the mountains(山脉)-第30节
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basely left all our dishes until the morrow； and followed our cow…
puncher to his log cabin； where we were to spend the evening。
By now it was dark； and a bitter cold swooped down from the
mountains。 We built a fire in a huge stone fireplace and sat around in the
flickering light telling ghost…stories to one another。 The place was rudely
furnished； with only a hard earthen floor； and chairs hewn by the axe。
Rifles； spurs； bits； revolvers； branding…irons in turn caught the light and
vanished in the shadow。 The skin of a bear looked at us from hollow
eye…sockets in which there were no eyes。 We talked of the Long Trail。
Outside the wind； rising； howled through the shakes of the roof
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THE MOUNTAINS
XV
ON THE WIND AT NIGHT
The winds were indeed abroad that night。 They rattled our cabin；
they shrieked in our eaves； they puffed down our chimney； scattering the
ashes and leaving in the room a balloon of smoke as though a shell had
burst。 When we opened the door and stepped out； after our good…nights
had been said； it caught at our hats and garments as though it had been
lying in wait for us。
To our eyes； fire…dazzled； the night seemed very dark。 There would
be a moon later； but at present even the stars seemed only so many
pinpoints of dull metal； lustreless； without illumination。 We felt our way
to camp； conscious of the softness of grasses； the uncertainty of stones。
At camp the remains of the fire crouched beneath the rating of the
storm。 Its embers glowed sullen and red； alternately glaring with a half…
formed resolution to rebel； and dying to a sulky resignation。 Once a
feeble flame sprang up for an instant； but was immediately pounced on
and beaten flat as though by a vigilant antagonist。
We； stumbling； gathered again our tumbled blankets。 Across the
brow of the knoll lay a huge pine trunk。 In its shelter we respread our
bedding； and there； standing； dressed for the night。 The power of the
wind tugged at our loose garments； hoping for spoil。 A towel； shaken by
accident from the interior of a sweater； departed white…winged； like a bird；
into the outer blackness。 We found it next day caught in the bushes
several hundred yards distant。 Our voices as we shouted were snatched
from our lips and hurled lavishly into space。 The very breath of our
bodies seemed driven back； so that as we faced the elements； we breathed
in gasps； with difficulty。
Then we dropped down into our blankets。
At once the prostrate tree…trunk gave us its protection。 We lay in a
little back…wash of the racing winds； still as a night in June。 Over us
roared the battle。 We felt like sharpshooters in the trenches； as though；
were we to raise our heads； at that instant we should enter a zone of danger。
So we lay quietly on our backs and stared at the heavens。
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THE MOUNTAINS
The first impression thence given was of stars sailing serene and
unaffected； remote from the turbulence of what until this instant had
seemed to fill the universe。 They were as always； just as we should see
them when the evening was warm and the tree…toads chirped clearly
audible at half a mile。 The importance of the tempest shrank。 Then
below them next we noticed the mountains； they too were serene and
calm。
Immediately it was as though the storm were an hallucination；
something not objective； something real； but within the soul of him who
looked upon it。 It claimed sudden kinship with those blackest days when
nevertheless the sun； the mere external unimportant sun； shines with
superlative brilliancy。 Emotions of a power to shake the foundations of
life seemed vaguely to stir in answer to these their hollow symbols。 For
after all； we were contented at heart and tranquil in mind； and this was but
the outer gorgeous show of an intense emotional experience we did not at
the moment prove。 Our nerves responded to it automatically。 We
became excited； keyed to a high tension； and so lay rigid on our backs； as
though fighting out the battles of our souls。
It was all so unreal and yet so plain to our senses that perforce
automatically our experience had to conclude it psychical。 We were in
air absolutely still。 Yet above us the trees writhed and twisted and turned
and bent and struck back； evidently in the power of a mighty force。
Across the calm heavens the murk of flying atmosphereI have always
maintained that if you looked closely enough you could SEE the windthe
dim； hardly…made…out； fine debris fleeing high in the air；these faintly
hinted at intense movement rushing down through space。 A roar of
sound filled the hollow of the sky。 Occasionally it intermitted； falling
abruptly in volume like the mysterious rare hushings of a rapid stream。
Then the familiar noises of a summer night became audible for the briefest
instant；a horse sneezed； an owl hooted； the wild call of birds came down
the wind。 And with a howl the legions of good and evil took up their
warring。 It was too real； and yet it was not reconcilable with the calm of
our resting…places。
For hours we lay thus in all the intensity of an inner storm and stress；
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THE MOUNTAINS
which it seemed could not fail to develop us； to mould us； to age us； to
leave on us its scars； to bequeath us its peace or remorse or despair； as
would some great mysterious dark experience direct from the sources of
life。 And then abruptly we were exhausted； as we should have been by
too great emotion。 We fell asleep。 The morning dawned still and clear；
and garnished and set in order as though such things had never been。
Only our white towel fluttered like a flag of truce in the direction the
mighty elements had departed。
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THE MOUNTAINS
XVI
THE VALLEY
Once upon a time I happened to be staying in a hotel room which had
originally been part of a suite； but which was then cut off from the others
by only a thin door through which sounds carried clearly。 It was about
eleven o'clock in the evening。 The occupants of that next room came
home。 I heard the door open and close。 Then the bed shrieked aloud as
somebody fell heavily upon it。 There breathed across the silence a deep
restful sigh。
〃Mary；〃 said a man's voice； 〃I'm mighty sorry I didn't join that
Association for Artificial Vacations。 They guarantee to get you just as
tired and just as mad in two days as you could by yourself in two weeks。〃
We thought of that one morning as we descended the Glacier Point
Trail in Yosemite。
The contrast we need not have made so sharp。 We might have taken
the regular wagon…road by way of Chinquapin； but we preferred to stick to
the trail； and so encountered our first sign of civilization within an
hundred yards of the brink。 It； the sign； was tourists。 They were male
and female； as the Lord had made them； but they had improved on that
idea since。 The women were freckled； hatted with alpines； in which
edelweissartificial； I think flowered in abundance； they sported
severely plain flannel shirts；
