I came to myself to find Jim pumping the breath back into me. I was lying on something soft. I moved my legs gingerly, and sat up. I looked around. We were on a bank of moss1 — in it, rather, for the tops of the moss were a foot or more above my head. It was an exceedingly overgrown moss, I thought, staring at it stupidly. I had never seen moss as big as this. Had I shrunk, or was it really so overgrown? Above me was a hundred feet of almost sheer cliff. Said Jim:
“Well, we’re here.” “How did we get here?” I asked, dazed. He pointed2 to the cliff.
“We fell down that. We struck a ledge3. You did, rather. I was on top. It bumped us right out on this nice big moss mattress4. I was still on top. That’s why I’ve been pumping breath back into you for the last five minutes. Sorry, Leif, but if it had been the other way about, you’d certainly have had to proceed on your pilgrimage alone. I haven’t your resilience.”
He laughed. I stood up, and looked about us. The bed of giant moss on which we had landed formed a mound6 between us and the forest. At the base of the difi was piled the debris7 of the fall that had made the slide. I looked at these rocks and shivered. If we had struck them we would have been a jumble8 of broken bones and mangled9 flesh. I felt myself over. I was intact.
“Everything, Indian,” I said piously10, “is always for the best.”
“God, Leif! You had me worried for awhile!” He turned abruptly11. “Look at the forest.”
The mound of moss was a huge and high oval, hemmed12 almost to the base of the cliffs by gigantic trees. They were somewhat like the sequoias of California, and quite as high. Their crowns towered; their enormous boles were columns carved by Titans. Beneath them grew graceful13 ferns, tall as palm trees, and curious conifers with trunks thin as bamboos, scaled red and yellow. Over them, hanging from the boles and branches of the trees, were vines and dusters of flowers of every shape and colour; there were cressets of orchids14, and chandeliers of lilies; strange symmetrical trees, the tips of whose leafless branches held up flower cups as though they were candelabra; chimes of flower bells swayed from boughs15 and there were long ropes and garlands of small starry16 flowers, white and crimson17 and in all the blues18 of the tropic seas. Bees dipped into them. There was a constant flashing of great dragon-flies all in lacquered mail of green and scarlet19. And mysterious shadows drifted through the forest, like the shadows of the wings of hovering20 unseen guardians21.
It was no forest of the Carboniferous Age, at least none such as I had ever seen reconstructed by science. It was a forest of enchantment22. Out of it came heady fragrances23. Nor was it, for all its strangeness, in the least sinister24, or forbidding. It was very beautiful. . Jim said:
“The woods of the gods! Anything might live in a place like that. Anything that is lovely —”
Ah, Tsantawu, my brother — had that but been true!
All I said was:
“It’s going to be damned hard to get through.”
“I was thinking that,” he answered. “Maybe the best thing is to skirt the cliffs. We may run across easier going farther on. Which way — right or left?”
We tossed a coin. The coin spun25 right. I saw the pack not far away, and walked over to retrieve26 it. The moss was as unsteady as a double spring-mattress. I wondered how it came to be there; thought that probably a few of the giant trees had been felled by the rock fall and the moss had fed upon their decay. I slung27 the pack over my shoulders, and we tramped, waist-deep in the spongy growth, to the cliffs.
We skirted the cliffs for about a mile. Sometimes the forest pressed so closely that we had trouble clinging to the rock. Then it began to change. The giant trees retreated. We entered a brake of the immense ferns. Except for the bees and the lacquered dragon-flies, there was no sign of life amid the riotous28 vegetation. We passed out of the ferns and into a most singular small meadow. It was almost like a clearing. At each side were the ferns; the forest formed a palisade at one end; at the other was a sheer cliff whose black face was spangled with large cup-shaped white flowers which hung from short, reddish, rather repellantly snake-like vines whose roots I supposed were fixed30 in crevices31 in ther rock.
No trees or ferns of any kind grew in the meadow. It was carpeted by a lacy grass upon whose tips were minute blue flowerlets. From the base of the cliff arose a thin veil of steam which streamed up softly high in air, bathing the cup-shaped white blossoms.
A boiling spring, we decided32. We drew closer to examine it.
We heard a wailing33 — despairing, agonized35. . . . Like the wail34 of a heart-broken, tortured child, yet neither quite human nor quite animal. It had come from the cliff, from somewhere behind the veils of steam. We stopped short, listening. The wailing began again, within it something that stirred the very depths of pity, and it did not cease. We ran toward the cliff. The steam curtain at its base was dense36. We skirted it and reached its farther end.
