the last of the plainsmen-第3节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


d　punched　Jones　in　the　back。　Next　moment；　the　keen　exhilaration　of　the　ride　gave　way　to　horror。　We　seemed　to　drag；　and　almost　stop。　Some　one　roared：　〃Horse　down！〃　One　instant　of　painful　suspense；　in　which　imagination　pictured　another　tragedy　added　to　the　record　of　this　deceitful　rivera　moment　filled　with　intense　feeling；　and　sensation　of　splash；　and　yell；　and　fury　of　action；　then　the　three　able　horses　dragged　their　comrade　out　of　the　quicksand。　He　regained　his　feet；　and　plunged　on。　Spurred　by　fear；　the　horses　increased　their　efforts；　and　amid　clouds　of　spray；　galloped　the　remaining　distance　to　the　other　side。

Jones　looked　disgusted。　Like　all　plainsmen；　he　hated　water。　Emmett　and　his　men　calmly　unhitched。　No　trace　of　alarm；　or　even　of　excitement　showed　in　their　bronzed　faces。

〃We　made　that　fine　and　easy；〃　remarked　Emmett。

So　I　sat　down　and　wondered　what　Jones　and　Emmett；　and　these　men　would　consider　really　hazardous。　I　began　to　have　a　feeling　that　I　would　find　out；　that　experience　for　me　was　but　in　its　infancy；　that　far　across　the　desert　the　something　which　had　called　me　would　show　hard；　keen；　perilous　life。　And　I　began　to　think　of　reserve　powers　of　fortitude　and　endurance。

The　other　wagons　were　brought　across　without　mishap；　but　the　dogs　did　not　come　with　them。　Jones　called　and　called。　The　dogs　howled　and　howled。　Finally　I　waded　out　over　the　wet　bars　and　little　streams　to　a　point　several　hundred　yards　nearer　the　dogs。　Moze　was　lying　down；　but　the　others　were　whining　and　howling　in　a　state　of　great　perturbation。　I　called　and　called。　They　answered；　and　even　ran　into　the　water；　but　did　not　start　across。

〃Hyah；　Moze！　hyah；　you　Indian！〃　I　yelled；　losing　my　patience。　〃You've　already　swum　the　Big　Colorado；　and　this　is　only　a　brook。　Come　on！〃

This　appeal　evidently　touched　Moze；　for　he　barked；　and　plunged　in。　He　made　the　water　fly；　and　when　carried　off　his　feet；　breasted　the　current　with　energy　and　power。　He　made　shore　almost　even　with　me；　and　wagged　his　tail。　Not　to　be　outdone；　Jude；　Tige　and　Don　followed　suit；　and　first　one　and　then　another　was　swept　off　his　feet　and　carried　downstream。　They　landed　below　me。　This　left　Ranger；　the　pup；　alone　on　the　other　shore。　Of　all　the　pitiful　yelps　ever　uttered　by　a　frightened　and　lonely　puppy；　his　were　the　most　forlorn　I　had　ever　heard。　Time　after　time　he　plunged　in；　and　with　many　bitter　howls　of　distress；　went　back。　I　kept　calling；　and　at　last；　hoping　to　make　him　come　by　a　show　of　indifference；　I　started　away。　This　broke　his　heart。　Putting　up　his　head；　he　let　out　a　long；　melancholy　wail；　which　for　aught　I　knew　might　have　been　a　prayer；　and　then　consigned　himself　to　the　yellow　current。　Ranger　swam　like　a　boy　learning。　He　seemed　to　be　afraid　to　get　wet。　His　forefeet　were　continually　pawing　the　air　in　front　of　his　nose。　When　he　struck　the　swift　place；　he　went　downstream　like　a　flash；　but　still　kept　swimming　valiantly。　I　tried　to　follow　along　the　sand…bar；　but　found　it　impossible。　I　encouraged　him　by　yelling。　He　drifted　far　below；　stranded　on　an　island；　crossed　it；　and　plunged　in　again；　to　make　shore　almost　out　of　my　sight。　And　when　at　last　I　got　to　dry　sand；　there　was　Ranger；　wet　and　disheveled；　but　consciously　proud　and　happy。

