Still a lingerer in the hospitable1 shade of the Mission House, my chief pleasure during the early days of February was in observing the autumnal muster2 of the purple swallows — ‘Progne furcata’ — a species which was abundant at this point, breeding in the cliffs overhanging the river; also, like so many other swallows in all places, under the eaves of houses. It is a large, beautiful bird, its whole upper plumage of a rich, glossy3, deep purple hue4, its under surface black. No such large swallows as this, with other members of its genus, are known in the Old World; and a visitor from Europe would probably, on first seeing one of these birds, mistake it for a swift; but it has not got the narrow, scythe-shaped wings of the swift, nor does it rush through the air in the swift’s mad way; on the contrary, its flight is much calmer, with fewer quick doublings, than that of other swallows. It also differs from most members of its family in possessing a set song of several modulated5 notes, which are occasionally warbled in a leisurely6 manner as the bird soars high in the air: as a melodist it should rank high among the hirundines.
The trees of the Mission House proved very attractive to these birds; the tall Lombardy poplars were specially7 favoured, which seems strange, for in a high wind (and it was very windy just then) the slim unresting tree forms as bad a perching-place as a bird could well settle on. Nevertheless, to the poplars they would come when the wind was most violent; first hovering9 or wheeling about in an immense flock, then, as occasion offered, dropping down, a few at a time, to cling, like roosting locusts10, to the thin vertical11 branches, clustering thicker and thicker until the high trees looked black with them; then a mightier12 gust13 would smite14 and sway the tall tops down, and the swallows, blown from their insecure perch8, would rise in a purple cloud to scatter15 chattering16 all over the windy heavens, only to return and congregate17, hovering and clinging as before.
Lying on the grass, close to the river bank, I would watch them by the hour, noting their unrest and indecision, the strangeness and wild spirit that made the wind and vexed18 poplars congenial to them; for something new and strange had come to trouble them — the subtle breath
That in a powerful language, felt, not heard, Instructs the fowls19 of heaven.
But as to the character of that breath I vainly questioned Nature — she being the only woman who can keep a secret, even from a lover.
Rain came at last, and fell continuously during an entire night. Next morning (February 14th) when I went out and looked up at the sky, covered with grey hurrying clouds, I saw a flock of forty or fifty large swallows speeding north; and after these I saw no more; for on that first wet morning, before I had risen, the purple cloud had forsaken20 the valley.
I missed them greatly, and wished that they had delayed their going, since it was easier and more hopeful to ponder on the mystery of their instinct when they were with me. That break in the tenor21 of their lives; the enforced change of habits; the conflict between two opposite emotions — the ties of place that held them back, seen and guessed in their actions, and the voice that called them away, speaking ever more imperatively22, which so wrought23 in them that at moments they were beside themselves — noting all this, hearing and seeing it at all hours of the day, I seemed to be nearer to the discovery of some hidden truth than when they were no longer in sight. But now they were gone, and with their departure had vanished my last excuse for resting longer inactive — at that spot, at all events.
I started afresh on my up-river journey, and paid a long visit to an English estancia about sixty miles from the town. I spent much of my time there in solitary24 rambles25, tasting once more of the “sweet and bitter cup of wild Nature.” Her colour was grey, her mood pensive26 as winter deepened, and there was nothing in the cup to inflame27 the fancy. But it was tonic28. My rides were often to the hills, or terraced uplands, outside of the level valley; but my description of that grey desolate29 solitude30 and its effects on me must be reserved for a later chapter, when I shall have dropped once for all this thread of narrative31, slight and loosely held as it is. In the present chapter and the succeeding one I shall treat of the aspects of nature in the valley itself. For I did not remain too long at any one point, but during the autumn, winter, and spring months I resided at various points, and visited the mouth of the river and adjacent plains on both sides, then went up river again to a distance of something over a hundred miles.
The valley, in this space, does not vary much in appearance; it may be described as the level bed of an ancient river, five or six miles wide, cut out in the plateau, with the existing river — a swift, deep stream, two hundred to three hundred yards broad — serpentining32 along its middle. But it does not keep to the middle; in its windings33 it approaches now the north, now the south, plateau, and at some points touches the extreme limits of the valley, and even cuts into the bank-like front of the high land, which forms a sheer cliff above the current, in some spots a hundred feet high.
