Stoneman's Lake Road was famous, as I afterwards heard. Perhaps it was just as well for me that I did not know about it in advance.
The sure-footed mules3 picked their way over these sharp-edged rocks. There was not a moment's respite4. We asked a soldier to help with holding the baby, for my arms gave out entirely5, and were as if paralyzed. The jolting6 threw us all by turns against the sides of the ambulance (which was not padded), and we all got some rather bad bruises7. We finally bethought ourselves of the pappoose basket, which we had brought along in the ambulance, having at the last moment no other place to put it. So a halt was called, we placed the tired baby in this semi-cradle, laced the sides snugly8 over him, and were thus enabled to carry him over those dreadful roads without danger.
He did not cry much, but the dust made him thirsty. I could not give him nourishment10 without stopping the entire train of wagons11, on account of the constant pitching of the ambulance; delay was not advisable or expedient12, so my poor little son had to endure with the rest of us. The big Alsatian cavalryman14 held the cradle easily in his strong arms, and so the long miles were travelled, one by one.
At noon of this day we made a refreshing15 halt, built a fire and took some luncheon16. We found a shady, grassy17 spot, upon which the blankets were spread, and we stretched ourselves out upon them and rested. But we were still some miles from water, so after a short respite we were compelled to push on. We had been getting steadily18 higher since leaving Sunset Crossing, and now it began to be cold and looked like snow. Mrs. Bailey and I found it very trying to meet these changes of temperature. A good place for the camp was found at Coxe's Tanks, trenches19 were dug around the tents, and the earth banked up to keep us warm. The cool air, our great fatigue20, and the comparative absence of danger combined to give us a heavenly night's rest.
Towards sunset of the next day, which was May Day, our cavalcade21 reached Stoneman's Lake. We had had another rough march, and had reached the limit of endurance, or thought we had, when we emerged from a mountain pass and drew rein22 upon the high green mesa overlooking Stoneman's Lake, a beautiful blue sheet of water lying there away below us. It was good to our tired eyes, which had gazed upon nothing but burnt rocks and alkali plains for so many days. Our camp was beautiful beyond description, and lay near the edge of the mesa, whence we could look down upon the lovely lake. It was a complete surprise to us, as points of scenery were not much known or talked about then in Arizona. Ponds and lakes were unheard of. They did not seem to exist in that drear land of arid23 wastes. We never heard of water except that of the Colorado or the Gila or the tanks and basins, and irrigation ditches of the settlers. But here was a real Italian lake, a lake as blue as the skies above us. We feasted our eyes and our very souls upon it.
Bailey and the guide shot some wild turkeys, and as we had already eaten all the mutton we had along, the ragout of turkey made by the soldier-cook for our supper tasted better to us tired and hungry travellers, perhaps, than a canvasback at Delmonico's tastes to the weary lounger or the over-worked financier.
In the course of the day, we had passed a sort of sign-board, with the rudely written inscription24, "Camp Starvation," and we had heard from Mr. Bailey the story of the tragic25 misfortunes at this very place of the well-known Hitchcock family of Arizona. The road was lined with dry bones, and skulls26 of oxen, white and bleached27 in the sun, lying on the bare rocks. Indeed, at every stage of the road we had seen evidences of hard travel, exhausted28 cattle, anxious teamsters, hunger and thirst, despair, starvation, and death.
However, Stoneman's Lake remains29 a joy in the memory, and far and away the most beautiful spot I ever saw in Arizona. But unless the approaches to it are made easier, tourists will never gaze upon it.
In the distance we saw the "divide," over which we must pass in order to reach Camp Verde, which was to be our first stopping place, and we looked joyfully30 towards the next day's march, which we expected would bring us there.
We thought the worst was over and, before retiring to our tents for the night, we walked over to the edge of the high mesa and, in the gathering31 shadows of twilight32, looked down into the depths of that beautiful lake, knowing that probably we should never see it again.
I wonder now, did it really exist or was it an illusion, a dream, or the mirage33 which appears to the desert traveller, to satisfy him and lure34 him on, to quiet his imagination, and to save his senses from utter extinction35?
In the morning the camp was all astir for an early move. We had no time to look back: we were starting for a long day's march, across the "divide," and into Camp Verde.
But we soon found that the road (if road it could be called) was worse than any we had encountered. The ambulance was pitched and jerked from rock to rock and we were thumped36 against the iron framework in a most dangerous manner. So we got out and picked our way over the great sharp boulders37.
The Alsatian soldier carried the baby, who lay securely in the pappoose cradle.
One of the cavalry13 escort suggested my taking his horse, but I did not feel strong enough to think of mounting a horse, so great was my discouragement and so exhausted was my vitality38. Oh! if girls only knew about these things I thought! For just a little knowledge of the care of an infant and its needs, its nourishment and its habits, might have saved both mother and child from such utter collapse39.
Little by little we gave up hope of reaching Verde that day. At four o'clock we crossed the "divide," and clattered41 down a road so near the edge of a precipice42 that I was frightened beyond everything: my senses nearly left me. Down and around, this way and that, near the edge, then back again, swaying, swerving43, pitching, the gravel44 clattering45 over the precipice, the six mules trotting46 their fastest, we reached the bottom and the driver pulled up his team. "Beaver47 Springs!" said he, impressively, loosening up the brakes.
