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the silverado squatters-第7部分
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signs of miners and their boots; and a pair of papers pinned
on the boarding; headed respectively 〃Funnel No。 1;〃 and
〃Funnel No。 2;〃 but with the tails torn away。 The window;
sashless of course; was choked with the green and sweetly
smelling foliage of a bay; and through a chink in the floor;
a spray of poison oak had shot up and was handsomely
prospering in the interior。 It was my first care to cut away
that poison oak; Fanny standing by at a respectful distance。
That was our first improvement by which we took possession。
The room immediately above could only be entered by a plank
propped against the threshold; along which the intruder must
foot it gingerly; clutching for support to sprays of poison
oak; the proper product of the country。 Herein was; on
either hand; a triple tier of beds; where miners had once
lain; and the other gable was pierced by a sashless window
and a doorless doorway opening on the air of heaven; five
feet above the ground。 As for the third room; which entered
squarely from the ground level; but higher up the hill and
farther up the canyon; it contained only rubbish and the
uprights for another triple tier of beds。
The whole building was overhung by a bold; lion…like; red
rock。 Poison oak; sweet bay trees; calcanthus; brush; and
chaparral; grew freely but sparsely all about it。 In front;
in the strong sunshine; the platform lay overstrewn with busy
litter; as though the labours of the mine might begin again
to…morrow in the morning。
Following back into the canyon; among the mass of rotting
plant and through the flowering bushes; we came to a great
crazy staging; with a wry windless on the top; and clambering
up; we could look into an open shaft; leading edgeways down
into the bowels of the mountain; trickling with water; and
lit by some stray sun…gleams; whence I know not。 In that
quiet place the still; far…away tinkle of the water…drops was
loudly audible。 Close by; another shaft led edgeways up into
the superincumbent shoulder of the hill。 It lay partly open;
and sixty or a hundred feet above our head; we could see the
strata propped apart by solid wooden wedges; and a pine; half
undermined; precariously nodding on the verge。 Here also a
rugged; horizontal tunnel ran straight into the unsunned
bowels of the rock。 This secure angle in the mountain's
flank was; even on this wild day; as still as my lady's
chamber。 But in the tunnel a cold; wet draught tempestuously
blew。 Nor have I ever known that place otherwise than cold
and windy。
Such was our fist prospect of Juan Silverado。 I own I had
looked for something different: a clique of neighbourly
houses on a village green; we shall say; all empty to be
sure; but swept and varnished; a trout stream brawling by;
great elms or chestnuts; humming with bees and nested in by
song…birds; and the mountains standing round about; as at
Jerusalem。 Here; mountain and house and the old tools of
industry were all alike rusty and downfalling。 The hill was
here wedged up; and there poured forth its bowels in a spout
of broken mineral; man with his picks and powder; and nature
with her own great blasting tools of sun and rain; labouring
together at the ruin of that proud mountain。 The view up the
canyon was a glimpse of devastation; dry red minerals sliding
together; here and there a crag; here and there dwarf thicket
clinging in the general glissade; and over all a broken
outline trenching on the blue of heaven。 Downwards indeed;
from our rock eyrie; we behold the greener side of nature;
and the bearing of the pines and the sweet smell of bays and
nutmegs commanded themselves gratefully to our senses。 One
way and another; now the die was cast。 Silverado be it!
