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Essays of Travel-Part14_ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON(1850-1894)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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still coloured the upmost boughs of the wood, and made a fire over my

head in the autumnal foliage. A little faint vapour lay among the



slim tree-stems in the bottom of the hollow; and from farther up I

heard from time to time an outburst of gross laughter, as though



clowns were making merry in the bush. There was something about the

atmosphere that brought all sights and sounds home to one with a



singular purity, so that I felt as if my senses had been washed with

water. After I had crossed the little zone of mist, the path began



to remount the hill; and just as I, mounting along with it, had got

back again, from the head downwards, into the thin golden sunshine, I



saw in front of me a donkey tied to a tree. Now, I have a certain

liking for donkeys, principally, I believe, because of the delightful



things that Sterne has written of them. But this was not after the

pattern of the ass at Lyons. He was of a white colour, that seemed



to fit him rather for rare festal occasions than for constant

drudgery. Besides, he was very small, and of the daintiest portions



you can imagine in a donkey. And so, sure enough, you had only to

look at him to see he had never worked. There was something too



roguish and wanton in his face, a look too like that of a schoolboy

or a street Arab, to have survived much cudgelling. It was plain



that these feet had kicked off sportive children oftener than they

had plodded with a freight through miry lanes. He was altogether a



fine-weather, holiday sort of donkey; and though he was just then

somewhat solemnised and rueful, he still gave proof of the levity of



his disposition by impudently wagging his ears at me as I drew near.

I say he was somewhat solemnised just then; for, with the admirable



instinct of all men and animals under restraint, he had so wound and

wound the halter about the tree that he could go neither back nor



forwards, nor so much as put down his head to browse. There he

stood, poor rogue, part puzzled, part angry, part, I believe, amused.



He had not given up hope, and dully revolved the problem in his head,

giving ever and again another jerk at the few inches of free rope



that still remained unwound. A humorous sort of sympathy for the

creature took hold upon me. I went up, and, not without some trouble



on my part, and much distrust and resistance on the part of Neddy,

got him forced backwards until the whole length of the halter was set



loose, and he was once more as free a donkey as I dared to make him.

I was pleased (as people are) with this friendly action to a fellow-



creature in tribulation, and glanced back over my shoulder to see how

he was profiting by his freedom. The brute was looking after me; and



no sooner did he catch my eye than he put up his long white face into

the air, pulled an impudent mouth at me, and began to bray



derisively. If ever any one person made a grimace at another, that

donkey made a grimace at me. The hardened ingratitude of his



behaviour, and the impertinence that inspired his whole face as he

curled up his lip, and showed his teeth, and began to bray, so



tickled me, and was so much in keeping with what I had imagined to

myself about his character, that I could not find it in my heart to



be angry, and burst into a peal of heartylaughter. This seemed to

strike the ass as a repartee, so he brayed at me again by way of



rejoinder; and we went on for a while, braying and laughing, until I

began to grow aweary of it, and, shouting a derisive farewell, turned



to pursue my way. In so doing - it was like going suddenly into cold

water - I found myself face to face with a prim little old maid. She



was all in a flutter, the poor old dear! She had concluded beyond

question that this must be a lunatic who stood laughing aloud at a



white donkey in the placid beech-woods. I was sure, by her face,

that she had already recommended her spirit most religiously to



Heaven, and prepared herself for the worst. And so, to reassure her,

I uncovered and besought her, after a very staid fashion, to put me



on my way to Great Missenden. Her voice trembled a little, to be

sure, but I think her mind was set at rest; and she told me, very



explicitly, to follow the path until I came to the end of the wood,

and then I should see the village below me in the bottom of the



valley. And, with mutual courtesies, the little old maid and I went

on our respective ways.



Nor had she misled me. Great Missenden was close at hand, as she had

said, in the trough of a gentle valley, with many great elms about



it. The smoke from its chimneys went up pleasantly in the afternoon




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