the enchanted bluff-第1章
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The Enchanted Bluff
We had our swim before sundown; and while we were cooking our
supper the oblique rays of light made a dazzling glare on the white
sand about us。 The translucent red ball itself sank behind the
brown stretches of cornfield as we sat down to eat; and the warm
layer of air that had rested over the water and our clean sand bar
grew fresher and smelled of the rank ironweed and sunflowers
growing on the flatter shore。 The river was brown and sluggish;
like any other of the half…dozen streams that water the Nebraska
corn lands。 On one shore was an irregular line of bald clay bluffs
where a few scrub oaks with thick trunks and flat; twisted tops
threw light shadows on the long grass。 The western shore was low
and level; with cornfields that stretched to the skyline; and all
along the water's edge were little sandy coves and beaches where
slim cottonwoods and willow saplings flickered。
The turbulence of the river in springtime discouraged milling;
and; beyond keeping the old red bridge in repair; the busy farmers
did not concern themselves with the stream; so the Sandtown boys
were left in undisputed possession。 In the autumn we hunted quail
through the miles of stubble and fodder land along the flat shore;
and; after the winter skating season was over and the ice had gone
out; the spring freshets and flooded bottoms gave us our great
excitement of the year。 The channel was never the same for two
successive seasons。 Every spring the swollen stream undermined a
bluff to the east; or bit out a few acres of cornfield to the west
and whirled the soil away; to deposit it in spumy mud banks
somewhere else。 When the water fell low in midsummer; new sand
bars were thus exposed to dry and whiten in the August sun。
Sometimes these were banked so firmly that the fury of the next
freshet failed to unseat them; the little willow seedlings emerged
triumphantly from the yellow froth; broke into spring leaf; shot up
into summer growth; and with their mesh of roots bound together the
moist sand beneath them against the batterings of another April。
Here and there a cottonwood soon glittered among them; quivering in
the low current of air that; even on breathless days when the dust
hung like smoke above the wagon road; trembled along the face of
the water。
It was on such an island; in the third summer of its yellow
green; that we built our watch fire; not in the thicket of dancing
willow wands; but on the level terrace of fine sand which had been
added that spring; a little new bit of world; beautifully ridged
with ripple marks; and strewn with the tiny skeletons of turtles
and fish; all as white and dry as if they had been expertly cured。
We had been careful not to mar the freshness of the place; although
we often swam to it on summer evenings and lay on the sand to rest。
This was our last watch fire of the year; and there were
reasons why I should remember it better than any of the others。
Next week the other boys were to file back to their old places in
the Sandtown High School; but I was to go up to the Divide to teach
my first country school in the Norwegian district。 I was already
homesick at the thought of quitting the boys with whom I had always
played; of leaving the river; and going up into a windy plain that
was all windmills and cornfields and big pastures; where there was
nothing wilful or unmanageable in the landscape; no new islands;
and no chance of unfamiliar birdssuch as often followed the
watercourses。
Other boys came and went and used the river for fishing or
skating; but we six were sworn to the spirit of the stream; and we
were friends mainly because of the river。 There were the two
Hassler boys; Fritz and Otto; sons of the little German tailor。
They were the youngest of us; ragged boys of ten and twelve; with
sunburned hair; weather…stained faces; and pale blue eyes。 Otto;
the elder; was the best mathematician in school; and clever
at his books; but he always dropped out in the spring term as if
the river could not get on without him。 He and Fritz caught the
fat; horned catfish and sold them about the town; and they lived
so much in the water that they were as brown and sandy as the river
itself。
There was Percy Pound; a fat; freckled boy with chubby cheeks;
who took half a dozen boys' story…papers and was always being kept
in for reading detective stories behind his desk。 There was Tip
Smith; destined by his freckles and red hair to be the buffoon in
all our games; though he walked like a timid little old man and had
a funny; cracked laugh。 Tip worked hard in his father's grocery
store every afternoon; and swept it out before school in the
morning。 Even his recreations were laborious。 He collected
cigarette cards and tin tobacco…tags indefatigably; and would sit
for hours humped up over a snarling little scroll…saw which he kept
in his attic。 His dearest possessions were some little pill
bottles that purported to contain grains of wheat from the Holy
Land; water from the Jordan and the Dead Sea; and earth from the
Mount of Olives。 His father had bought these dull things from a
Baptist missionary who peddled them; and Tip seemed to derive great
satisfaction from their remote origin。
The tall boy was Arthur Adams。 He had fine hazel eves that
were almost too reflective and sympathetic for a boy; and such a
pleasant voice that we all loved to hear him read aloud。 Even when
he had to read poetry aloud at school; no one ever thought of
laughing。 To be sure; he was not at school very much of the time。
He was seventeen and should have finished the High School the year
before; but he was always off somewhere with his gun。 Arthur's
mother was dead; and his father; who was feverishly absorbed in
promoting schemes; wanted to send the boy away to school and get
him off his hands; but Arthur always begged off for another year
and promised to study。 I remember him as a tall; brown boy with an
intelligent face; always lounging among a lot of us little fellows;
laughing at us oftener than with us; but such a soft; satisfied
laugh that we felt rather flattered when we provoked it。 In
after…years people said that Arthur had been given to evil ways
as a 'ad; and it is true that we often saw him with the gambler's
sons and with old Spanish Fanny's boy; but if he learned anything
ugly in their company he never betrayed it to us。 We would have
followed Arthur anywhere; and I am bound to say that he led us into
no worse places than the cattail marshes and the stubble fields。
These; then; were the boys who camped with me that summer night
upon the sand bar。
After we finished our supper we beat the willow thicket for
driftwood。 By the time we had collected enough; night had fallen;
and the pungent; weedy smell from the shore increased with the
coolness。 We threw ourselves down about the fire and made another
futile effort to show Percy Pound the Little Dipper。 We had tried
it often before; but he could never be got past the big one。
〃You see those three big stars just below the handle; with the
bright one in the middle?〃 said Otto Hassler; 〃that's Orion's belt;
and the bright one is the clasp。〃 I crawled behind Otto's shoulder
and sighted up his arm to the star that seemed perched upon the tip
of his steady forefinger。 The Hassler boys did seine…fishing at
night; and they knew a good many stars。
Percy gave up