第 11 节
作者:闪啊闪      更新:2023-08-28 11:47      字数:9322
  he will have a bottle of the best in every  inn; and look upon all his extravagances as so much gained upon the  thieves。  And above all; where instead of simply spending; he makes  a profitable investment for some of his money; when it will be out  of risk of loss。  So every bit of brisk living; and above all when  it is healthful; is just so much gained upon the wholesale filcher;  death。  We shall have the less in our pockets; the more in our  stomach; when he cries stand and deliver。  A swift stream is a  favourite artifice of his; and one that brings him in a comfortable  thing per annum; but when he and I come to settle our accounts; I  shall whistle in his face for these hours upon the upper Oise。
  Towards afternoon we got fairly drunken with the sunshine and the  exhilaration of the pace。  We could no longer contain ourselves and  our content。  The canoes were too small for us; we must be out and  stretch ourselves on shore。  And so in a green meadow we bestowed  our limbs on the grass; and smoked deifying tobacco and proclaimed  the world excellent。  It was the last good hour of the day; and I  dwell upon it with extreme complacency。
  On one side of the valley; high up on the chalky summit of the  hill; a ploughman with his team appeared and disappeared at regular  intervals。  At each revelation he stood still for a few seconds  against the sky:  for all the world (as the CIGARETTE declared)  like a toy Burns who should have just ploughed up the Mountain  Daisy。  He was the only living thing within view; unless we are to  count the river。
  On the other side of the valley a group of red roofs and a belfry  showed among the foliage。  Thence some inspired bell…ringer made  the afternoon musical on a chime of bells。  There was something  very sweet and taking in the air he played; and we thought we had  never heard bells speak so intelligibly; or sing so melodiously; as  these。  It must have been to some such measure that the spinners  and the young maids sang; 'Come away; Death;' in the Shakespearian  Illyria。  There is so often a threatening note; something blatant  and metallic; in the voice of bells; that I believe we have fully  more pain than pleasure from hearing them; but these; as they  sounded abroad; now high; now low; now with a plaintive cadence  that caught the ear like the burthen of a popular song; were always  moderate and tunable; and seemed to fall in with the spirit of  still; rustic places; like the noise of a waterfall or the babble  of a rookery in spring。  I could have asked the bell…ringer for his  blessing; good; sedate old man; who swung the rope so gently to the  time of his meditations。  I could have blessed the priest or the  heritors; or whoever may be concerned with such affairs in France;  who had left these sweet old bells to gladden the afternoon; and  not held meetings; and made collections; and had their names  repeatedly printed in the local paper; to rig up a peal of brand… new; brazen; Birmingham…hearted substitutes; who should bombard  their sides to the provocation of a brand…new bell…ringer; and fill  the echoes of the valley with terror and riot。
  At last the bells ceased; and with their note the sun withdrew。   The piece was at an end; shadow and silence possessed the valley of  the Oise。  We took to the paddle with glad hearts; like people who  have sat out a noble performance and returned to work。  The river  was more dangerous here; it ran swifter; the eddies were more  sudden and violent。  All the way down we had had our fill of  difficulties。  Sometimes it was a weir which could be shot;  sometimes one so shallow and full of stakes that we must withdraw  the boats from the water and carry them round。  But the chief sort  of obstacle was a consequence of the late high winds。  Every two or  three hundred yards a tree had fallen across the river; and usually  involved more than another in its fall。
  Often there was free water at the end; and we could steer round the  leafy promontory and hear the water sucking and bubbling among the  twigs。  Often; again; when the tree reached from bank to bank;  there was room; by lying close; to shoot through underneath; canoe  and all。  Sometimes it was necessary to get out upon the trunk  itself and pull the boats across; and sometimes; when the stream  was too impetuous for this; there was nothing for it but to land  and 'carry over。'  This made a fine series of accidents in the  day's career; and kept us aware of ourselves。
