Chapter 8 On The Great Alkali Plain

IN the central portion of the great North American Continent there lies an arid and repulsive desert, which for many a long year served as a barrier against the advance of civilisation. From the Sierra Nevada to Nebraska, and from the Yellowstone River in the north to the Colorado upon the south, is a region of desolation and silence. Nor is Nature always in one mood throughout this grim district. It comprises snow-capped and lofty mountains, and dark and gloomy valleys. There are swift-flowing rivers which dash through jagged canons; and there are enormous plains, which in winter are white with snow, and in summer are grey with the saline alkali dust. They all preserve, however, the common characteristics of barrenness, inhospitality, and misery.

There are no inhabitants of this land of despair. A band of Pawnees or of Blackfeet may occasionally traverse it in order to reach other hunting-grounds, but the hardiest of the braves are glad to lose sight of those awesome plains, and to find themselves once more upon their prairies. The coyote skulks among the scrub, the buzzard flaps heavily through the air, and the clumsy grizzly bear lumbers through the dark ravines, and picks up such sustenance as it can amongst the rocks. These are the sole dwellers in the wilderness.

In the whole world there can be no more dreary view than that from the northern slope of the Sierra Blanco. As far as the eye can reach stretches the great flat plain-land, all dusted over with patches of alkali, and intersected by clumps of the dwarfish chaparral bushes. On the extreme verge of the horizon lie a long chain of mountain peaks, with their rugged summits flecked with snow. In this great stretch of country there is no sign of life, nor of anything appertaining to life. There is no bird in the steel-blue heaven, no movement upon the dull, grey earth -- above all, there is absolute silence. Listen as one may, there is no shadow of a sound in all that mighty wilderness; nothing but silence -- complete and heart-subduing silence.

It has been said there is nothing appertaining to life upon the broad plain. That is hardly true. Looking down from the Sierra Blanco, one sees a pathway traced out across the desert, which winds away and is lost in the extreme distance. It is rutted with wheels and trodden down by the feet of many adventurers. Here and there there are scattered white objects which glisten in the sun, and stand out against the dull deposit of alkali. Approach, and examine them! They are bones: some large and coarse, others smaller and more delicate. The former have belonged to oxen, and the latter to men. For fifteen hundred miles one may trace this ghastly caravan route by these scattered remains of those who had fallen by the wayside.

Looking down on this very scene, there stood upon the fourth of May, eighteen hundred and forty-seven, a solitary traveller. His appearance was such that he might have been the very genius or demon of the region. An observer would have found it difficult to say whether he was nearer to forty or to sixty. His face was lean and haggard, and the brown parchment-like skin was drawn tightly over the projecting bones; his long, brown hair and beard were all flecked and dashed with white; his eyes were sunken in his head, and burned with an unnatural lustre; while the hand which grasped his rifle was hardly more fleshy than that of a skeleton. As he stood, he leaned upon his weapon for support, and yet his tall figure and the massive framework of his bones suggested a wiry and vigorous constitution. His gaunt face, however, and his clothes, which hung so baggily over his shrivelled limbs, proclaimed what it was that gave him that senile and decrepit appearance. The man was dying -- dying from hunger and from thirst.

He had toiled painfully down the ravine, and on to this little elevation, in the vain hope of seeing some signs of water. Now the great salt plain stretched before his eyes, and the distant belt of savage mountains, without a sign anywhere of plant or tree, which might indicate the presence of moisture. In all that broad landscape there was no gleam of hope. North, and east, and west he looked with wild questioning eyes, and then he realised that his wanderings had come to an end, and that there, on that barren crag, he was about to die. "Why not here, as well as in a feather bed, twenty years hence," he muttered, as he seated himself in the shelter of a boulder.

Before sitting down, he had deposited upon the ground his useless rifle, and also a large bundle tied up in a grey shawl, which he had carried slung over his right shoulder. It appeared to be somewhat too heavy for his strength, for in lowering it, it came down on the ground with some little violence. Instantly there broke from the grey parcel a little moaning cry, and from it there protruded a small, scared face, with very bright brown eyes, and two little speckled, dimpled fists.

"You've hurt me!" said a childish voice reproachfully.

"Have I though," the man answered penitently, "I didn't go for to do it." As he spoke he unwrapped the grey shawl and extricated a pretty little girl of about five years of age, whose dainty shoes and smart pink frock with its little linen apron all bespoke a mother's care. The child was pale and wan, but her healthy arms and legs showed that she had suffered less than her companion.

"How is it now?" he answered anxiously, for she was still rubbing the towsy golden curls which covered the back of her head.

"Kiss it and make it well," she said, with perfect gravity, shoving the injured part up to him. "That's what mother used to do. Where's mother?"

