“Wait till Sunday,” he said to Saxon. “I'll give that poet a run for his money. Why, they ain't a place that bothers me now. I've got the head confidence. I run where I went on hands an' knees. I figured it out this way: Suppose you had a foot to fall on each side, an' it was soft hay. They'd be nothing to stop you. You wouldn't fall. You'd go like a streak1. Then it's just the same if it's a mile down on each side. That ain't your concern. Your concern is to stay on top and go like a streak. An', d'ye know, Saxon, when I went at it that way it never bothered me at all. Wait till he comes with his crowd Sunday. I'm ready for him.”
“I wonder what the crowd will be like,” Saxon speculated.
“Like him, of course. Birds of a feather flock together. They won't be stuck up, any of them, you'll see.”
Hall had sent out fish-lines and a swimming suit by a Mexican cowboy bound south to his ranch3, and from the latter they learned much of the government land and how to get it. The week flew by; each day Saxon sighed a farewell of happiness to the sun; each morning they greeted its return with laughter of joy in that another happy day had begun. They made no plans, but fished, gathered mussels and abalones, and climbed among the rocks as the moment moved them. The abalone meat they pounded religiously to a verse of doggerel4 improvised5 by Saxon. Billy prospered6. Saxon had never seen him at so keen a pitch of health. As for herself, she scarcely needed the little hand-mirror to know that never, since she was a young girl, had there been such color in her cheeks, such spontaneity of vivacity7.
“It's the first time in my life I ever had real play,” Billy said. “An' you an' me never played at all all the time we was married. This beats bein' any kind of a millionaire.”
“No seven o'clock whistle,” Saxon exulted8. “I'd lie abed in the mornings on purpose, only everything is too good not to be up. And now you just play at chopping some firewood and catching9 a nice big perch10, Man Friday, if you expect to get any dinner.”
Billy got up, hatchet11 in hand, from where he had been lying prone12, digging holes in the sand with his bare toes.
“But it ain't goin' to last,” he said, with a deep sigh of regret. “The rains'll come any time now. The good weather's hangin' on something wonderful.”
On Saturday morning, returning from his run out the south wall, he missed Saxon. After helloing for her without result, he climbed to the road. Half a mile away, he saw her astride an unsaddled, unbridled horse that moved unwillingly13, at a slow walk, across the pasture.
“Lucky for you it was an old mare14 that had been used to ridin'—see them saddle marks,” he grumbled15, when she at last drew to a halt beside him and allowed him to help her down.
“Oh, Billy,” she sparkled, “I was never on a horse before. It was glorious! I felt so helpless, too, and so brave.”
“I'm proud of you, just the same,” he said, in more grumbling16 tones than before. “'Tain't every married woman'd tackle a strange horse that way, especially if she'd never ben on one. An' I ain't forgot that you're goin' to have a saddle animal all to yourself some day—a regular Joe dandy.”
The Abalone Eaters, in two rigs and on a number of horses, descended17 in force on Bierce's Cove18. There were half a score of men and almost as many women. All were young, between the ages of twenty-five and forty, and all seemed good friends. Most of them were married. They arrived in a roar of good spirits, tripping one another down the slippery trail and engulfing19 Saxon and Billy in a comradeship as artless and warm as the sunshine itself. Saxon was appropriated by the girls—she could not realize them women; and they made much of her, praising her camping and traveling equipment and insisting on hearing some of her tale. They were experienced campers themselves, as she quickly discovered when she saw the pots and pans and clothes-boilers for the mussels which they had brought.
In the meantime Billy and the men had undressed and scattered20 out after mussels and abalones. The girls lighted on Saxon's ukulele and nothing would do but she must play and sing. Several of them had been to Honolulu, and knew the instrument, confirming Mercedes' definition of ukulele as “jumping flea21.” Also, they knew Hawaiian songs she had learned from Mercedes, and soon, to her accompaniment, all were singing: “Aloha Oe,” “Honolulu Tomboy,” and “Sweet Lei Lehua.” Saxon was genuinely shocked when some of them, even the more matronly, danced hulas on the sand.