As Jack48 lifted me out of the ambulance, I said: "Why didn't you tell me?" pointing back to the steep road. "Oh," said he, "I thought it was better for you not to know; people get scared about such things, when they know about them before hand."
"But," I remarked, "such a break-neck pace!" Then, to the driver, "Smith, how could you drive down that place at such a rate and frighten me so?"
"Had to, ma'am, or we'd a'gone over the edge."
I had been brought up in a flat country down near the sea, and I did not know the dangers of mountain travelling, nor the difficulties attending the piloting of a six-mule team down a road like that. From this time on, however, Smith rose in my estimation. I seemed also to be realizing that the Southwest was a great country and that there was much to learn about. Life out there was beginning to interest me.
Camp Verde lay sixteen miles farther on; no one knew if the road were good or bad. I declared I could not travel another mile, even if they all went on and left me to the wolves and the darkness of Beaver Springs.
We looked to our provisions and took account of stock. There was not enough for the two families. We had no flour and no bread; there was only a small piece of bacon, six potatoes, some condensed milk, and some chocolate. The Baileys decided49 to go on; for Mrs. Bailey was to meet her sister at Verde and her parents at Whipple. We said good-bye, and their ambulance rolled away. Our tent was pitched and the baby was laid on the bed, asleep from pure exhaustion50.
The dread9 darkness of night descended51 upon us, and the strange odors of the bottom-lands arose, mingling52 with the delicious smoky smell of the camp-fire.
By the light of the blazing mesquite wood, we now divided what provisions we had, into two portions: one for supper, and one for breakfast. A very light meal we had that evening, and I arose from the mess-table unsatisfied and hungry.
Jack and I sat down by the camp-fire, musing53 over the hard times we were having, when suddenly I heard a terrified cry from my little son. We rushed to the tent, lighted a candle, and oh! horror upon horrors! his head and face were covered with large black ants; he was wailing54 helplessly, and beating the air with his tiny arms.
"My God!" cried Jack, "we're camped over an ant-hill!"
I seized the child, and brushing off the ants as I fled, brought him out to the fire, where by its light I succeeded in getting rid of them all. But the horror of it! Can any mother brought up in God's country with kind nurses and loved ones to minister to her child, for a moment imagine how I felt when I saw those hideous55, three-bodied, long-legged black ants crawling over my baby's face? After a lapse40 of years, I cannot recall that moment without a shudder56.
The soldiers at last found a place which seemed to be free from ant-hills, and our tent was again pitched, but only to find that the venomous things swarmed57 over us as soon as we lay down to rest.
And so, after the fashion of the Missouri emigrant58, we climbed into the ambulance and lay down upon our blankets in the bottom of it, and tried to believe we were comfortable.
My long, hard journey of the preceding autumn, covering a period of two months; my trying experiences during the winter at Camp Apache; the sudden break-up and the packing; the lack of assistance from a nurse; the terrors of the journey; the sympathy for my child, who suffered from many ailments59 and principally from lack of nourishment, added to the profound fatigue I felt, had reduced my strength to a minimum. I wonder that I lived, but something sustained me, and when we reached Camp Verde the next day, and drew up before Lieutenant60 O'Connell's quarters, and saw Mrs. O'Connell's kind face beaming to welcome us, I felt that here was relief at last.
The tall Alsatian handed the pappoose cradle to Mrs. O'Connell.
"Gracious goodness! what is this?" cried the bewildered woman; "surely it cannot be your baby! You haven't turned entirely Indian, have you, amongst those wild Apaches?"
I felt sorry I had not taken him out of the basket before we arrived. I did not realize the impression it would make at Camp Verde. After all, they did not know anything about our life at Apache, or our rough travels to get back from there. Here were lace-curtained windows, well-dressed women, smart uniforms, and, in fact, civilization, compared with what we had left.
The women of the post gathered around the broad piazza61, to see the wonder. But when they saw the poor little wan62 face, the blue eyes which looked sadly out at them from this rude cradle, the linen63 bandages covering the back of the head, they did not laugh any more, but took him and ministered to him, as only kind women can minister to a sick baby.
There was not much rest, however, for we had to sort and rearrange our things, and dress ourselves properly. (Oh! the luxury of a room and a tub, after that journey!) Jack put on his best uniform, and there was no end of visiting, in spite of the heat, which was considerable even at that early date in May. The day there would have been pleasant enough but for my wretched condition.
The next morning we set out for Fort Whipple, making a long day's march, and arriving late in the evening. The wife of the Quartermaster, a total stranger to me, received us, and before we had time to exchange the usual social platitudes64, she gave one look at the baby, and put an end to any such attempts. "You have a sick child; give him to me;" then I told her some things, and she said: "I wonder he is alive." Then she took him under her charge and declared we should not leave her house until he was well again. She understood all about nursing, and day by day, under her good care, and Doctor Henry Lippincott's skilful65 treatment, I saw my baby brought back to life again. Can I ever forget Mrs. Aldrich's blessed kindness?
