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第7节

a sappho of green springs-第7节

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long experience and technical skill; he too had noted the

topographical indications of the poem; and his knowledge of the

sylva of Upper California pointed as unerringly as Mr。 Hamlin's

luck to the cryptogamous haunts of the Summit。  Such abnormal

growths were indicative of certain localities only; but; as they

were not remunerative from a pecuniary point of view; were to be

avoided by the sagacious woodman。  It was clear; therefore; that

Mr。 Bowers's visit to Green Springs was not professional; and that

he did not even figuratively accept the omen。



He baited and rested his horse at the hotel; where his bucolic

exterior; however; did not elicit that attention which had been

accorded to Mr。 Hamlin's charming insolence or the editor's

cultivated manner。  But he glanced over a township map on the walls

of the reading…room; and took note of the names of the owners of

different lots; farms; and ranches; passing that of Delatour with

the others。  Then he drove leisurely in the direction of the woods;

and; reaching them; tied his horse to a young sapling in the shade;

and entered their domain with a shambling but familiar woodman's

step。



It is not the purpose of this brief chronicle to follow Mr。 Bowers

in his professional diagnosis of the locality。  He recognized

Nature in one of her moods of wasteful extravagance;a waste that

his experienced eye could tell was also sapping the vitality of

those outwardly robust shafts that rose around him。  He knew;

without testing them; that half of these fair…seeming columns were

hollow and rotten at the core; he could detect the chill odor of

decay through the hot balsamic spices stirred by the wind that

streamed through their long aisles;like incense mingling with the

exhalations of a crypt。  He stopped now and then to part the heavy

fronds down to their roots in the dank moss; seeing again; as he

had told the editor; the weird SECOND twilight through their

miniature stems; and the microcosm of life that filled it。  But;

even while paying this tribute to the accuracy of the unknown

poetess; he was; like his predecessor; haunted more strongly by the

atmosphere and melody of her verse。  Its spell was upon him; too。

Unlike Mr。 Hamlin; he did not sing。  He only halted once or twice;

silently combing his straight narrow beard with his three fingers;

until the action seemed to draw down the lines of his face into

limitless dejection; and an inscrutable melancholy filled his small

gray eyes。  The few birds which had hailed Mr。 Hamlin as their

successful rival fled away before the grotesque and angular half…

length of Mr。 Bowers; as if the wind had blown in a scarecrow from

the distant farms。



Suddenly he observed the figure of a woman; with her back towards

him; leaning motionless against a tree; and apparently gazing

intently in the direction of Green Springs。  He had approached so

near to her that it was singular she had not heard him。  Mr。 Bowers

was a bashful man in the presence of the other sex。  He felt

exceedingly embarrassed; if he could have gone away without

attracting her attention he would have done so。  Neither could he

remain silent; a tacit spy of her meditation。  He had recourse to a

polite but singularly artificial cough。



To his surprise; she gave a faint cry; turned quickly towards him;

and then shrank back and lapsed quite helpless against the tree。

Her evident distress overcame his bashfulness。  He ran towards her。



〃I'm sorry I frighted ye; ma'am; but I was afraid I might skeer ye

more if I lay low; and said nothin'。〃



Even then; if she had been some fair young country girl; he would

have relapsed after this speech into his former bashfulness。  But

the face and figure she turned towards him were neither young nor

fair: a woman past forty; with gray threads and splashes in her

brushed…back hair; which was turned over her ears in two curls like

frayed strands of rope。  Her forehead was rather high than broad;

her nose large but well…shaped; and her eyes full but so singularly

light in color as to seem almost sightless。  The short upper lip of

her large mouth displayed her teeth in an habitual smile; which was

in turn so flatly contradicted by every other line of her careworn

face that it seemed gratuitously artificial。  Her figure was hidden

by a shapeless garment that partook equally of the shawl; cloak;

and wrapper。



〃I am very foolish;〃 she began; in a voice and accent that at once

asserted a cultivated woman; 〃but I so seldom meet anybody here

that a voice quite startled me。  That; and the heat;〃 she went on;