When the men returned, burdened with sacks of shellfish, Mark Hall, as high priest, commanded the due and solemn rite22 of the tribe. At a wave of his hand, the many poised23 stones came down in unison24 on the white meat, and all voices were uplifted in the Hymn25 to the Abalone. Old verses all sang, occasionally some one sang a fresh verse alone, whereupon it was repeated in chorus. Billy betrayed Saxon by begging her in an undertone to sing the verse she had made, and her pretty voice was timidly raised in:
“We sit around and gaily26 pound, And bear no acrimony Because our ob—ject is a gob Of sizzling abalone.”
“Great!” cried the poet, who had winced27 at ob—ject. “She speaks the language of the tribe! Come on, children—now!”
And all chanted Saxon's lines. Then Jim Hazard had a new verse, and one of the girls, and the Iron Man with the basilisk eyes of greenish-gray, whom Saxon recognized from Hall's description. To her it seemed he had the face of a priest.
“Oh! some like ham and some like lamb And some like macaroni; But bring me in a pail of gin And a tub of abalone.
“Oh! some drink rain and some champagne28 Or brandy by the pony29; But I will try a little rye With a dash of abalone.
“Some live on hope and some on dope And some on alimony. But our tom-cat, he lives on fat And tender abalone.”
A black-haired, black-eyed man with the roguish face of a satyr, who, Saxon learned, was an artist who sold his paintings at five hundred apiece, brought on himself universal execration30 and acclamation by singing:
“The more we take, the more they make In deep sea matrimony; Race suicide cannot betide The fertile abalone.”
And so it went, verses new and old, verses without end, all in glorification31 of the succulent shellfish of Carmel. Saxon's enjoyment32 was keen, almost ecstatic, and she had difficulty in convincing herself of the reality of it all. It seemed like some fairy tale or book story come true. Again, it seemed more like a stage, and these the actors, she and Billy having blundered into the scene in some incomprehensible way. Much of wit she sensed which she did not understand. Much she did understand. And she was aware that brains were playing as she had never seen brains play before. The puritan streak in her training was astonished and shocked by some of the broadness; but she refused to sit in judgment33. They SEEMED good, these light-hearted young people; they certainly were not rough or gross as were many of the crowds she had been with on Sunday picnics. None of the men got drunk, although there were cocktails34 in vacuum bottles and red wine in a huge demijohn.
What impressed Saxon most was their excessive jollity, their childlike joy, and the childlike things they did. This effect was heightened by the fact that they were novelists and painters, poets and critics, sculptors35 and musicians. One man, with a refined and delicate face—a dramatic critic on a great San Francisco daily, she was told—introduced a feat2 which all the men tried and failed at most ludicrously. On the beach, at regular intervals37, planks38 were placed as obstacles. Then the dramatic critic, on all fours, galloped39 along the sand for all the world like a horse, and for all the world like a horse taking hurdles40 he jumped the planks to the end of the course.
Quoits had been brought along, and for a while these were pitched with zest41. Then jumping was started, and game slid into game. Billy took part in everything, but did not win first place as often as he had expected. An English writer beat him a dozen feet at tossing the caber. Jim Hazard beat him in putting the heavy “rock.” Mark Hall out-jumped him standing42 and running. But at the standing high back-jump Billy did come first. Despite the handicap of his weight, this victory was due to his splendid back and abdominal43 lifting muscles. Immediately after this, however, he was brought to grief by Mark Hall's sister, a strapping45 young amazon in cross-saddle riding costume, who three times tumbled him ignominiously46 heels over head in a bout47 of Indian wrestling.
“You're easy,” jeered48 the Iron Man, whose name they had learned was Pete Bideaux. “I can put you down myself, catch-as-catch-can.”
Billy accepted the challenge, and found in all truth that the other was rightly nicknamed. In the training camps Billy had sparred and clinched49 with giant champions like Jim Jeffries and Jack50 Johnson, and met the weight of their strength, but never had he encountered strength like this of the Iron Man. Do what he could, Billy was powerless, and twice his shoulders were ground into the sand in defeat.