"Mother's gone. I guess you'll see her before long."

"Gone, eh!" said the little girl. "Funny, she didn't say good-bye; she 'most always did if she was just goin' over to Auntie's for tea, and now she's been away three days. Say, it's awful dry, ain't it? Ain't there no water, nor nothing to eat?"

"No, there ain't nothing, dearie. You'll just need to be patient awhile, and then you'll be all right. Put your head up agin me like that, and then you'll feel bullier. It ain't easy to talk when your lips is like leather, but I guess I'd best let you know how the cards lie. What's that you've got?"

"Pretty things! fine things!" cried the little girl enthusiastically, holding up two glittering fragments of mica. "When we goes back to home I'll give them to brother Bob."

"You'll see prettier things than them soon," said the man confidently. "You just wait a bit. I was going to tell you though -- you remember when we left the river?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well, we reckoned we'd strike another river soon, d'ye see. But there was somethin' wrong; compasses, or map, or somethin', and it didn't turn up. Water ran out. Just except a little drop for the likes of you and -- and ----"

"And you couldn't wash yourself," interrupted his companion gravely, staring up at his grimy visage.

"No, nor drink. And Mr. Bender, he was the fust to go, and then Indian Pete, and then Mrs. McGregor, and then Johnny Hones, and then, dearie, your mother."

"Then mother's a deader too," cried the little girl dropping her face in her pinafore and sobbing bitterly.

"Yes, they all went except you and me. Then I thought there was some chance of water in this direction, so I heaved you over my shoulder and we tramped it together. It don't seem as though we've improved matters. There's an almighty small chance for us now!"

"Do you mean that we are going to die too?" asked the child, checking her sobs, and raising her tear-stained face.

"I guess that's about the size of it."

"Why didn't you say so before?" she said, laughing gleefully. "You gave me such a fright. Why, of course, now as long as we die we'll be with mother again."

"Yes, you will, dearie."

"And you too. I'll tell her how awful good you've been. I'll bet she meets us at the door of Heaven with a big pitcher of water, and a lot of buckwheat cakes, hot, and toasted on both sides, like Bob and me was fond of. How long will it be first?"

"I don't know -- not very long." The man's eyes were fixed upon the northern horizon. In the blue vault of the heaven there had appeared three little specks which increased in size every moment, so rapidly did they approach. They speedily resolved themselves into three large brown birds, which circled over the heads of the two wanderers, and then settled upon some rocks which overlooked them. They were buzzards, the vultures of the west, whose coming is the forerunner of death.

"Cocks and hens," cried the little girl gleefully, pointing at their ill-omened forms, and clapping her hands to make them rise. "Say, did God make this country?"

"In course He did," said her companion, rather startled by this unexpected question.

"He made the country down in Illinois, and He made the Missouri," the little girl continued. "I guess somebody else made the country in these parts. It's not nearly so well done. They forgot the water and the trees."

"What would ye think of offering up prayer?" the man asked diffidently.

"It ain't night yet," she answered.

"It don't matter. It ain't quite regular, but He won't mind that, you bet. You say over them ones that you used to say every night in the waggon when we was on the Plains."

"Why don't you say some yourself?" the child asked, with wondering eyes.

"I disremember them," he answered. "I hain't said none since I was half the height o' that gun. I guess it's never too late. You say them out, and I'll stand by and come in on the choruses."

"Then you'll need to kneel down, and me too," she said, laying the shawl out for that purpose. "You've got to put your hands up like this. It makes you feel kind o' good."

It was a strange sight had there been anything but the buzzards to see it. Side by side on the narrow shawl knelt the two wanderers, the little prattling child and the reckless, hardened adventurer. Her chubby face, and his haggard, angular visage were both turned up to the cloudless heaven in heartfelt entreaty to that dread being with whom they were face to face, while the two voices -- the one thin and clear, the other deep and harsh -- united in the entreaty for mercy and forgiveness. The prayer finished, they resumed their seat in the shadow of the boulder until the child fell asleep, nestling upon the broad breast of her protector. He watched over her slumber for some time, but Nature proved to be too strong for him. For three days and three nights he had allowed himself neither rest nor repose. Slowly the eyelids drooped over the tired eyes, and the head sunk lower and lower upon the breast, until the man's grizzled beard was mixed with the gold tresses of his companion, and both slept the same deep and dreamless slumber.

