章节正文
scintillating eyes.
"It's pretty," said Bess. "How tame! I thought snakes always
ran."
"No. Even the rabbits didn't run here till the dogs chased them."
On and on they wandered to the wild jumble of massed and broken
fragments of cliff at the west end of the valley. The roar of the
disappearing stream dinned in their ears. Into this maze of rocks
they threaded a tortuous way, climbing, descending, halting to
gather wild plums and great lavender lilies, and going on at the
will of fancy. Idle and keen perceptions guided them equally.
"Oh, let us climb there!" cried Bess, pointing upward to a small
space of terrace left green and shady between huge abutments of
broken cliff. And they climbed to the nook and rested and looked
out across the valley to the curling column of blue smoke from
their campfire. But the cool shade and the rich grass and the
fine view were not what they had climbed for. They could not have
told, although whatever had drawn them was well-satisfying.
Light, sure-footed as a mountain goat, Bess pattered down at
Venters's heels; and they went on, calling the dogs, eyes dreamy
and wide, listening to the wind and the bees and the crickets and
the birds.
Part of the time Ring and Whitie led the way, then Venters, then
Bess; and the direction was not an object. They left the
sun-streaked shade of the oaks, brushed the long grass of the
meadows, entered the green and fragrant swaying willows, to stop,
at length, under the huge old cottonwoods where the beavers were
busy.
Here they rested and watched. A dam of brush and logs and mud and
stones backed the stream into a little lake. The round, rough
beaver houses projected from the water. Like the rabbits, the
beavers had become shy. Gradually, however, as Venters and Bess
knelt low, holding the dogs, the beavers emerged to swim with
logs and gnaw at cottonwoods and pat mud walls with their
paddle-like tails, and, glossy and shiny in the sun, to go on
with their strange, persistent industry. They were the builders.
The lake was a mud-hole, and the immediate environment a scarred
and dead region, but it was a wonderful home of wonderful
animals.
"Look at that one--he puddles in the mud," said Bess. "And there!
See him dive! Hear them gnawing! I'd think they'd break their
teeth. How's it they can stay out of the water and under the
water?"
And she laughed.
Then Venters and Bess wandered farther, and, perhaps not all
unconsciously this time, wended their slow steps to the cave of
the cliff-dwellers, where she liked best to go.
The tangled thicket and the long slant of dust and little chips
of weathered rock and the steep bench of stone and the worn steps
all were arduous work for Bess in the climbing. But she gained
the shelf, gasping, hot of cheek, glad of eye, with her hand in
Venters's. Here they rested. The beautiful valley glittered below
with its millions of wind-turned leaves bright-faced in the sun,
and the mightybridge towered heavenward, crowned with blue sky.
Bess, however, never rested for long. Soon she was exploring, and
Venters followed; she dragged forth from corners and shelves a
multitude of crudely fashioned and painted pieces of pottery, and
he carried them. They peeped down into the dark holes of the
kivas, and Bess gleefully dropped a stone and waited for the
long-coming hollow sound to rise. They peeped into the little
globular houses, like mud-wasp nests, and wondered if these had
been store-places for grain, or baby cribs, or what; and they
crawled into the larger houses and laughed when they bumped their
heads on the low roofs, and they dug in the dust of the floors.
And they brought from dust and darkness armloads of treasure
which they carried to the light. Flints and stones and strange
curved sticks and pottery they found; and twisted grass rope that
crumbled in their hands, and bits of whitish stone which crushed
to powder at a touch and seemed to vanish in the air.
"That white stuff was bone," said Venters, slowly. "Bones of a
cliff-dweller."
"No!" exclaimed Bess.
"Here's another piece. Look!...Whew! dry, powdery smoke! That's
bone."