“You'll get a chance back at him,” Hazard whispered to Billy, off at one side. “I've brought the gloves along. Of course, you had no chance with him at his own game. He's wrestled51 in the music halls in London with Hackenschmidt. Now you keep quiet, and we'll lead up to it in a casual sort of way. He doesn't know about you.”
Soon, the Englishman who had tossed the caber was sparring with the dramatic critic, Hazard and Hall boxed in fantastic burlesque52, then, gloves in hand, looked for the next appropriately matched couple. The choice of Bideaux and Billy was obvious.
“He's liable to get nasty if he's hurt,” Hazard warned Billy, as he tied on the gloves for him. “He's old American French, and he's got a devil of a temper. But just keep your head and tap him—whatever you do, keep tapping him.”
“Easy sparring now”; “No roughhouse, Bideaux”; “Just light tapping, you know,” were admonitions variously addressed to the Iron Man.
“Hold on a second,” he said to Billy, dropping his hands. “When I get rapped I do get a bit hot. But don't mind me. I can't help it, you know. It's only for the moment, and I don't mean it.”
Saxon felt very nervous, visions of Billy's bloody53 fights and all the scabs he had slugged rising in her brain; but she had never seen her husband box, and but few seconds were required to put her at ease. The Iron Man had no chance. Billy was too completely the master, guarding every blow, himself continually and almost at will tapping the other's face and body. There was no weight in Billy's blows, only a light and snappy tingle54; but their incessant55 iteration told on the Iron Man's temper. In vain the onlookers56 warned him to go easy. His face purpled with anger, and his blows became savage57. But Billy went on, tap, tap, tap, calmly, gently, imperturbably58. The Iron Man lost control, and rushed and plunged59, delivering great swings and upper-cuts of man-killing quality. Billy ducked, side-stepped, blocked, stalled, and escaped all damage. In the clinches60, which were unavoidable, he locked the Iron Man's arms, and in the clinches the Iron Man invariably laughed and apologized, only to lose his head with the first tap the instant they separated and be more infuriated than ever.
And when it was over and Billy's identity had been divulged61, the Iron Man accepted the joke on himself with the best of humor. It had been a splendid exhibition on Billy's part. His mastery of the sport, coupled with his self-control, had most favorably impressed the crowd, and Saxon, very proud of her man boy, could not but see the admiration62 all had for him.
Nor did she prove in any way a social failure. When the tired and sweating players lay down in the dry sand to cool off, she was persuaded into accompanying their nonsense songs with the ukulele. Nor was it long, catching their spirit, ere she was singing to them and teaching them quaint63 songs of early days which she had herself learned as a little girl from Cady—Cady, the saloonkeeper, pioneer, and ex-cavalryman, who had been a bull-whacker on the Salt Intake64 Trail in the days before the railroad.
“Oh! times on Bitter Creek65, they never can be beat, Root hog66 or die is on every wagon67 sheet; The sand within your throat, the dust within your eye, Bend your back and stand it—root hog or die.”
After the dozen verses of “Root Hog or Die,” Mark Hall claimed to be especially infatuated with:
“Obadier, he dreampt a dream, Dreampt he was drivin' a ten-mule team, But when he woke he heaved a sigh, The lead-mule kicked e-o-wt the swing-mule's eye.”
It was Mark Hall who brought up the matter of Billy's challenge to race out the south wall of the cove, though he referred to the test as lying somewhere in the future. Billy surprised him by saying he was ready at any time. Forthwith the crowd clamored for the race. Hall offered to bet on himself, but there were no takers. He offered two to one to Jim Hazard, who shook his head and said he would accept three to one as a sporting proposition. Billy heard and gritted68 his teeth.
“I'll take you for five dollars,” he said to Hall, “but not at those odds69. I'll back myself even.”
“It isn't your money I want; it's Hazard's,” Hall demurred70. “Though I'll give either of you three to one.”
“Even or nothing,” Billy held out obstinately71.
Hall finally closed both bets—even with Billy, and three to one with Hazard.