Had the wanderer remained awake for another half hour a strange sight would have met his eyes. Far away on the extreme verge of the alkali plain there rose up a little spray of dust, very slight at first, and hardly to be distinguished from the mists of the distance, but gradually growing higher and broader until it formed a solid, well-defined cloud. This cloud continued to increase in size until it became evident that it could only be raised by a great multitude of moving creatures. In more fertile spots the observer would have come to the conclusion that one of those great herds of bisons which graze upon the prairie land was approaching him. This was obviously impossible in these arid wilds. As the whirl of dust drew nearer to the solitary bluff upon which the two castaways were reposing, the canvas-covered tilts of waggons and the figures of armed horsemen began to show up through the haze, and the apparition revealed itself as being a great caravan upon its journey for the West. But what a caravan! When the head of it had reached the base of the mountains, the rear was not yet visible on the horizon. Right across the enormous plain stretched the straggling array, waggons and carts, men on horseback, and men on foot. Innumerable women who staggered along under burdens, and children who toddled beside the waggons or peeped out from under the white coverings. This was evidently no ordinary party of immigrants, but rather some nomad people who had been compelled from stress of circumstances to seek themselves a new country. There rose through the clear air a confused clattering and rumbling from this great mass of humanity, with the creaking of wheels and the neighing of horses. Loud as it was, it was not sufficient to rouse the two tired wayfarers above them.

At the head of the column there rode a score or more of grave ironfaced men, clad in sombre homespun garments and armed with rifles. On reaching the base of the bluff they halted, and held a short council among themselves.

"The wells are to the right, my brothers," said one, a hard-lipped, clean-shaven man with grizzly hair.

"To the right of the Sierra Blanco -- so we shall reach the Rio Grande," said another.

"Fear not for water," cried a third. "He who could draw it from the rocks will not now abandon His own chosen people."

"Amen! Amen!" responded the whole party.

They were about to resume their journey when one of the youngest and keenest-eyed uttered an exclamation and pointed up at the rugged crag above them. From its summit there fluttered a little wisp of pink, showing up hard and bright against the grey rocks behind. At the sight there was a general reining up of horses and unslinging of guns, while fresh horsemen came galloping up to reinforce the vanguard. The word `Redskins' was on every lip.

"There can't be any number of Injuns here," said the elderly man who appeared to be in command. "We have passed the Pawnees, and there are no other tribes until we cross the great mountains."

"Shall I go forward and see, Brother Stangerson," asked one of the band.

"And I," "and I," cried a dozen voices.

"Leave your horses below and we will await you here," the Elder answered. In a moment the young fellows had dismounted, fastened their horses, and were ascending the precipitous slope which led up to the object which had excited their curiosity. They advanced rapidly and noiselessly, with the confidence and dexterity of practised scouts. The watchers from the plain below could see them flit from rock to rock until their figures stood out against the skyline. The young man who had first given the alarm was leading them. Suddenly his followers saw him throw up his hands, as though overcome with astonishment, and on joining him they were affected in the same way by the sight which met their eyes.

On the little plateau which crowned the barren hill there stood a single giant boulder, and against this boulder there lay a tall man, long-bearded and hard-featured, but of an excessive thinness. His placid face and regular breathing showed that he was fast asleep. Beside him lay a little child, with her round white arms encircling his brown sinewy neck, and her golden haired head resting upon the breast of his velveteen tunic. Her rosy lips were parted, showing the regular line of snow-white teeth within, and a playful smile played over her infantile features. Her plump little white legs terminating in white socks and neat shoes with shining buckles, offered a strange contrast to the long shrivelled members of her companion. On the ledge of rock above this strange couple there stood three solemn buzzards, who, at the sight of the new comers uttered raucous screams of disappointment and flapped sullenly away.

The cries of the foul birds awoke the two sleepers who stared about them in bewilderment. The man staggered to his feet and looked down upon the plain which had been so desolate when sleep had overtaken him, and which was now traversed by this enormous body of men and of beasts. His face assumed an expression of incredulity as he gazed, and he passed his boney hand over his eyes. "This is what they call delirium, I guess," he muttered. The child stood beside him, holding on to the skirt of his coat, and said nothing but looked all round her with the wondering questioning gaze of childhood.

The rescuing party were speedily able to convince the two castaways that their appearance was no delusion. One of them seized the little girl, and hoisted her upon his shoulder, while two others supported her gaunt companion, and assisted him towards the waggons.

"My name is John Ferrier," the wanderer explained; "me and that little un are all that's left o' twenty-one people. The rest is all dead o' thirst and hunger away down in the south."

"Is she your child?" asked someone.

"I guess she is now," the other cried, defiantly; "she's mine 'cause I saved her. No man will take her from me. She's Lucy Ferrier from this day on. Who are you, though?" he continued, glancing with curiosity at his stalwart, sunburned rescuers; "there seems to be a powerful lot of ye."

