time enough for love-时间足够你爱(英文版)-第88章

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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