  Shortly after our re…embarkation; while I was leading by a long  way; and still full of a noble; exulting spirit in honour of the  sun; the swift pace; and the church bells; the river made one of  its leonine pounces round a corner; and I was aware of another  fallen tree within a stone…cast。  I had my backboard down in a  trice; and aimed for a place where the trunk seemed high enough  above the water; and the branches not too thick to let me slip  below。  When a man has just vowed eternal brotherhood with the  universe; he is not in a temper to take great determinations  coolly; and this; which might have been a very important  determination for me; had not been taken under a happy star。  The  tree caught me about the chest; and while I was yet struggling to  make less of myself and get through; the river took the matter out  of my hands; and bereaved me of my boat。  The ARETHUSA swung round  broadside on; leaned over; ejected so much of me as still remained  on board; and thus disencumbered; whipped under the tree; righted;  and went merrily away down stream。
  I do not know how long it was before I scrambled on to the tree to  which I was left clinging; but it was longer than I cared about。   My thoughts were of a grave and almost sombre character; but I  still clung to my paddle。  The stream ran away with my heels as  fast as I could pull up my shoulders; and I seemed; by the weight;  to have all the water of the Oise in my trousers…pockets。  You can  never know; till you try it; what a dead pull a river makes against  a man。  Death himself had me by the heels; for this was his last  ambuscado; and he must now join personally in the fray。  And still  I held to my paddle。  At last I dragged myself on to my stomach on  the trunk; and lay there a breathless sop; with a mingled sense of  humour and injustice。  A poor figure I must have presented to Burns  upon the hill…top with his team。  But there was the paddle in my  hand。  On my tomb; if ever I have one; I mean to get these words  inscribed:  'He clung to his paddle。'
  The CIGARETTE had gone past a while before; for; as I might have  observed; if I had been a little less pleased with the universe at  the moment; there was a clear way round the tree…top at the farther  side。  He had offered his services to haul me out; but as I was  then already on my elbows; I had declined; and sent him down stream  after the truant ARETHUSA。  The stream was too rapid for a man to  mount with one canoe; let alone two; upon his hands。  So I crawled  along the trunk to shore; and proceeded down the meadows by the  river…side。  I was so cold that my heart was sore。  I had now an  idea of my own why the reeds so bitterly shivered。  I could have  given any of them a lesson。  The CIGARETTE remarked facetiously  that he thought I was 'taking exercise' as I drew near; until he  made out for certain that I was only twittering with cold。  I had a  rub down with a towel; and donned a dry suit from the india…rubber  bag。  But I was not my own man again for the rest of the voyage。  I  had a queasy sense that I wore my last dry clothes upon my body。   The struggle had tired me; and perhaps; whether I knew it or not; I  was a little dashed in spirit。  The devouring element in the  universe had leaped out against me; in this green valley quickened  by a running stream。  The bells were all very pretty in their way;  but I had heard some of the hollow notes of Pan's music。  Would the  wicked river drag me down by the heels; indeed? and look so  beautiful all the time?  Nature's good…humour was only skin…deep  after all。
  There was still a long way to go by the winding course of the  stream; and darkness had fallen; and a late bell was ringing in  Origny Sainte…Benoite; when we arrived。
  ORIGNY SAINTE…BENOITE
  A BY…DAY
  THE next day was Sunday; and the church bells had little rest;  indeed; I do not think I remember anywhere else so great a choice  of services as were here offered to the devout。  And while the  bells made merry in the sunshine; all the world with his dog was  out shooting among the beets and colza。
  In the morning a hawker and his wife went down the street at a  foot…pace; singing to a very slow; lamentable music 'O FRANCE; MES  AMOURS。'  It brought everybody to the door; and when our landlady  called in the man to buy the words; he had not a copy of them left。   She was not the first nor the second who had been taken with the  song。  There is something very pathetic in the love of the French  people; since the war; for dismal patriotic music…making。  I have  watched a forester from Alsace while some one was singing 'LES  MALHEURS DE LA FRANCE;' at a baptismal party in the neighbourhood  of Fontainebleau。  He arose from the table and took his son aside;  c