"Nigh upon ten thousand," said one of the young men; "we are the persecuted children of God -- the chosen of the Angel Merona."

"I never heard tell on him," said the wanderer. "He appears to have chosen a fair crowd of ye."

"Do not jest at that which is sacred," said the other sternly. "We are of those who believe in those sacred writings, drawn in Egyptian letters on plates of beaten gold, which were handed unto the holy Joseph Smith at Palmyra. We have come from Nauvoo, in the State of Illinois, where we had founded our temple. We have come to seek a refuge from the violent man and from the godless, even though it be the heart of the desert."

The name of Nauvoo evidently recalled recollections to John Ferrier. "I see," he said, "you are the Mormons."

"We are the Mormons," answered his companions with one voice.

"And where are you going?"

"We do not know. The hand of God is leading us under the person of our Prophet. You must come before him. He shall say what is to be done with you."

They had reached the base of the hill by this time, and were surrounded by crowds of the pilgrims -- pale-faced meek-looking women, strong laughing children, and anxious earnest-eyed men. Many were the cries of astonishment and of commiseration which arose from them when they perceived the youth of one of the strangers and the destitution of the other. Their escort did not halt, however, but pushed on, followed by a great crowd of Mormons, until they reached a waggon, which was conspicuous for its great size and for the gaudiness and smartness of its appearance. Six horses were yoked to it, whereas the others were furnished with two, or, at most, four a-piece. Beside the driver there sat a man who could not have been more than thirty years of age, but whose massive head and resolute expression marked him as a leader. He was reading a brown-backed volume, but as the crowd approached he laid it aside, and listened attentively to an account of the episode. Then he turned to the two castaways.

"If we take you with us," he said, in solemn words, "it can only be as believers in our own creed. We shall have no wolves in our fold. Better far that your bones should bleach in this wilderness than that you should prove to be that little speck of decay which in time corrupts the whole fruit. Will you come with us on these terms?"

"Guess I'll come with you on any terms," said Ferrier, with such emphasis that the grave Elders could not restrain a smile. The leader alone retained his stern, impressive expression.

"Take him, Brother Stangerson," he said, "give him food and drink, and the child likewise. Let it be your task also to teach him our holy creed. We have delayed long enough. Forward! On, on to Zion!"

"On, on to Zion!" cried the crowd of Mormons, and the words rippled down the long caravan, passing from mouth to mouth until they died away in a dull murmur in the far distance. With a cracking of whips and a creaking of wheels the great waggons got into motion, and soon the whole caravan was winding along once more. The Elder to whose care the two waifs had been committed, led them to his waggon, where a meal was already awaiting them.

"You shall remain here," he said. "In a few days you will have recovered from your fatigues. In the meantime, remember that now and for ever you are of our religion. Brigham Young has said it, and he has spoken with the voice of Joseph Smith, which is the voice of God."

第八章　大盐碱荒漠上

在北美大陆的中部，有一大片干旱荒凉的沙漠；多少年来，它一直是文化发展的障碍。从内华达山脉到尼布拉斯卡，从北部的黄石河到南部的科罗拉多，完全是一起荒凉①②沉寂的区域。但是在这篇凉可怕的地区里，大自然的景色也不尽同。这里有大雪封盖的高山峻岭，有阴沉昏暗的深谷，也有湍急的河流，在山石嵯峨的峡谷之间奔流；也有无边的荒原，冬天积雪遍地，夏日则呈现出一起灰色的硷地。虽然如此，一般的特点还是荒芜不毛、寸草不生、无限凄凉。

①②均为美国中西部地名，现均为州。——译者注

在这篇无望的土地上，人烟绝迹。只有波尼人和黑足①人偶尔结队走过这里，前往其他猎区；即使是最勇敢最坚强②的人，也巴不得早日走完这篇可怕的荒原，重新投身到大草原中去。只有山狗躲躲藏藏地在矮丛林中穿行，巨雕缓慢地在空中翱翔，还有那蠢笨的灰熊，出没在阴沉的峡谷里，寻找食物。它们是荒原里绝无仅有的居客。

世界上再也没有什么地方会比布兰卡山脉北麓的景象③更为凄凉的了。极目四望，荒原上只见被矮小的槲树林隔断的一起起盐硷地。地平线的尽头，山峦起伏，积雪皑皑，闪烁着点点银光。在这篇土地上既没有生命，也没有和生命有关的东西。铁青色的天空中飞鸟绝迹，灰暗的大地上不见动静。总之，一起死寂。倾耳静听，在这篇广阔荒芜的大地上，毫无声息，只是一起彻底的、令人灰心绝望的死寂。

