If things had gone well with me, if I had spent my twelve months on the Rio Negro, as I had meant to do, watching and listening to the birds of that district, these desultory1 chapters, which might be described as a record of what I did not do, would never have been written. For I should have been wholly occupied with my special task, moving in a groove2 too full of delights to allow of its being left, even for an occasional run and taste of liberty; and seeing one class of objects too well would have made all others look distant, obscure, and of little interest. But it was not to be as I had planned it. An accident, to be described by-and-by, disabled me for a period, and the winged people could no longer be followed with secret steps to their haunts, and their actions watched through a leafy screen. Lying helpless on my back through the long sultry mid-summer days, with the white-washed walls of my room for landscape and horizon, and a score or two of buzzing house-flies, perpetually engaged in their intricate airy dance, for only company, I was forced to think on a great variety of subjects, and to occupy my mind with other problems than that of migration4. These other problems, too, were in many ways like the flies that shared my apartment, and yet always remained strangers to me, as I to them, since between their minds and mine a great gulf5 was fixed6. Small unpainful riddles7 of the earth; flitting, sylph-like things, that began life as abstractions, and developed, like imago from maggot, into entities8: I always flitted among them, as they performed their mazy dance, whirling in circles, falling and rising, poised9 motionless, then suddenly cannoning10 against me for an instant, mocking my power to grasp them, and darting11 off again at a tangent. Baffled I would drop out of the game, like a tired fly that goes back to his perch12, but like the resting, restive13 fly I would soon turn towards them again; perhaps to see them all wheeling in a closer order, describing new fantastic figures, with swifter motions, their forms turned to thin black lines, crossing and recrossing in every direction, as if they had all combined to write a series of strange characters in the air, all forming a strange sentence — the secret of secrets! Happily for the progress of knowledge only a very few of these fascinating elusive14 insects of the brain can appear before us at the same time: as a rule we fix our attention on a single individual, like a falcon15 amid a flight of pigeons or a countless16 army of small field finches; of a dragon-fly in the thick of a cloud of mosquitoes, or infinitesimal sand-flies. Hawk17 and dragon-fly would starve if they tried to capture, or even regarded, more than one at a time.
I caught nothing, and found out nothing; nevertheless, these days of enforced idleness were not unhappy. And after leaving my room, hobbling round with the aid of a stout18 stick, and sitting in houses, I consorted19 with men and women, and listened day by day to the story of their small unavian affairs, until it began to interest me. But not too keenly. I could always quit them without regret to lie on the green sward, to gaze up into the trees or the blue sky, and speculate on all imaginable things. The result was that when no longer any excuse for inaction existed, use had bred a habit in me — the habit of indolence, which was quite common among the people of Patagonia, and appeared to suit the genial20 climate; and this habit and temper of mind I retained, with occasional slight relapses, during the whole period of my stay.
Our waking life is sometimes like a dream, which proceeds logically enough until the stimulus21 of some new sensation, from without or within, throws it into temporary confusion, or suspends its action; after which it goes on again, but with fresh characters, passions, and motives22, and a changed argument.
After feasting on cherries, and resting at the estancia, or farm, where we first touched the shore, we went on to the small town of El Carmen, which has existed since the last century, and is built on the side of a hill, or bluff23, facing the river. On the opposite shore, where there is no cliff nor high bank, and the low level green valley extends back four or five miles to the grey barren uplands, there is another small town called La Merced. In these two settlements I spent about a fortnight, and then, in company with a young Englishman, who had been one or two years in the colony, I started for an eighty miles’ ride up the river. Half-way to our destination we put up at a small log hut, which my companion had himself built a year before; but finding, too late, that the ground would produce nothing, he had lately abandoned it, leaving his tools and other belongings24 locked up in the place.
