At the same time his heart had begun to ache and long after the communion of his kind. For not once since he set out—and that seemed months where it was only weeks, had he had an opportunity of doing anything for anybody—except, indeed, unfastening the dog's collar; and not to be able to help was to Gibbie like being dead. Everybody, down to the dogs, had been doing for him, and what was to become of him! It was a state altogether of servitude into which he had fallen.
May had now set in, but up here among the hills she was May by courtesy only: or if she was May, she would never be Might. She was, indeed, only April, with her showers and sunshine, her tearful, childish laughter, and again the frown, and the despair irremediable. Nay10, as if she still kept up a secret correspondence with her cousin March, banished11 for his rudeness, she would not very seldom shake from her skirts a snow storm, and oftener the dancing hail. Then out would come the sun behind her, and laugh, and say—"I could not help that; but here I am all the same, coming to you as fast as I can!" The green crops were growing darker, and the trees were all getting out their nets to catch carbon. The lambs were frolicking, and in sheltered places the flowers were turning the earth into a firmament12. And now a mere daisy was enough to delight the heart of Gibbie. His joy in humanity so suddenly checked, and his thirst for it left unslaked, he had begun to see the human look in the face of the commonest flowers, to love the trusting stare of the daisy, that gold-hearted boy, and the gentle despondency of the girl harebell, dreaming of her mother, the azure13. The wind, of which he had scarce thought as he met it roaming the streets like himself, was now a friend of his solitude14, bringing him sweet odours, alive with the souls of bees, and cooling with bliss15 the heat of the long walk. Even when it blew cold along the waste moss16, waving the heads of the cotton-grass, the only live thing visible, it was a lover, and kissed him on the forehead. Not that Gibbie knew what a kiss was, any more than he knew about the souls of bees. He did not remember ever having been kissed. In that granite17 city, the women were not much given to kissing children, even their own, but if they had been, who of them would have thought of kissing Gibbie! The baker's wife, kind as she always was to him, would have thought it defilement18 to press her lips to those of the beggar child. And how is any child to thrive without kisses! The first caresses19 Gibbie ever knew as such, were given him by Mother Nature herself. It was only, however, by degrees, though indeed rapid degrees, that he became capable of them. In the first part of his journey he was stunned20, stupid, lost in change, distracted between a suddenly vanished past, and a future slow dawning in the present. He felt little beyond hunger, and that vague urging up Daurside, with occasional shoots of pleasure from kindness, mostly of woman and dog. He was less shy of the country people by this time, but he did not care to seek them. He thought them not nearly so friendly and good as the town-people, forgetting that these knew him and those did not. To Gibbie an introduction was the last thing necessary for any one who wore a face, and he could not understand why they looked at him so.
Whatever is capable of aspiring21, must be troubled that it may wake and aspire22—then troubled still, that it may hold fast, be itself, and aspire still.
One evening his path vanished between twilight23 and moonrise, and just as it became dark he found himself at a rough gate, through which he saw a field. There was a pretty tall hedge on each side of the gate, and he was now a sufficiently24 experienced traveller to conclude that he was not far from some human abode7. He climbed the gate and found himself in a field of clover. It was a splendid big bed, and even had the night not been warm, he would not have hesitated to sleep in it. He had never had a cold, and had as little fear for his health as for his life. He was hungry, it is true; but although food was doubtless more delicious to such hunger as his—that of the whole body, than it can be to the mere palate and culinary imagination of an epicure25, it was not so necessary to him that he could not go to sleep without it. So down he lay in the clover, and was at once unconscious.
When he woke, the moon was high in the heavens, and had melted the veil of the darkness from the scene of still, well-ordered comfort. A short distance from his couch, stood a little army of ricks, between twenty and thirty of them, constructed perfectly—smooth and upright and round and large, each with its conical top netted in with straw-rope, and finished off with what the herd-boy called a toupican—a neatly26 tied and trim tuft of the straw with which it was thatched, answering to the stone-ball on the top of a gable. Like triangles their summits stood out against the pale blue, moon-diluted air. They were treasure-caves, hollowed out of space, and stored with the best of ammunition27 against the armies of hunger and want; but Gibbie, though he had seen many of them, did not know what they were. He had seen straw used for the bedding of cattle and horses, and supposed that the chief end of such ricks. Nor had he any clear idea that the cattle themselves were kept for any other object than to make them comfortable and happy. He had stood behind their houses in the dark, and heard them munching28 and grinding away even in the night. Probably the country was for the cattle, as the towns for the men; and that would explain why the country-people were so inferior. While he stood gazing, a wind arose behind the hills, and came blowing down some glen that opened northwards; Gibbie felt it cold, and sought the shelter of the ricks.
Great and solemn they looked as he drew nigh—near each other, yet enough apart for plenty of air to flow and eddy29 between. Over a low wall of unmortared stones, he entered their ranks: above him, as he looked up from their broad base, they ascended30 huge as pyramids, and peopled the waste air with giant forms. How warm it was in the round-winding paths amongst the fruitful piles—tombs these, no cenotaphs! He wandered about them, now in a dusky yellow gloom, and now in the cold blue moonlight, which they seemed to warm. At length he discovered that the huge things were flanked on one side by a long low house, in which there was a door, horizontally divided into two parts. Gibbie would fain have got in, to try whether the place was good for sleep; but he found both halves fast. In the lower half, however, he spied a hole, which, though not so large, reminded him of the entrance to the kennel31 of his dog host; but alas32! it had a door too, shut from the inside. There might be some way of opening it. He felt about, and soon discovered that it was a sliding valve, which he could push to either side. It was, in fact, the cat's door, specially33 constructed for her convenience of entrance and exit. For the cat is the guardian34 of the barn; the grain which tempts35 the rats and mice is no temptation to her; the rats and mice themselves are; upon them she executes justice, and remains36 herself an incorruptible, because untempted, therefore a respectable member of the farm-community—only the dairy door must be kept shut; that has no cat-wicket in it.
The hole was a small one, but tempting37 to the wee baronet; he might perhaps be able to squeeze himself through. He tried and succeeded, though with some little difficulty. The moon was there before him, shining through a pane38 or two of glass over the door, and by her light on the hard brown clay floor, Gibbie saw where he was, though if he had been told he was in the barn, he would neither have felt nor been at all the wiser. It was a very old-fashioned barn. About a third of it was floored with wood—dark with age—almost as brown as the clay—for threshing upon with flails39. At that labour two men had been busy during the most of the preceding day, and that was how, in the same end of the barn, rose a great heap of oat-straw, showing in the light of the moon like a mound40 of pale gold. Had Gibbie had any education in the marvellous, he might now, in the midnight and moonlight, have well imagined himself in some treasure-house of the gnomes41. What he saw in the other corner was still liker gold, and was indeed greater than gold, for it was life—the heap, namely, of corn threshed from the straw: Gibbie recognized this as what he had seen given to horses. But now the temptation to sleep, with such facilities presented, was overpowering, and took from him all desire to examine further: he shot into the middle of the loose heap of straw, and vanished from the glimpses of the moon, burrowing42 like a mole43. In the heart of the golden warmth, he lay so dry and comfortable that, notwithstanding his hunger had waked with him, he was presently in a faster sleep than before. And indeed what more luxurious44 bed, or what bed conducive45 to softer slumber46 was there in the world to find!
"The moving moon went down the sky," the cold wind softened47 and grew still; the stars swelled48 out larger; the rats came, and then came puss, and the rats went with a scuffle and patter; the pagan grey came in like a sleep-walker, and made the barn dreary49 as a dull dream; then the horses began to fidget with their big feet, the cattle to low with their great trombone throats, and the cocks to crow as if to give warning for the last time against the devil, the world, and the flesh; the men in the adjoining chamber50 woke, yawned, stretched themselves mightily51, and rose; the god-like sun rose after them, and, entering the barn with them, drove out the grey; and through it all the orphan52 lay warm in God's keeping and his nest of straw, like the butterfly of a huge chrysalis.
When at length Gibbie became once more aware of existence, it was through a stormy invasion of the still realm of sleep; the blows of two flails fell persistent53 and quick-following, first on the thick head of the sheaf of oats untied54 and cast down before them, then grew louder and more deafening55 as the oats flew and the chaff56 fluttered, and the straw flattened57 and broke and thinned and spread—until at last they thundered in great hard blows on the wooden floor. It was the first of these last blows that shook Gibbie awake. What they were or indicated he could not tell. He wormed himself softly round in the straw to look out and see.
Now whether it was that sleep was yet heavy upon him, and bewildered his eyes, or that his imagination had in dreams been busy with foregone horrors, I cannot tell; but, as he peered through the meshes58 of the crossing and blinding straws, what he seemed to see was the body of an old man with dishevelled hair, whom, prostrate59 on the ground, they were beating to death with great sticks. His tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, not a sound could he utter, not a finger could he move; he had no choice but to lie still, and witness the fierce enormity. But it is good that we are compelled to see some things, life amongst the rest, to what we call the end of them. By degrees Gibbie's sight cleared; the old man faded away; and what was left of him he could see to be only an armful of straw. The next sheaf they threw down, he perceived, under their blows, the corn flying out of it, and began to understand a little. When it was finished, the corn that had flown dancing from its home, like hail from its cloud, was swept aside to the common heap, and the straw tossed up on the mound that harboured Gibbie. It was well that the man with the pitchfork did not spy his eyes peering out from the midst of the straw: he might have taken him for some wild creature, and driven the prongs into him. As it was, Gibbie did not altogether like the look of him, and lay still as a stone. Then another sheaf was unbound and cast on the floor, and the blows of the flails began again. It went on thus for an hour and a half, and Gibbie although he dropped asleep several times, was nearly stupid with the noise. The men at length, however, swept up the corn and tossed up the straw for the last time, and went out. Gibbie, judging by his own desires, thought they must have gone to eat, but did not follow them, having generally been ordered away the moment he was seen in a farmyard. He crept out, however, and began to look about him—first of all for something he could eat. The oats looked the most likely, and he took a mouthful for a trial. He ground at them severely60, but, hungry as he was, he failed to find oats good for food. Their hard husks, their dryness, their instability, all slipping past each other at every attempt to crush them with his teeth, together foiled him utterly61. He must search farther. Looking round him afresh, he saw an open loft62, and climbing on the heap in which he had slept, managed to reach it. It was at the height of the walls, and the couples of the roof rose immediately from it. At the farther end was a heap of hay, which he took for another kind of straw. Then he spied something he knew; a row of cheeses lay on a shelf suspended from the rafters, ripening63. Gibbie knew them well from the shop windows—knew they were cheeses, and good to eat, though whence and how they came he did not know, his impression being that they grew in the fields like the turnips64. He had still the notion uncorrected, that things in the country belonged to nobody in particular, and were mostly for the use of animals, with which, since he became a wanderer, he had almost come to class himself. He was very hungry. He pounced65 upon a cheese and lifted it between his two hands; it smelled good, but felt very hard. That was no matter: what else were teeth made strong and sharp for? He tried them on one of the round edges, and, nibbling66 actively67, soon got through to the softer body of the cheese. But he had not got much farther when he heard the men returning, and desisted, afraid of being discovered by the noise he made. The readiest way to conceal68 himself was to lie down flat on the loft, and he did so just where he could see the threshing-floor over the edge of it by lifting his head. This, however, he scarcely ventured to do; and all he could see as he lay was the tip of the swing-bar of one of the flails, ever as it reached the highest point of its ascent69. But to watch for it very soon ceased to be interesting; and although he had eaten so little of the cheese, it had yet been enough to make him dreadfully thirsty, therefore he greatly desired to get away. But he dared not go down: with their sticks those men might knock him over in a moment! So he lay there thinking of the poor little hedgehog he had seen on the road as he came; how he stood watching it, and wishing he had a suit made all of great pins, which he could set up when he pleased; and how the driver of a cart, catching70 sight of him at the foot of the hedge, gave him a blow with his whip, and, poor fellow! notwithstanding his clothes of pins, that one blow of a whip was too much for him! There seemed nothing in the world but killing71!