有人说，在这广袤的原野上没有一点和生命有关的东西存在，这种说法也不真实。从布兰卡山脉往下观看，可以看见一条小路，曲曲弯弯地穿过沙漠，消逝在遥远的地平线上。这条小路是经过多少车辆辗轧，经过无数冒险家的践踏而形成的。这儿一堆，那儿一堆，到处散布着白森森的东西在日光下闪闪发光，在这篇单调的硷地上显得非常刺眼。走近仔细一看，原来是一堆堆白骨：又大又粗的是牛骨；较小较细的是人骨。在这一千五百英里可怕的商旅道路上，人们是沿着前人倒毙路旁的累累遗骨前进的。

①②波尼人、黑足人均为美国西北部地区原有印第安人的部落名称。——译者注

③布兰卡山脉是美国洛矶山脉的一支，在科罗拉多州境内。——译者注

一八四起年五月四日，一个孤单的旅客从山上俯望着这幅凄惨的情景。从他的外表看来，简直就是这个绝境里的鬼怪精灵。即便是具有观察力的人，也难猜出他究竟是四十岁还是年近六十。他的脸憔悴瘦削，干羊皮似的棕色皮肤紧紧地包着一把突出的骨头。长长的棕色须发已然斑白，深陷的双眼，射出呆滞的目光。握着来复枪的那只手，上面的肌肉比骨架也多不了许多。他站着的时候，要用枪支撑着身体。可是，他那高高的身材、魁伟的体格，可以看出他当初是一个十分健壮的人。但是，他那削瘦的面庞和罩在骨瘦如柴的四肢上的大口袋似的衣服，使他看起来老朽不堪。这个人由于饥渴交起，已临死境了。

他曾经忍受了痛苦，沿着山谷跋涉前进，现在又挣扎着来到这岂不大的高地，他抱着渺茫的希望，但愿能够发现点滴的水源。现在，在他面前展开的只是无边无际的硷地和那远在天边的连绵不断的荒山，看不到一棵树木的踪影，因为有树木生长的地方就可能会有水气。在这篇广阔的土地上，一点希望也没有。他张大疯狂而困惑的眼睛向北方、西方和东方了望了以后，他明白了，漂泊的日子已经到了尽头，自己就要葬身这片荒凉的岩崖之上了。"死在这里，和二十年后死在鹅绒锦被的床上又有什么区别呢？"他喃喃地说着，一面就在一块突出的大石的阴影里坐了下来。

他在坐下之前，先把他那无用的来复枪放在地上，然后又把背在右肩上的用一大块灰色披肩裹着的大包袱放了下来。看来他已经精疲力竭，拿不动了。当他放下包袱的时候，着地很重。因此从这灰色的包袱里发出了哭声，钻出来受惊的、长着明亮的棕色眼睛的脸，并且还伸出了两个胖胖的长着浅涡和雀斑的小拳头。

“你把我摔痛啦。"这个孩子用埋怨的口气稚平地说。

“是吗？"这个男人很抱歉地回答说，“我不是故意的。"说着他就打开了灰色包袱，从里边抱出了一个美丽的小女孩。这个小女孩大约五岁左右，穿着一双精致的小鞋，漂亮的粉红色上衣，麻布围嘴。从这些打扮可以看出，妈妈对她是爱护得无微不至的。这个孩子脸色虽也有些苍白，但是她那结实的胳膊和小腿都说明她所经受的苦难并没有她的同伴多。

“现在怎么样了？"他焦急地问道，因为她还在揉着脑后的蓬乱的金黄色头发。

“你吻吻这里就好了，"她认真地说，并且就把头上碰着的地方指给他看，“妈妈总是这样做的。妈妈哪里去了？”

“妈妈走了。我想不久你就会见到她的。”

小女孩说：“什么，走了吗？真破怪，她还没有和我说再见呢。她以前每次到姑母家吃茶去的时候总要说一声的。可是这回她都走了三天了。喂，嘴干得要命，是不是？难道这里吃的喝的都没有吗？”

“没有，什么也没有，亲爱的。只要你暂时忍一忍，过一会儿就会好的。你把头靠在我身上，啊，就这样你就会舒服些了。我的嘴唇也干得象妻子一样了，说话都有些费劲儿，但是我想我还是把真实情况告诉你吧。你手里拿的什么？”

小女孩拿起两块云母石片给他看，高兴地说：“多漂亮啊！真好！回家我就把它送给小弟弟鲍伯。”

大人确信不疑地说：“不久你就会看到比这更漂亮的东西了。等一会儿。刚才我正要告诉你，你还记得咱们离开那条河的情形吗？”

“哦，记得。”

