All Gold Ca?on1

黄金谷

It was the green heart of the ca? on, where the walls swerved back from the rigid plan and relieved their harshness of line by making a little sheltered nook and filling it to the brim with sweetness and roundness and softness. Here all things rested. Even the narrow stream ceased its turbulent down—rush long enough to form a quiet pool. Knee—deep in the water, with drooping head and half—shut eyes, drowsed a red—coated, many—antlered buck.

这是峡谷的绿色心脏，轮廓僵硬的岩壁到了这里突然一改粗犷的线条，构成了一个隐蔽的小天地，充溢着美好、丰富和柔和。这里的一切都在安歇。甚至连狭长的小溪也停止了湍急的水流，慢慢形成了一个静谧的水塘。有一只红色的、角上枝杈很多的公鹿站在没过膝盖的水中，耷拉着脑袋，半闭着眼睛，正打着盹。

On one side, beginning at the very lip of the pool, was a tiny meadow, a cool, resilient surface of green that extended to the base of the frowning wall. Beyond the pool a gentle slope of earth ran up and up to meet the opposing wall. Fine grass covered the slope—grass that was spangled with flowers, with here and there patches of color, orange and purple and golden. Below, the ca? on was shut in. There was no view. The walls leaned together abruptly and the ca? on ended in a chaos of rocks, moss—covered and hidden by a green screen of vines and creepers and boughs of trees. Up the ca? on rose far hills and peaks, the big foot—hills, pine—covered and remote. And far beyond, like clouds upon the border of the sky, towered minarets of white, where the Sierra's eternal snows flashed austerely the blazes of the sun.

水塘的一边，是一片很小的草地，凉爽柔韧的绿茵从水边一直延伸到险峻的岩壁底下。水塘的那边是一片平缓的斜坡，一直迎着对面的岩壁向上延伸。斜坡上长满了小草，草间点缀着小花，处处绚丽多彩，有橘红色的，有紫红色的，也有金黄色的。斜坡下面，峡谷被围在其中。视野也被遮挡了。岩壁突兀地靠拢，在峡谷的尽头，长满青苔的乱石纵横交错，被一片由藤蔓、匍匐枝和大树枝结成的绿幕遮掩着。从峡谷上方眺望，远处山峦叠嶂，还有座座遥远的长满松树的山麓。更远处，高耸着尖塔似的银峰，就像天边的云朵，那是终年覆盖的积雪，它们一丝不苟地反射着太阳的光芒。

There was no dust in the ca? on. The leaves and flowers were clean and virginal. The grass was young velvet. Over the pool three cottonwoods sent their snowy fluffs fluttering down the quiet air. On the slope the blossoms of the wine—wooded manzanita filled the air with springtime odors, while the leaves, wise with experience, were already beginning their vertical twist against the coming aridity of summer. In the open spaces on the slope, beyond the farthest shadow—reach of the manzanita, poised the mariposa lilies, like so many flights of jewelled moths suddenly arrested and on the verge of trembling into flight again. Here and there that woods harlequin, the madrone, permitting itself to be caught in the act of changing its pea—green trunk to madder—red, breathed its fragrance into the air from great clusters of waxen bells. Creamy white were these bells, shaped like lilies—of—the—valley, with the sweetness of perfume that is of the springtime.

峡谷中没有半点尘土。叶子和花都干净无暇。嫩嫩的小草好像天鹅绒。水塘上有三棵杨树，雪白的杨花在寂静的空气中飘舞。斜坡上，飘着酒味的石兰木的花朵，使空气中充满着春天的气息，而聪明的叶子，由于经验丰富，已经开始竖卷起来，以抵抗即将来临的夏日干旱。在斜坡上的空旷地带，在石兰木最远的阴影触及不到的地方，美丽大百合摆好姿势，像许多突然停下来的色彩斑斓的蛾子似的，抖动着翅膀想要再次起飞。到处都有浆果鹃——树木中的丑角，它们的枝干在大家的注视下由青豆色变成茜草色，它们那大丛大丛的蜡似的花铃向空气中吐出芳香的气息。这些花铃颜色乳白，貌似山谷中的百合，散发着春天的气息，甜蜜芬芳。

There was not a sigh of wind. The air was drowsy with its weight of perfume. It was a sweetness that would have been cloying had the air been heavy and humid. But the air was sharp and thin. It was as starlight transmuted into atmosphere, shot through and warmed by sunshine, and flower—drenched with sweetness.

没有一丝风。空气中香气浓郁，醉人心脾。如果空气厚重又潮湿的话，那么这样的芳香或许会让人厌烦。但是空气清新又稀薄。好像星光融入到大气里一样，被太阳照得暖洋洋的，浸满花香。

An occasional butterfly drifted in and out through the patches of light and shade. And from all about rose the low and sleepy hum of mountain bees—feasting Sybarites that jostled one another good—naturedly at the board, nor found time for rough discourtesy. So quietly did the little stream drip and ripple its way through the ca? on that it spoke only in faint and occasional gurgles. The voice of the stream was as a drowsy whisper, ever interrupted by dozings and silences, ever lifted again in the awakenings.

