the mountains(山脉)-第15部分
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
thousand foot level； grows an affair called the snow…plant。 It is； when
full grown； about two feet in height； and shaped like a loosely constructed
pine…cone set up on end。 Its entire substance is like wax； and the whole
54
… Page 55…
THE MOUNTAINS
concernstalk； broad curling leaves； and allis a brilliant scarlet。
Sometime you will ride through the twilight of deep pine woods growing
on the slope of the mountain； a twilight intensified； rendered more sacred
to your mood by the external brilliancy of a glimpse of vivid blue sky
above dazzling snow mountains far away。 Then； in this monotone of
dark green frond and dull brown trunk and deep olive shadow； where； like
the ordered library of one with quiet tastes； nothing breaks the harmony of
unobtrusive tone； suddenly flames the vivid red of a snow…plant。 You
will never forget it。
Flowers in general seem to possess this concentrated brilliancy both
of color and of perfume。 You will ride into and out of strata of perfume
as sharply defined as are the quartz strata on the ridges。 They lie
sluggish and cloying in the hollows； too heavy to rise on the wings of the
air。
As for color； you will see all sorts of queer things。 The ordered
flower…science of your childhood has gone mad。 You recognize some of
your old friends； but strangely distorted and changed；even the dear old
〃butter 'n eggs〃 has turned pink！ Patches of purple； of red； of blue； of
yellow； of orange are laid in the hollows or on the slopes like brilliant
blankets out to dry in the sun。 The fine grasses are spangled with them；
so that in the cup of the great fierce countries the meadows seem like
beautiful green ornaments enameled with jewels。 The Mariposa Lily； on
the other hand； is a poppy…shaped flower varying from white to purple；
and with each petal decorated by an 〃eye〃 exactly like those on the great
Cecropia or Polyphemus moths； so that their effect is that of a flock of
gorgeous butterflies come to rest。 They hover over the meadows poised。
A movement would startle them to flight； only the proper movement
somehow never comes。
The great redwoods； too； add to the colored… edition impression of the
whole country。 A redwood； as perhaps you know； is a tremendous big
tree sometimes as big as twenty feet in diameter。 It is exquisitely
proportioned like a fluted column of noble height。 Its bark is slightly
furrowed longitudinally； and of a peculiar elastic appearance that lends it
an almost perfect illusion of breathing animal life。 The color is a rich
55
… Page 56…
THE MOUNTAINS
umber red。 Sometimes in the early morning or the late afternoon； when
all the rest of the forest is cast in shadow； these massive trunks will glow
as though incandescent。 The Trail； wonderful always； here seems to pass
through the outer portals of the great flaming regions where dwell the
risings and fallings of days。
As you follow the Trail up； you will enter also the permanent
dwelling…places of the seasons。 With us each visits for the space of a few
months； then steals away to give place to the next。 Whither they go you
have not known until you have traveled the high mountains。 Summer
lives in the valley； that you know。 Then a little higher you are in the
spring… time； even in August。 Melting patches of snow linger under the
heavy firs； the earth is soggy with half…absorbed snow…water； trickling
with exotic little rills that do not belong； grasses of the year before float
like drowned hair in pellucid pools with an air of permanence； except for
the one fact； fresh green things are sprouting bravely； through bare
branches trickles a shower of bursting buds； larger at the top； as though the
Sower had in passing scattered them from above。 Birds of extraordinary
cheerfulness sing merrily to new and doubtful flowers。 The air tastes
cold； but the sun is warm。 The great spring humming and promise is in
the air。 And a few thousand feet higher you wallow over the surface of
drifts while a winter wind searches your bones。 I used to think that Santa
Claus dwelt at the North Pole。 Now I am convinced that he has a
workshop somewhere among the great mountains where dwell the Seasons；
and that his reindeer paw for grazing in the alpine meadows below the
highest peaks。
Here the birds migrate up and down instead of south and north。 It
must be a great saving of trouble to them； and undoubtedly those who
have discovered it maintain toward the unenlightened the same delighted
and fraternal secrecy with which you and I guard the knowledge of a good
trout…stream。 When you can migrate adequately in a single day； why
spend a month at it？
Also do I remember certain spruce woods with openings where the sun
shone through。 The shadows were very black； the sunlight very white。
As I looked back I could see the pack…horses alternately suffer eclipse and
56
… Page 57…
THE MOUNTAINS
illumination in a strange flickering manner good to behold。 The dust of
the trail eddied and billowed lazily in the sun； each mote flashing as
though with life； then abruptly as it crossed the sharp line of shade it
disappeared。
From these spruce woods； level as a floor； we came out on the rounded
shoulder of a mountain to find ourselves nearly nine thousand feet above
the sea。 Below us was a deep canon to the middle of the earth。 And
spread in a semicircle about the curve of our mountain a most magnificent
panoramic view。 First there were the plains； represented by a brown haze
of heat； then； very remote； the foot…hills； the brush…hills； the pine
mountains； the upper timber； the tremendous granite peaks； and finally the
barrier of the main crest with its glittering snow。 From the plains to that
crest was over seventy miles。 I should not dare say how far we could see
down the length of the range； nor even how distant was the other wall of
the canon over which we rode。 Certainly it was many miles； and to
reach the latter point consumed three days。
It is useless to multiply instances。 The principle is well enough
established by these。 Whatever impression of your trail you carry away
will come from the little common occurrences of every day。 That is true
of all trails； and equally so； it seems to me； of our Trail of Life sketched
at the beginning of this essay。
But the trail of the mountains means more than wonder； it means hard
work。 Unless you stick to the beaten path； where the freighters have lost
so many mules that they have finally decided to fix things up a bit； you are
due for lots of trouble。 Bad places will come to be a nightmare with you
and a topic of conversation with whomever you may meet。 We once
enjoyed the company of a prospector three days while he made up his
mind to tackle a certain bit of trail we had just descended。 Our accounts
did not encourage him。 Every morning he used to squint up at the cliff
which rose some four thousand feet above us。 〃Boys；〃 he said finally as
he started； 〃I may drop in on you later in the morning。〃 I am happy to
say he did not。
The most discouraging to the tenderfoot； but in reality the safest of all
bad trails； is the one that skirts a precipice。 Your horse possesses a
57
… Page 58…
THE MOUNTAINS
laudable desire to spare your inside leg unnecessary abrasion； so he walks
on the extreme outer edge。 If you watch the performance of the animal
ahead； you will observe that every few moments his outer hind hoof slips
off that edge； knocking little stones down into the abyss。 Then you
conclude that sundry slight jars you have been experiencing are from the
same cause。 Your peace of mind deserts you。 You stare straight ahead；
sit VERY light indeed； and perhaps turn the least bit sick。 The horse；
however； does not mind； nor will you； after a little。 There is absolutely
nothing to do but to sit steady and give your animal his head。 In a fairly
extended experience I never got off the edge but once。 Then somebody
shot a gun immediately ahead； my horse tried to turn around； slipped； and
slid backwards until he over