Then it was that Venters's primitive, childlike mood, like a
savage's, seeing, yet unthinking, gave way to the encroachment of
civilized thought. The world had not been made for a single day's
play or fancy or idle watching. The world was old. Nowhere could
be gotten a better idea of its age than in this gigantic silent
tomb. The gray ashes in Venters's hand had once been bone of a
human being like himself. The pale gloom of the cave had shadowed
people long ago. He saw that Bess had received the same
shock--could not in moments such as this escape her feeling
living, thinking destiny.
"Bern, people have lived here," she said, with wide, thoughtful
eyes.
"Yes," he replied.
"How long ago?"
"A thousand years and more."
"What were they?"
"Cliff-dwellers. Men who had enemies and made their homes high
out of reach."
"They had to fight?"
"Yes."
"They fought for--what?"
"Tor life. For their homes, food, children, parents--for their
women!"
"Has the world changed any in a thousand years?"
"I don't know--perhaps a little."
"Have men?"
"I hope so--I think so."
"Things crowd into my mind," she went on, and the wistful light
in her eyes told Venters the truth of her thoughts. "I've ridden
the border of Utah. I've seen people--know how they live--but
they must be few of all who are living. I had my books and I
studied them. But all that doesn't help me any more. I want to go
out into the big world and see it. Yet I want to stay here more.
What's to become of us? Are we cliff-dwellers? We're alone here.
I'm happy when I don't think. These--these bones that fly into
dust--they make me sick and a little afraid. Did the people who
lived here once have the same feelings as we have? What was the
good of their living at all? They're gone! What's the meaning of
it all--of us?"
"Bess, you ask more than I can tell. It's beyond me. Only there
was laughter here once--and now there's silence. There was
life--and now there's death. Men cut these little steps, made
these arrow-heads and mealing-stones, plaited the ropes we found,
and left their bones to crumble in our fingers. As far as time is
concerned it might all have been yesterday. We're here to-day.
Maybe we're higher in the scale of human beings--in intelligence.
But who knows? We can't be any higher in the things for which
life is lived at all."
"What are they?"
"Why--I suppose relationship, friendship--love."
"Love!"
"Yes. Love of man for woman--love of woman for man. That's the
nature, the meaning, the best of life itself."
She said no more. Wistfulness of glance deepened into
sadness.
"Come, let us go," said Venters.
Action brightened her. Beside him, holding his hand she slipped
down the shelf, ran down the long, steep slant of sliding stones,
out of the cloud of dust, and likewise out of the pale gloom.
"We beat the slide," she cried.
The miniatureavalanchecracked and roared, and rattled itself
into an inert mass at the base of the incline. Yellow dust like
the gloom of the cave, but not so changeless, drifted away on the
wind; the roar clapped in echo from the cliff, returned, went
back, and came again to die in the hollowness. Down on the sunny
terrace there was a different atmosphere. Ring and Whitie leaped
around Bess. Once more she was smiling, gay, and thoughtless,
with the dream-mood in the shadow of her eyes.
"Bess, I haven't seen that since last summer. Look!" said
Venters, pointing to the scalloped edge of rolling purple clouds
that peeped over the western wall. "We're in for a storm."
"Oh, I hope not. I'm afraid of storms."
"Are you? Why?"
"Have you ever been down in one of these walled-up pockets in a
bad storm?"
"No, now I think of it, I haven't."
"Well, it's terrible. Every summer I get scared to death and hide
somewhere in the dark. Storms up on the sage are bad, but nothing
to what they are down here in the canyons. And in this little
valley--why, echoes can rap back and forth so quick they'll split
our ears."
"We're perfectly safe here, Bess."
"I know. But that hasn't anything to do with it. The truth is I'm
afraid of lightning and thunder, and thunder-claps hurt my head.
If we have a bad storm, will you stay close to me?"
"Yes."
When they got back to camp the afternoon was closing, and it was
exceedingly sultry. Not a breath of air stirred the aspen leaves,
and when these did not quiver the air was indeed still. The
dark-purple clouds moved almost imperceptibly out of the west.