有时会有一只蝴蝶在或明或暗的光带里飞来飞去。周围响起了山蜂低沉的使人昏昏欲睡的嗡嗡声，这些贪图享乐的家伙在宴会上和气地互相推挤着，连粗鲁争执的闲暇也没有。小溪潺潺地流过峡谷，非常安静，只偶尔发出微弱的汩汩声。小溪的声音就像是昏昏欲睡时的低语，经常是一打瞌睡就没了声息，一醒过来又提高了声调。

The motion of all things was a drifting in the heart of the ca? on. Sunshine and butterflies drifted in and out among the trees. The hum of the bees and the whisper of the stream were a drifting of sound. And the drifting sound and drifting color seemed to weave together in the making of a delicate and intangible fabric which was the spirit of the place. It was a spirit of peace that was not of death, but of smooth—pulsing life, of quietude that was not silence, of movement that was not action, of repose that was quick with existence without being violent with struggle and travail. The spirit of the place was the spirit of the peace of the living, somnolent with the easement and content of prosperity, and undisturbed by rumors of far wars.

一切事物的动作在这个峡谷的心脏中，都是漂移不定的。阳光和蝴蝶在树林中时而飘进时而飘出。蜜蜂的嗡嗡声和小溪的低语时有时无。这种时有时无的声音和不断变换的色彩交织在一起，织成了一片精美的、不可捉摸的轻纱，这正是这个地方的精神。这是宁静祥和的精神，不代表死亡，只意味着脉搏平稳的生命，寂静而不是无声，活跃而没有行动，是充满生机的安歇，没有激烈的争斗和艰苦的劳动。这个地方的精神是祥和的精神，充满生机，是沉醉于繁荣中的安逸和满足，不会受到远方战争谣言的搅扰。

The red—coated, many—antlered buck acknowledged the lordship of the spirit of the place and dozed knee—deep in the cool, shaded pool. There seemed no flies to vex him and he was languid with rest. Sometimes his ears moved when the stream awoke and whispered; but they moved lazily, with foreknowledge that it was merely the stream grown garrulous at discovery that it had slept.

那只红色的、角上枝杈很多的公鹿被这个地方的这种精神支配着，在没过膝盖的阴凉水塘中打着盹。那里似乎没有苍蝇烦扰它，它懒洋洋地歇着。当小溪醒来低语的时候，它会动动耳朵，不过只是懒洋洋地动一动，因为它早就知道，那是小溪发现它睡着了在唠叨它而已。

But there came a time when the buck's ears lifted and tensed with swift eagerness for sound. His head was turned down the ca? on. His sensitive, quivering nostrils scented the air. His eyes could not pierce the green screen through which the stream rippled away, but to his ears came the voice of a man. It was a steady, monotonous, singsong voice. Once the buck heard the harsh clash of metal upon rock. At the sound he snorted with a sudden start that jerked him through the air from water to meadow, and his feet sank into the young velvet, while he pricked his ears and again scented the air. Then he stole across the tiny meadow, pausing once and again to listen, and faded away out of the ca? on like a wraith, soft—footed and without sound.

但是有一次，公鹿竖起了耳朵，紧张地想要快速找到声音的出处。它把头转向下面的峡谷。它扇动着灵敏的鼻翼嗅着空气。它的眼睛不能看穿小溪穿流过的绿幕，但是它的耳朵听到了人的声音。那是平缓单调的唱歌声。然后这只公鹿听到了金属撞击岩石的刺耳的声音。一听到这个声音，它猛然一惊，喷着鼻息，马上腾空而起，从水中跃到草地上，将四足陷在天鹅绒般的草地里，竖起耳朵，再次嗅着空气。然后它悄悄地穿过那一小片草地，不时停下来倾听，像个幽灵似的，步伐轻巧，没有声息，逐渐消失在峡谷外面。

The clash of steel—shod soles against the rocks began to be heard, and the man's voice grew louder. It was raised in a sort of chant and became distinct with nearness, so that the words could be heard:

如今，能够听到钉着铁掌的鞋底踩在岩石上的声响了，那个人的声音也更响了。那声音变成了放声唱歌的声音，离得越近就越清楚，所以连歌词都能听清了：

"Tu 'n around an't u' n yo 'face Untoe them sweet hills of grace (D' pow 'rs of sin yo' am scornin '! ). Look about an' look aroun’, Fling yo 'sin—pack on d' groun’ (Yo 'will meet wid d' Lord in d 'mornin'! ).”