A curious home and repository was this same little rude cabin. The interior was just roomy enough to enable a man of my height (six feet) to stand upright and swing a cat in without knocking out its brains against the upright rough-barked willow-posts that made the walls. Yet within this limited space was gathered a store of weapons, tackle, and tools, sufficient to have enabled a small colony of men to fight the wilderness25 and found a city of the future. My friend had an ingenious mind and an amateur’s knowledge of a variety of handicrafts. The way to make him happy was to tell him that you had injured something made of iron or brass26 — a gun-lock, watch, or anything complicated. His eyes would shine, he would rub his hands and be all eagerness to get at the new patient to try his surgical27 skill on him. Now he had to give two or three days to all these wood and metal friends of his, to give a fresh edge to his chisels28, and play the dentist to his saws; to spread them all out and count and stroke them lovingly, as a breeder pats his beasties, and feed and anoint them with oil to make them shine and look glad. This was preliminary to the packing for transportation, which was also a rather slow process.
Leaving my friend at his delightful29 task I rambled30 about the neighbourhood taking stock of the birds. It was a dreary31 and desolate32 spot, with a few old gaunt and half-dead red willows33 for only trees. The reeds and rushes standing34 in the black stagnant35 pools were yellow and dead; and dead also were the tussocks of coarse tow-coloured grass, while the soil beneath was white as ashes and cracked everywhere with the hot suns and long drought. Only the river close by was always cool and green and beautiful.
At length, one hot afternoon, we were sitting on our rugs on the clay floor of the hut, talking of our journey on the morrow, and of the better fare and other delights we should find at the end of the day at the house of an English settler we were going to visit. While talking I took up his revolver to examine it for the first time, and he had just begun to tell me that it was a revolver with a peculiar36 character of its own, and with idiosyncrasies, one of which was that the slightest touch, or even vibration37 of the air, would cause it to go off when on the cock — he was just telling me this, when off it went with a terrible bang and sent a conical bullet into my left knee, an inch or so beneath the knee-cap. The pain was not much, the sensation resembling that caused by a smart blow on the knee; but on attempting to get up I fell back. I could not stand. Then the blood began to flow in a thin but continuous stream from the round symmetrical bore which seemed to go straight into the bone of the joint38, and nothing that we could do would serve to stop it. Here we were in a pretty fix! Thirty-six miles from the settlement, and with no conveyance39 that my friend could think of except a cart at a house several miles up the river, but on the wrong side! He, however, in his anxiety to do something, imagined, or hoped, that by some means the cart might be got over the river, and so, after thoughtfully putting a can of water by my side, he left me lying on my saddle-rugs, and, after fastening the door on the outside to prevent the intrusion of unwelcome prowlers, he mounted his horse and rode away. He had promised that, with or without some wheeled thing, he would be back not long after dark. But he did not return all night; he had found a boat and boatman to transport him to the other side only to learn that his plan was impracticable, and then returning with the disappointing tidings, found no boat to recross, and so in the end was obliged to tie his horse to a bush and lie down to wait for morning.
For me night came only too soon. I had no candle, and the closed, windowless cabin was intensely dark. My wounded leg had become inflamed41 and pained a great deal, but the bleeding continued until the handkerchiefs we had bound round it were saturated42. I was fully40 dressed, and as the night grew chilly43 I pulled my big cloth poncho44, that had a soft fluffy45 lining46, over me for warmth. I soon gave up expecting my friend, and knew that there would be no relief until morning. But I could neither doze47 nor think, and could only listen. From my experience during those black anxious hours I can imagine how much the sense of hearing must be to the blind and to animals that exist in dark caves. At length, about midnight, I was startled by a slight curious sound in the intense silence and darkness. It was in the cabin and close to me. I thought at first it was like the sound made by a rope drawn48 slowly over the clay floor. I lighted a wax match, but the sound had ceased, and I saw nothing. After a while I heard it again, but it now seemed to be out of doors and going round the hut, and I paid little attention to it. It soon ceased, and I heard it no more. So silent and dark was it thereafter that the hut I reposed49 in might have been a roomy coffin50 in which I had been buried a hundred feet beneath the surface of the earth. Yet I was no longer alone, if I had only known it, but had now a messmate and bedfellow who had subtly crept in to share the warmth of the cloak and of my person — one with a broad arrow-shaped head, set with round lidless eyes like polished yellow pebbles51, and a long smooth limbless body, strangely segmented and vaguely52 written all over with mystic characters in some dusky tint53 on an indeterminate greyish-tawny ground.
At length, about half-past three to four o’clock, a most welcome sound was heard — the familiar twittering of a pair of scissor-tail tyrant54 birds from a neighbouring willow-tree; and after an interval55, the dreamy, softly rising and falling, throaty warblings of the white-rumped swallow. A loved and beautiful bird is this, that utters his early song circling round and round in the dusky air, when the stars begin to pale; and his song, perhaps, seems sweeter than all others, because it corresponds in time to that rise in the temperature and swifter flow of the blood — the inward resurrection experienced on each morning of our individual life. Next in order the red-billed finches begin to sing — a curious, gobbling, impetuous performance, more like a cry than a song. These are pretty reed birds, olive-green, buff-breasted, with long tails and bright red beaks56. The intervals57 between their spasmodic bursts of sound were filled up with the fine frail58 melody of the small brown and grey crested59 song-sparrows. Last of all was heard the long, leisurely-uttered chanting cry of the brown carrion-hawk, as he flew past, and I knew that the morning was beautiful in the east. Little by little the light began to appear through the crevices60, faint at first, like faintly-traced pallid61 lines on a black ground, then brighter and broader until I, too, had a dim twilight62 in the cabin.
Not until the sun was an hour up did my friend return to me to find me hopeful still, and with all my faculties63 about me, but unable to move without assistance. Putting his arms around me he helped me up, and just as I had got erect64 on my sound leg, leaning heavily on him, out from beneath the poncho lying at my feet glided65 a large serpent of a venomous kind, the ‘Craspedocephalus alternatus’, called in the vernacular66 the ‘serpent with a cross’. Had my friend’s arms not been occupied with sustaining me he, no doubt, would have attacked it with the first weapon that offered, and in all probability killed it, with the result that I should have suffered from a kind of vicarious remorse67 ever after. Fortunately it was not long in drawing its coils out of sight and danger into a hole in the wall. My hospitality had been unconscious, nor, until that moment, had I known that something had touched me, and that virtue68 had gone out from me; but I rejoice to think that the secret deadly creature, after lying all night with me, warming its chilly blood with my warmth, went back unbruised to its den3.
Speaking of this serpent with a strange name, I recall the fact that Darwin made its acquaintance during his Patagonian rambles69 about sixty years ago; and in describing its fierce and hideous70 aspect, remarks, “I do not think I ever saw anything more ugly, excepting, perhaps, some of the vampire71 bats.” He speaks of the great breadth of the jaws72 at the base, the triangular73 snout, and the linear pupil in the midst of the mottled coppery iris74, and suggests that its ugly and horrible appearance is due to the resemblance of its face, in its shape, to the human countenance75.
This idea of the ugliness or repulsiveness76 of an inferior animal, due to its resemblance to man in face, is not, I believe, uncommon77; and I suppose that the reason that would be given for the feeling is that an animal of that kind looks like a vile78 copy of ourselves, or like a parody79 maliciously80 designed to mock us. It is an erroneous idea, or, at all events, is only a half-truth, as we recognise at once when we look at animals that are more or less human-like in countenance, and yet cause no repulsion. Seals may be mentioned — the mermaids81 and mermen of the old mariners82; also the sloth83 with its round simple face, to which its human shape imparts a somewhat comical and pathetic look. Many monkeys seem ugly to us, but we think the lemurs beautiful, and greatly admire the marmosets, those hairy manikins with sprightly84, bird-like eyes. And yet it is true that there is something human in the faces of this and perhaps of other pit-vipers, and of some vampire bats, as Darwin remarks; and that the horror they excite in us is due to this resemblance; what he failed to see was that it is the expression rather than the shape that horrifies85. For in these creatures it simulates such expressions as excite fear and abhorrence86 in our own species, or pity so intense as to be painful — ferocity, stealthy, watchful87 malignity88, a set look of anguish89 or despair, or some dreadful form of insanity90. Someone has well and wisely said that there is no ugliness in us except the expression of evil thoughts and passions; for these do most assuredly write themselves on the countenance. Looking at a serpent of this kind, and I have looked at many a one, the fancy is born in me that I am regarding what was once a fellow-being, perhaps one of those cruel desperate wretches91 I have encountered on the outskirts92 of civilisation93, who for his crimes has been changed into the serpent form, and cursed with immortality94.