At length he could, unoccupied with something else, bear his thirst no longer, and, squirming round on the floor, crept softly towards the other end of the loft, to see what was to be seen there.
He found that the heap of hay was not in the loft at all. It filled a small chamber in the stable, in fact; and when Gibbie clambered upon it, what should he see below him on the other side, but a beautiful white horse, eating some of the same sort of stuff he was now lying upon! Beyond he could see the backs of more horses, but they were very different—big and clumsy, and not white. They were all eating, and this was their food on which he lay! He wished he too could eat it—and tried, but found it even less satisfactory than the oats, for it nearly choked him, and set him coughing so that he was in considerable danger of betraying his presence to the men in the barn. How did the horses manage to get such dry stuff down their throats? But the cheese was dry too, and he could eat that! No doubt the cheese, as well as the fine straw, was there for the horses! He would like to see the beautiful white creature down there eat a bit of it; but with all his big teeth he did not think he could manage a whole cheese, and how to get a piece broken off for him, with those men there, he could not devise. It would want a long-handled hammer like those with which he had seen men breaking stones on the road.
A door opened beyond, and a man came in and led two of the horses out, leaving the door open. Gibbie clambered down from the top of the hay into the stall beside the white horse, and ran out. He was almost in the fields, had not even a fence to cross.
He cast a glance around, and went straight for a neighbouring hollow, where, taught by experience, he hoped to find water.
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1
dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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2
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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3
pebbly
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| 多卵石的，有卵石花纹的 | |
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4
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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rivulet
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| n.小溪，小河 | |
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6
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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7
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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abodes
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| 住所( abode的名词复数 )； 公寓； （在某地的）暂住； 逗留 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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10
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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11
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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13
azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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14
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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16
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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18
defilement
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| n.弄脏，污辱，污秽 | |
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19
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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20
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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21
aspiring
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| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
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22
aspire
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| vi.(to，after)渴望，追求，有志于 | |
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23
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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24
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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epicure
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| n.行家，美食家 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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28
munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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30
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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32
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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35
tempts
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| v.引诱或怂恿（某人）干不正当的事( tempt的第三人称单数 )；使想要 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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39
flails
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| v.鞭打( flail的第三人称单数 )；用连枷脱粒；（臂或腿）无法控制地乱动；扫雷坦克 | |
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40
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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41
gnomes
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| n.矮子( gnome的名词复数 )；侏儒；（尤指金融市场上搞投机的）银行家；守护神 | |
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42
burrowing
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的现在分词 )；翻寻 | |
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43
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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44
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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45
conducive
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| adj.有益的，有助的 | |
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46
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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47
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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48
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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49
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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50
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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51
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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52
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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53
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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54
untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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55
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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56
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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57
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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58
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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59
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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60
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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61
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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62
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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63
ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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64
turnips
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| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
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65
pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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66
nibbling
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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67
actively
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| adv.积极地，勤奋地 | |
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68
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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69
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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70
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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71
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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