"What have we for supper?" asked Bess.
"Bern, can't you think of another new way to cook rabbit?" went
on Bess, with earnestness.
"What do you think I am--a magician?" retorted Venters.
"I wouldn't dare tell you. But, Bern, do you want me to turn into
a rabbit?"
There was a dark-blue, merry flashing of eyes and a parting of
lips; then she laughed. In that moment she was naive and
wholesome.
"Rabbit seems to agree with you," replied Venters. "You are well
and strong--and growing very pretty."
Anything in the nature of compliment he had never before said to
her, and just now he responded to a sudden curiosity to see its
effect. Bess stared as if she had not heard aright, slowly
blushed, and completely lost her poise in happy confusion.
"I'd better go right away," he continued, "and fetch supplies
from Cottonwoods."
A startlingly swift change in the nature of her agitation made
him reproach himself for his abruptness.
"No, no, don't go!" she said. "I didn't mean--that about the
rabbit. I--I was only trying to be--funny. Don't leave me all
alone!"
"Bess, I must go sometime."
"Wait then. Wait till after the storms."
The purple cloud-bank darkened the lower edge of the setting sun,
crept up and up, obscuring its fiery red heart, and finally
passed over the last ruddy crescent of its upper rim.
The intense dead silence awakened to a long, low, rumbling roll
of thunder.
"Oh!" cried Bess, nervously.
"We've had big black clouds before this without rain," said
Venters. "But there's no doubt about that thunder. The storms are
coming. I'm glad. Every rider on the sage will hear that thunder
with glad ears."
Venters and Bess finished their simple meal and the few tasks
around the camp, then faced the open terrace, the valley, and the
west, to watch and await the approaching storm.
It required keen vision to see any movementwhatever in the
"It's pretty," said Bess. "How tame! I thought snakes always
ran."
"No. Even the rabbits didn't run here till the dogs chased them."
On and on they wandered to the wild jumble of massed and broken
fragments of cliff at the west end of the valley. The roar of the
disappearing stream dinned in their ears. Into this maze of rocks
they threaded a tortuous way, climbing, descending, halting to
gather wild plums and great lavender lilies, and going on at the
will of fancy. Idle and keen perceptions guided them equally.
"Oh, let us climb there!" cried Bess, pointing upward to a small
space of terrace left green and shady between huge abutments of
broken cliff. And they climbed to the nook and rested and looked
out across the valley to the curling column of blue smoke from
their campfire. But the cool shade and the rich grass and the
fine view were not what they had climbed for. They could not have
told, although whatever had drawn them was well-satisfying.
Light, sure-footed as a mountain goat, Bess pattered down at
Venters's heels; and they went on, calling the dogs, eyes dreamy
and wide, listening to the wind and the bees and the crickets and
the birds.
Part of the time Ring and Whitie led the way, then Venters, then
Bess; and the direction was not an object. They left the
sun-streaked shade of the oaks, brushed the long grass of the
meadows, entered the green and fragrant swaying willows, to stop,
at length, under the huge old cottonwoods where the beavers were
busy.
Here they rested and watched. A dam of brush and logs and mud and
stones backed the stream into a little lake. The round, rough
beaver houses projected from the water. Like the rabbits, the
beavers had become shy. Gradually, however, as Venters and Bess
knelt low, holding the dogs, the beavers emerged to swim with
logs and gnaw at cottonwoods and pat mud walls with their
paddle-like tails, and, glossy and shiny in the sun, to go on
with their strange, persistent industry. They were the builders.
The lake was a mud-hole, and the immediate environment a scarred
and dead region, but it was a wonderful home of wonderful
animals.
"Look at that one--he puddles in the mud," said Bess. "And there!
See him dive! Hear them gnawing! I'd think they'd break their
teeth. How's it they can stay out of the water and under the
water?"
And she laughed.
Then Venters and Bess wandered farther, and, perhaps not all
unconsciously this time, wended their slow steps to the cave of
the cliff-dwellers, where she liked best to go.
The tangled thicket and the long slant of dust and little chips
of weathered rock and the steep bench of stone and the worn steps
all were arduous work for Bess in the climbing. But she gained
the shelf, gasping, hot of cheek, glad of eye, with her hand in
Venters's. Here they rested. The beautiful valley glittered below
with its millions of wind-turned leaves bright-faced in the sun,
and the mightybridge towered heavenward, crowned with blue sky.
Bess, however, never rested for long. Soon she was exploring, and
Venters followed; she dragged forth from corners and shelves a
multitude of crudely fashioned and painted pieces of pottery, and
he carried them. They peeped down into the dark holes of the
kivas, and Bess gleefully dropped a stone and waited for the
long-coming hollow sound to rise. They peeped into the little
globular houses, like mud-wasp nests, and wondered if these had
been store-places for grain, or baby cribs, or what; and they
crawled into the larger houses and laughed when they bumped their
heads on the low roofs, and they dug in the dust of the floors.
And they brought from dust and darkness armloads of treasure
which they carried to the light. Flints and stones and strange
curved sticks and pottery they found; and twisted grass rope that
crumbled in their hands, and bits of whitish stone which crushed
to powder at a touch and seemed to vanish in the air.
"That white stuff was bone," said Venters, slowly. "Bones of a
cliff-dweller."
"No!" exclaimed Bess.
"Here's another piece. Look!...Whew! dry, powdery smoke! That's
bone."
Then it was that Venters's primitive, childlike mood, like a
savage's, seeing, yet unthinking, gave way to the encroachment of
civilized thought. The world had not been made for a single day's
play or fancy or idle watching. The world was old. Nowhere could
be gotten a better idea of its age than in this gigantic silent
tomb. The gray ashes in Venters's hand had once been bone of a
human being like himself. The pale gloom of the cave had shadowed
people long ago. He saw that Bess had received the same
shock--could not in moments such as this escape her feeling
living, thinking destiny.
"Bern, people have lived here," she said, with wide, thoughtful
eyes.
"Yes," he replied.
"How long ago?"
"A thousand years and more."
"What were they?"
"Cliff-dwellers. Men who had enemies and made their homes high
out of reach."
"They had to fight?"
"Yes."
"They fought for--what?"
"Tor life. For their homes, food, children, parents--for their
women!"
"Has the world changed any in a thousand years?"
"I don't know--perhaps a little."
"Have men?"
"I hope so--I think so."
"Things crowd into my mind," she went on, and the wistful light
in her eyes told Venters the truth of her thoughts. "I've ridden
the border of Utah. I've seen people--know how they live--but
they must be few of all who are living. I had my books and I
studied them. But all that doesn't help me any more. I want to go
out into the big world and see it. Yet I want to stay here more.
What's to become of us? Are we cliff-dwellers? We're alone here.
I'm happy when I don't think. These--these bones that fly into
dust--they make me sick and a little afraid. Did the people who
lived here once have the same feelings as we have? What was the
good of their living at all? They're gone! What's the meaning of
it all--of us?"
"Bess, you ask more than I can tell. It's beyond me. Only there
was laughter here once--and now there's silence. There was
life--and now there's death. Men cut these little steps, made
these arrow-heads and mealing-stones, plaited the ropes we found,
and left their bones to crumble in our fingers. As far as time is
concerned it might all have been yesterday. We're here to-day.
Maybe we're higher in the scale of human beings--in intelligence.
But who knows? We can't be any higher in the things for which
life is lived at all."
"What are they?"
"Why--I suppose relationship, friendship--love."
"Love!"
"Yes. Love of man for woman--love of woman for man. That's the
nature, the meaning, the best of life itself."
She said no more. Wistfulness of glance deepened into
sadness.
"Come, let us go," said Venters.
Action brightened her. Beside him, holding his hand she slipped
down the shelf, ran down the long, steep slant of sliding stones,
out of the cloud of dust, and likewise out of the pale gloom.
"We beat the slide," she cried.
The miniatureavalanchecracked and roared, and rattled itself
into an inert mass at the base of the incline. Yellow dust like
the gloom of the cave, but not so changeless, drifted away on the
wind; the roar clapped in echo from the cliff, returned, went
back, and came again to die in the hollowness. Down on the sunny
terrace there was a different atmosphere. Ring and Whitie leaped
around Bess. Once more she was smiling, gay, and thoughtless,
with the dream-mood in the shadow of her eyes.
"Bess, I haven't seen that since last summer. Look!" said
Venters, pointing to the scalloped edge of rolling purple clouds
that peeped over the western wall. "We're in for a storm."
"Oh, I hope not. I'm afraid of storms."
"Are you? Why?"
"Have you ever been down in one of these walled-up pockets in a
bad storm?"
"No, now I think of it, I haven't."
"Well, it's terrible. Every summer I get scared to death and hide
somewhere in the dark. Storms up on the sage are bad, but nothing
to what they are down here in the canyons. And in this little
valley--why, echoes can rap back and forth so quick they'll split
our ears."
"We're perfectly safe here, Bess."
"I know. But that hasn't anything to do with it. The truth is I'm
afraid of lightning and thunder, and thunder-claps hurt my head.
If we have a bad storm, will you stay close to me?"
"Yes."
When they got back to camp the afternoon was closing, and it was
exceedingly sultry. Not a breath of air stirred the aspen leaves,
and when these did not quiver the air was indeed still. The
dark-purple clouds moved almost imperceptibly out of the west.
"What have we for supper?" asked Bess.
"Bern, can't you think of another new way to cook rabbit?" went
on Bess, with earnestness.
"What do you think I am--a magician?" retorted Venters.
"I wouldn't dare tell you. But, Bern, do you want me to turn into
a rabbit?"
There was a dark-blue, merry flashing of eyes and a parting of
lips; then she laughed. In that moment she was naive and
wholesome.
"Rabbit seems to agree with you," replied Venters. "You are well
and strong--and growing very pretty."
Anything in the nature of compliment he had never before said to
her, and just now he responded to a sudden curiosity to see its
effect. Bess stared as if she had not heard aright, slowly
blushed, and completely lost her poise in happy confusion.
"I'd better go right away," he continued, "and fetch supplies
from Cottonwoods."
A startlingly swift change in the nature of her agitation made
him reproach himself for his abruptness.
"No, no, don't go!" she said. "I didn't mean--that about the
rabbit. I--I was only trying to be--funny. Don't leave me all
alone!"
"Bess, I must go sometime."
"Wait then. Wait till after the storms."
The purple cloud-bank darkened the lower edge of the setting sun,
crept up and up, obscuring its fiery red heart, and finally
passed over the last ruddy crescent of its upper rim.
The intense dead silence awakened to a long, low, rumbling roll
of thunder.
"Oh!" cried Bess, nervously.
"We've had big black clouds before this without rain," said
Venters. "But there's no doubt about that thunder. The storms are
coming. I'm glad. Every rider on the sage will hear that thunder
with glad ears."
Venters and Bess finished their simple meal and the few tasks
around the camp, then faced the open terrace, the valley, and the
west, to watch and await the approaching storm.
It required keen vision to see any movementwhatever in the
- valley [´væli]
n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词) - stream [stri:m] n.河 vi.流出；飘扬 (初中英语单词)
- upward [´ʌpwəd] a.&ad.向上(的)；以上 (初中英语单词)
- column [´kɔləm] n.柱；柱状物；纵队 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- vanish [´væniʃ] vi.消失；消散；消灭 (初中英语单词)
- primitive [´primitiv] a.原始的 n.原始人 (初中英语单词)
- laughter [´lɑ:ftə] n.笑，笑声 (初中英语单词)
- yesterday [´jestədi] n.&ad.昨天；前不久 (初中英语单词)
- likewise [´laikwaiz] ad.同样地；也，又 (初中英语单词)
- incline [in´klain] v.(使)倾斜 n.斜坡 (初中英语单词)
- atmosphere [´ætməsfiə] n.大气；空气；气氛 (初中英语单词)
- purple [´pə:pl] n.紫色 a.紫(红)的 (初中英语单词)
- western [´westən] a.西的；西方的 (初中英语单词)
- lightning [´laitniŋ] n.闪电 a.突然的 (初中英语单词)
- thunder [´θʌndə] n.雷 vi.打雷 vt.吼出 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- quiver [´kwivə] v.抖动 n.颤动(声) (初中英语单词)
- curiosity [,kjuəri´ɔsiti] n.好奇；奇事；珍品 (初中英语单词)
- vision [´viʒən] n.视觉；想象力；幻影 (初中英语单词)
- movement [´mu:vmənt] n.活动；运动；动作 (初中英语单词)
- lavender [´lævində] n.熏衣草；淡紫色 (高中英语单词)
- terrace [´terəs] n.梯田 vt.使成梯田 (高中英语单词)
- fragrant [´freigrənt] a.芳香的，芬芳的 (高中英语单词)
- persistent [pə´sistənt] a.坚持的；固执的 (高中英语单词)
- environment [in´vaiərənmənt] n.郊区；周围；条件 (高中英语单词)
- thicket [´θikit] n.灌木丛；密集的东西 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- shelves [ʃelvz] shelf的复数 (高中英语单词)
- seeing [si:iŋ] see的现在分词 n.视觉 (高中英语单词)
- nowhere [´nəuweə] n.无处；不知道 (高中英语单词)
- gigantic [dʒai´gæntik] a.巨大的 (高中英语单词)
- crumble [´krʌmbəl] v.弄碎；粉碎；崩溃 (高中英语单词)
- relationship [ri´leiʃənʃip] n.关系；联系；亲属关系 (高中英语单词)
- miniature [´miniətʃə] n.缩样 a.雏型的 (高中英语单词)
- perfectly [´pə:fiktli] ad.理想地；完美地 (高中英语单词)
- compliment [´kɔmplimənt] n.敬意 vt.赞美；祝贺 (高中英语单词)
- agitation [,ædʒi´teiʃən] n.鼓动；摇动；焦虑 (高中英语单词)
- reproach [ri´prəutʃ] vt.&n.责备；指责；耻辱 (高中英语单词)
- intense [in´tens] a.强烈的；紧张的 (高中英语单词)
- arduous [´ɑ:djuəs] a.费力的；陡峭的 (英语四级单词)
- bridge [bridʒ] n.桥(梁)；鼻梁；桥牌 (英语四级单词)
- gotten [´gɔtn] get的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- wistful [´wistfəl] a.渴望的；不满足的 (英语四级单词)
- parting [´pɑ:tiŋ] a.&n.分离(的) (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- setting [´setiŋ] n.安装；排字；布景 (英语四级单词)
- crescent [´kresənt] n.月牙 a.新月形的 (英语四级单词)
- jumble [´dʒʌmbəl] n.搞乱，混乱 (英语六级单词)
- calling [´kɔ:liŋ] n.点名；职业；欲望 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- glossy [´glɔsi] a.光滑的，有光泽的 (英语六级单词)
- pottery [´pɔtəri] n.陶器；陶器制造厂 (英语六级单词)
- avalanche [´ævəlɑ:nʃ] n.雪崩 (英语六级单词)
- cracked [krækt] a.有裂缝的；碎的；粗哑 (英语六级单词)
- sultry [´sʌltri] a.狂(闷)热的；风骚的 (英语六级单词)
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