After we had got back to the Toll House; the Jews were not
long of striking forward。 But I observed that one of the
Hanson lads came down; before their departure; and returned
with a ship's kettle。 Happy Hansons! Nor was it until after
Kelmar was gone; if I remember rightly; that Rufe put in an
appearance to arrange the details of our installation。
The latter part of the day; Fanny and I sat in the verandah
of the Toll House; utterly stunned by the uproar of the wind
among the trees on the other side of the valley。 Sometimes;
we would have it it was like a sea; but it was not various
enough for that; and again; we thought it like the roar of a
cataract; but it was too changeful for the cataract; and then
we would decide; speaking in sleepy voices; that it could be
compared with nothing but itself。 My mind was entirely
preoccupied by the noise。 I hearkened to it by the hour;
gapingly hearkened; and let my cigarette go out。 Sometimes
the wind would make a sally nearer hand; and send a shrill;
whistling crash among the foliage on our side of the glen;
and sometimes a back…draught would strike into the elbow
where we sat; and cast the gravel and torn leaves into our
faces。 But for the most part; this great; streaming gale
passed unweariedly by us into Napa Valley; not two hundred
yards away; visible by the tossing boughs; stunningly
audible; and yet not moving a hair upon our heads。 So it
blew all night long while I was writing up my journal; and
after we were in bed; under a cloudless; starset heaven; and
so it was blowing still next morning when we rose。
It was a laughable thought to us; what had become of our
cheerful; wandering Hebrews。 We could not suppose they had
reached a destination。 The meanest boy could lead them miles
out of their way to see a gopher…hole。 Boys; we felt to be
their special danger; none others were of that exact pitch of
cheerful irrelevancy to exercise a kindred sway upon their
minds: but before the attractions of a boy their most
settled resolutions would be war。 We thought we could follow
in fancy these three aged Hebrew truants wandering in and out
on hilltop and in thicket; a demon boy trotting far ahead;
their will…o'…the…wisp conductor; and at last about midnight;
the wind still roaring in the darkness; we had a vision of
all three on their knees upon a mountain…top around a glow…
worm。
CHAPTER III。 THE RETURN
NEXT morning we were up by half…past five; according to
agreement; and it was ten by the clock before our Jew boys
returned to pick us up。 Kelmar; Mrs。 Kelmar; and Abramina;
all smiling from ear to ear; and full of tales of the
hospitality they had found on the other side。 It had not
gone unrewarded; for I observed with interest that the ship's
kettles; all but one; had been 〃placed。〃 Three Lake County
families; at least; endowed for life with a ship's kettle。
Come; this was no misspent Sunday。 The absence of the
kettles told its own story: our Jews said nothing about
them; but; on the other hand; they said many kind and comely
things about the people they had met。 The two women; in
particular; had been charmed out of themselves by the sight
of a young girl surrounded by her admirers; all evening; it
appeared; they had been triumphing together in the girl's
innocent successes; and to this natural and unselfish joy
they gave expression in language that was beautiful by its
simplicity and truth。
Take them for all in all; few people have done my heart more
good; they seemed so thoroughly entitled to happiness; and to
enjoy it in so large a measure and so free from after…
thought; almost they persuaded me to be a Jew。 There was;
indeed; a chink of money in their talk。 They particularly
commanded people who were well to do。 〃HE don't care … ain't
it?〃 was their highest word of commendation to an individual
fate; and here I seem to grasp the root of their philosophy …
it was to be free from care; to be free to make these Sunday
wanderings; that they so eagerly pursued after wealth; and
all this carefulness was to be careless。 The fine; good
humour of all three seemed to declare they had attained their
end。 Yet there was the other side to it; and the recipients
of kettles perhaps cared greatly。
No sooner had they returned; than the scene of yesterday
began again。 The horses were not even tied with a straw rope
this time … it was not worth while; and Kelmar disappeared
into the bar; leaving them under a tree on the other side of
the road。 I had to devote myself。 I stood under the shadow
of that tree for; I suppose; hard upon an hour; and had not
the heart to be angry。 Once some one remembered me; and
brought me out half a tumblerful of the playful; innocuous
American cocktail。 I drank it; and lo! veins of living fire
ran down my leg; and then a focus of conflagration remained
seated in my stomach; not unpleasantly; for quarter of an
hour。 I love these sweet; fiery pangs; but I will not court
them。 The bulk of the time I spent in repeating as much
French poetry as I could remember to the horses; who seemed
to enjoy it hugely。 And now it went …
〃O ma vieille Font…georges
Ou volent les rouges…gorges:〃
and again; to a more trampling measure …
〃Et tout tremble; Irun; Coimbre;
Sautander; Almodovar;
Sitot qu'on entend le timbre
Des cymbales do Bivar。〃
The redbreasts and the brooks of Europe; in that dry and
songless land; brave old names and wars; strong cities;
cymbals; and bright armour; in that nook of the mountain;
sacred only to the Indian and the bear! This is still the
strangest thing in all man's travelling; that he should carry
about with him incongruous memories。 There is no foreign
land; it is the traveller only that is foreign; and now and
again; by a flash of recollection; lights up the contrasts of
the earth。
But while I was thus wandering in my fancy; great feats had
been transacted in the bar。
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