the mountains(山脉)-第21节
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this trouble。〃
〃You didn't tell me to head them by the little gulch；〃 babbles Algernon。
This is just the utterly fool reply that upsets your artificial and
elaborate courtesy。 You probably foam at the mouth； and dance on your
hat； and shriek wild imploring imprecations to the astonished hills。 This
is not because you have an unfortunate disposition； but because Algernon
has been doing precisely the same thing for two months。
〃Listen to him！〃 you howl。 〃Didn't tell him！ Why you gangle…
legged bug…eyed soft…handed pop… eared tenderfoot； you！ there are some
things you never THINK of telling a man。 I never told you to open your
mouth to spit； either。 If you had a hired man at five dollars a year who
was so all…around hopelessly thick…headed and incompetent as you are；
you'd fire him to…morrow morning。〃
Then Algernon looks truly sorry； and doesn't answer back as he ought
to in order to give occasion for the relief of a really soul…satisfying scrap；
and utters the soft answer humbly。 So your wrath is turned and there
remain only the dregs which taste like some of Algernon's cooking。
It is rather good fun to relieve the bitterness of the heart。 Let me tell
you a few more tales of the tenderfoot； premising always that I love him；
and when at home seek him out to smoke pipes at his fireside； to yarn over
the trail； to wonder how much rancor he cherishes against the maniacs
who declaimed against him； and by way of compensation to build up in
the mind of his sweetheart； his wife； or his mother a fearful and wonderful
reputation for him as the Terror of the Trail。 These tales are selected
from many； mere samples of a varied experience。 They occurred here；
there； and everywhere； and at various times。 Let no one try to lay them at
the door of our Tenderfoot merely because such is his title in this
narrative。 We called him that by way of distinction。
Once upon a time some of us were engaged in climbing a mountain
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rising some five thousand feet above our starting…place。 As we toiled
along； one of the pack…horses became impatient and pushed ahead。 We
did not mind that； especially； as long as she stayed in sight； but in a little
while the trail was closed in by brush and timber。
〃Algernon；〃 said we； 〃just push on and get ahead of that mare； will
you？〃
Algernon disappeared。 We continued to climb。 The trail was
steep and rather bad。 The labor was strenuous； and we checked off
each thousand feet with thankfulness。 As we saw nothing further of
Algernon； we naturally concluded he had headed the mare and was
continuing on the trail。 Then through a little opening we saw him
riding cheerfully along without a care to occupy his mind。 Just for luck
we hailed him。
〃Hi there； Algernon！ Did you find her？〃
〃Haven't seen her yet。〃
〃Well； you'd better push on a little faster。 She may leave the trail at
the summit。〃
Then one of us； endowed by heaven with a keen intuitive instinct for
tenderfeet；no one could have a knowledge of them； they are too
unexpected；had an inspiration。
〃I suppose there are tracks on the trail ahead of you？〃 he called。
We stared at each other； then at the trail。 Only one horse had
preceded us；that of the tenderfoot。 But of course Algernon was
nevertheless due for his chuckle…headed reply。
〃I haven't looked；〃 said he。
That raised the storm conventional to such an occasion。
〃What in the name of seventeen little dicky…birds did you think you
were up to！〃 we howled。 〃Were you going to ride ahead until dark in the
childlike faith that that mare might show up somewhere？ Here's a nice
state of affairs。 The trail is all tracked up now with our horses； and
heaven knows whether she's left tracks where she turned off。 It may be
rocky there。〃
We tied the animals savagely； and started back on foot。 It would be
criminal to ask our saddle…horses to repeat that climb。 Algernon we
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ordered to stay with them。
〃And don't stir from them no matter what happens； or you'll get lost；〃
we commanded out of the wisdom of long experience。
We climbed down the four thousand odd feet； and then back again；
leading the mare。 She had turned off not forty rods from where Algernon
had taken up her pursuit。
Your Algernon never does get down to little details like trackshis
scheme of life is much too magnificent。 To be sure he would not know
fresh tracks from old if he should see them； so it is probably quite as well。
In the morning he goes out after the horses。 The bunch he finds easily
enough； but one is missing。 What would you do about it？ You would
naturally walk in a circle around the bunch until you crossed the track of
the truant leading away from it； wouldn't you？ If you made a wide
enough circle you would inevitably cross that track； wouldn't you？
provided the horse started out with the bunch in the first place。 Then you
would follow the track； catch the horse； and bring him back。 Is this
Algernon's procedure？ Not any。 〃Ha！〃 says he； 〃old Brownie is
missing。 I will hunt him up。〃 Then he maunders off into the scenery；
trusting to high heaven that he is going to blunder against Brownie as a
prominent feature of the landscape。 After a couple of hours you probably
saddle up Brownie and go out to find the tenderfoot。
He has a horrifying facility in losing himself。 Nothing is more
cheering than to arise from a hard… earned couch of ease for the purpose of
trailing an Algernon or so through the gathering dusk to the spot where he
has managed to find somethinga very real despair of ever getting back
to food and warmth。 Nothing is more irritating then than his gratitude。
I traveled once in the Black Hills with such a tenderfoot。 We were
off from the base of supplies for a ten days' trip with only a saddle…horse
apiece。 This was near first principles； as our total provisions consisted of
two pounds of oatmeal； some tea； and sugar。 Among other things we
climbed Mt。 Harney。 The trail； after we left the horses； was as plain as a
strip of Brussels carpet； but somehow or another that tenderfoot managed
to get off it。 I hunted him up。 We gained the top； watched the sunset；
and started down。 The tenderfoot； I thought； was fairly at my coat…tails；
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but when I turned to speak to him he had gone； he must have turned off at
one of the numerous little openings in the brush。 I sat down to wait。 By
and by； away down the west slope of the mountain； I heard a shot； and a
faint； a very faint； despairing yell。 I； also； shot and yelled。 After
various signals of the sort； it became evident that the tenderfoot was
approaching。 In a moment he tore by at full speed； his hat off； his eye
wild； his six…shooter popping at every jump。 He passed within six feet of
me； and never saw me。 Subsequently I left him on the prairie； with
accurate and simple instructions。
〃There's the mountain range。 You simply keep that to your left and
ride eight hours。 Then you'll see Rapid City。 You simply CAN'T get
lost。 Those hills stick out like a sore thumb。〃
Two days later he drifted into Rapid City； having wandered off
somewhere to the east。 How he had done it I can never guess。 That is
his secret。