The river was certainly miscalled Cusar-leofu, or Black River, by the aborigines, unless the epithet34 referred only to its swiftness and dangerous character; for it is not black at all in appearance, like its Amazonian namesake. The water, which flows from the Andes across a continent of stone and gravel35, is wonderfully pure, in colour a clear sea-green. So green does it look to the eye in some lights that when dipped up in a glass vessel36 one marvels37 to see it changed, no longer green, but crystal as dew- or rain-drop. Doubtless man is naturally scientific, and finds out why things are not what they seem, and gets to the bottom of all mysteries; but his older, deeper, primitive38, still persistent39 nature is non-scientific and mythical40, and, in spite of reason, he wonders at the change; — it is a miracle, a manifestation41 of the intelligent life and power that is in all things.
The river has its turbid42 days, although few and far between. One morning, on going down to the water, I was astonished to find it no longer the lovely hue of the previous evening, but dull red — red with the red earth that some swollen43 tributary44 hundreds of miles to the west had poured into its current. This change lasts only a day or two, after which the river runs green and pure again.
The valley at the end of a long hot windy summer had an excessively dry and barren appearance. The country, I was told, had suffered from scarcity45 of rain for three years: at some points even the roots of the dry dead grass had been blown away, and when the wind was strong a cloud of yellow dust hung all day over the valley. In such places sheep were dying of starvation: cattle and horses fared better, as they went out into the uplands to browse46 on the bushes. The valley soil is thin, being principally sand and gravel, with a slight admixture of vegetable mould; and its original vegetation was made up of coarse perennial47 grasses, herbaceous shrubs48 and rushes: the domestic cattle introduced by the white settlers destroyed these slow-growing grasses and plants, and, as has happened in most temperate49 regions of the globe colonised by Europeans, the sweet, quick-growing, short-lived grasses and clovers of the Old World sprang up and occupied the soil. Here, however, owing to its poverty, the excessive dryness of the climate, and the violence of the winds that prevail in summer, the new imported vegetation has proved but a sorry substitute for the old and vanished. It does not grow large enough to retain the scanty50 moisture, it is too short-lived, and the frail51 quickly-perishing rootlets do not bind52 the earth together, like the tough fibrous blanket formed by the old grasses. The heat burns it to dust and ashes, the wind blows it away, blade and root, and the surface soil with it, in many places disclosing the yellow underlying53 sand with all that was buried in it of old. For the result of this stripping of the surface has been that the sites of numberless villages of the former inhabitants of the valley have been brought to light. I have visited a dozen such village sites in the course of one hour’s walk, so numerous were they. Where the village had been a populous54 one, or inhabited for a long period, the ground was a perfect bed of chipped stones, and among these fragments were found arrow-heads, flint knives and scrapers, mortars55 and pestles56, large round stones with a groove57 in the middle, pieces of hard polished stone used as anvils58, perforated shells, fragments of pottery59, and bones of animals. My host remarked one day that the valley that year had produced nothing but a plentiful60 crop of arrow-heads. The anthropologist61 could not have wished for a more favourable62 year or for a better crop. I collected a large number of these objects; and some three or four hundred arrow-heads which I picked up are at present, I believe, in the famous Pitt–Rivers collection. But I was over-careful. The finest of my treasures, the most curious and beautiful objects I could select, packed apart for greater safety, were unfortunately lost in transit63 — a severe blow, which hurt me more than the wound I had received on the knee.
At some of the villages I examined, within a few yards of the ground where the huts had stood, I found deposits of bones of animals that had been used as food. These were of the rhea, huanaco, deer, peccary, ‘Dolichotis’ or Patagonian hare, armadillo, coypú, vizcacha, with others of smaller mammals and birds. Most numerous among them were the bones of the small cavy (‘Cavia australis’), a form of the guinea-pig; and of the tuco-tuco (‘Ctenomys magellanica’), a small rodent64 with the habits of the mole65.