“转过身来扭过你的脸，面对着那美妙的山峦，（你要蔑视那罪恶的力量！）看看四周再望望四方，把罪恶的包裹抛到地上。（清早你就会遇到上帝！）”

A sound of scrambling accompanied the song, and the spirit of the place fled away on the heels of the red—coated buck. The green screen was burst asunder, and a man peered out at the meadow and the pool and the sloping side—hill. He was a deliberate sort of man. He took in the scene with one embracing glance, then ran his eyes over the details to verify the general impression. Then, and not until then, did he open his mouth in vivid and solemn approval:

攀爬的声音伴随着歌声传来，那个地方的精神紧随着那只红色公鹿消逝了。绿幕突然被掀开，一个人探过头来，看着这里的草地、水塘和山坡。他是那种心思缜密的人。他先环顾四周，接着扫视细微之处，以核实最初的整体印象。这时，直到这时，他才开口，生动且郑重地赞叹道：

"Smoke of life an 'snakes of purgatory! Will you just look at that! Wood an' water an 'grass an' a side—hill! A pocket—hunter's delight an 'a cayuse's paradise! Cool green for tired eyes! Pink pills for pale people ain't in it. A secret pasture for prospectors and a resting—place for tired burros, by damn!”

“充满生气，冥冥中的人间仙境！你看看啊！树木、河水、草地和山坡！探矿人的乐土，卡尤塞马的天堂！眼睛累了有清凉的绿色！这里可没有粉色药片给那些面色惨白的人。这是探矿人的秘密草地，是疲惫的驴子休息的地方，该死！”

He was a sandy—complexioned man in whose face geniality and humor seemed the salient characteristics. It was a mobile face, quick—changing to inward mood and thought. Thinking was in him a visible process. Ideas chased across his face like wind—flaws across the surface of a lake. His hair, sparse and unkempt of growth, was as indeterminate and colorless as his complexion. It would seem that all the color of his frame had gone into his eyes, for they were startlingly blue. Also, they were laughing and merry eyes, within them much of the naivete and wonder of the child; and yet, in an unassertive way, they contained much of calm self—reliance and strength of purpose founded upon self—experience and experience of the world.

他皮肤浅黄，亲切幽默好像是他脸上最显著的特征。这是一张善变的脸，它随着内心的情绪和思想迅速变化。他的思考过程是个看得见的过程。他的思想像风吹过湖面一样在他脸上荡起涟漪。他的头发稀疏又蓬乱，发色和他的肤色一样，淡得分不清是什么颜色。似乎他身上所有的颜色都注入到他的眼睛里了，它们蓝得叫人吃惊。这也是双含着笑意的、愉快的眼睛，带着不少儿童的纯真和好奇的神情；然而，其中又包含一种难以言表的，建立在经验和阅历基础上的冷静自恃和不屈不挠的气度。

From out the screen of vines and creepers he flung ahead of him a miner's pick and shovel and gold—pan. Then he crawled out himself into the open. He was clad in faded overalls and black cotton shirt, with hobnailed brogans on his feet, and on his head a hat whose shapelessness and stains advertised the rough usage of wind and rain and sun and camp—smoke. He stood erect, seeing wide—eyed the secrecy of the scene and sensuously inhaling the warm, sweet breath of the ca? on—garden through nostrils that dilated and quivered with delight. His eyes narrowed to laughing slits of blue, his face wreathed itself in joy, and his mouth curled in a smile as he cried aloud:

他把矿工用的锄头、铲子和淘金盘从藤蔓和匍匐枝结成的绿幕后面抛出来。接着他自己爬出来，来到开阔地。他身上穿着一条褪色的工装裤和一件黑色的棉布衬衣，脚踩一双钉着平头钉的劳动靴，头戴一顶走了样的脏兮兮的帽子，一看就是经历了风雨、日晒和烟熏的考验。他直直地站着，瞪大眼睛看着这神奇的景色，通过快乐得扩张起来、翕动着的鼻翼，尽情地吸入这个峡谷花园中温暖芳香的气息。他的眼睛笑眯眯地成了一条蓝线，满脸笑容，嘴角也笑着翘起来，同时大声喊：

"Jumping dandelions and happy hollyhocks, but that smells good to me! Talk about your attar o 'roses an' cologne factories! They ain't in it!”

“跳跃的蒲公英，快乐的蜀葵，闻起来真香！随你们去谈论玫瑰香油和科隆香水的工厂吧！它们根本不值得一提！”

He had the habit of soliloquy. His quick—changing facial expressions might tell every thought and mood, but the tongue, perforce, ran hard after, repeating, like a second Boswell.

他有个毛病，爱自言自语。他容易变化的脸部表情会流露他的所有思绪和心情，但是他的舌头，还是不想落后，总是要重复，就像二号博斯韦尔。

The man lay down on the lip of the pool and drank long and deep of its water. "Tastes good to me, " he murmured, lifting his head and gazing across the pool at the side—hill, while he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The side—hill attracted his attention. Still lying on his stomach, he studied the hill formation long and carefully. It was a practised eye that travelled up the slope to the crumbling ca? on—wall and back and down again to the edge of the pool. He scrambled to his feet and favored the side—hill with a second survey.

那人在水塘边躺下，喝了很长时间的水。 “味道还不错。” 他喃喃自语，一边仰起头凝视着水塘对面的山坡，一边用手背抹了下嘴。山坡引起了他的注意。他仍然趴着，认真地把山的构造琢磨了很长时间。他用老练的眼光，从山坡往上一直移到破裂的谷壁，然后又往下回到水塘边。他爬起来，再次用欣赏的眼光将这个山坡观察了一遍。

"Looks good to me, " he concluded, picking up his pick and shovel and gold—pan.

“依我看真是太好了。” 他作出结论，捡起他的锄头、铲子和淘金盘。

He crossed the stream below the pool, stepping agilely from stone to stone. Where the side—hill touched the water he dug up a shovelful of dirt and put it into the gold—pan. He squatted down, holding the pan in his two hands, and partly immersing it in the stream. Then he imparted to the pan a deft circular motion that sent the water sluicing in and out through the dirt and gravel. The larger and the lighter particles worked to the surface, and these, by a skilful dipping movement of the pan, he spilled out and over the edge. Occasionally, to expedite matters, he rested the pan and with his fingers raked out the large pebbles and pieces of rock.

在水塘下首，他灵巧地踩着一块又一块石头，跨过了小溪。在山坡与水相接的地方，他挖了一铲泥，放在淘金盘里。他蹲坐下来，两只手托着盘子，把它的一部分浸在溪水里。接着，他灵巧地转着盘子，叫水流进泥沙里，再流到外面。大一点和轻一点的颗粒就浮到水面上，他很灵活地把盘子一歪，就把这些颗粒倒了出去。偶尔，他会把盘子放稳，用手指捡出大石块和小碎石，以便加快速度。

The contents of the pan diminished rapidly until only fine dirt and the smallest bits of gravel remained. At this stage he began to work very deliberately and carefully. It was fine washing, and he washed fine and finer, with a keen scrutiny and delicate and fastidious touch. At last the pan seemed empty of everything but water; but with a quick semicircular flirt that sent the water flying over the shallow rim into the stream, he disclosed a layer of black sand on the bottom of the pan. So thin was this layer that it was like a streak of paint. He examined it closely. In the midst of it was a tiny golden speck. He dribbled a little water in over the depressed edge of the pan. With a quick flirt he sent the water sluicing across the bottom, turning the grains of black sand over and over. A second tiny golden speck rewarded his effort.

盘子里的东西很快就变少了，后来只留下细泥和极小的砂砾。到了这个阶段，他就开始非常谨慎、细心地淘了。这是细淘，他愈淘愈细，全靠敏锐的观察和精准、高超的手法。最后，盘子似乎都空了，只剩下水；但是，他迅速将盘子转了半圈，让水飞跃盘子的浅边流到小溪里，就看到盘底出现一层黑砂。那层黑砂薄得像一道油漆。他认真地检查了一番。里面有一粒极小的金砂。他让一点溪水从盘子浅浅的边缘流进来。他迅速地转动了下盘子，让水冲洗盘底，不断地翻动着黑砂。第二粒极小的金砂出来了，算是没白费力气。

The washing had now become very fine—fine beyond all need of ordinary placer—mining. He worked the black sand, a small portion at a time, up the shallow rim of the pan. Each small portion he examined sharply, so that his eyes saw every grain of it before he allowed it to slide over the edge and away. Jealously, bit by bit, he let the black sand slip away. A golden speck, no larger than a pin—point, appeared on the rim, and by his manipulation of the water it returned to the bottom of the pan. And in such fashion another speck was disclosed, and another. Great was his care of them. Like a shepherd he herded his flock of golden specks so that not one should be lost. At last, of the pan of dirt nothing remained but his golden herd. He counted it, and then, after all his labor, sent it flying out of the pan with one final swirl of water.

这时，淘洗变得十分精细，精细得超出了平常淘金砂所需的程度。他每次弄一小部分，把黑砂弄到盘子的浅边外面。每一小部分他都进行细致的检查，这样在每一粒砂子流到外面以前他都亲眼看过。他小心翼翼地，一点一点地让黑砂滑出去。有一粒金砂，比针眼大不了多少，出现在盘子边缘，他让水倒着流，那粒金砂就回到了盘子里。就这样，又一粒金砂出现了，然后，又是一粒。他小心谨慎地看护着它们。他像一个牧羊人放牧羊群一样，不让一粒金砂丢失。最后，那个满是泥沙的盘子里只剩下他的金砂群。他数了一下，然后，在花费那么大力气之后，把盘子里的水转了最后一下，就让那些金砂都飞出盘子了。

But his blue eyes were shining with desire as he rose to his feet. "Seven, " he muttered aloud, asserting the sum of the specks for which he had toiled so hard and which he had so wantonly thrown away. "Seven, " he repeated, with the emphasis of one trying to impress a number on his memory.

但是，他站起来的时候，蓝眼睛里闪着欲望的光。 “七粒。” 他大声嘟囔着，宣布着他费力淘来又轻易丢掉的金砂的数目。 “七粒。” 他重复道，加强了语气，像是要努力记住这个数字。

He stood still a long while, surveying the hillside. In his eyes was a curiosity, new—aroused and burning. There was an exultance about his bearing and a keenness like that of a hunting animal catching the fresh scent of game.

他又站了很长时间，观察着那个山坡。他眼睛里闪着好奇的、新生的、炽热的光。他流露出一副狂喜的神态，还有一分机警敏锐，就像一头猎食的动物闻到猎物新鲜的气味一样。

He moved down the stream a few steps and took a second panful of dirt.

他沿着小溪往下游走了几步，挖了第二盘泥沙。

Again came the careful washing, the jealous herding of the golden specks, and the wantonness with which he sent them flying into the stream when he had counted their number.

又开始了仔细地淘洗，小心翼翼地收集金砂，清点完数目之后，他又轻易地让它们滑向小溪里。

"Five, " he muttered, and repeated, "five. "

“五粒，” 他咕哝道，又重复了一遍， “五粒。”

He could not forbear another survey of the hill before filling the pan farther down the stream. His golden herds diminished. "Four, three, two, two, one, " were his memory—tabulations as he moved down the stream. When but one speck of gold rewarded his washing, he stopped and built a fire of dry twigs. Into this he thrust the gold—pan and burned it till it was blue—black. He held up the pan and examined it critically. Then he nodded approbation. Against such a color—background he could defy the tiniest yellow speck to elude him.

他忍不住又观察了一番小山的形势，接着又再往小溪下游去，又铲了一盘泥沙。他的金砂数目减少了。 “四粒，三粒，两粒，两粒，一粒。” 这是他往小溪下游走的同时脑子里列的一张表。等到只淘出一粒金砂的时候，他停下来，用干树枝生了一堆火。他把淘金盘投到火里烧，直到把它烧成深蓝色。他把盘子举起来，仔细钻研起来。然后才赞许地点点头。有了这种背景颜色的反衬，就是再小的黄砂，也不能从他眼皮底下逃掉了。

Still moving down the stream, he panned again. A single speck was his reward. A third pan contained no gold at all. Not satisfied with this, he panned three times again, taking his shovels of dirt within a foot of one another. Each pan proved empty of gold, and the fact, instead of discouraging him, seemed to give him satisfaction. His elation increased with each barren washing, until he arose, exclaiming jubilantly:

再往小溪的下游走，他接着淘。他只收获到一粒金砂。第三盘没有一粒金砂。对此他并不满意，他又淘了三盘，每隔一英尺就铲一铲泥沙。每一盘都没有金砂，而对于这个事实，他并没有气馁，反过来他好像还十分满意。他越淘不到，就越高兴，直到他站起身，兴高采烈地喊道：

"If it ain't the real thing, may God knock off my head with sour apples!”

“如果这不是个金矿的话，就让上帝拿酸苹果砸掉我的脑袋！”

Returning to where he had started operations, he began to pan up the stream. At first his golden herds increased—increased prodigiously. "Fourteen, eighteen, twenty—one, twenty—six, " ran his memory tabulations. Just above the pool he struck his richest pan—thirty—five colors.

回到他起初淘过的地方，他开始沿着小溪的上游去淘。一开始，他淘到的金砂数目增加得很快——快得惊人。 “十四粒，十八粒，二十一粒，二十六粒。” 他的脑子里又是一张表。在水塘的上方，他淘到了最多的一盘——三十五粒。

"Almost enough to save, " he remarked regretfully as he allowed the water to sweep them away.

“几乎能留起来了。” 让水把它们冲走的时候他懊悔地说。

The sun climbed to the top of the sky. The man worked on. Pan by pan, he went up the stream, the tally of results steadily decreasing.

太阳爬到山顶了。那人还在干活。他沿溪而上，一盘又一盘，他淘到的金砂数目稳步下降。

"It's just booful, the way it peters out, " he exulted when a shovelful of dirt contained no more than a single speck of gold.

当他从一铲泥沙里只淘到一粒金砂的时候，他兴高采烈地说， “依照它逐渐消失的情形来看，真是好极了。”

And when no specks at all were found in several pans, he straightened up and favored the hillside with a confident glance.

