on the frontier-第26部分

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fury　had　cooled　down　to　a　frigid　third　personality。　　〃Mr。　John　Ford

regrets　to　inform　his　late　partners　that　their　tender　of　house；　of

furniture；〃　however；　seemed　too　inconsistent　with　the　pork…barrel

table　he　was　writing　on；　a　more　eloquent　renunciation　of　their

offer　became　frivolous　and　idiotic　from　a　caricature　of　Union

Mills；　label　and　all；　that　appeared　suddenly　on　the　other　side　of

the　leaf；　and　when　he　at　last　indited　a　satisfactory　and

impassioned　exposition　of　his　feelings；　the　legible　addendum　of

〃Oh；　ain't　you　glad　you're　out　of　the　wilderness！〃the　forgotten

first　line　of　a　popular　song；　which　no　scratching　would　erase

seemed　too　like　an　ironical　postscript　to　be　thought　of　for　a

moment。　　He　threw　aside　his　pen　and　cast　the　discordant　record　of

past　foolish　pastime　into　the　dead　ashes　of　the　hearth。



How　quiet　it　was。　　With　the　cessation　of　the　rain　the　wind　too　had

gone　down；　and　scarcely　a　breath　of　air　came　through　the　open　door。

He　walked　to　the　threshold　and　gazed　on　the　hushed　prospect。　　In

this　listless　attitude　he　was　faintly　conscious　of　a　distant

reverberation；　a　mere　phantom　of　soundperhaps　the　explosion　of　a

distant　blast　in　the　hillsthat　left　the　silence　more　marked　and

oppressive。　　As　he　turned　again　into　the　cabin　a　change　seemed　to

have　come　over　it。　　It　already　looked　old　and　decayed。　　The

loneliness　of　years　of　desertion　seemed　to　have　taken　possession　of

it；　the　atmosphere　of　dry　rot　was　in　the　beams　and　rafters。　　To　his

excited　fancy　the　few　disordered　blankets　and　articles　of　clothing

seemed　dropping　to　pieces；　in　one　of　the　bunks　there　was　a　hideous

resemblance　in　the　longitudinal　heap　of　clothing　to　a　withered　and

mummied　corpse。　　So　it　might　look　in　after　years　when　some　passing

strangerbut　he　stopped。　　A　dread　of　the　place　was　beginning　to

creep　over　him；　a　dread　of　the　days　to　come；　when　the　monotonous

sunshine　should　lay　bare　the　loneliness　of　these　walls；　the　long；

long　days　of　endless　blue　and　cloudless；　overhanging　solitude；

summer　days　when　the　wearying；　incessant　trade　winds　should　sing

around　that　empty　shell　and　voice　its　desolation。　　He　gathered

together　hastily　a　few　articles　that　were　especially　his　own

rather　that　the　free　communion　of　the　camp；　from　indifference　or

accident；　had　left　wholly　to　him。　　He　hesitated　for　a　moment　over

his　rifle；　but；　scrupulous　in　his　wounded　pride；　turned　away　and

left　the　familiar　weapon　that　in　the　dark　days　had　so　often

provided　the　dinner　or　breakfast　of　the　little　household。　　Candor

compels　me　to　state　that　his　equipment　was　not　large　nor　eminently

practical。　　His　scant　pack　was　a　light　weight　for　even　his　young

shoulders；　but　I　fear　he　thought　more　of　getting　away　from　the　Past

than　providing　for　the　Future。



With　this　vague　but　sole　purpose　he　left　the　cabin；　and　almost

mechanically　turned　his　steps　towards　the　creek　he　had　crossed　that

morning。　　He　knew　that　by　this　route　he　would　avoid　meeting　his

companions；　its　difficulties　and　circuitousness　would　exercise　his

feverish　limbs　and　give　him　time　for　reflection。　　He　had　determined

to　leave　the　claim；　but　whence　he　had　not　yet　considered。　　He

reached　the　bank　of　the　creek　where　he　had　stood　two　hours　before；

it　seemed　to　him　two　years。　　He　looked　curiously　at　his　reflection

in　one　of　the　broad　pools　of　overflow；　and　fancied　he　looked　older。

He　watched　the　rush　and　outset　of　the　turbid　current　hurrying　to

meet　the　South　Fork；　and　to　eventually　lose　itself　in　the　yellow

Sacramento。　　Even　in　his　preoccupation　he　was　impressed　with　a

likeness　to　himself　and　his　companions　in　this　flood　that　had　burst

its　peaceful　boundaries。　　In　the　drifting　fragments　of　one　of　their

forgotten　flumes　washed　from　the　bank；　he　fancied　he　saw　an　omen　of

the　disintegration　and　decay　of　the　Lone　Star　claim。



The　strange　hush　in　the　air　that　he　had　noticed　beforea　calm　so

inconsistent　with　that　hour　and　the　season　as　to　seem　portentous

became　more　marked　in　contrast　to　the　feverish　rush　of　the

turbulent　water…course。　　A　few　clouds　lazily　huddled　in　the　west

apparently　had　gone　to　rest　with　the　sun　on　beds　of　somnolent

poppies。　　There　was　a　gleam　as　of　golden　water　everywhere　along　the

horizon；　washing　out　the　cold　snowpeaks；　and　drowning　even　the

rising　moon。　　The　creek　caught　it　here　and　there；　until；　in　grim

irony；　it　seemed　to　bear　their　broken　sluice…boxes　and　useless

engines　on　the　very　Pactolian　stream　they　had　been　hopefully