A most interesting fact was that the arrow-heads I picked up in different villages were of two widely different kinds — the large and rudely fashioned, resembling the Palaeolithic arrow-heads of Europe, and the highly-finished, or Neolithic66, arrow-heads of various forms and sizes, but in most specimens67 an inch and a half to two inches long. Here there were the remains68 of the two great periods of the Stone Age, the last of which continued down till the discovery and colonisation of the country by
Europeans. The weapons and other objects of the latter period were the most abundant, and occurred in the valley: the ruder more ancient weapons were found on the hill-sides, in places where the river cuts into the plateau. The site where I picked up the largest number had been buried to a depth of seven or eight feet; only where the water after heavy rains had washed great masses of sand and gravel away, the arrow-heads, with other weapons and implements69, had been exposed. These deeply-buried settlements were doubtless very ancient.
Coming back to the more modern work, I was delighted to find traces of a something like division of labour in different villages; of the individuality of the worker, and a distinct artistic70 or aesthetic71 taste. I was led to this conclusion by the discovery of a village site where no large round stones, knives and scrapers were found, and no large arrow-heads of the usual type. The only arrow-heads at this spot were about half an inch long, and were probably used only to shoot small birds and mammals. Not only were they minute but most exquisitely72 finished, with a fine serration, and, without an exception, made of some beautiful stone — crystal, agate73, and green, yellow, and horn-coloured flint. It was impossible to take half-a-dozen of these gems74 of colour and workmanship in the hand and not be impressed at once with the idea that beauty had been as much an aim to the worker as utility. Along with these fine arrow-heads I found nothing except one small well-pointed dagger75 of red stone, its handle a cross, about four inches long, and as slender and almost as well rounded as an ordinary lead pencil.
When on this quest I sometimes attempted to picture to myself something of the outer and inner life of the long-vanished inhabitants. The red men of today may be of the same race and blood, the lineal descendants of the workers in stone in Patagonia; but they are without doubt so changed, and have lost so much, that their progenitors76 would not know them, nor acknowledge them as relations. Here, as in North America, contact with a superior race has debased them and ensured their destruction. Some of their wild blood will continue to flow in the veins77 of those who have taken their place; but as a race they will be blotted78 out from earth, as utterly79 extinct in a few decades as the mound-makers80 of the Mississippi valley, and the races that built the forest-grown cities of Yucutan and Central America. The men of the past in the Patagonian valley were alone with nature, makers of their own weapons and self-sustaining, untouched by any outside influence, and with no knowledge of any world beyond their valley and the adjacent uninhabited uplands. And yet, judging even from that dim partial glimpse I had had of their vanished life, in the weapons and fragments I had picked up, it seemed evident that the mind was not wholly dormant81 in them, and that they were slowly progressing to a higher condition.
Beyond that fact I could not go: all efforts to know more, or to imagine more, ended in failure, as all such efforts must end. On another occasion, as I propose to show in a later chapter, the wished vision of the past came unsought and unexpectedly to me, and for a while I saw nature as the savage82 sees it, and as he saw it in that stone age I pondered over, only without the supernaturalism that has so large a place in his mind. By taking thought I am convinced that we can make no progress in this direction, simply because we cannot voluntarily escape from our own personality, our environment, our outlook on nature.
Not only were my efforts idle, but merely to think on the subject sometimes had the effect of bringing a shadow, a something of melancholy83, over my mind, the temper which is fatal to investigation84, causing “all things to droop85 and languish86.” In such a mood I would make my way to one of the half-a-dozen ancient burial-places existing in the neighbourhood of the house I was staying at. As a preference I would go to the largest and most populous, where half an acre of earth was strewn thick with crumbling87 skeletons. Here by searching closely a few arrow-heads and ornaments88, that had been interred89 with the dead, could also be found. And here I would sit and walk about on the hot barren yellow sand — the faithless sand to which the bitter secret had so long ago been vainly entrusted90; careful in walking not to touch an exposed skull91 with my foot, although the hoof92 of the next wild thing that passed would shatter it to pieces like a vessel of fragile glass. The polished intensely white surfaces of such skulls93 as had been longest exposed to the sun reflected the noonday light so powerfully that it almost pained the eyes to look at them. In places where they were thickly crowded together, I would stop to take them up and examine them, one by one, only to put them carefully down again; and sometimes, holding one in my hand, I would pour out the yellow sand that filled its cavity; and watching the shining stream as it fell, only the vainest of vain thoughts and conjectures94 were mine.