After　lunch　we　entered　upon　the　seventy…mile　stretch　from　the　Little　to　the　Big　Colorado。

Imagination　had　pictured　the　desert　for　me　as　a　vast；　sandy　plain；　flat　and　monotonous。　Reality　showed　me　desolate　mountains　gleaming　bare　in　the　sun；　long　lines　of　red　bluffs；　white　sand　dunes；　and　hills　of　blue　clay；　areas　of　level　groundin　all；　a　many…hued；　boundless　world　in　itself；　wonderful　and　beautiful；　fading　all　around　into　the　purple　haze　of　deceiving　distance。

Thin；　clear；　sweet；　dry；　the　desert　air　carried　a　languor；　a　dreaminess；　tidings　of　far…off　things；　and　an　enthralling　promise。　The　fragrance　of　flowers；　the　beauty　and　grace　of　women；　the　sweetness　of　music；　the　mystery　of　lifeall　seemed　to　float　on　that　promise。　It　was　the　air　breathed　by　the　lotus…eaters；　when　they　dreamed；　and　wandered　no　more。

Beyond　the　Little　Colorado；　we　began　to　climb　again。　The　sand　was　thick；　the　horses　labored；　the　drivers　shielded　their　faces。　The　dogs　began　to　limp　and　lag。　Ranger　had　to　be　taken　into　a　wagon；　and　then；　one　by　one；　all　of　the　other　dogs　except　Moze。　He　refused　to　ride；　and　trotted　along　with　his　head　down。

Far　to　the　front　the　pink　cliffs；　the　ragged　mesas；　the　dark；　volcanic　spurs　of　the　Big　Colorado　stood　up　and　beckoned　us　onward。　But　they　were　a　far　hundred　miles　across　the　shifting　sands；　and　baked　day；　and　ragged　rocks。　Always　in　the　rear　rose　the　San　Francisco　peaks；　cold　and　pure；　startlingly　clear　and　close　in　the　rare　atmosphere。

We　camped　near　another　water　hole；　located　in　a　deep；　yellow…colored　gorge；　crumbling　to　pieces；　a　ruin　of　rock；　and　silent　as　the　grave。　In　the　bottom　of　the　canyon　was　a　pool　of　water；　covered　with　green　scum。　My　thirst　was　effectually　quenched　by　the　mere　sight　of　it。　I　slept　poorly；　and　lay　for　hours　watching　the　great　stars。　The　silence　was　painfully　oppressive。　If　Jones　had　not　begun　to　give　a　respectable　imitation　of　the　exhaust　pipe　on　a　steamboat；　I　should　have　been　compelled　to　shout　aloud；　or　get　up；　but　this　snoring　would　have　dispelled　anything。　The　morning　came　gray　and　cheerless。　I　got　up　stiff　and　sore；　with　a　tongue　like　a　rope。

All　day　long　we　ran　the　gauntlet　of　the　hot；　flying　sand。　Night　came　again；　a　cold；　windy　night。　I　slept　well　until　a　mule　stepped　on　my　bed；　which　was　conducive　to　restlessness。　At　dawn；　cold；　gray　clouds　tried　to　blot　out　the　rosy　east。　I　could　hardly　get　up。　My　lips　were　cracked；　my　tongue　swollen　to　twice　its　natural　size；　my　eyes　smarted　and　burned。　The　barrels　and　kegs　of　water　were　exhausted。　Holes　that　had　been　dug　in　the　dry　sand　of　a　dry　streambed　the　night　before　in　the　morning　yielded　a　scant　supply　of　muddy　alkali　water；　which　went　to　the　horses。

Only　twice　that　day　did　I　rouse　to　anything　resembling　enthusiasm。　We　came　to　a　stretch　of　country　showing　the　wonderful　diversity　of　the　desert　land。　A　long　range　of　beautifully　rounded　clay　stones　bordered　the　trail。　So　symmetrical　were　they　that　I　imagined　them　works　of　sculptors。　Light　blue；　dark　blue；　clay　blue；　marine　blue；　cobalt　blueevery　shade　of　blue　was　there；　but　no　other　color。　The　other　time　that　I　awoke　to　sensations　from　without　was　when　we　came　to　the　top　of　a　ridge。　We　had　been　passing　through　red…lands。　Jones　called　the　place　a　strong；　specific　word　which　really　was　illustrative　of　the　heat　amid　those　scaling　red　ridges。　We　came　out　where　the　red　changed　abruptly　to　gray。　I　seemed　always　to　see　things　first；　and　I　cried　out：　〃Look！　here　are　a　red　lake　and　trees！〃

〃No；　lad；　not　a　lake；〃　said　old　Jim；　smiling　at　me；　〃that's　what　haunts　the　desert　traveler。　It's　only　mirage！〃

So　I　awoke　to　the　realization　of　that　illusive　thing；　the　mirage；　a　beautiful　lie；　false　as　stairs　of　sand。　Far　northward　a　clear　rippling　lake　sparkled　in　the　sunshine。　Tall；　stately　trees；　with　waving　green　foliage；　bordered　the　water。　For　a　long　moment　it　lay　there；　smiling　in　the　sun；　a　thing　almost　tangible；　and　then　it　faded。　I　felt　a　sense　of　actual　loss。　So　real　had　been　the　illusion　that　I　could　not　believe　I　was　not　soon　to　drink　and　wade　and　dabble　in　the　cool　waters。　Disappointment　was　keen。　This　is　what　maddens　the　prospector　or　sheep…herder　lost　in　the　desert。　Was　it　not　a　terrible　thing　to　be　dying　of　thirst；　to　see　sparkling　water；　almost　to　smell　it　and　then　realize　suddenly　that　all　was　only　a　lying　track　of　the　desert；　a　lure；　a　delusion？　I　ceased　to　wonder　at　the　Mormons；　and　their　search　for　water；　their　talk　of　water。　But　I　had　not　realized　its　true　significance。　I　had　not　known　what　water　was。　I　had　never　appreciated　it。　So　it　was　my　destiny　to　learn　that　water　is　the　greatest　thing　on　earth。　I　hung　over　a　three…foot　hole　in　a　dry　stream…bed；　and　watched　it　ooze　and　seep　through　the　sand；　and　fill　upoh；　so　slowly；　and　I　felt　it　loosen　my　parched　tongue；　and　steal　through　all　my　dry　body　with　strength　and　life。　Water　is　said　to　constitute　three　fourths　of　the　universe。　However　that　may　be；　on　the　desert　it　is　the　whole　world；　and　all　of　life。

Two　days　passed　by；　all　hot　sand　and　wind　and　glare。　The　Mormons　sang　no　more　at　evening；　Jones　was　silent；　the　dogs　were　limp　as　rags。

At　Moncaupie　Wash　we　ran　into　a　sandstorm。　The　horses　turned　their　backs　to　it；　and　bowed　their　heads　patiently。　The　Mormons　covered　themselves。　I　wrapped　a　blanket　round　my　head　and　hid　behind　a　sage　bush。　The　wind；　carrying　the　sand；　made　a　strange　hollow　roar。　All　was　enveloped　in　a　weird　yellow　opacity。　The　sand　seeped　through　the　sage　bush　and　swept　by　with　a　soft；　rustling　sound；　not　unlike　the　wind　in　the　rye。　From　time　to　time　I　raised　a　corner　of　my　blanket　and　peeped　out。　Where　my　feet　had　stretched　was　an　enormous　mound　of　sand。　I　felt　the　blanket；　weighted　down；　slowly　settle　over　me。

Suddenly　as　it　had　come；　the　sandstorm　passed。　It　left　a　changed　world　for　us。　The　trail　was　covered；　the　wheels　hub…deep　in　sand；　the　horses；　walking　sand　dunes。　I　could　not　close　my　teeth　without　grating　harshly　on　sand。

We　journeyed　onward；　and　passed　long　lines　of　petrified　trees；　some　a　hundred　feet　in　length；　lying