The path along the knife-edge was so narrow that it was impossible for runners to pass each other, so it was arranged to time the men, Hall to go first and Billy to follow after an interval36 of half a minute.
Hall toed the mark and at the word was off with the form of a sprinter72. Saxon's heart sank. She knew Billy had never crossed the stretch of sand at that speed. Billy darted73 forward thirty seconds later, and reached the foot of the rock when Hall was half way up. When both were on top and racing74 from notch75 to notch, the Iron Man announced that they had scaled the wall in the same time to a second.
“My money still looks good,” Hazard remarked, “though I hope neither of them breaks a neck. I wouldn't take that run that way for all the gold that would fill the cove.”
“But you'll take bigger chances swimming in a storm on Carmel Beach,” his wife chided.
“Oh, I don't know,” he retorted. “You haven't so far to fall when swimming.”
Billy and Hall had disappeared and were making the circle around the end. Those on the beach were certain that the poet had gained in the dizzy spurts76 of flight along the knife-edge. Even Hazard admitted it.
“What price for my money now?” he cried excitedly, dancing up and down.
Hall had reappeared, the great jump accomplished77, and was running shoreward. But there was no gap. Billy was on his heels, and on his heels he stayed, in to shore, down the wall, and to the mark on the beach. Billy had won by half a minute.
“Only by the watch,” he panted. “Hall was over half a minute ahead of me out to the end. I'm not slower than I thought, but he's faster. He's a wooz of a sprinter. He could beat me ten times outa ten, except for accident. He was hung up at the jump by a big sea. That's where I caught 'm. I jumped right after 'm on the same sea, then he set the pace home, and all I had to do was take it.”
“That's all right,” said Hall. “You did better than beat me. That's the first time in the history of Bierce's Cove that two men made that jump on the same sea. And all the risk was yours, coming last.”
“It was a fluke,” Billy insisted.
And at that point Saxon settled the dispute of modesty78 and raised a general laugh by rippling79 chords on the ukulele and parodying80 an old hymn in negro minstrel fashion:
“De Lawd move in er mischievous81 way His blunders to perform.”
In the afternoon Jim Hazard and Hall dived into the breakers and swam to the outlying rocks, routing the protesting sea-lions and taking possession of their surf-battered stronghold. Billy followed the swimmers with his eyes, yearning82 after them so undisguisedly that Mrs. Hazard said to him:
“Why don't you stop in Carmel this winter? Jim will teach you all he knows about the surf. And he's wild to box with you. He works long hours at his desk, and he really needs exercise.”
Not until sunset did the merry crowd carry their pots and pans and trove83 of mussels up to the road and depart. Saxon and Billy watched them disappear, on horses and behind horses, over the top of the first hill, and then descended hand in hand through the thicket84 to the camp. Billy threw himself on the sand and stretched out.
“I don't know when I've been so tired,” he yawned. “An' there's one thing sure: I never had such a day. It's worth livin' twenty years for an' then some.”
He reached out his hand to Saxon, who lay beside him.
“And, oh, I was so proud of you, Billy,” she said. “I never saw you box before. I didn't know it was like that. The Iron Man was at your mercy all the time, and you kept it from being violent or terrible. Everybody could look on and enjoy—and they did, too.”
“Huh, I want to say you was goin' some yourself. They just took to you. Why, honest to God, Saxon, in the singin' you was the whole show, along with the ukulele. All the women liked you, too, an' that's what counts.”
It was their first social triumph, and the taste of it was sweet:
“Mr. Hall said he'd looked up the 'Story of the Files,'” Saxon recounted. “And he said mother was a true poet. He said it was astonishing the fine stock that had crossed the Plains. He told me a lot about those times and the people I didn't know. And he's read all about the fight at Little Meadow. He says he's got it in a book at home, and if we come back to Carmel he'll show it to me.”