收听单词发音 |
1
hospitable
|
|
| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
muster
|
|
| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
glossy
|
|
| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
hue
|
|
| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
modulated
|
|
| 已调整[制]的，被调的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
perch
|
|
| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
hovering
|
|
| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
locusts
|
|
| n.蝗虫( locust的名词复数 )；贪吃的人；破坏者；槐树 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
vertical
|
|
| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
mightier
|
|
| adj. 强有力的，强大的，巨大的 adv. 很，极其 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
gust
|
|
| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
smite
|
|
| v.重击；彻底击败；n.打；尝试；一点儿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
scatter
|
|
| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
chattering
|
|
| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
congregate
|
|
| v.(使)集合，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
vexed
|
|
| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
fowls
|
|
| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
Forsaken
|
|
| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
tenor
|
|
| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
imperatively
|
|
| adv.命令式地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
rambles
|
|
| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
pensive
|
|
| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
inflame
|
|
| v.使燃烧；使极度激动；使发炎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
tonic
|
|
| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
desolate
|
|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
narrative
|
|
| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
serpentining
|
|
| v.像蛇般蜷曲的，蜿蜒的( serpentine的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
33
windings
|
|
| （道路、河流等）蜿蜒的，弯曲的( winding的名词复数 )； 缠绕( wind的现在分词 )； 卷绕； 转动（把手） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
epithet
|
|
| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
gravel
|
|
| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
marvels
|
|
| n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 )；令人惊奇的事物（或事例）；不平凡的成果；成就v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
primitive
|
|
| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
persistent
|
|
| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
mythical
|
|
| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
manifestation
|
|
| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
turbid
|
|
| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
tributary
|
|
| n.支流；纳贡国；adj.附庸的；辅助的；支流的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
scarcity
|
|
| n.缺乏，不足，萧条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
browse
|
|
| vi.随意翻阅，浏览；(牛、羊等)吃草 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
perennial
|
|
| adj.终年的；长久的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
shrubs
|
|
| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
temperate
|
|
| adj.温和的，温带的，自我克制的，不过分的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
scanty
|
|
| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
bind
|
|
| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
underlying
|
|
| adj.在下面的，含蓄的，潜在的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
populous
|
|
| adj.人口稠密的，人口众多的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
mortars
|
|
| n.迫击炮( mortar的名词复数 )；砂浆；房产；研钵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
pestles
|
|
| n.（捣碎或碾磨用的）杵( pestle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
groove
|
|
| n.沟，槽；凹线，（刻出的）线条，习惯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
anvils
|
|
| n.（铁）砧( anvil的名词复数 )；砧骨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
59
pottery
|
|
| n.陶器，陶器场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
plentiful
|
|
| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
anthropologist
|
|
| n.人类学家，人类学者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
favourable
|
|
| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
transit
|
|
| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
rodent
|
|
| n.啮齿动物；adj.啮齿目的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
mole
|
|
| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
neolithic
|
|
| adj.新石器时代的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
specimens
|
|
| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
implements
|
|
| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
artistic
|
|
| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
aesthetic
|
|
| adj.美学的，审美的，有美感 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
exquisitely
|
|
| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
agate
|
|
| n.玛瑙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
gems
|
|
| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
dagger
|
|
| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
progenitors
|
|
| n.祖先( progenitor的名词复数 )；先驱；前辈；原本 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
blotted
|
|
| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
makers
|
|
| n.制造者，制造商（maker的复数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
dormant
|
|
| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
investigation
|
|
| n.调查，调查研究 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
droop
|
|
| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
languish
|
|
| vi.变得衰弱无力，失去活力，（植物等）凋萎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
crumbling
|
|
| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
ornaments
|
|
| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
interred
|
|
| v.埋，葬( inter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
skull
|
|
| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
hoof
|
|
| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
skulls
|
|
| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
conjectures
|
|
| 推测，猜想( conjecture的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |