第 43 节
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双曲线 更新:2021-04-30 17:21 字数:4614
twenty times on the alkali; and the sun is melting hot; and the dust dry and
pervasive; and there is no water; and for all your effort the relative
distances seem to remain the same for days。 You have carried a pack
until your every muscle is strung white…hot; the woods are breathless; the
black flies swarm persistently and bite until your face is covered with
blood。 You have struggled through clogging snow until each time you
raise your snowshoe you feel as though some one had stabbed a little
sharp knife into your groin; it has come to be night; the mercury is away
below zero; and with aching fingers you are to prepare a camp which is
only an anticipation of many more such camps in the ensuing days。 For a
week it has rained; so that you; pushing through the dripping brush; are
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soaked and sodden and comfortless; and the bushes have become horrible
to your shrinking goose…flesh。 Or you are just plain tired out; not from a
single day's fatigue; but from the gradual exhaustion of a long hike。
Then in your secret soul you utter these sentiments:
〃You are a fool。 This is not fun。 There is no real reason why you
should do this。 If you ever get out of here; you will stick right home
where common sense flourishes; my son!〃
Then after a time you do get out; and are thankful。 But in three
months you will have proved in your own experience the following
axiomI should call it the widest truth the wilderness has to teach:
〃In memory the pleasures of a camping trip strengthen with time; and
the disagreeables weaken。〃
I don't care how hard an experience you have had; nor how little of the
pleasant has been mingled with it; in three months your general impression
of that trip will be good。 You will look back on the hard times with a
certain fondness of recollection。
I remember one trip I took in the early spring following a long drive
on the Pine River。 It rained steadily for six days。 We were soaked to
the skin all the time; ate standing up in the driving downpour; and slept
wet。 So cold was it that each morning our blankets were so full of frost
that they crackled stiffly when we turned out。 Dispassionately I can
appraise that as about the worst I ever got into。 Yet as an impression the
Pine River trip seems to me a most enjoyable one。
So after you have been home for a little while the call begins to make
itself heard。 At first it is very gentle。 But little by little a restlessness
seizes hold of you。 You do not know exactly what is the matter: you are
aware merely that your customary life has lost savor; that you are doing
things more or less perfunctorily; and that you are a little more irritable
than your naturally evil disposition。
And gradually it is borne in on you exactly what is the matter。 Then
say you to yourself:
〃My son; you know better。 You are no tenderfoot。 You have had
too long an experience to admit of any glamour of indefiniteness about
this thing。 No use bluffing。 You know exactly how hard you will have
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to work; and how much tribulation you are going to get into; and how
hungry and wet and cold and tired and generally frazzled out you are
going to be。 You've been there enough times so it's pretty clearly
impressed on you。 You go into this thing with your eyes open。 You
know what you're in for。 You're pretty well off right here; and you'd be a
fool to go。〃
〃That's right;〃 says yourself to you。 〃You're dead right about it; old
man。 Do you know where we can get another pack…mule?〃
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