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an inland voyage-第14部分
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deifying tobacco and proclaimed the world excellent。 It was the last good hour of the day; and I dwell upon it with extreme complacency。
On one side of the valley; high up on the chalky summit of the hill; a ploughman with his team appeared and disappeared at regular intervals。 At each revelation he stood still for a few seconds against the sky: for all the world (as the CIGARETTE declared) like a toy Burns who should have just ploughed up the Mountain Daisy。 He was the only living thing within view; unless we are to count the river。
On the other side of the valley a group of red roofs and a belfry showed among the foliage。 Thence some inspired bell…ringer made the afternoon musical on a chime of bells。 There was something very sweet and taking in the air he played; and we thought we had never heard bells speak so intelligibly; or sing so melodiously; as these。 It must have been to some such measure that the spinners and the young maids sang; 'Come away; Death;' in the Shakespearian Illyria。 There is so often a threatening note; something blatant and metallic; in the voice of bells; that I believe we have fully more pain than pleasure from hearing them; but these; as they sounded abroad; now high; now low; now with a plaintive cadence that caught the ear like the burthen of a popular song; were always moderate and tunable; and seemed to fall in with the spirit of still; rustic places; like the noise of a waterfall or the babble of a rookery in spring。 I could have asked the bell…ringer for his blessing; good; sedate old man; who swung the rope so gently to the time of his meditations。 I could have blessed the priest or the heritors; or whoever may be concerned with such affairs in France; who had left these sweet old bells to gladden the afternoon; and not held meetings; and made collections; and had their names repeatedly printed in the local paper; to rig up a peal of brand… new; brazen; Birmingham…hearted substitutes; who should bombard their sides to the provocation of a brand…new bell…ringer; and fill the echoes of the valley with terror and riot。
At last the bells ceased; and with their note the sun withdrew。 The piece was at an end; shadow and silence possessed the valley of the Oise。 We took to the paddle with glad hearts; like people who have sat out a noble performance and returned to work。 The river was more dangerous here; it ran swifter; the eddies were more sudden and violent。 All the way down we had had our fill of difficulties。 Sometimes it was a weir which could be shot; sometimes one so shallow and full of stakes that we must withdraw the boats from the water and carry them round。 But the chief sort of obstacle was a consequence of the late high winds。 Every two or three hundred yards a tree had fallen across the river; and usually involved more than another in its fall。
Often there was free water at the end; and we could steer round the leafy promontory and hear the water sucking and bubbling among the twigs。 Often; again; when the tree reached from bank to bank; there was room; by lying close; to shoot through underneath; canoe and all。 Sometimes it was necessary to get out upon the trunk itself and pull the boats across; and sometimes; when the stream was too impetuous for this; there was nothing for it but to land and 'carry over。' This made a fine series of accidents in the day's career; and kept us aware of ourselves。
Shortly after our re…embarkation; while I was leading by a long way; and still full of a noble; exulting spirit in honour of the sun; the swift pace; and the church bells; the river made one of its leonine pounces round a corner; and I was aware of another fallen tree within a stone…cast。 I had my backboard down in a trice; and aimed for a place where the trunk seemed high enough above the water; and the branches not too thick to let me slip below。 When a man has just vowed eternal brotherhood with the universe; he is not in a temper to take great determinations coolly; and this; which might have been a very important determination for me; had not been taken under a happy star。 The tree caught me about the chest; and while I was yet struggling to make less of myself and get through; the river took the matter out of my hands; and bereaved me of my boat。 The ARETHUSA swung round broadside on; leaned over; ejected so much of me as still remained on board; and thus disencumbered; whipped under the tree; righted; and went merrily away down stream。
I do not know how long it was before I scrambled on to the tree to which I was left clinging; but it was longer than I cared about。 My thoughts were of a grave and almost sombre character; but I still clung to my paddle。 The stream ran away with my heels as fast as I could pull up my shoulders; and I seemed; by the weight; to have all the water of the Oise in my trousers…pockets。 You can never know; till you try it; what a dead pull a river makes against a man。 Death himself had me by the heels; for this was his last ambuscado; and he must now join personally in the fray。 And still I held to my paddle。 At last I dragged myself on to my stomach on the trunk; and lay there a breathless sop; with a mingled sense of humour and injustice。 A poor figure I must have presented to Burns upon the hill…top with his team。 But there was the paddle in my hand。 On my tomb; if ever I have one; I mean to get these words inscribed: 'He clung to his paddle。'
The CIGARETTE had gone past a while before; for; as I might have observed; if I had been a little less pleased with the universe at the moment; there was a clear way round the tree…top at the farther side。 He had offered his services to haul me out; but as I was then already on my elbows; I had declined; and sent him down stream after the truant ARETHUSA。 The stream was too rapid for a man to mount with one canoe; let alone two; upon his hands。 So I crawled along the trunk to shore; and proceeded down the meadows by the river…side。 I was so cold that my heart was sore。 I had now an idea of my own why the reeds so bitterly shivered。 I could have given any of them a lesson。 The CIGARETTE remarked facetiously that he thought I was 'taking exercise' as I drew near; until he made out for certain that I was only twittering with cold。 I had a rub down with a towel; and donned a dry suit from the india…rubber bag。 But I was not my own man again for the rest of the voyage。 I had a queasy sense that I wore my last dry clothes upon my body。 The struggle had tired me; and perhaps; whether I knew it or not; I was a little dashed in spirit。 The devouring element in the universe had leaped out against me; in this green valley quickened by a running stream。 The bells were all very pretty in their way; but I had heard some of the hollow notes of Pan's music。 Would the wicked river drag me down by the heels; indeed? and look so beautiful all the time? Nature's good…humour was only skin…deep after all。
There was still a long way to go by the winding course of the stream; and darkness had fallen; and a late bell was ringing in Origny Sainte…Benoite; when we arrived。
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