At the base of the cliff was a long and narrow pool, like a small dosed stream. Its water was black and bubbling, and from these bubbles came the steam. From end to end of the boiling pool, across the face of the black rock, ran a yard-wide ledge. Above it, spaced at regular intervals37, were niches38 cut within the cliff, small as cradles.
In two of these niches, half-within them and half-upon the ledge, lay what at first glance seemed two children. They were outstretched upon their backs, their tiny hands and feet fastened to the stone by staples39 of bronze. Their hair streamed down their sides; their bodies were stark40 naked.
And now I saw that they were not children. They were mature — a little man and a little woman. The woman had twisted her head and was staring at the other pygmy. It was she who was wailing. She did not see us. Her eyes were intent upon him. He lay rigid41, his eyes dosed. Upon his breast, over his heart, was a black corrosion42, as though acid had been dropped upon it.
There was a movement on the cliff above him. One of the cup-shaped white flowers was there. Could it have been that which had moved? It hung a foot above the little man’s breast, and on its scarlet pistils was a slowly gathering43 drop which I took for nectar.
It had been the flower whose movement had caught my eye! As I looked the reddish vine trembled. It writhed44 like a sluggish45 worm an inch down the rock. The flower shook its cup as though it were a mouth trying to shake loose the gathering drop. And the flower mouth was directly over the little man’s heart and the black corrosion on his breast.
I stepped out upon the narrow path, reached up and grasped the vine and tore it loose. It squirmed in my hand like a snake. Its roots dung to my fingers, and like a snake’s head the flower raised itself as though to strike. Its rim5 was thick and fleshy, like a round white mouth. The drop of nectar fell upon my hand and a fiery46 agony bit into it, running up my arm like a flame. I hurled47 the squirming thing into the boiling pool.
Close above the little woman was another of the crawling vines. I tore it loose as I had the other. It, too, strove to strike me with its head of flower, but either there was none of that dreadful nectar in its cup, or it missed me. I threw it after the other.
I bent48 over the little man. His eyes were open; he was glaring up at me. Like his skin, his eyes were yellow, tilted49, Mongolian. They seemed to have no pupils, and they were not wholly human; no more than had been the wailing of his woman. There was agony in them, and there was bitter hatred50. His gaze wandered to my hair, and I saw amazement51 banish52 the hatred.
The flaming torment53 of my hand and arm was almost intolerable. By it, I knew what the pygmy must be suffering. I tore away the staples that fettered54 him. I lifted the little man, and passed him over to Jim. He weighed no more than a baby.
I snapped the staples from the slab55 on which lay the little woman. There was no fear nor hatred in her eyes. They were filled with wonder and unmistakable gratitude56. I carried her over and set her beside her man.
I looked back, up the face of the black cliff. There was movement all over it; the reddish ropes of the vines writhing57, the white flowers swaying, raising and lowering their cups.
It was rather hideous58 . . . .
The little man lay quietly, yellow eyes turning front me to Jim and back to me again. The woman spoke59, in trilling, bird-like syllables60. She darted61 away across the meadow, into the forest.
Jim was staring down upon the golden pygmy like a man in a dream. I heard him whisper:
“The Yunwi Tsundi’! The Little People! It was all true then! All true!”
The little woman came running out of the fern brake. Her hands were full of thick, heavily veined leaves. She darted a look at me, as of apology. She bent over her man. She squeezed some of the leaves over his breast. A milky62 sap streamed through her fingers and dropped upon the black, corroded63 spot. It spread over the spot like a film. The little man stiffened64 and groaned65, relaxed and lay still.
The little woman took my hand. Where the nectar had touched, the skin had turned black. She squeezed the juice of the leaves upon it. A pang29, to which all the torment that had gone before was nothing, ran through hand and arm. Then, almost instantly, there was no pain.
I looked at the little man’s breast. The black corrosion had disappeared. There was a wound like an add burn, red and normal. I looked at my hand. It was inflamed66, but the blackness was no longer there.
The little woman bowed before me. The little man arose. He looked at my eyes and ran his gaze along my bulk. I watched suspicion grow, and the return of bitter hate. He spoke to his woman. She answered at some length, pointing to the cliff, to my inflamed hand, and to the ankles and wrists of both of them. The little man beckoned67 to me; by gesture asked me to bend down to him. I did, and he touched my yellow hair; he ran it through his tiny fingers. He laid his hand on my heart . . . then laid his head on my heart, listening to its beat.
He struck me with his small hand across my mouth. It was no blow; I knew it for a caress68.
The little man smiled at me, and trilled. I could not understand, and shook my head helplessly. He looked up at Jim and trilled another question. Jim tried him in the Cherokee. This time it was the little man who shook his head. He spoke again to his woman. Clearly I caught the word ev-ah-lee in the bird-like sounds. She nodded.
Motioning us to follow, they ran across the meadow, toward the further brake of fern. How little they were — hardly to my thighs69. They were beautifully formed. Their long hair was chestnut70 brown, fine and silky. Their hair floated behind them like cobwebs.
They ran like small deer. We were hard put to keep up with them. They entered the fern brake toward which we had been heading, and here they slowed their pace. On and on we went through the giant ferns. I could see no path, but the golden pygmies knew their way.
We came out of the ferns. Before us was a wide sward covered with the flowerets whose blue carpet ran to the banks of a wide river, to the banks of a strange river, a river all milky white, over whose placid71 surface hovered72 swirls73 of opalescent74 mist. Through the swirls I caught glimpses of green, level plains upon the white river’s further side, and of green scarps.
The little man halted. He bent his ear to the ground. He leaped back into the brake, motioning us to follow. In a few minutes we came across a half-ruined watch tower. Its entrance gaped75 open. The pygmies slipped within it, beckoning76.
Inside the tower was a crumbling77 flight of stones leading to its top. The little man and woman danced up them, with us close behind them. There was a small chamber78 at the tower’s top through the chinks of whose stones the green light streamed. I peered through one of the crevices, down upon the blue sward and the white river. I heard the faint trampling79 of horses’ feet and the low chanting of women; closer they drew, and closer.
A woman came riding down the blue sward. She was astride a great black mare80. She wore, like a hood81, the head of a white wolf. Its pelt82 covered her shoulders and back. Over that silvery pelt her hair fell in two thick braids of flaming red. Her high, round breasts were bare, and beneath them the paws of the white wolf were clasped like a girdle. Her eyes were blue as the cornflower and set wide apart under a broad, low forehead. Her skin was milky-white flushed with soft rose. Her mouth was full-lipped, crimson, and both amorous83 and cruel.
She was a strong woman, tall almost as I. She was like a Valkyrie, and like those messengers of Odin she carried on her saddle before her, held by one arm, a body. But it was no soul of a slain84 warrior85 snatched up for flight to Valhalla. It was a girl. A girl whose arms were bound to her sides by stout86 thongs87, with head bent hopelessly on her breast. I could not see her face; it was hidden under the veil of her hair. But the hair was russet red and her skin as fair as that of the woman who held her.
Over the Wolf-woman’s head flew a snow-white falcon88, dipping and circling and keeping pace with her as she rode.
Behind her rode a half-score other women, young and strong-thewed, pink-skinned and blue-eyed, their hair of copper-red, rust-red, bronzy-red, plaited around their heads or hanging in long braids down their shoulders. They were bare-breasted, kirtled and buskined. They carried long, slender spears and small round targes. And they, too, were like Valkyries, each of them a shield-maiden of the Aesir. As they rode, they sang, softly, muted, a strange chant.
The Wolf-woman and her captive passed around a bend of the sward and out of sight. The chanting women followed and were hidden.
There was a gleam of silver from the white falcon’s wing as it circled and dropped, circled and dropped. Then it, too, was gone.
收听单词发音 |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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debris
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| n.瓦砾堆，废墟，碎片 | |
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jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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piously
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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orchids
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| n.兰花( orchid的名词复数 ) | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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blues
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| n.抑郁，沮丧；布鲁斯音乐 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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fragrances
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| n.芳香，香味( fragrance的名词复数 )；香水 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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riotous
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| adj.骚乱的；狂欢的 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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niches
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| 壁龛( niche的名词复数 )； 合适的位置[工作等]； （产品的）商机； 生态位（一个生物所占据的生境的最小单位） | |
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staples
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| n.（某国的）主要产品( staple的名词复数 )；钉书钉；U 形钉；主要部份v.用钉书钉钉住( staple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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corrosion
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| n.腐蚀，侵蚀；渐渐毁坏，渐衰 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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banish
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| vt.放逐，驱逐；消除，排除 | |
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torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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fettered
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| v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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syllables
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| n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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milky
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| adj.牛奶的，多奶的；乳白色的 | |
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corroded
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| 已被腐蚀的 | |
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stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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inflamed
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| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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70
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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71
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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72
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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73
swirls
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| n.旋转( swirl的名词复数 )；卷状物；漩涡；尘旋v.旋转，打旋( swirl的第三人称单数 ) | |
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opalescent
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| adj.乳色的，乳白的 | |
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gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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76
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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78
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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79
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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80
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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81
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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82
pelt
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| v.投掷，剥皮，抨击，开火 | |
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83
amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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84
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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85
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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87
thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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88
falcon
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| n.隼，猎鹰 | |
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