“好，当时咱们估计不久就会再碰到另一条河。明白吗？可是不知道什么东西出了毛病。是罗盘呢，还是地图，或是别的什么出了毛病，以后就再也没有找到河了。水喝完了，只剩下一点点，留给象你这样的孩子们喝。后来——后来——”

“你连脸都不能洗了，"他的小伙伴严肃地说，打断了他的话头。同时，她抬起头来望着他那张肮脏的脸。

“不但不能洗脸，连喝的也没有了。后来本德先生第一个走了，随后是印第安人品特，接着就是麦克格瑞哥太太、江尼•宏斯，再后，亲爱的，就是你的妈妈了。”

“这么说，妈妈也死了。"小女孩哭着说，一面用围嘴蝍e着脸，痛哭起来。

“对了，他们都走了，只剩下你和我。后来我想也许这边可能找到水。于是我就把你背在肩上，咱们两个人就一步一步地前进。看来情形还是没有好转。咱们现在活下去的希望很小了！”

孩子停止了哭声，仰起淌满泪水的脸问道，“你是说咱们也要死了吗？”

“我想大概是到了这个地步了。”

小女孩开心地笑着说：“为什么你刚才不早点说呢？你吓了我一大跳。你看，不是吗，只要咱们也死了，咱们就能又和妈妈在一起了。”

“对，一定能，小宝贝儿。”

“你也会见到她的。我要告诉妈妈，你待我太好了。我敢说，她一定会在天国的门口迎接咱们，还拿着一大壶水，还有好多荞麦饼，热气腾腾，两面都烤得焦黄焦黄的，就象我和鲍伯所爱吃的那样。可是咱们还要多久才能死呢？”

“我不知道——不会太久了。"这时，大人一面说着，一面凝视着北方的地平线。原来在蓝色的天穹下，出现了三个黑点，黑点越来越大，来势极快。顷刻之间，就看出来是三只褐色的大鸟了，它们在这两个流浪人的头上盘旋着，接着就在他们上面的一块大石上落将下来。这是三只巨雕，也就是美国西部所谓的秃鹰；它们的出现，就是死亡的预兆。

“公鸡和母鸡，"小女孩指着这三个凶物快活地叫道，并且连连拍着小手，打算惊动它们使它们飞起来。“喂，这个地方也是上帝造的吗？”

“当然是他造的。"她的同伴回答说。她这样突然一问，倒使他吃了一惊。

小女孩接着说：“那边的伊里诺州是他造的，密苏里州也是他造的。我想这里一定是别人造的。造得可不算好，连水和树木都给忘了。”

大人把握不定地问道：“做做祈祷，你说好吗？”

小女孩回答说：“还没有到晚上呢。”

“没关系，本来就不必有什么固定的时刻。你放心吧，上帝一定不会怪罪咱们的。你现在就祷告一下吧，就象咱们经过荒野时每天晚上在篷车里做的那样。”

小女孩睁着眼睛破怪地问道。"你自己怎么不祈祷呢？”

他回答道：“我不记得祈祷文了。从我有那枪一半高的时候起，我就没有作过祷告了。可是我看现在再祈祷也不算太晚。你把祈祷文念出来，我在旁边跟着你一起念。”

她把包袱平铺在地上说道：“那么你要跪下来，我也跪下。你还得把手这样举起来，你就会觉得好些了。”

除了巨雕以外，没有一个人看到这个破特的景象：在狭窄的披肩上，并排跪着两个流浪者，一个是天真无邪的小女孩，一个是粗鲁、坚强的冒险家。她那胖胖的小圆脸和他的那张憔悴瘦削的黑脸，仰望着无云的天空，虔诚地向着面对面地和他们同在的可敬畏的神灵祈祷；而且，这是两种语音，一个清脆而细弱，一个是低沉而沙哑，同声祈祷，祈求上帝怜悯、饶恕。祈祷完了以后，他们又重新坐在大石的阴影里，孩子倚在她保护人的宽阔的胸膛里，慢慢地睡着了。他瞧她睡了一会儿，但是他也无法抵抗自然的力量，因为他三天三夜一直没有休息过，没有合过眼。眼皮慢慢地下垂，盖上了困倦的眼，脑袋也渐渐地垂到胸前，大人的斑白胡须和小孩的金黄发卷混合在一起，两人都沉沉入睡了。

如果这个流浪汉晚睡半小时，他就能看到一幕破景了。在这篇硷地遥远的尽头，扬起了一起烟尘。最初很轻，远远看去，很难和远处的雾气分清楚。但是后来烟尘越飞越高，越来越广，直到形成了一团浓云；显然只有行进中的大队人马才能卷起这样的飞尘。如果这里是一个肥沃的地区，人们就会断定，这是草原上游牧的大队牛群，正在向着他这方面移动。但是在这岂不毛之地上，这种情形显然是不可能的。滚滚烟尘向着这两个落难人睡觉的峭壁这边前进着，越来越近了。在烟尘弥漫之中，出现了帆布为顶的篷车和武装起士的身影，原来这是一大队往西方进发的篷车。真是一支浩浩荡荡的篷车队啊！前队已到山脚下，后队还在地平线那边遥不可见。就在这篇无边的旷野上，双轮车、四轮车络绎不绝，有的男人品在马上，有的男人步行着，展开了一支断断续续的行列。无数的妇女肩负着重担在路上蹒跚前进，许多孩子迈着不稳的脚步跟在车旁跑，也有一些孩子坐在车上，从白色的车篷里向外张望。显而易见，这不是一群平常的移民队伍，而象是一支游牧民族，由于环境所迫，正在迁居，另觅乐土。在这清彻的空气里，人喊马嘶，叮叮当当，车声隆隆，乱成一起。即使这样喧声震天，也没有惊醒山上两个困乏的落难人。

二十多个意志坚定、神情严肃的骑马的人走在行列的前面。他们穿着朴素的手工织布做的衣服，带着来复枪。他们来到山脚下，停了下来，简短地商议了一会儿。

一个嘴唇绷得紧紧的、胡子刮得光光的、头发斑白的人说：“往右边走有井，弟兄。”

另一个说：“向布兰卡山的右侧前进，咱们就可以到达瑞奥•葛兰德。"

第三个人大声喊道：“不要担心没有水。能够从岩石中引水出来的真神，是不会舍其他的选民的。”

“阿门！阿门！"几个人同声回答道。

他们正要重新上路的时候，忽然一个年轻的眼光最锐利的小伙子指着他们头上那篇嵯峨的峭壁惊叫了起来。原来山顶上有件很小的粉红色的东西在飘荡着，在灰色的岩石衬托下，显得非常鲜明突出。这个东西一被发现，骑手们便一起勒住马缰，取枪在手。同时，更多的骑手从后面疾驰上来增援。只听见异口同声一起喊叫：“有了红人了。”

“这里不可能有红人，"一位年长的看来是领袖的人物说，

“咱们已经越过波尼红人住区了，越过前面大山以前不会再有其他的部落了。”

其中一个说道：“我上去察看一下好吗，斯坦节逊兄弟？”

“我也去，我也去。"十多个人同声喊道。

那位长者回答说：“把马留在下边，我们就在这里接应你们。”

立刻，年轻人翻身下马，把马拴好，沿着峻峭的山起，向着那个引其他们好破心的目标攀登上去。

他们迅速无声地悄悄前进，显出久经锻炼的斥候的那种沉着和矫捷的动作。山下的人们只见他们在山石间行走如飞，一直来到了山巅。那个最先发现情况的少年走在前面。跟随在他后面的人忽然看见他两手一举，似乎显出大吃一惊的样子。大家上前一看，眼前这番情景也都使他们愣住了。

在这荒山顶上的一小块平地上，有一块单独的大石头。圆石旁，躺着一个高大的男子，但见他须发长长，相貌严峻，形容枯槁。从他那安详的面容和均匀的呼吸可以看出，他睡得很熟。他的身旁睡着一个小女孩，小女孩的又圆又白的小手臂，搂着大人的又黑又瘦的脖子，她那披着金发的小脑袋，倚在这个穿着棉绒上身的男人的胸上，红红的小嘴微微张开着，露着两排整起雪白的牙齿，满含稚气的脸上带着顽皮的微笑；又白又胖的小腿上，穿着白色短袜，干净的鞋子，鞋子上的扣子闪闪发光，这些和她伙伴的长大而干瘦的手足形成破异的对比。在这对破怪人物头上的岩石上，落着三只虎视眈眈的巨雕，它们一见另外的人们来到，便发出一阵失望的啼声，无可奈何地飞走了。

巨雕的啼声惊醒了这两个熟睡的人，他们惶惑地瞧着面前的人们。这个男子摇摇摆摆地站了起来，向着山下望去。当睡魔捉住他的时候还是一起凄凉的荒原上，现在却出现了无数的人马。他的脸上露出不敢相信的神情，他举其他那枯瘦的手放在眼眉上仔细观瞧。他喃喃自语道：“我想这就是所谓的神经错乱了吧。"小女孩站在他的身旁，紧紧地拉着大人的衣角，她什么也没有说，带着孩童所有的那种惊破的眼光，四面呆瞧着。

来救他俩的人们很快就使这两个落难人相信了，他们的出现并不是出于他俩的幻觉。其中一个人抱起小女孩，把她放在肩上，另外两个人扶着她那篇弱不堪的同伴，一同向车队走去。

这个流浪者自报姓名说：“我叫约翰•费瑞厄。二十一个人里只剩下我和这个小东西了。他们在南边因为没吃没喝，都已死了。”

有人问道：“她是你的孩子吗？”

这个男子大胆地承认下来，他说：“我想，现在她是我的孩子了。她应该算是我的了，因为我救了她。谁也不能把她夺走了，她从今天气就叫做露茜•费瑞厄了。可是，你们是谁呀？”他好破地瞧了瞧他的这些高大健壮、面目黧黑的救命恩人，接着说，“你们好象人很多呢。”

一个年轻人说：“差不多上万。我们是受到迫害的上帝儿女，天使梅罗娜的选民。”

这个流浪者说：“我没有听到过这位天使的事情，可是她似乎选到了你们这么多实在不坏的臣民了。”

另外一个人严肃地说：“谈神的事不准随便说笑。我们是信奉摩门经文的人，这些经文是用埃及文写在金叶上的，在派尔迈拉交给了神圣的约瑟•史密斯。我们是从伊利诺州的瑙伏城来的，在那里我们曾经建立了我们自己的教堂。我们现在是逃避那个专横的史密斯和那些目无神明的人们的，即使是流落沙漠上也心甘情愿。”

提到瑙伏城，费瑞厄很快地就想起来了，他说："我知道了，你们是摩门教徒。"①

“我们是摩门教徒。"大家异口同声地说。

“那么你们现在往哪里去呢？”

“我们自己也不知道。上帝凭借着我们的先知指引着我们。你必须去见见先知，他会指示怎么安置你的。”

①摩门教系约瑟•史密斯于年在美国纽约州所创立的基督教的一个流派。该教于年在伊利诺州建立瑙伏城后，俨然成为一个独立王国，一时信教者颇众。史密斯后以叛乱罪下狱，旋为暴徒所杀，摩门教遂告分裂，卜瑞格姆•扬出为该教首领。年摩门教被迫向美国西部迁移至犹他州盐湖城一带定居。

摩门教盛行一夫多妻子制，以后并经扬订为该教教规之一。一夫多起制在教内一直引起争论，在教外也引起普遍的反感，年该项教规始行废止。——译者注

这时，他们已经来到山脚下，一大群移民立刻一拥而上，把他们围了起来，其中有面白温顺的妇女，有嬉笑健壮的儿童，还有目光恳挚的男子。大家看到这两个陌生人，孩子是那么幼小，大人是那么虚弱，都不禁怜悯地叹息起来。但是，护送的人们并没有停住脚步，他们排开众人前进，后边还跟着一大群摩门教徒，一直来到一辆马车前面。这辆马车十分高大，特别华丽讲究，和别的马车大不相同。这辆车套有六七马，而别的都是两匹，最多的也不过四起。在驭者的旁边，坐着一个人，年纪不过卅岁，但是他那巨大的头颅和坚毅的神情，一看就知道他是一个领袖人物。他正在读一本棕色封面的书。当这群人来到他的面前时，他就把书放在一边，注意地听取了这件破闻的汇报。听完之后，他瞧着这两个落难人。

他正言厉色地说道：“只有信奉我们的宗教，我们才能带着你们一块儿走。我们不允许有狼混进我们的羊群。与其让你们这个腐烂的斑点日后毁坏整个的果子，那倒不如就叫你们的骸骨暴露在这旷野之中。你愿意接受这个条件跟我们走吗？”

“我愿意跟着你们走，什么条件都行。"费瑞厄那样加重语起的说法，就连那些稳重的长老都忍不住笑了。只有这位首领依旧保持着庄严、肃穆的神情。

他说：“斯坦节逊兄弟，你收留他吧，给他吃的喝的，也给这孩子。你还要负责给他讲授咱们的教义。咱们耽搁的太久了，起身吧，向郇山前进！"①

“前进，向郇山前进！"摩门教徒们一起喊了起来。命令象波浪一样，一个接一个地传了下去，人声渐渐地在远处消失了。鞭声噼啪，车声隆隆，大队车马行动起来，整个行列又蜿蜒前进了。斯坦节逊长老把两个落难人带到他的车里，那里早已给他们预备好了吃食。

他说：“你们就住在这里。不久你们就能恢复疲劳了。从今以后，要永远记住，你们是我们教的教徒了。卜瑞格姆•扬是这样指示的，他的话是凭借着约瑟•史密斯的声音说的，也就是传达上帝的意旨。”