第 7 节
作者:双曲线      更新:2021-04-30 17:21      字数:9322
  to state; was a white horse; and belonged to Wes。
  Jenny also was white and belonged to Wes。                Her chief characteristic
  was   her   devotion   to   Dinkey。    She   worshiped   Dinkey;   and   seconded   her
  enthusiastically。      Without   near   the   originality   of   Dinkey;   she   was   yet   a
  very good and sure pack…horse。            The deceiving part about Jenny was her
  eye。    It   was   baleful   with   the   spirit   of   evil;snaky   and   black;   and   with
  green sideways gleams in it。          Catching the flash of it; you would forever
  after avoid getting in range of her heels or teeth。           But it was all a delusion。
  Jenny's disposition was mild and harmless。
  The third member of the pack…outfit we bought at an auction sale in
  rather a peculiar manner。        About sixty head of Arizona horses of the C。 A。
  Bar    outfit  were    being   sold。   Toward      the  close   of   the  afternoon    they
  brought   out   a   well…built   stocky   buckskin   of   first…rate   appearance   except
  that   his   left  flank   was   ornamented      with   five   different   brands。     The
  auctioneer called attention to him。
  〃Here is a first…rate all…round horse;〃 said he。          〃He is sound; will ride;
  work;   or   pack;   perfectly   broken;   mild;   and   gentle。    He   would   make   a
  first…rate family horse; for he has a kind disposition。〃
  The official rider put a saddle on him to give him a demonstrating turn
  around the track。        Then that mild; gentle; perfectly broken family horse
  of   kind   disposition    gave   about   as   pretty   an  exhibition    of  barbed…wire
  bucking as you would want to see。            Even the auctioneer had to join in the
  wild shriek of delight that went up from the crowd。                 He could not get a
  bid; and I bought the animal in later very cheaply。
  As I had suspected; the trouble turned out to be merely exuberance or
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  nervousness before a crowd。            He bucked once with me under the saddle;
  and   twice   subsequently   under   a   pack;that   was   all。     Buckshot   was   the
  best pack…horse we had。           Bar an occasional saunter into the brush when
  he got tired of the trail; we had no fault to find with him。                 He carried a
  heavy   pack;   was   as   sure…footed   as   Bullet;   as   sagacious   on   the   trail   as
  Dinkey; and he always attended strictly to his own business。                     Moreover
  he knew that business thoroughly; knew what should be expected of him;
  accomplished        it  well  and    quietly。   His    disposition     was   dignified    but
  lovable。     As long as you treated him well; he was as gentle as you could
  ask。    But once let Buckshot get it into his head that he was being imposed
  on; or once let him see that your temper had betrayed you into striking him
  when he   thought   he   did   not   deserve   it;   and   he   cut   loose   vigorously  and
  emphatically with his heels。          He declined to be abused。
  There remains but Lily。         I don't know just how to do justice to Lily
  the 〃Lily maid。〃        We named her that because she looked it。                 Her color
  was a pure white; her eye was virginal and silly; her long bang strayed in
  wanton carelessness across her face and eyes; her expression was foolish;
  and her legs were long and rangy。             She had the general appearance of an
  overgrown   school…girl   too   big   for   short   dresses   and   too   young   for   long
  gowns;a school…girl   named   Flossie;  or   Mamie;  or   Lily。          So   we   named
  her that。
  At   first   hers   was   the   attitude   of   the   timid   and   shrinking   tenderfoot。
  She     stood   in   awe    of  her   companions;       she   appreciated     her   lack   of
  experience。      Humbly   she   took   the   rear;   slavishly   she   copied   the   other
  horses;    closely   she   clung    to  camp。    Then     in  a  few   weeks;     like  most
  tenderfeet;   she   came   to   think   that   her   short   experience   had   taught   her
  everything there was to know。            She put on airs。       She became too cocky
  and conceited for words。
  Everything      she   did  was    exaggerated;     overdone。     She     assumed     her
  pack with an air that plainly said; 〃Just see what a good horse am I!〃                  She
  started out three seconds before the others in a manner intended to shame
  their   procrastinating   ways。      Invariably   she   was   the   last   to   rest;   and   the
  first to start on again。       She climbed over…vigorously; with the manner of
  conscious rectitude。        〃Acts like she was trying to get her wages raised;〃
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  said    Wes。    In   this  manner     she   wore    herself   down。     If  permitted     she
  would have climbed until winded; and then would probably have fallen off
  somewhere   for   lack   of   strength。       Where   the   other   horses   watched   the
  movements of those ahead; in order that when a halt for rest was called
  they  might   stop   at   an   easy  place   on   the   trail;   Lily  would   climb   on   until
  jammed   against   the   animal   immediately  preceding   her。          Thus   often   she
  found herself forced to cling desperately to extremely bad footing until the
  others were   ready to   proceed。         Altogether she   was a   precious nuisance;
  that acted busily but without thinking。
  Two   virtues   she   did   possess。    She   was   a   glutton   for   work;   and   she
  could fall far and hard without injuring herself。              This was lucky; for she
  was always falling。         Several times we went down to her fully expecting
  to find her dead or so crippled that she would have to be shot。                   The loss
  of a little skin was her only injury。         She got to be quite philosophic about
  it。   On losing her balance   she would tumble   peaceably; and then   would
  lie back with an air of luxury; her eyes closed; while we worked to free her。
  When we had loosened the pack; Wes would twist her tail。                       Thereupon
  she   would   open   one   eye   inquiringly   as   though   to   say;   〃Hullo!      Done
  already?〃      Then leisurely she would arise and shake herself。
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  IV
  ON HOW TO GO ABOUT IT
  One truth you must learn to accept; believe as a tenet of your faith; and
  act upon always。        It is that your entire welfare depends on the condition
  of your horses。       They must; as a consequence; receive always your first
  consideration。      As long as they have rest and food; you are sure of getting
  along; as soon as they fail; you are reduced to difficulties。             So absolute is
  this truth that it has passed into an idiom。         When a Westerner wants to tell
  you that he lacks a thing; he informs you he is 〃afoot〃 for it。              〃Give me a
  fill for my pipe;〃 he begs; 〃I'm plumb afoot for tobacco。〃
  Consequently  you think last of your own comfort。                 In casting   about
  for a place to spend the night; you look out for good feed。                That assured;
  all else   is of slight importance;   you make   the best of whatever   camping
  facilities   may   happen   to   be   attached。    If   necessary   you   will   sleep   on
  granite   or   in   a   marsh;   walk   a   mile   for   firewood   or   water;   if   only   your
  animals are well provided for。         And on the trail you often will work twice
  as hard as they merely to save them a little。             In whatever I may tell you
  regarding practical expedients; keep this always in mind。
  As to the little details of your daily routine in the mountains; many are
  worth     setting  down;    however     trivial  they   may   seem。     They   mark     the
  difference between the greenhorn and the old…timer; but; more important;
  they    mark    also  the   difference    between     the  right  and    the  wrong;    the
  efficient and the inefficient ways of doing things。
  In   the   morning   the   cook   for   the   day   is   the   first   man   afoot;   usually
  about half past four。      He blows on his fingers; casts malevolent glances at
  the   sleepers;   finally   builds   his   fire   and   starts   his   meal。 Then   he   takes
  fiendish   delight   in   kicking   out   the   others。  They   do   not   run   with   glad
  shouts to plunge into the nearest pool; as most