wiping her face; into which the color was returning violently〃for

I seldom go out as early as thisI suppose affected me。〃



Mr。 Bowers had that innate Far…Western reverence for womanhood

which I fancy challenges the most polished politeness。  He remained

patient; undemonstrative; self…effacing; and respectful before her;

his angular arm slightly but not obtrusively advanced; the offer of

protection being in the act rather than in any spoken word; and

requiring no response。



〃Like as not; ma'am;〃 he said; cheerfully looking everywhere but in

her burning face。  〃The sun IS pow'ful hot at this time o' day; I

felt it myself comin' yer; and; though the damp of this timber

kinder sets it back; it's likely to come out ag'in。  Ye can't check

it no more than the sap in that choked limb thar〃he pointed

ostentatiously where a fallen pine had been caught in the bent and

twisted arm of another; but which still put out a few green tassels

beyond the point of impact。  〃Do you live far from here; ma'am?〃 he

added。



〃Only as far as the first turning below the hill。〃



〃I've got my buggy here; and I'm goin' that way; and I can jist set

ye down thar cool and comfortable。  Ef;〃 he continued; in the same

assuring tone; without waiting for a reply; 〃ye'll jist take a good

grip of my arm thar;〃 curving his wrist and hand behind him like a

shepherd's crook; 〃I'll go first; and break away the brush for ye。〃



She obeyed mechanically; and they fared on through the thick ferns

in this fashion for some moments; he looking ahead; occasionally

dropping a word of caution or encouragement; but never glancing at

her face。  When they reached the buggy he lifted her into it

carefully;and perpendicularly; it struck her afterwards; very

much as if she had been a transplanted sapling with bared and

sensitive roots;and then gravely took his place beside her。



〃Bein' in the timber trade myself; ma'am;〃 he said; gathering up

the reins; 〃I chanced to sight these woods; and took a look around。

My name is Bowers; of Mendocino; I reckon there ain't much that

grows in the way o' standin' timber on the Pacific Slope that I

don't know and can't locate; though I DO say it。  I've got ez big a

mill; and ez big a run in my district; ez there is anywhere。  Ef

you're ever up my way; you ask for BowersJim Bowersand that's

ME。〃



There is probably nothing more conducive to conversation between

strangers than a wholesome and early recognition of each other's

foibles。  Mr。 Bowers; believing his chance acquaintance a superior

woman; naively spoke of himself in a way that he hoped would

reassure her that she was not compromising herself in accepting his

civility; and so satisfy what must be her inevitable pride。  On the

other hand; the woman regained her self…possession by this

exhibition of Mr。 Bowers's vanity; and; revived by the refreshing

breeze caused by the rapid motion of the buggy along the road;

thanked him graciously。



〃I suppose there are many strangers at the Green Springs Hotel;〃

she said; after a pause。



〃I didn't get to see 'em; as I only put up my hoss there;〃 he

replied。  〃But I know the stage took some away this mornin': it

seemed pretty well loaded up when I passed it。〃



The woman drew a deep sigh。  The act struck Mr。 Bowers as a

possible return of her former nervous weakness。  Her attention must

at once be distracted at any costeven conversation。



〃Perhaps;〃 he began; with sudden and appalling lightness; 〃I'm

a…talkin' to Mrs。 McFadden?〃



〃No;〃 said the woman; abstractedly。



〃Then it must be Mrs。 Delatour?  There are only two township lots

on that crossroad。〃



〃My name IS Delatour;〃 she said; somewhat wearily。



Mr。 Bowers was conversationally stranded。  He was not at all

anxious to know her name; yet; knowing it now; it seemed to suggest

that there was nothing more to say。  He would; of course; have

preferred to ask her if she had read the poetry about the

Underbrush; and if she knew the poetess; and what she thought of

it; but the fact that she appeared to be an 〃eddicated〃 woman made

him sensitive of displaying technical ignorance in his manner of

talking about it。  She might ask him if it was 〃subjective or

〃objective〃two words he had heard used at the Debating Society at

Mendocino on the question; 〃Is poetry morally beneficial?〃  F

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