“He wants us to come back all right. D'ye know what he said to me, Saxon? He gave me a letter to some guy that's down on the government land—some poet that's holdin' down a quarter of a section—so we'll be able to stop there, which'll come in handy if the big rains catch us. An'—Oh! that's what I was drivin' at. He said he had a little shack85 he lived in while the house was buildin'. The Iron Man's livin' in it now, but he's goin' away to some Catholic college to study to be a priest, an' Hall said the shack'd be ours as long as we wanted to use it. An' he said I could do what the Iron Man was doin' to make a livin'. Hall was kind of bashful when he was offerin' me work. Said it'd be only odd jobs, but that we'd make out. I could help'm plant potatoes, he said; an' he got half savage when he said I couldn't chop wood. That was his job, he said; an' you could see he was actually jealous over it.”
“And Mrs. Hall said just about the same to me, Billy. Carmel wouldn't be so bad to pass the rainy season in. And then, too, you could go swimming with Mr. Hazard.”
“Seems as if we could settle down wherever we've a mind to,” Billy assented86. “Carmel's the third place now that's offered. Well, after this, no man need be afraid of makin' a go in the country.”
“No good man,” Saxon corrected.
“I guess you're right.” Billy thought for a moment. “Just the same a dub87, too, has a better chance in the country than in the city.”
“Who'd have ever thought that such fine people existed?” Saxon pondered. “It's just wonderful, when you come to think of it.”
“It's only what you'd expect from a rich poet that'd trip up a foot-racer at an Irish picnic,” Billy exposited.
“The only crowd such a guy'd run with would be like himself, or he'd make a crowd that was. I wouldn't wonder that he'd make this crowd. Say, he's got some sister, if anybody'd ride up on a sea-lion an' ask you. She's got that Indian wrestlin' down pat, an' she's built for it. An' say, ain't his wife a beaut?”
A little longer they lay in the warm sand. It was Billy who broke the silence, and what he said seemed to proceed out of profound meditation88.
“Say, Saxon, d'ye know I don't care if I never see movie pictures again.”
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收听单词发音
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1
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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2
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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doggerel
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| n.拙劣的诗，打油诗 | |
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5
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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6
prospered
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7
vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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8
exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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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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hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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15
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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16
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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engulfing
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| adj.吞噬的v.吞没，包住( engulf的现在分词 ) | |
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20
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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flea
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| n.跳蚤 | |
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rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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unison
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| n.步调一致，行动一致 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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execration
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| n.诅咒，念咒，憎恶 | |
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glorification
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| n.赞颂 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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cocktails
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| n.鸡尾酒( cocktail的名词复数 )；餐前开胃菜；混合物 | |
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sculptors
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| 雕刻家，雕塑家( sculptor的名词复数 )； [天]玉夫座 | |
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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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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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38
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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39
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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40
hurdles
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| n.障碍( hurdle的名词复数 )；跳栏；（供人或马跳跃的）栏架；跨栏赛 | |
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41
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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42
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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43
abdominal
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| adj.腹（部）的，下腹的；n.腹肌 | |
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44
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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45
strapping
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| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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46
ignominiously
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| adv.耻辱地，屈辱地，丢脸地 | |
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47
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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48
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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50
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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51
wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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52
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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54
tingle
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| vi.感到刺痛，感到激动；n.刺痛，激动 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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imperturbably
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| adv.泰然地，镇静地，平静地 | |
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59
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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clinches
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| n.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的名词复数 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议）v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的第三人称单数 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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61
divulged
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| v.吐露，泄露( divulge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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intake
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| n.吸入，纳入；进气口，入口 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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67
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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69
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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72
sprinter
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| n.短跑运动员，短距离全速奔跑者 | |
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73
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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74
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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notch
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| n.(V字形)槽口，缺口，等级 | |
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spurts
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| 短暂而突然的活动或努力( spurt的名词复数 )； 突然奋起 | |
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77
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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78
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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80
parodying
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| v.滑稽地模仿，拙劣地模仿( parody的现在分词 ) | |
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81
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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82
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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83
trove
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| n.被发现的东西，收藏的东西 | |
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84
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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85
shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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86
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
dub
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| vt.（以某种称号）授予，给...起绰号，复制 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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