On the eighteenth day we encountered the eastward-bound telegraph- constructors at Reese River station and sent a message to his Excellency Gov. Nye at Carson City (distant one hundred and fifty-six miles).
On the nineteenth day we crossed the Great American Desert—forty memorable1 miles of bottomless sand, into which the coach wheels sunk from six inches to a foot. We worked our passage most of the way across. That is to say, we got out and walked. It was a dreary2 pull and a long and thirsty one, for we had no water. From one extremity3 of this desert to the other, the road was white with the bones of oxen and horses. It would hardly be an exaggeration to say that we could have walked the forty miles and set our feet on a bone at every step! The desert was one prodigious4 graveyard5. And the log-chains, wagon6 tyres, and rotting wrecks8 of vehicles were almost as thick as the bones. I think we saw log-chains enough rusting9 there in the desert, to reach across any State in the union. Do not these relics10 suggest something of an idea of the fearful suffering and privation the early emigrants11 to California endured?
At the border of the Desert lies Carson Lake, or The “Sink” of the Carson, a shallow, melancholy12 sheet of water some eighty or a hundred miles in circumference13. Carson River empties into it and is lost—sinks mysteriously into the earth and never appears in the light of the sun again—for the lake has no outlet14 whatever.
There are several rivers in Nevada, and they all have this mysterious fate. They end in various lakes or “sinks,” and that is the last of them. Carson Lake, Humboldt Lake, Walker Lake, Mono Lake, are all great sheets of water without any visible outlet. Water is always flowing into them; none is ever seen to flow out of them, and yet they remain always level full, neither receding15 nor overflowing16. What they do with their surplus is only known to the Creator.
On the western verge17 of the Desert we halted a moment at Ragtown. It consisted of one log house and is not set down on the map.
This reminds me of a circumstance. Just after we left Julesburg, on the Platte, I was sitting with the driver, and he said:
“I can tell you a most laughable thing indeed, if you would like to listen to it. Horace Greeley went over this road once. When he was leaving Carson City he told the driver, Hank Monk18, that he had an engagement to lecture at Placerville and was very anxious to go through quick. Hank Monk cracked his whip and started off at an awful pace. The coach bounced up and down in such a terrific way that it jolted19 the buttons all off of Horace’s coat, and finally shot his head clean through the roof of the stage, and then he yelled at Hank Monk and begged him to go easier—said he warn’t in as much of a hurry as he was awhile ago. But Hank Monk said, ‘Keep your seat, Horace, and I’ll get you there on time’—and you bet you he did, too, what was left of him!”
A day or two after that we picked up a Denver man at the cross roads, and he told us a good deal about the country and the Gregory Diggings. He seemed a very entertaining person and a man well posted in the affairs of Colorado. By and by he remarked:
“I can tell you a most laughable thing indeed, if you would like to listen to it. Horace Greeley went over this road once. When he was leaving Carson City he told the driver, Hank Monk, that he had an engagement to lecture at Placerville and was very anxious to go through quick. Hank Monk cracked his whip and started off at an awful pace. The coach bounced up and down in such a terrific way that it jolted the buttons all off of Horace’s coat, and finally shot his head clean through the roof of the stage, and then he yelled at Hank Monk and begged him to go easier—said he warn’t in as much of a hurry as he was awhile ago. But Hank Monk said, ‘Keep your seat, Horace, and I’ll get you there on time!’—and you bet you he did, too, what was left of him!”
At Fort Bridger, some days after this, we took on board a cavalry20 sergeant21, a very proper and soldierly person indeed. From no other man during the whole journey, did we gather such a store of concise22 and well- arranged military information. It was surprising to find in the desolate23 wilds of our country a man so thoroughly24 acquainted with everything useful to know in his line of life, and yet of such inferior rank and unpretentious bearing. For as much as three hours we listened to him with unabated interest. Finally he got upon the subject of trans- continental25 travel, and presently said:
“I can tell you a very laughable thing indeed, if you would like to listen to it. Horace Greeley went over this road once. When he was leaving Carson City he told the driver, Hank Monk, that he had an engagement to lecture at Placerville and was very anxious to go through quick. Hank Monk cracked his whip and started off at an awful pace. The coach bounced up and down in such a terrific way that it jolted the buttons all off of Horace’s coat, and finally shot his head clean through the roof of the stage, and then he yelled at Hank Monk and begged him to go easier—said he warn’t in as much of a hurry as he was awhile ago. But Hank Monk said, ‘Keep your seat, Horace, and I’ll get you there on time!’—and you bet you he did, too, what was left of him!”
When we were eight hours out from Salt Lake City a Mormon preacher got in with us at a way station—a gentle, soft-spoken, kindly26 man, and one whom any stranger would warm to at first sight. I can never forget the pathos27 that was in his voice as he told, in simple language, the story of his people’s wanderings and unpitied sufferings. No pulpit eloquence28 was ever so moving and so beautiful as this outcast’s picture of the first Mormon pilgrimage across the plains, struggling sorrowfully onward29 to the land of its banishment30 and marking its desolate way with graves and watering it with tears. His words so wrought31 upon us that it was a relief to us all when the conversation drifted into a more cheerful channel and the natural features of the curious country we were in came under treatment. One matter after another was pleasantly discussed, and at length the stranger said:
“I can tell you a most laughable thing indeed, if you would like to listen to it. Horace Greeley went over this road once. When he was leaving Carson City he told the driver, Hank Monk, that he had an engagement to lecture in Placerville, and was very anxious to go through quick. Hank Monk cracked his whip and started off at an awful pace. The coach bounced up and down in such a terrific way that it jolted the buttons all off of Horace’s coat, and finally shot his head clean through the roof of the stage, and then he yelled at Hank Monk and begged him to go easier—said he warn’t in as much of a hurry as he was awhile ago. But Hank Monk said, ‘Keep your seat, Horace, and I’ll get you there on time!’—and you bet you bet you he did, too, what was left of him!”
Ten miles out of Ragtown we found a poor wanderer who had lain down to die. He had walked as long as he could, but his limbs had failed him at last. Hunger and fatigue32 had conquered him. It would have been inhuman33 to leave him there. We paid his fare to Carson and lifted him into the coach. It was some little time before he showed any very decided34 signs of life; but by dint35 of chafing36 him and pouring brandy between his lips we finally brought him to a languid consciousness. Then we fed him a little, and by and by he seemed to comprehend the situation and a grateful light softened37 his eye. We made his mail-sack bed as comfortable as possible, and constructed a pillow for him with our coats. He seemed very thankful. Then he looked up in our faces, and said in a feeble voice that had a tremble of honest emotion in it:
“Gentlemen, I know not who you are, but you have saved my life; and although I can never be able to repay you for it, I feel that I can at least make one hour of your long journey lighter38. I take it you are strangers to this great thorough fare, but I am entirely39 familiar with it. In this connection I can tell you a most laughable thing indeed, if you would like to listen to it. Horace Greeley——”
I said, impressively:
“Suffering stranger, proceed at your peril40. You see in me the melancholy wreck7 of a once stalwart and magnificent manhood. What has brought me to this? That thing which you are about to tell. Gradually but surely, that tiresome41 old anecdote42 has sapped my strength, undermined my constitution, withered43 my life. Pity my helplessness. Spare me only just this once, and tell me about young George Washington and his little hatchet44 for a change.”
We were saved. But not so the invalid45. In trying to retain the anecdote in his system he strained himself and died in our arms.
I am aware, now, that I ought not to have asked of the sturdiest citizen of all that region, what I asked of that mere46 shadow of a man; for, after seven years’ residence on the Pacific coast, I know that no passenger or driver on the Overland ever corked47 that anecdote in, when a stranger was by, and survived. Within a period of six years I crossed and recrossed the Sierras between Nevada and California thirteen times by stage and listened to that deathless incident four hundred and eighty-one or eighty-two times. I have the list somewhere. Drivers always told it, conductors told it, landlords told it, chance passengers told it, the very Chinamen and vagrant48 Indians recounted it. I have had the same driver tell it to me two or three times in the same afternoon. It has come to me in all the multitude of tongues that Babel bequeathed to earth, and flavored with whiskey, brandy, beer, cologne, sozodont, tobacco, garlic, onions, grasshoppers—everything that has a fragrance49 to it through all the long list of things that are gorged50 or guzzled51 by the sons of men. I never have smelt52 any anecdote as often as I have smelt that one; never have smelt any anecdote that smelt so variegated53 as that one. And you never could learn to know it by its smell, because every time you thought you had learned the smell of it, it would turn up with a different smell. Bayard Taylor has written about this hoary54 anecdote, Richardson has published it; so have Jones, Smith, Johnson, Ross Browne, and every other correspondence-inditing being that ever set his foot upon the great overland road anywhere between Julesburg and San Francisco; and I have heard that it is in the Talmud. I have seen it in print in nine different foreign languages; I have been told that it is employed in the inquisition in Rome; and I now learn with regret that it is going to be set to music. I do not think that such things are right.
Stage-coaching on the Overland is no more, and stage drivers are a race defunct55. I wonder if they bequeathed that bald-headed anecdote to their successors, the railroad brakemen and conductors, and if these latter still persecute56 the helpless passenger with it until he concludes, as did many a tourist of other days, that the real grandeurs of the Pacific coast are not Yo Semite and the Big Trees, but Hank Monk and his adventure with Horace Greeley.
[And what makes that worn anecdote the more aggravating57, is, that the adventure it celebrates never occurred. If it were a good anecdote, that seeming demerit would be its chiefest virtue58, for creative power belongs to greatness; but what ought to be done to a man who would wantonly contrive59 so flat a one as this? If I were to suggest what ought to be done to him, I should be called extravagant—but what does the sixteenth chapter of Daniel say? Aha!]
点击收听单词发音
1 memorable | |
adj.值得回忆的,难忘的,特别的,显著的 | |
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2 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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3 extremity | |
n.末端,尽头;尽力;终极;极度 | |
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4 prodigious | |
adj.惊人的,奇妙的;异常的;巨大的;庞大的 | |
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5 graveyard | |
n.坟场 | |
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6 wagon | |
n.四轮马车,手推车,面包车;无盖运货列车 | |
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7 wreck | |
n.失事,遇难;沉船;vt.(船等)失事,遇难 | |
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8 wrecks | |
n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 );(事故中)遭严重毁坏的汽车(或飞机等);(身体或精神上)受到严重损伤的人;状况非常糟糕的车辆(或建筑物等)v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 );使(船舶)失事,使遇难,使下沉 | |
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9 rusting | |
n.生锈v.(使)生锈( rust的现在分词 ) | |
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10 relics | |
[pl.]n.遗物,遗迹,遗产;遗体,尸骸 | |
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11 emigrants | |
n.(从本国移往他国的)移民( emigrant的名词复数 ) | |
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12 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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13 circumference | |
n.圆周,周长,圆周线 | |
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14 outlet | |
n.出口/路;销路;批发商店;通风口;发泄 | |
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15 receding | |
v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 );向后倾斜;自原处后退或避开别人的注视;尤指问题 | |
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16 overflowing | |
n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的,充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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17 verge | |
n.边,边缘;v.接近,濒临 | |
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18 monk | |
n.和尚,僧侣,修道士 | |
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19 jolted | |
(使)摇动, (使)震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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20 cavalry | |
n.骑兵;轻装甲部队 | |
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21 sergeant | |
n.警官,中士 | |
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22 concise | |
adj.简洁的,简明的 | |
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23 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
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24 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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25 continental | |
adj.大陆的,大陆性的,欧洲大陆的 | |
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26 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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27 pathos | |
n.哀婉,悲怆 | |
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28 eloquence | |
n.雄辩;口才,修辞 | |
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29 onward | |
adj.向前的,前进的;adv.向前,前进,在先 | |
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30 banishment | |
n.放逐,驱逐 | |
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31 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
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32 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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33 inhuman | |
adj.残忍的,不人道的,无人性的 | |
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34 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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35 dint | |
n.由于,靠;凹坑 | |
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36 chafing | |
n.皮肤发炎v.擦热(尤指皮肤)( chafe的现在分词 );擦痛;发怒;惹怒 | |
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37 softened | |
(使)变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 ); 缓解打击; 缓和; 安慰 | |
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38 lighter | |
n.打火机,点火器;驳船;v.用驳船运送;light的比较级 | |
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39 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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40 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
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41 tiresome | |
adj.令人疲劳的,令人厌倦的 | |
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42 anecdote | |
n.轶事,趣闻,短故事 | |
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43 withered | |
adj. 枯萎的,干瘪的,(人身体的部分器官)因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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44 hatchet | |
n.短柄小斧;v.扼杀 | |
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45 invalid | |
n.病人,伤残人;adj.有病的,伤残的;无效的 | |
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46 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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47 corked | |
adj.带木塞气味的,塞着瓶塞的v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的过去式 ) | |
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48 vagrant | |
n.流浪者,游民;adj.流浪的,漂泊不定的 | |
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49 fragrance | |
n.芬芳,香味,香气 | |
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50 gorged | |
v.(用食物把自己)塞饱,填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 );作呕 | |
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51 guzzled | |
v.狂吃暴饮,大吃大喝( guzzle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52 smelt | |
v.熔解,熔炼;n.银白鱼,胡瓜鱼 | |
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53 variegated | |
adj.斑驳的,杂色的 | |
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54 hoary | |
adj.古老的;鬓发斑白的 | |
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55 defunct | |
adj.死亡的;已倒闭的 | |
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56 persecute | |
vt.迫害,虐待;纠缠,骚扰 | |
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57 aggravating | |
adj.恼人的,讨厌的 | |
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58 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
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59 contrive | |
vt.谋划,策划;设法做到;设计,想出 | |
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