created　to　direct　and　carry。　　But　by　some　peculiar　trick　of　the

atmosphere；　the　perfect　plenitude　of　that　golden　sunset　glory　was

lavished　on　the　rugged　sides　and　tangled　crest　of　the　Lone　Star

mountain。　　That　isolated　peak；　the　landmark　of　their　claim；　the

gaunt　monument　of　their　folly；　transfigured　in　the　evening

splendor；　kept　its　radiance　unquenched　long　after　the　glow　had

fallen　from　the　encompassing　skies；　and　when　at　last　the　rising

moon；　step　by　step；　put　out　the　fires　along　the　winding　valley　and

plains；　and　crept　up　the　bosky　sides　of　the　canyon；　the　vanishing

sunset　was　lost　only　to　reappear　as　a　golden　crown。



The　eyes　of　the　young　man　were　fixed　upon　it　with　more　than　a

momentary　picturesque　interest。　　It　had　been　the　favorite　ground　of

his　prospecting　exploits；　its　lowest　flank　had　been　scarred　in　the

old　enthusiastic　days　with　hydraulic　engines；　or　pierced　with

shafts；　but　its　central　position　in　the　claim　and　its　superior

height　had　always　given　it　a　commanding　view　of　the　extent　of　their

valley　and　its　approaches；　and　it　was　this　practical　pre…eminence

that　alone　attracted　him　at　that　moment。　　He　knew　that　from　its

crest　he　would　be　able　to　distinguish　the　figures　of　his　companions；

as　they　crossed　the　valley　near　the　cabin；　in　the　growing　moonlight。

Thus　he　could　avoid　encountering　them　on　his　way　to　the　high　road；

and　yet　see　them；　perhaps；　for　the　last　time。　　Even　in　his　sense　of

injury　there　was　a　strange　satisfaction　in　the　thought。



The　ascent　was　toilsome；　but　familiar。　　All　along　the　dim　trail　he

was　accompanied　by　gentler　memories　of　the　past；　that　seemed；　like

the　faint　odor　of　spiced　leaves　and　fragrant　grasses　wet　with　the

rain　and　crushed　beneath　his　ascending　tread；　to　exhale　the　sweeter

perfume　in　his　effort　to　subdue　or　rise　above　them。　　There　was　the

thicket　of　manzanita；　where　they　had　broken　noonday　bread　together；

here　was　the　rock　beside　their　maiden　shaft；　where　they　had　poured

a　wild　libation　in　boyish　enthusiasm　of　success；　and　here　the　ledge

where　their　first　flag；　a　red　shirt　heroically　sacrificed；　was

displayed　from　a　long…handled　shovel　to　the　gaze　of　admirers　below。

When　he　at　last　reached　the　summit；　the　mysterious　hush　was　still

in　the　air；　as　if　in　breathless　sympathy　with　his　expedition。　　In

the　west；　the　plain　was　faintly　illuminated；　but　disclosed　no

moving　figures。　　He　turned　towards　the　rising　moon；　and　moved

slowly　to　the　eastern　edge。　　Suddenly　he　stopped。　　Another　step

would　have　been　his　last！　　He　stood　upon　the　crumbling　edge　of　a

precipice。　　A　landslip　had　taken　place　on　the　eastern　flank；

leaving　the　gaunt　ribs　and　fleshless　bones　of　Lone　Star　mountain

bare　in　the　moonlight。　　He　understood　now　the　strange　rumble　and

reverberation　he　had　heard；　he　understood　now　the　strange　hush　of

bird　and　beast　in　brake　and　thicket！



Although　a　single　rapid　glance　convinced　him　that　the　slide　had

taken　place　in　an　unfrequented　part　of　the　mountain；　above　an

inaccessible　canyon；　and　reflection　assured　him　his　companions

could　not　have　reached　that　distance　when　it　took　place；　a　feverish

impulse　led　him　to　descend　a　few　rods　in　the　track　of　the

avalanche。　　The　frequent　recurrence　of　outcrop　and　angle　made　this

comparatively　easy。　　Here　he　called　aloud；　the　feeble　echo　of　his

own　voice　seemed　only　a　dull　impertinence　to　the　significant

silence。　　He　turned　to　reascend；　the　furrowed　flank　of　the　mountain

before　him　lay　full　in　the　moonlight。　　To　his　excited　fancy；　a

dozen　luminous　star…like　points　in　the　rocky　crevices　started　into

life　as　he　faced　them。　　Throwing　his　arm　over　the　ledge　above　him；

he　supported　himself　for　a　moment　by　what　appeared　to　be　a

projection　of　the　solid　rock。　　It　trembled　slightly。　　As　he　raised

himself　to　its　level；　his　heart　stopped　beating。　　It　was　simply　a

fragment　detached　from　the　outcrop；　lying　loosely　on　the　ledge　but

upholding　him　by　ITS　OWN　WEIGHT　ONLY。　　He　examined　it　with

trembling　fingers；　the　encumbering　soil　fell　from　its　sides　and

left　its　smoothed　and　worn　protuberances　glistening　in　the

moonlight。　　It　was　virgin　gold！



Looking　back　upon　that　moment　afterwards；　he　remembered　that　he　was

not　dazed；　dazzled；　or　startled。　　It　did　not　come　to　him　as　a

discovery　or　an　accident；　a　stroke　of　chance　or　a　caprice　of

fortune。　　He　saw　it　all　in　that　supreme　moment；　Nature　had　worked

out　their　poor　deduction。　　What　their　feeble　engines　had　essayed

spasmodically　and　helplessly　against　the　curtain　of　soil