等到几盘都没有金砂的时候，他直起身来，信心十足地扫了一眼山坡。

"Ah, ha! Mr. Pocket! " he cried out, as though to an auditor hidden somewhere above him beneath the surface of the slope. "Ah, ha! Mr. Pocket! I 'm a—comin’, I' m a—comin’, an 'I' m shorely gwine to get yer! You heah me, Mr. Pocket? I 'm gwine to get yer as shore as punkins ain't cauliflowers!”

“啊，哈！矿穴先生！” 他喊道，仿佛是在对藏在上面山坡底下的一个听众说话。 “啊，哈！矿穴先生！我来了，我来了，我肯定会逮到你的！你听到了吗，矿穴先生？我一定会逮到你的，一定不会错的！”

He turned and flung a measuring glance at the sun poised above him in the azure of the cloudless sky. Then he went down the ca? on, following the line of shovel—holes he had made in filling the pans. He crossed the stream below the pool and disappeared through the green screen. There was little opportunity for the spirit of the place to return with its quietude and repose, for the man's voice, raised in ragtime song, still dominated the ca? on with possession.

他回过身，看了一眼挂在万里无云的碧空中的太阳。然后他沿着之前淘金时挖的那些洞，往峡谷下面走去。他跨过水塘下游的小溪，穿过绿幕消失了。这个地方想要恢复它的精神，重新平静下来是不可能了，那个人的爵士歌声仍然风靡于这片峡谷。

After a time, with a greater clashing of steel—shod feet on rock, he returned. The green screen was tremendously agitated. It surged back and forth in the throes of a struggle. There was a loud grating and clanging of metal. The man's voice leaped to a higher pitch and was sharp with imperativeness. A large body plunged and panted. There was a snapping and ripping and rending, and amid a shower of falling leaves a horse burst through the screen. On its back was a pack, and from this trailed broken vines and torn creepers. The animal gazed with astonished eyes at the scene into which it had been precipitated, then dropped its head to the grass and began contentedly to graze. A second horse scrambled into view, slipping once on the mossy rocks and regaining equilibrium when its hoofs sank into the yielding surface of the meadow. It was riderless, though on its back was a high—horned Mexican saddle, scarred and discolored by long usage.

过了片刻，他回来了，鞋底上的铁钉撞击石头的声音更响了。绿幕抖动得非常厉害。它来回地晃，像是在苦苦挣扎。有很响的金属摩擦和撞击声。那人的声音更响亮了，带着训斥的口气，尖利刺耳。一个庞然大物上气不接下气地准备冲出来。在一阵折断劈裂的噼里啪啦声中，在纷纷的落叶中，一匹马冲破了绿幕。它背上驮着一个包裹，包裹后面拖着许多破蔓断枝。那牲畜吃惊地看了看自己闯进来的这个地方，接着便低下头，心满意足地吃起草来。又一匹马冲出来，在长满青苔的石头上滑了一下，马蹄踏在软软的草地上的时候，它的身体又恢复了平衡。没有人骑着它，尽管它的背上有一副装着鞍头的墨西哥式马鞍，由于用了很长时间，已经伤痕累累，褪了颜色。

The man brought up the rear. He threw off pack and saddle, with an eye to camp location, and gave the animals their freedom to graze. He unpacked his food and got out frying—pan and coffee—pot. He gathered an armful of dry wood, and with a few stones made a place for his fire.

那人在它们后面出现。他把包裹和马鞍卸下来，看好了露营的位置，放开那两匹马，叫它们去吃草。他打开干粮袋子，取出煎锅和咖啡壶。他捡了一抱干木柴，拿几块石头搭了个地方好生火。

"My! " he said, "but I've got an appetite. I could scoff iron—filings an 'horseshoe nails an't hank you kindly, ma' am, for a second helpin’.”

“哎呀！” 他说， “我的胃口很好啊！我甚至连锉下来的铁末子和马蹄上的钉子都吞得下去，真得感谢你，老板娘，叫我再吃一份。”

He straightened up, and, while he reached for matches in the pocket of his overalls, his eyes travelled across the pool to the side—hill. His fingers had clutched the match—box, but they relaxed their hold and the hand came out empty. The man wavered perceptibly. He looked at his preparations for cooking and he looked at the hill.

他直起身，把手伸到工装裤的裤兜里拿火柴的时候，眼睛越过水塘，观察着那个山坡。他的手指已经摸到了那盒火柴，可是又松开了，手空着出来了。看得出他在迟疑。他看了看他准备好的烹调用具和食物，又看了看那座山。

"Guess I'll take another whack at her, " he concluded, starting to cross the stream.

“我想再试试。” 他下了结论，开始跨过小溪。

"They ain't no sense in it, I know, " he mumbled apologetically. "But keepin 'grub back an hour ain't goin't o hurt none, I reckon.”

“确实是白费功夫，我知道，” 他怀着歉意似地嘟囔着， “不过，依我看，晚一个小时再吃饭又饿不坏。”

A few feet back from his first line of test—pans he started a second line. The sun dropped down the western sky, the shadows lengthened, but the man worked on. He began a third line of test—pans. He was cross—cutting the hillside, line by line, as he ascended. The centre of each line produced the richest pans, while the ends came where no colors showed in the pan. And as he ascended the hillside the lines grew perceptibly shorter. The regularity with which their length diminished served to indicate that somewhere up the slope the last line would be so short as to have scarcely length at all, and that beyond could come only a point. The design was growing into an inverted "V. " The converging sides of this "V" marked the boundaries of the gold—bearing dirt. The apex of the "V" was evidently the man's goal. Often he ran his eye along the converging sides and on up the hill, trying to divine the apex, the point where the gold—bearing dirt must cease. Here resided "Mr. Pocket" —for so the man familiarly addressed the imaginary point above him on the slope, crying out:

在第一次试淘的那条线后边几英尺处，他又开辟了第二条线。太阳慢慢向西下沉，影子也逐渐变长，但是那人还在干活。他开始挖掘第三条试淘路线。他往山上爬的时候，在山坡上划了一条又一条横线。每条线的中点发现的金砂最多，到了两端，盘子里就没有金砂了。他越往上爬，这些线就越是明显地变短。这些线不断变短的规律显示，这个山坡上某个地方会有最后一条线，那条线一定短得几乎没有长度，最终只剩下一个点。这样的排列慢慢变成一个倒写的 "V" 。这个 "V" 字聚拢的两边就代表着金砂矿穴的边界。很显然， "V" 字的顶点就是那人的目标。他常顺着聚拢的两边向山坡上望去，想要探寻出顶点的位置，也就是金砂矿的终点。 “矿穴先生” 就住在这里——那人就这样亲切地称呼着山坡上的那个点，大声喊道：

"Come down out o't hat, Mr. Pocket! Be right smart an 'agreeable, an' come down!”

“下来吧，矿穴先生！痛快点，听话点，下来吧！”

"All right, " he would add later, in a voice resigned to determination. "All right, Mr. Pocket. It's plain to me I got to come right up an 'snatch you out bald—headed. An' I'll do it! I'll do it! " he would threaten still later.

“那好吧。” 然后他会用毫不犹豫的口气说道， “那好吧，矿穴先生。看来我是得亲自上去把你的秃头揪出来。我会把你揪出来的！我肯定会把你揪出来的！” 然后他恐吓道。

Each pan he carried down to the water to wash, and as he went higher up the hill the pans grew richer, until he began to save the gold in an empty baking—powder can which he carried carelessly in his hip—pocket. So engrossed was he in his toil that he did not notice the long twilight of oncoming night. It was not until he tried vainly to see the gold colors in the bottom of the pan that he realized the passage of time. He straightened up abruptly. An expression of whimsical wonderment and awe overspread his face as he drawled:

每一盘泥沙他都拿到下面去水边淘洗，越往上，盘子里淘出的金砂就越多，以后他就开始把淘到的金砂都保存起来，装在一个原本是盛发酵粉的空罐子里，这个罐子是他无意间塞到裤兜里的。他全神贯注地干活，没有留意到夜色已渐渐降临。直到他怎么都看不见盘底的金砂了，他才意识到已经过了很长时间了。他猛然直起身子。脸上露出古怪的惊恐的神情，他慢吞吞地说：

"Gosh darn my buttons! if I didn't plumb forget dinner!”

“他妈的！我怎么把吃饭的事给忘了！”

He stumbled across the stream in the darkness and lighted his long—delayed fire. Flapjacks and bacon and warmed—over beans constituted his supper. Then he smoked a pipe by the smouldering coals, listening to the night noises and watching the moonlight stream through the ca? on. After that he unrolled his bed, took off his heavy shoes, and pulled the blankets up to his chin. His face showed white in the moonlight, like the face of a corpse. But it was a corpse that knew its resurrection, for the man rose suddenly on one elbow and gazed across at his hillside.

夜色中，他磕磕绊绊地跨过小溪，生起了那堆耽搁了很久的火。烙饼、腌肉还有热过的熟豆子就是他的晚饭。然后他在闷着火的木炭边上抽了一斗烟，听着夜晚的响声，看着洒满峡谷的月光。之后，他把行李铺开，脱下笨重的靴子，把毯子拽到下巴下面。0但是，这是一具能复活的死尸，他突然用一只胳膊肘支起身体，凝视着对面的山坡。

"Good night, Mr. Pocket, " he called sleepily. "Good night. "

“祝你晚安，矿穴先生，” 他困倦地喊道， “祝你晚安。”

He slept through the early gray of morning until the direct rays of the sun smote his closed eyelids, when he awoke with a start and looked about him until he had established the continuity of his existence and identified his present self with the days previously lived.

他睡过了天色昏暗的清晨，一直到太阳光直射在他紧闭的眼皮上，他才突然惊醒，看看四周，直至他想起自己的存在，弄清楚现在的自己就是以前活着的那个人。

To dress, he had merely to buckle on his shoes. He glanced at his fireplace and at his hillside, wavered, but fought down the temptation and started the fire.

要说穿衣服，他只要把靴子蹬上系好就行了。他看了看火堆，又看了看山坡，踌躇着，总算抵制住诱惑，开始生火。

"Keep yer shirt on, Bill; keep yer shirt on, " he admonished himself. "What's the good of rushin '? No use in gettin' all het up an 'sweaty. Mr. Pocket'll wait for you. He ain't a—runnin' away before you can get yer breakfast. Now, what you want, Bill, is something fresh in yer bill o 'fare. So it's up to you to go an' get it.”

“沉住气，比尔，沉住气，” 他告诫自己， “着急有什么用？急得浑身冒汗没什么用。矿穴先生会等着你的。他不会在你吃完早饭之前就溜掉的。比尔，如今你需要的是吃些新鲜的东西。你得亲自去弄点来。”

He cut a short pole at the water's edge and drew from one of his pockets a bit of line and a draggled fly that had once been a royal coachman.

他在水边砍下一根短树枝，从一个衣兜里拽出一截钓线和一个先前十分精美、可是已经弄脏的假蝇饵。

"Mebbe they'll bite in the early morning, " he muttered, as he made his first cast into the pool. And a moment later he was gleefully crying: "What'd I tell you, eh? What'd I tell you? "

“或许它们会在大清早上钩的。” 他在第一次抛出钓钩的时候嘟囔着。不一会，他就兴奋地大喊： “我说什么来着，呃？我说什么来着？”

He had no reel, nor any inclination to waste time, and by main strength, and swiftly, he drew out of the water a flashing ten—inch trout. Three more, caught in rapid succession, furnished his breakfast. When he came to the stepping—stones on his way to his hillside, he was struck by a sudden thought, and paused.

他没有卷线的轴，也不打算浪费时间，全凭力气，快速地从水中拽出一条亮闪闪的、十英寸长的鳟鱼。紧接着又钓了三条，他的早饭有了。当他踏上踏脚石，准备去山坡上的时候，他被一个突然的想法侵袭，停了下来。

"I'd just better take a hike down—stream a ways, " he said. "There's no tellin 'what cuss may be snoopin' around.”

“我最好还是去小溪下游走一遭，” 他说， “没准什么人鬼鬼祟祟地躲在附近呢。”

But he crossed over on the stones, and with a "I really oughter take that hike, " the need of the precaution passed out of his mind and he fell to work.

但是他还是踩着石头过了小溪，嘴上说着 “我真应当去走一遭的。” 然后他就把警惕心抛到一边，投入地干活了。

At nightfall he straightened up. The small of his back was stiff from stooping toil, and as he put his hand behind him to soothe the protesting muscles, he said:

黄昏的时候，他直起身子。由于长时间弯腰干活，他的腰已经僵直了，他把手伸到背后抚摸跟他抗议的肌肉的时候，说道：

"Now what d'ye think of that, by damn? I clean forgot my dinner again! If I don't watch out, I'll sure be degeneratin 'into a two—meal—a—day crank.”

“该死！你倒想想这是怎么了？我又完全忘了吃饭的事！要是我不注意的话，我肯定就成了一天只吃两顿饭的奇人了。”

"Pockets is the damnedest things I ever see for makin 'a man absent—minded, " he communed that night, as he crawled into his blankets. Nor did he forget to call up the hillside, Good night, Mr. Pocket! Good night!

“矿穴是我见过的最该死的东西，叫人心不在焉。” 那天晚上他爬进毯子里的时候喃喃自语。他也没忘记招呼那个山坡， “祝你晚安，矿穴先生！祝你晚安！”

Rising with the sun, and snatching a hasty breakfast, he was early at work. A fever seemed to be growing in him, nor did the increasing richness of the test—pans allay this fever. There was a flush in his cheek other than that made by the heat of the sun, and he was oblivious to fatigue and the passage of time. When he filled a pan with dirt, he ran down the hill to wash it; nor could he forbear running up the hill again, panting and stumbling profanely, to refill the pan.

太阳一出来，他就起来了，急急忙忙吃了点早饭，就早早去干活了。他仿佛患了一种越来越严重的狂热病，尽管盘子里的金砂越来越多，他的狂热却没有减轻。他的脸颊发红，但不是因为太阳的高温，他忘了疲倦，也忘了时间在流逝。每次他把盘子装满泥沙以后，就跑到山下去淘洗；然后他又克制不住，上气不接下气地、跌跌撞撞地跑上山，再次把盘子装满。