and the red…
eyed vindictive contemplation of the objective point that would not seem
to come nearer。
For now we lost accurate sense of time。 At first it had been merely a
question of going in at one side of eight days； pressing through them； and
coming out on the other side。 Then the eight days would be behind us。
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But once we had entered that enchanted period； we found ourselves more
deeply involved。 The seemingly limited area spread with startling
swiftness to the very horizon。 Abruptly it was borne in on us that this
was never going to end； just as now for the first time we realized that it
had begun infinite ages ago。 We were caught in the entanglement of days。
The Coast Ranges were the experiences of a past incarnation： the
Mountains were a myth。
Nothing was real but this； and this would endure forever。 We
plodded on because somehow it was part of the great plan that we should
do so。 Not that it did any good：we had long since given up such ideas。
The illusion was very real； perhaps it was the anodyne mercifully
administered to those who pass through the Inferno。
Most of the time we got on well enough。 One day； only； the Desert
showed her power。 That day； at five of the afternoon； it was one hundred
and twenty degrees in the shade。 And we； through necessity of reaching
the next water； journeyed over the alkali at noon。 Then the Desert came
close on us and looked us fair in the eyes； concealing nothing。 She killed
poor Deuce； the beautiful setter who had traveled the wild countries so
long； she struck Wes and the Tenderfoot from their horses when finally
they had reached a long…legged water tank； she even staggered the horses
themselves。 And I； lying under a bush where I had stayed after the others
in the hope of succoring Deuce； began idly shooting at ghostly jack…rabbits
that looked real； but through which the revolver bullets passed without
resistance。
After this day the Tenderfoot went water…crazy。 Watering the horses
became almost a mania with him。 He could not bear to pass even a mud…
hole without offering the astonished Tunemah a chance to fill up； even
though that animal had drunk freely not twenty rods back。 As for
himself； he embraced every opportunity； and journeyed draped in many
canteens。
After that it was not so bad。 The thermometer stood from a hundred
to a hundred and five or six； to be sure； but we were getting used to it。
Discomfort； ordinary physical discomfort； we came to accept as the
normal environment of man。 It is astonishing how soon uniformly
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uncomfortable conditions； by very lack of contrast； do lose their power to
color the habit of mind。 I imagine merely physical unhappiness is a
matter more of contrasts than of actual circumstances。 We swallowed
dust； we humped our shoulders philosophically under the beating of the
sun； we breathed the debris of high winds； we cooked anyhow； ate
anything； spent long idle fly… infested hours waiting for the noon to pass；
we slept in horse…corrals； in the trail； in the dust； behind stables； in hay；
anywhere。 There was little water； less wood for the cooking。
It is now all confused； an impression of events with out sequence； a
mass of little prominent purposeless things like rock conglomerate。 I
remember leaning my elbows on a low window…ledge and watching a
poker game going on in the room of a dive。 The light came from a sickly
suspended lamp。 It fell on five players；two miners in their shirt…sleeves；
a Mexican； a tough youth with side…tilted derby hat； and a fat gorgeously
dressed Chinaman。 The men held their cards close to their bodies； and
wagered in silence。 Slowly and regularly the great drops of sweat
gathered on their faces。 As regularly they raised the backs of their hands
to wipe them away。 Only the Chinaman； broad…faced； calm； impassive as
Buddha； save for a little crafty smile in one corner of his eye； seemed
utterly unaffected by the heat； cool as autumn。 His loose sleeve fell back
from his forearm when he moved his hand forward； laying his bets。 A
jade bracelet slipped back and forth as smoothly as on yellow ivory。
Or again； one night when the plain was like a sea of liquid black； and
the sky blazed with stars； we rode by a sheep…herder's camp。 The flicker
of a fire threw a glow out into the dark。 A tall wagon； a group of
silhouetted men； three or four squatting dogs； were squarely within the
circle of illumination。 And outside； in the penumbra of shifting half light；
now showing clearly； now fading into darkness； were the sheep；
indeterminate in bulk； melting away by mysterious thousands into the
mass of night。 We passed them。 They looked up； squinting their eyes
against the dazzle of their fire。 The night closed about us again。
Or still another： in the glare of broad noon； after a hot and trying day； a
little inn kept by a French couple。 And there； in the very middle of the
Inferno； was served to us on clean scrubbed tables； a meal such as one gets
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in rural France； all complete； with the potage； the fish fried in oil； the
wonderful ragout； the chicken and salad； the cheese and the black coffee；
even the vin ordinaire。 I have forgotten the name of the place； its
location on the map； the name of its people；one has little to do with
detail in the Inferno；but that dinner never will I forget； any more than the
Tenderfoot will forget his first sight of water the day when the Desert
〃held us up。〃
Once the brown veil lifted to the eastward。 We； souls struggling； saw
great mountains and the whiteness of eternal snow。 That noon we
crossed a river； hurrying down through the flat plain； and in its current
came the body of a drowned bear…cub； an alien from the high country。
These things should have been as signs to our jaded spirits that we
were nearly at the end of our penance； but discipline had seared over our
souls； and we rode on unknowing。
Then we came on a real indication。 It did not amount to much。
Merely a dry river…bed； but the farther bank； instead of being flat； cut into
a low swell of land。 We skirted it。 Another swell of land； like the sullen
after…heave of a storm； lay in our way。