As a rule the deceptive95 resemblances and self-plagiarisms of nature, when we light by chance on them, give us only pleasure, heightened by wonder or a sense of mystery; but the case of this serpent forms an exception: in spite of the tenderness I cherish towards the entire ophidian race, the sensation is not agreeable.
To return. My friend made a fire to boil water, and after we had had some breakfast, he galloped96 off once more in a new direction; he had at last remembered that on our side of the river there lived a settler who owned a bullock-cart, and to him he went. About ten o’clock he returned, and was shortly followed by the man with his lumbering97 cart drawn by a couple of bullocks. In this conveyance, suffering much from the heat and dust and joltings on the rough hard road, I was carried back to the settlement. Oxen travel slowly, and we were on the road all day and all night, and only reached our destination when the eastern sky had begun to grow bright, and the swallows from a thousand roosting-places were rising in wide circles into the still, dusky air, making it vocal99 with their warblings.
My miserable100 journey ended at the Mission House of the South American Missionary101 Society, in the village on the south bank of the river, facing the old town; and the change from the jolting98 cart to a comfortable bed was an unspeakable relief, and soon induced refreshing102 sleep. Later in the day, on awakening103, I found myself in the hands of a gentleman who was a skilful104 surgeon as well as a divine, one who had extracted more bullets and mended more broken bones than most surgeons who do not practise on battle-fields. My bullet, however, refused to be extracted, or even found in its hiding-place, and every morning for a fortnight I had a bad quarter of an hour, when my host would present himself in my room with a quiet smile on his lips and holding in his hands a bundle of probes — oh, those probes! — of all forms, sizes, and materials — wood, ivory, steel, and gutta-percha. These painful moments over, with no result except the reopening of a wound that wished to heal, there would be nothing more for me to do but to lie watching the flies, as I have said, and dreaming.
To conclude this vari-coloured chapter, I may here remark that some of the happiest moments of my life have been occasioned by those very circumstances which one would imagine would have made me most unhappy — by grave accidents, and sickness, which have disabled and cast me a burden upon strangers; and by adversity —
Which, like a toad105, ugly and venomous, Yet wears a precious jewel in its head.
Familiar words, but here newly interpreted; for this jewel which I have found — man’s love for man, and the law of helpful kindness written in the heart — is worthy106 to be prized above all our possessions, and is most beautiful, outshining the lapidary’s gems107, and of so sovereign a virtue that cynicism itself grows mute and ashamed in its light.
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desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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groove
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| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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migration
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| n.迁移，移居，（鸟类等的）迁徙 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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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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riddles
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| n.谜（语）( riddle的名词复数 )；猜不透的难题，难解之谜 | |
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entities
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| 实体对像； 实体，独立存在体，实际存在物( entity的名词复数 ) | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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cannoning
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| vi.与…猛撞（cannon的现在分词形式） | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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falcon
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| n.隼，猎鹰 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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consorted
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| v.结伴( consort的过去式和过去分词 )；交往；相称；调和 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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surgical
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| adj.外科的，外科医生的，手术上的 | |
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chisels
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| n.凿子，錾子( chisel的名词复数 )；口凿 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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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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saturated
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| a.饱和的，充满的 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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poncho
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| n.斗篷，雨衣 | |
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fluffy
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| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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reposed
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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beaks
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| n.鸟嘴( beak的名词复数 )；鹰钩嘴；尖鼻子；掌权者 | |
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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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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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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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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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vernacular
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| adj.地方的，用地方语写成的；n.白话；行话；本国语；动植物的俗名 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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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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vampire
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| n.吸血鬼 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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repulsiveness
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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parody
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| n.打油诗文，诙谐的改编诗文，拙劣的模仿；v.拙劣模仿，作模仿诗文 | |
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maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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mermaids
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| n.（传说中的）美人鱼( mermaid的名词复数 ) | |
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mariners
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| 海员，水手（mariner的复数形式） | |
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sloth
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| n.[动]树懒；懒惰，懒散 | |
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sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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horrifies
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| v.使震惊，使感到恐怖( horrify的第三人称单数 ) | |
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abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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malignity
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| n.极度的恶意，恶毒；（病的）恶性 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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103
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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107
gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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