a phyllis of the sierras-第1章
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A Phyllis Of The Sierras
by Bret Harte
CHAPTER I。
Where the great highway of the Sierras nears the summit; and the
pines begin to show sterile reaches of rock and waste in their
drawn…up files; there are signs of occasional departures from the
main road; as if the weary traveller had at times succumbed to the
long ascent; and turned aside for rest and breath again。 The tired
eyes of many a dusty passenger on the old overland coach have gazed
wistfully on those sylvan openings; and imagined recesses of
primeval shade and virgin wilderness in their dim perspectives。
Had he descended; however; and followed one of these diverging
paths; he would have come upon some rude wagon track; or 〃logslide;〃
leading from a clearing on the slope; or the ominous saw…mill; half
hidden in the forest it was slowly decimating。 The woodland hush
might have been broken by the sound of water passing over some
unseen dam in the hollow; or the hiss of escaping steam and throb of
an invisible engine in the covert。
Such; at least; was the experience of a young fellow of five…and…
twenty; who; knapsack on back and stick in hand; had turned aside
from the highway and entered the woods one pleasant afternoon in
July。 But he was evidently a deliberate pedestrian; and not a
recent deposit of the proceeding stage…coach; and although his
stout walking…shoes were covered with dust; he had neither the
habitual slouch and slovenliness of the tramp; nor the hurried
fatigue and growing negligence of an involuntary wayfarer。 His
clothes; which were strong and serviceable; were better fitted for
their present usage than the ordinary garments of the Californian
travellers; which were too apt to be either above or below their
requirements。 But perhaps the stranger's greatest claim to
originality was the absence of any weapon in his equipment。 He
carried neither rifle nor gun in his hand; and his narrow leathern
belt was empty of either knife or revolver。
A half…mile from the main road; which seemed to him to have dropped
out of sight the moment he had left it; he came upon a half…cleared
area; where the hastily…cut stumps of pines; of irregular height;
bore an odd resemblance to the broken columns of some vast and
ruined temple。 A few fallen shafts; denuded of their bark and
tessellated branches; sawn into symmetrical cylinders; lay beside
the stumps; and lent themselves to the illusion。 But the freshly…
cut chips; so damp that they still clung in layers to each other as
they had fallen from the axe; and the stumps themselves; still wet
and viscous from their drained life…blood; were redolent of an odor
of youth and freshness。
The young man seated himself on one of the logs and deeply inhaled
the sharp balsamic fragrancealbeit with a slight cough and a
later hurried respiration。 This; and a certain drawn look about
his upper lip; seemed to indicate; in spite of his strength and
color; some pulmonary weakness。 He; however; rose after a moment's
rest with undiminished energy and cheerfulness; readjusted his
knapsack; and began to lightly pick his way across the fallen
timber。 A few paces on; the muffled whir of machinery became more
audible; with the lazy; monotonous command of 〃Gee thar;〃 from some
unseen ox…driver。 Presently; the slow; deliberately…swaying heads
of a team of oxen emerged from the bushes; followed by the clanking
chain of the 〃skids〃 of sawn planks; which they were ponderously
dragging with that ostentatious submissiveness peculiar to their
species。 They had nearly passed him when there was a sudden hitch
in the procession。 From where he stood he could see that a
projecting plank had struck a pile of chips and become partly
imbedded in it。 To run to the obstruction and; with a few
dexterous strokes and the leverage of his stout stick; dislodge the
plank was the work not only of the moment but of an evidently
energetic hand。 The teamster looked back and merely nodded his
appreciation; and with a 〃Gee up! Out of that; now!〃 the skids
moved on。
〃Much obliged; there!〃 said a hearty voice; as if supplementing the
teamster's imperfect acknowledgment。
The stranger looked up。 The voice came from the open; sashless;
shutterless window of a rude buildinga mere shell of boards and
beams half hidden in the still leafy covert before him。 He had
completely overlooked it in his approach; even as he had ignored
the nearer throbbing of the machinery; which was so violent as to
impart a decided tremor to the slight edifice; and to shake the
speaker so strongly that he was obliged while speaking to steady
himself by the sashless frame of the window at which he stood。 He
had a face of good…natured and alert intelligence; a master's
independence and authority of manner; in spite of his blue jean
overalls and flannel shirt。
〃Don't mention it;〃 said the stranger; smiling with equal but more
deliberate good…humor。 Then; seeing that his interlocutor still
lingered a hospitable moment in spite of his quick eyes and the
jarring impatience of the machinery; he added hesitatingly; 〃I
fancy I've wandered off the track a bit。 Do you know a Mr。
Bradleysomewhere here?〃
The stranger's hesitation seemed to be more from some habitual
conscientiousness of statement than awkwardness。 The man in the
window replied; 〃I'm Bradley。〃
〃Ah! Thank you: I've a letter for yousomewhere。 Here it is。〃 He
produced a note from his breast…pocket。 Bradley stooped to a
sitting posture in the window。 〃Pitch it up。〃 It was thrown and
caught cleverly。 Bradley opened it; read it hastily; smiled and
nodded; glanced behind him as if to implore further delay from the
impatient machinery; leaned perilously from the window; and said;
〃Look here! Do you see that silver…fir straight ahead?〃
〃Yes。〃
〃A little to the left there's a trail。 Follow it and skirt along
the edge of the canyon until you see my house。 Ask for my wife
that's Mrs。 Bradleyand give her your letter。 Stop!〃 He drew a
carpenter's pencil from his pocket; scrawled two or three words
across the open sheet and tossed it back to the stranger。 〃See you
at tea! Excuse meMr。 Mainwaringwe're short…handedandthe
engine〃 But here he disappeared suddenly。
Without glancing at the note again; the stranger quietly replaced
it in his pocket; and struck out across the fallen trunks towards
the silver…fir。 He quickly found the trail indicated by Bradley;
although it was faint and apparently worn by a single pair of feet
as a shorter and private cut from some more travelled path。 It was
well for the stranger that he had a keen eye or he would have lost
it; it was equally fortunate that he had a mountaineering instinct;
for a sudden profound deepening of the blue mist seen dimly through
the leaves before him caused him to slacken his steps。 The trail
bent abruptly to the right; a gulf fully two thousand feet deep was
at his feet! It was the Great Canyon。
At the first glance it seemed so narrow that a rifle…shot could
have crossed its tranquil depths; but a second look at the
comparative size of the trees on the opposite mountain convinced
him of his error。 A nearer survey of the abyss also showed him
that instead of its walls being perpendicular they were made of
successive ledges or terraces to the valley below。 Yet the air was
so still; and the outlines so clearly cut; that they might have
been only the reflections of the mountains around him cast upon
the placid mirror of a lake。 The spectacle arrested him; as it
arrested all men; by some occult power beyond the mere attraction
of beauty or magnitude; even the teamster never passed it without
the tribute of a stone or broken twig tossed into its immeasurable
profundity。
Reluctantly leaving the spot; the stranger turned with the trail
that now began to skirt its edge。 This was no easy matter; as the
undergrowth was v