the mountains(山脉)-第34部分
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His sense of humor takes the same unexpected slants； not because his
mental processes differ from those of other men； but because he is
unshackled by the subtle and unnoticed nothingnesses of precedent which
deflect our action toward the common uniformity of our neighbors。 It
must be confessed that his sense of humor possesses also a certain
robustness。
The J。 H。 outfit had been engaged for ten days in busting broncos。
This the Chinese cook； Sang； a newcomer in the territory； found vastly
amusing。 He liked to throw the ropes off the prostrate broncos； when all
was ready； to slap them on the flanks； to yell shrill Chinese yells； and to
dance in celestial delight when the terrified animal arose and scattered out
of there。 But one day the range men drove up a little bunch of full…grown
cattle that had been bought from a smaller owner。 It was necessary to
change the brands。 Therefore a little fire was built； the stamp…brand put
in to heat； and two of the men on horseback caught a cow by the horns and
one hind leg； and promptly upset her。 The old brand was obliterated； the
new one burnt in。 This irritated the cow。 Promptly the branding…men；
who were of course afoot； climbed to the top of the corral to be out of the
way。 At this moment； before the horsemen could flip loose their ropes；
Sang appeared。
〃Hol' on！〃 he babbled。 〃I take him off；〃 and he scrambled over the
fence and approached the cow。
Now cattle of any sort rush at the first object they see after getting to
their feet。 But whereas a steer makes a blind run and so can be avoided；
a cow keeps her eyes open。 Sang approached that wild… eyed cow； a
bland smile on his countenance。
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A dead silence fell。 Looking about at my companions' faces I could
not discern even in the depths of their eyes a single faint flicker of human
interest。
Sang loosened the rope from the hind leg； he threw it from the horns；
he slapped the cow with his hat； and uttered the shrill Chinese yell。 So
far all was according to programme。
The cow staggered to her feet； her eyes blazing fire。 She took one
good look； and then started for Sang。
What followed occurred with all the briskness of a tune from a circus
band。 Sang darted for the corral fence。 Now； three sides of the corral
were railed； and so climbable； but the fourth was a solid adobe wall。 Of
course Sang went for the wall。 There； finding his nails would not stick；
he fled down the length of it； his queue streaming； his eyes popping； his
talons curved toward an ideal of safety； gibbering strange monkey talk；
pursued a scant arm's length behind by that infuriated cow。 Did any one
help him？ Not any。 Every man of that crew was hanging weak from
laughter to the horn of his saddle or the top of the fence。 The
preternatural solemnity had broken to little bits。 Men came running from
the bunk…house； only to go into spasms outside； to roll over and over on
the ground； clutching handfuls of herbage in the agony of their delight。
At the end of the corral was a narrow chute。 Into this Sang escaped
as into a burrow。 The cow came too。 Sang； in desperation； seized a
pole； but the cow dashed such a feeble weapon aside。 Sang caught sight
of a little opening； too small for cows； back into the main corral。 He
squeezed through。 The cow crashed through after him； smashing the
boards。 At the crucial moment Sang tripped and fell on his face。 The
cow missed him by so close a margin that for a moment we thought she
had hit。 But she had not； and before she could turn； Sang had topped the
fence and was halfway to the kitchen。 Tom Waters always maintained
that he spread his Chinese sleeves and flew。 Shortly after a tremendous
smoke arose from the kitchen chimney。 Sang had gone back to
cooking。
Now that Mongolian was really in great danger； but no one of the
outfit thought for a moment of any but the humorous aspect of the affair。
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Analogously； in a certain small cow…town I happened to be transient when
the postmaster shot a Mexican。 Nothing was done about it。 The man
went right on being postmaster； but he had to set up the drinks because he
had hit the Mexican in the stomach。 That was considered a poor place to
hit a man。
The entire town of Willcox knocked off work for nearly a day to
while away the tedium of an enforced wait there on my part。 They
wanted me to go fishing。 One man offered a team； the other a saddle…
horse。 All expended much eloquence in directing me accurately； so
that I should be sure to find exactly the spot where I could hang my feet
over a bank beneath which there were 〃a plumb plenty of fish。〃
Somehow or other they raked out miscellaneous tackle。 But they were
a little too eager。 I excused myself and hunted up a map。 Sure
enough the lake was there； but it had been dry since a previous
geological period。 The fish were undoubtedly there too； but they were
fossil fish。 I borrowed a pickaxe and shovel and announced myself
as ready to start。
Outside the principal saloon in one town hung a gong。 When a
stranger was observed to enter the saloon； that gong was sounded。 Then
it behooved him to treat those who came in answer to the summons。
But when it comes to a case of real hospitality or helpfulness； your
cowboy is there every time。 You are welcome to food and shelter
without price； whether he is at home or not。 Only it is etiquette to leave
your name and thanks pinned somewhere about the place。 Otherwise
your intrusion may be considered in the light of a theft； and you may be
pursued accordingly。
Contrary to general opinion； the cowboy is not a dangerous man to
those not looking for trouble。 There are occasional exceptions； of course；
but they belong to the universal genus of bully； and can be found among
any class。 Attend to your own business； be cool and good…natured； and
your skin is safe。 Then when it is really 〃up to you；〃 be a man； you will
never lack for friends。
The Sierras； especially towards the south where the meadows are wide
and numerous； are full of cattle in small bands。 They come up from the
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desert about the first of June； and are driven back again to the arid
countries as soon as the autumn storms begin。 In the very high land they
are few； and to be left to their own devices； but now we entered a new sort
of country。
Below Farewell Gap and the volcanic regions one's surroundings
change entirely。 The meadows become high flat valleys； often miles in
extent； the mountainswhile registering big on the aneroid are so little
elevated above the plateaus that a few thousand feet is all of their apparent
height； the passes are low； the slopes easy； the trails good； the rock
outcrops few； the hills grown with forests to their very tops。 Altogether it
is a country easy to ride through； rich in grazing； cool and green； with its
eight thousand feet of elevation。 Consequently during the hot months
thousands of desert cattle are pastured here； and with them come many of
the desert men。
Our first intimation of these things was in the volcanic region where
swim the golden trout。 From the advantage of a hill we looked far down
to a hair…grass meadow through which twisted tortuously a brook； and by
the side of the brook； belittled by distance； was a miniature man。 We
could see distinctly his every movement； as he approached cautiously the
stream's edge； dropped his short line at the end of a stick over the bank；
and then yanked bodily the fish from beneath。 Behind him stood his
pony。 We could make out in the clear air the coil of his raw… hide 〃rope；〃
the glitter of his silver bit； the metal points on his saddle skirts； the polish
of his six… shooter； the gleam of his fish； all the details of his costume。
Yet he was fully a mile distant。 After a time he picked up his string of
fish； mounted； and jogged loosely away at the cow…pony's little Spanish
trot toward the south。 Over a week later； having caught golden trout and
climbed Mount Whitney； we followed him and so came to the great central
camp at Monache Meadows。
Imagine an island…dotted lake of grass four or five miles long by
