【断背山】02

搜索关注在线英语听力室公众号：tingroom，领取免费英语资料大礼包。

 He didn’t ask if Ennis had a watch but tooka cheap round ticker on a braided cord from a box on a high shelf, wound and set it, tossed it to him as if he weren’t worth the reach. 

    “TOMORROWMORNIN we’ll truck you up the jump-off.” Pair of deuces going nowhere.They found a bar and drank beer through the afternoon, Jack¹ telling Ennisabout a lightning storm on the mountain the year before that killed forty-two sheep, the peculiar² stink³ of them and the way they bloated, the need for plenty of whiskey up there. He had shot an eagle, he said, turned his head to show the tail feather in his hatband. At first glance Jack seemed fair enough with his curly hair and quick laugh, but for a small man he carried some weight in the haunch and his smile disclosed buckteeth, not pronounced enough to let him eat popcorn⁴ out of the neck of a jug⁵, but noticeable. He was infatuated with the rodeo life and fastened his belt with a minor⁶ bull-riding buckle⁷, but his boots were worn to the quick, holed beyond repair and he was crazy to be somewhere, anywhere else than Lightning Flat.

    Ennis, high-arched nose and narrow face, was scruffy⁸ and a little cavechested, balanced a small torso on long, caliper legs, possessed⁹ a muscularand supple¹⁰ body made for the horse and for fighting. His reflexes were uncommonly¹¹ quick and he was farsighted enough to dislike reading anything except Hamley’s saddle catalog. The sheep trucks and horse trailers unloaded at the trailhead and a bandylegged Basque showed Ennis how to pack the mules¹², two packs and a riding load on each animal ring-lashed with double diamonds and secured with half  hitches, telling him, “Don’t never order soup. Them boxes a soup are realbad to pack.” 

    Three puppies belonging to one of the blue heelers went in a pack basket, the runt inside Jack’s coat, for he loved a little dog. Ennis pickedout a big chestnut¹³ called Cigar Butt¹⁴ to ride, Jack a bay mare¹⁵ who turned out to have a low startle point. 

    （The string of spare horses included a mouse-colored grullo whose looks Ennis liked. ）Ennis and Jack, the dogs, horses and mules, a thousand ewes and their lambs flowed up the trail like dirty water through the timber and out above the tree line into the great flowery Meadows and the coursing, endless wind. They got the big tent up on the Forest Service’s platform, the kitchen and grub boxes secured. Both slept in camp that first night, Jack already bitching about Joe Aguirre’s sleep-with-the-sheep-and-no-fire order, though he saddled the bay mare in the dark morning without saying much. Dawn came glassy orange, stained from below by a gelatinous band of pale green. The sooty bulk of the mountain paled slowly until it was the same color as the smoke from Ennis’s breakfast fire. The cold air sweetened, banded pebbles¹⁶ and crumbs¹⁷ of soil cast sudden pencil-long shadows and the rearing lodgepole pines below them massed in slabs¹⁸ of somber¹⁹ malachite. During the day Ennis looked across a great gulf²⁰ and sometimes saw Jack, a small dot moving across a high meadow as an insect moves across a tablecloth; 

    Jack, in his dark camp, saw Ennis as night fire, a red spark on the huge black mass of mountain. Jack came lagging in late one afternoon, drank his two bottles of beer cooled in a wet sack on the shady side of the tent, ate two bowls of stew²¹, four of Ennis’s stone biscuits, a can of peaches, rolled a smoke, watched the sundrop.

    “I’m commutin four hours a day,” he said morosely²². “Come in for breakfast, go back to the sheep, evenin get em bedded down, come in for supper, go backto the sheep, spend half the night jumpin up and checkin for coyotes. By rights I should be spendin the night here. Aguirre got no right a make me do this.”

    “You want a switch?” said Ennis. “I wouldn’t mind herdin. I wouldn’t mind sleepin out there.”

    “That ain’t the point. Point is, we both should be in this camp. And that goddamn pup tent smells like cat piss or worse.”“Wouldn’t mind bein out there.”

    “Tell you what, you got a get up a dozen times in the night out there over them coyotes. Happy to switch but give you warnin I can’t cook worth a shit. Pretty good with a can opener.”

    “Can’t be no worse than me, then. Sure, I wouldn’t mind a do it.”

分享到：