Up to then, I had taken no interest in Camp MacDowell, where was stationed the company into which my husband was promoted. I knew it was somewhere in the southern part of the Territory, and isolated66. The present was enough. I was meeting my old Fort Russell friends, and under Doctor Lippincott's good care I was getting back a measure of strength. Camp MacDowell was not yet a reality to me.
We met again Colonel Wilkins and Mrs. Wilkins and Carrie, and Mrs. Wilkins thanked me for bringing her daughter alive out of those wilds. Poor girl; 'twas but a few months when we heard of her death, at the birth of her second child. I have always thought her death was caused by the long hard journey from Apache to Whipple, for Nature never intended women to go through what we went through, on that memorable67 journey by Stoneman's Lake.
There I met again Captain Porter, and I asked him if he had progressed any in his courtship, and he, being very much embarrassed, said he did not know, but if patient waiting was of any avail, he believed he might win his bride.
After we had been at Whipple a few days, Jack came in and remarked casually68 to Lieutenant Aldrich, "Well, I heard Bernard has asked to be relieved from Ehrenberg.
"What!" I said, "the lonely man down there on the river—the prisoner of Chillon—the silent one? Well, they are going to relieve him, of course?"
"Why, yes," said Jack, falteringly69, "if they can get anyone to take his place."
"Can't they order some one?" I inquired.
"Of course they can," he replied, and then, turning towards the window, he ventured: "The fact is Martha, I've been offered it, and am thinking it over." (The real truth was, that he had applied70 for it, thinking it possessed71 great advantages over Camp MacDowell. )
"What! do I hear aright? Have your senses left you? Are you crazy? Are you going to take me to that awful place? Why, Jack, I should die there!"
"Now, Martha, be reasonable; listen to me, and if you really decide against it, I'll throw up the detail. But don't you see, we shall be right on the river, the boat comes up every fortnight or so, you can jump aboard and go up to San Francisco." (Oh, how alluring72 that sounded to my ears!) "Why, it's no trouble to get out of Arizona from Ehrenberg. Then, too, I shall be independent, and can do just as I like, and when I like," et caetera, et caetera. "Oh, you'll be making the greatest mistake, if you decide against it. As for MacDowell, it's a hell of a place, down there in the South; and you never will be able to go back East with the baby, if we once get settled down there. Why, it's a good fifteen days from the river."
And so he piled up the arguments in favor of Ehrenberg, saying finally, "You need not stop a day there. If the boat happens to be up, you can jump right aboard and start at once down river."
All the discomforts73 of the voyage on the "Newbern," and the memory of those long days spent on the river steamer in August had paled before my recent experiences. I flew, in imagination, to the deck of the "Gila," and to good Captain Mellon, who would take me and my child out of that wretched Territory.
"Yes, yes, let us go then," I cried; for here came in my inexperience. I thought I was choosing the lesser74 evil, and I knew that Jack believed it to be so, and also that he had set his heart upon Ehrenberg, for reasons known only to the understanding of a military man.
So it was decided to take the Ehrenberg detail.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
ascend
|
|
| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
mules
|
|
| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
respite
|
|
| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
jolting
|
|
| adj.令人震惊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
bruises
|
|
| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
snugly
|
|
| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
nourishment
|
|
| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
wagons
|
|
| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
expedient
|
|
| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
cavalry
|
|
| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
cavalryman
|
|
| 骑兵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
refreshing
|
|
| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
luncheon
|
|
| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
grassy
|
|
| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
trenches
|
|
| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
fatigue
|
|
| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
cavalcade
|
|
| n.车队等的行列 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
rein
|
|
| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
arid
|
|
| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
inscription
|
|
| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
skulls
|
|
| 颅骨( skull的名词复数 )； 脑袋； 脑子； 脑瓜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
bleached
|
|
| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
joyfully
|
|
| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
gathering
|
|
| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
mirage
|
|
| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
lure
|
|
| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
extinction
|
|
| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
thumped
|
|
| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
boulders
|
|
| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
vitality
|
|
| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
collapse
|
|
| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
lapse
|
|
| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
clattered
|
|
| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
precipice
|
|
| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
swerving
|
|
| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
gravel
|
|
| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
clattering
|
|
| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
trotting
|
|
| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
beaver
|
|
| n.海狸，河狸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
jack
|
|
| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
exhaustion
|
|
| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
mingling
|
|
| adj.混合的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
musing
|
|
| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
wailing
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
hideous
|
|
| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
swarmed
|
|
| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
emigrant
|
|
| adj.移居的，移民的；n.移居外国的人，移民 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
ailments
|
|
| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
lieutenant
|
|
| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
piazza
|
|
| n.广场；走廊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
wan
|
|
| (wide area network)广域网 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
platitudes
|
|
| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
skilful
|
|
| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
casually
|
|
| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
falteringly
|
|
| 口吃地，支吾地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
alluring
|
|
| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
discomforts
|
|
| n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 )；不愉快，苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
lesser
|
|
| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |