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time enough for love-时间足够你爱(英文版)-第88部分

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t。 …
  
  Patience I have learned。 The centuries may not give a man wisdom; but h? acquires patience or he doesn't live through them~ That first morning we found the first spot that was too tight。 Oh; someone had blasted there and probably got around that turn。 But it was too narrow to be safe; so I blasted some more。 Nobody in his right mind takes a wagon into the mountains without dynamite or some such; you can't nibble at solid rock with a toothpick; or even a pickax; without riskmg being still up there when the snows e。
  
  I was not using dynamite。 Oh; anyone with a modicum of
  
  chemistry cati make both dynamite ;and black powder; and planned to do both…later。 What I had with me was a mon
  
  eflicient and more flexible blasting jelly…and not shock…sensitive; perfectly safe in wagon and saddlebag。
  
  I placed that first charge in a crack where I thought ii would do the most good; set the fuse but did not light it then walked both mules back around the bend and exertec rhy histrionic talent to its limit to explain to Buck and BeulaF~ that there was going … to be a loud noise; a ban g!…but ii could not hurt them; so don't worry。 Then I went back; lii the fuse; hurried back to them and was in time to have as ~rm on each neck…watched my watch。 〃Now!〃 I said; and the mountain obliged me with Ka…boom!
  
  Beulah shivered but was steady。 Buck said inquiringly; 〃Paaang?〃
  
  I agreed。 He nodded and went back to cropping leaves。
  
  We three went up and took a look。 Nice and wide now… Not very level; but three tiny blasts took care of that。 〃What do you think; Buck?〃 …
  
  He looked carefully up and down trail。 〃Doo wagon?〃
  
  第41节
  
  〃One wagon。〃
  
  〃Ogay。〃
  
  We explored a little farther; planned the next day's work~ then I turned back at the time promised; was home early。
  
  It took me a week to make a couple of kilometers safe to another little alp; a grassy pocket big enough to turn one wagon around at a time。 Then it took all of a long day to move our wagons; one at a time; to this next base。 Someone had made it that far; I found a broken wagon wheel…salvaged the steel tire and the hub。 It went on that way; day after day; slowly; tediously; and at last we were through the notch and headed…mostly……downhill。
  
  But that was worse; not better。 The river I had been sure was there; by photomaps from space; was far below us; and we still had to go down; down; down; and follow it a long way before we would reach the place where the gorge opened out into valley suitable for homesteading。 More blasting; lots of brush chopping; and sometimes I had to blast trees。。 But the nastiest ' part was rappelling those wagons down the steepest places。 I didn't mind steep places going uphill (which we still encountered); a twelve…mule team can drag a single wagon up any slope they can dig their hooves into。 But downhill…
  
  Certainly those wagons had brakes。 But if the… grade is steep; the wagon slides on its tires…then goes over the edge; mules and all。 …
  
  I couldn't let that happen even once。 Not ever risk letting it happen。 We could lose one wagon and six mules and still go on。 But 1 was not expendable。 (Dora would not be in the wagon。) If that wagon cut loose; my chances of jumping clear would be so…so。 …
  
  If the grade was steep enough to give me even a trace of doubt that I could hold a wagon with its brakes;… we did it the hard way: ;used that expensive imported line to check it down such pitches。 Lead the line out fair and free for running; pass the bitter end three times around a tree stout enough to anchor it; secure。 it to the rear axle…then our four steadiest mules; Ken and Daisy; Beau and Belle;… would take the wagcn down at a slow walk (no driver) following Buck; while I kept tension on the line; paying it out very slowly。
  
  … If terrain permitted; Dora on Betty would take station halfway down to relay orders to Buck。 But I c。uld not permit her to be on the trail itself; if that line parted; t would whip。 So maybe half the time Buck and I worked without liaison; doing it dead slow ard depending on his judgment。
  
  If there was not a sound anchor tree properly posi~ ioned
  
  …and it seems to me that this happened more often than not…then we had to wait while I worked something out。 This cOuld be anything: a sling between two trees; then rig a fairlead to a third tree… A bare…rock anchor using driven pitons
  
  …I hated these as I had to do my checking right at the rear axle; walking behind; and God help us all if I stumbled。 Then that was always followed by the time…consuming chore of salvaging those pitons…the harder the rock; the better the anchor; but the tougher the job of getting them out…and I had to get them out; I would need them farther along。
  
  Sometimes no trees and … no rock… Once the anchor was twelve mules faced back along the trail; with Dora soothing them while I checked at a rear axle and Bu~k controlled the progress。
  
  On the prairie we often made thirty kilometers a day。 Once we were through Hopeless Pass and had started down the gorge the distance made good over the ground could be zero for days on end while I prepared the trail ahead; then up to as high as ten kilometers if there were no steep pitches that required rappelling down by line。 I used just one unbreakable
  
  rule: The trail bad to be fully prepared ~from one turnaround base to the next before a wagon was moved。
  
  Minerva; it was so confounded slow that my 〃calendar〃 caught up with me; the sow littered…and we were not out of the mountains。 …
  
  I don't recall ever making a harder decision。 Dora was in good shape; but she was halfway through her pregnancy~ Turn back (as I had promised myself; without teffing her)… or push on and hope to reach lower and fairly level ground' before she came to term? Which would be easier on…her?
  
  I had to consult her…but I had to decide。 Responsibility cannot be shared。 I knew how she would vote before I took the matter up with her: Push on。
  
  But that would be simply her gallant courage; I was the one with experience both in wilderness trekking and in childbirth problems。
  
  I studied those photomaps again without learning anything new。 Somewhere ahead the gorge opened out into a broad river valley…but how far? I didn't know because I didn't know where we were。 We had started with an odometer on the right rear wheel of the lead wagon; I had reset it to zero at the pass…and it had lasted only a day or two; a rock or something did it in。 I didn't even know how much altitude we had managed to drop since the pass; or how much more we must lose to get down。
  
  Livestock 。and equipment: fair。 We had lost two mules。 Pretty Girl had wandered over the edge one night and broken a leg; all I could do for her was to put her out of her misery。 I didn't butcher her … because we had fresh meat and I could not do it where the other mules could not see it; anyhow。 John Barleycorn had simply upped and died one night…orpossibly lost to a loper; he was partly eaten when we found him。 …
  
  Three hens were dead and two piglets failed to make it; but the sow seemed willing to suckle the others。
  
  I had only two spare wheels left。 Lose two more and the next broken wheel meant abandoning one wagon。
  
  It was the wheels that made up my mind。
  
  (Omitted: approximately 7;000 words which reiterate difilculties in getting down the gorge。)
  
  When we came out on that plateau; we could see the valley
  
  stretching out before us。…
  
  A beautiful valley; Miner…va; wide and green and lovely… thousands and thousands of hectares of ideal farmland。 The river from the gorge; tame now; meandered lazily between low banks。 Facing us; a long; long way off; was a high peak crowned with snow。 Its snow line let me guess how high it was…around six thousand meters; for we had now dropped down into subtropics; and only a very high mountain could keep so much snow through a long and very hot summer。
  
  That beautiful mountain; that lush green valley; gave me…a feeli
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