roughing it-第22部分
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the end of this uncomfortable twelve hours we finished the forty…five…
mile part of the desert and got to the stage station where the imported
water was。 The sun was just rising。 It was easy enough to cross a
desert in the night while we were asleep； and it was pleasant to reflect；
in the morning； that we in actual person had encountered an absolute
desert and could always speak knowingly of deserts in presence of the
ignorant thenceforward。 And it was pleasant also to reflect that this
was not an obscure； back country desert； but a very celebrated one； the
metropolis itself； as you may say。 All this was very well and very
comfortable and satisfactorybut now we were to cross a desert in
daylight。 This was finenovelromanticdramatically adventurous
this； indeed； was worth living for； worth traveling for！ We would write
home all about it。
This enthusiasm； this stern thirst for adventure； wilted under the sultry
August sun and did not last above one hour。 One poor little hourand
then we were ashamed that we had 〃gushed〃 so。 The poetry was all in the
anticipationthere is none in the reality。 Imagine a vast； waveless
ocean stricken dead and turned to ashes； imagine this solemn waste tufted
with ash…dusted sage…bushes； imagine the lifeless silence and solitude
that belong to such a place； imagine a coach； creeping like a bug through
the midst of this shoreless level； and sending up tumbled volumes of dust
as if it were a bug that went by steam； imagine this aching monotony of
toiling and plowing kept up hour after hour； and the shore still as far
away as ever； apparently； imagine team； driver； coach and passengers so
deeply coated with ashes that they are all one colorless color； imagine
ash…drifts roosting above moustaches and eyebrows like snow accumulations
on boughs and bushes。 This is the reality of it。
The sun beats down with dead； blistering； relentless malignity； the
perspiration is welling from every pore in man and beast； but scarcely a
sign of it finds its way to the surfaceit is absorbed before it gets
there； there is not the faintest breath of air stirring； there is not a
merciful shred of cloud in all the brilliant firmament； there is not a
living creature visible in any direction whither one searches the blank
level that stretches its monotonous miles on every hand； there is not a
soundnot a sighnot a whispernot a buzz； or a whir of wings； or
distant pipe of birdnot even a sob from the lost souls that doubtless
people that dead air。 And so the occasional sneezing of the resting
mules； and the champing of the bits； grate harshly on the grim stillness；
not dissipating the spell but accenting it and making one feel more
lonesome and forsaken than before。
The mules； under violent swearing； coaxing and whip…cracking； would make
at stated intervals a 〃spurt；〃 and drag the coach a hundred or may be two
hundred yards； stirring up a billowy cloud of dust that rolled back；
enveloping the vehicle to the wheel…tops or higher； and making it seem
afloat in a fog。 Then a rest followed； with the usual sneezing and bit…
champing。 Then another 〃spurt〃 of a hundred yards and another rest at
the end of it。 All day long we kept this up； without water for the mules
and without ever changing the team。 At least we kept it up ten hours；
which； I take it； is a day； and a pretty honest one； in an alkali desert。
It was from four in the morning till two in the afternoon。 And it was so
hot！ and so close！ and our water canteens went dry in the middle of the
day and we got so thirsty！ It was so stupid and tiresome and dull！ and
the tedious hours did lag and drag and limp along with such a cruel
deliberation！ It was so trying to give one's watch a good long
undisturbed spell and then take it out and find that it had been fooling
away the time and not trying to get ahead any！ The alkali dust cut
through our lips； it persecuted our eyes； it ate through the delicate
membranes and made our noses bleed and kept them bleedingand truly and
seriously the romance all faded far away and disappeared； and left the
desert trip nothing but a harsh realitya thirsty； sweltering； longing；
hateful reality！
Two miles and a quarter an hour for ten hoursthat was what we
accomplished。 It was hard to bring the comprehension away down to such a
snail…pace as that； when we had been used to making eight and ten miles
an hour。 When we reached the station on the farther verge of the desert；
we were glad； for the first time； that the dictionary was along； because
we never could have found language to tell how glad we were； in any sort
of dictionary but an unabridged one with pictures in it。 But there could
not have been found in a whole library of dictionaries language
sufficient to tell how tired those mules were after their twenty…three
mile pull。 To try to give the reader an idea of how thirsty they were；
would be to 〃gild refined gold or paint the lily。〃
Somehow； now that it is there； the quotation does not seem to fitbut no
matter； let it stay； anyhow。 I think it is a graceful and attractive
thing； and therefore have tried time and time again to work it in where
it would fit； but could not succeed。 These efforts have kept my mind
distracted and ill at ease； and made my narrative seem broken and
disjointed； in places。 Under these circumstances it seems to me best to
leave it in； as above； since this will afford at least a temporary
respite from the wear and tear of trying to 〃lead up〃 to this really apt
and beautiful quotation。
CHAPTER XIX。
On the morning of the sixteenth day out from St。 Joseph we arrived at the
entrance of Rocky Canyon； two hundred and fifty miles from Salt Lake。
It was along in this wild country somewhere； and far from any habitation
of white men； except the stage stations； that we came across the
wretchedest type of mankind I have ever seen； up to this writing。 I
refer to the Goshoot Indians。 From what we could see and all we could
learn； they are very considerably inferior to even the despised Digger
Indians of California； inferior to all races of savages on our continent；
inferior to even the Terra del Fuegans； inferior to the Hottentots； and
actually inferior in some respects to the Kytches of Africa。 Indeed； I
have been obliged to look the bulky volumes of Wood's 〃Uncivilized Races
of Men〃 clear through in order to find a savage tribe degraded enough to
take rank with the Goshoots。 I find but one people fairly open to that
shameful verdict。 It is the Bosjesmans （Bushmen） of South Africa。 Such
of the Goshoots as we saw； along the road and hanging about the stations；
were small； lean； 〃scrawny〃 creatures； in complexion a dull black like
the ordinary American negro； their faces and hands bearing dirt which
they had been hoarding and accumulating for months； years； and even
generations； according to the age of the proprietor； a silent； sneaking；
treacherous looking race； taking note of everything； covertly； like all
the other 〃Noble Red Men〃 that we （do not） read about； and betraying no
sign in their countenances； indolent； everlastingly patient and tireless；
like all other Indians； prideless beggarsfor if the beggar instinct
were left out of an Indian he would not 〃go；〃 any more than a clock
without a pendulum； hungry； always hungry； and yet never refusing
anything that a hog would eat； though often eating what a hog would
decline； hunters； but having no higher ambition than to kill and eat
jack…ass rabbits； crickets and grasshoppers； and embezzle carrion from
the buzzards and cayotes； savages who； when asked if they have the common
Indian belief in a Great Spirit show a something which almost amounts to
emotion； thinking whiskey is referred to； a thin； scattering race of
almost naked black children； these Goshoots are； who produce nothing at
all； and have no villages； and no gatherings together into strictly
defined tribal communitiesa people whose only shelter is a rag cast on
a bush to keep off a portion of the snow； and yet who inhabit one of the
most rocky； wintry； repulsive wastes that our country or any other can
exhibit。
The Bushmen and our Goshoots are manifestly descended from the self…same
gorilla； or kangaroo； or Norway rat； which…ever animalAdam the
Darwinians trace them to。
One would as soon expect the rabbits to fight as the Goshoots； and yet
they used to live off the offal and refuse of the stations a few months
and then come some dark night when no mischief was expected； and burn
down the buildings and kill the men from ambush as they rushed out。
And once； in the night； they attacked the stage…coach when a District
Judge； of Nevada Territory； was the only passenger； and with their first
volley of arrows （and a bullet or two） they riddled the stage curtains；
wounded a horse or two and mortally wounded the driver。 The latter was
full of pluck； and so was his passenger。 At the driver's call Judge Mott
swung himself out； clambered to the box and seized the reins of the team；
and away they plunged； through the racing mob of skeletons and under a
hurtling storm of missiles。 The stricken driver had sunk down on the
boot as soon as he was wounded； but had held on to the reins and said he
would manage to keep hold of them until relieved。
And after they were taken from his relaxing grasp； he lay with his head
between Judge Mott's feet； and tranquilly gave directions about the road；
he said he believed he could live till the miscreants were outrun and
left behind； and that if he managed that； the main difficulty would be at
an end； and then if the Judge drove so and so （giving directions about
bad places in the road； and general course） he would reach the next
station without trouble。 The Judge distanced the enemy and at last
rattled up to the station and knew that the night's perils were done； but
there was no comrade…in…arms for him to rejoice with； for the soldierly
driver was dead。
Let us forget that we have been saying harsh things about the Overland
drivers； now。 The disgust which the Goshoots gave me； a disciple of
Cooper and a worshipper of the Red Maneven of the scholarly savages in
the 〃Last of the Mohicans〃 who are fittingly associated with b
