第 61 节
作者:风雅颂      更新:2021-10-16 18:44      字数:9321
  slaying and in meat…getting; and so; promised food and protection to
  her in her weakness whilst she mothered the seed that was to hunt
  the meat and live after her。
  And these people knew not the wisdom of my people; in that they
  snared and pitted their meat and in battle used clubs and stone
  throwing…sticks and were unaware of the virtues of arrows swift…
  flying; notched on the end to fit the thong of deer…sinew; well…
  twisted; that sprang into straightness when released to the spring
  of the ask…stick bent in the middle。
  And while I sang; the stranger men laughed in the twilight。  And
  only she; Igar; believed and had faith in me。  I took her alone to
  the hunting; where the deer sought the water…hole。  And my bow
  twanged and sang in the covert; and the deer fell fast…stricken; and
  the warm meat was sweet to us; and she was mine there by the water…
  hole。
  And because of Igar I remained with the strange men。  And I taught
  them the making of bows from the red and sweet…smelling wood like
  unto cedar。  And I taught them to keep both eyes open; and to aim
  with the left eye; and to make blunt shafts for small game; and
  pronged shafts of bone for the fish in the clear water; and to flake
  arrow…heads from obsidian for the deer and the wild horse; the elk
  and old Sabre…Tooth。  But the flaking of stone they laughed at; till
  I shot an elk through and through; the flaked stone standing out and
  beyond; the feathered shaft sunk in its vitals; the whole tribe
  applauding。
  I was Ushu; the archer; and Igar was my woman and mate。  We laughed
  under the sun in the morning; when our man…child and woman…child;
  yellowed like honey…bees; sprawled and rolled in the mustard; and at
  night she lay close in my arms; and loved me; and urged me; because
  of my skill at the seasoning of woods and the flaking of arrow…
  heads; that I should stay close by the camp and let the other men
  bring to me the meat from the perils of hunting。  And I listened;
  and grew fat and short…breathed; and in the long nights; unsleeping;
  worried that the men of the stranger tribe brought me meat for my
  wisdom and honour; but laughed at my fatness and undesire for the
  hunting and fighting。
  And in my old age; when our sons were man…grown and our daughters
  were mothers; when up from the southland the dark men; flat…browed;
  kinky…headed; surged like waves of the sea upon us and we fled back
  before them to the hill…slopes; Igar; like my mates far before and
  long after; leg…twining; arm…clasping; unseeing far visions; strove
  to hold me aloof from the battle。
  And I tore myself from her; fat and short…breathed; while she wept
  that no longer I loved her; and I went out to the night…fighting and
  dawn…fighting; where; to the singing of bowstrings and the shrilling
  of arrows; feathered; sharp…pointed; we showed them; the kinky…
  heads; the skill of the killing and taught them the wit and the
  willing of slaughter。
  And as I died them at the end of the fighting; there were death
  songs and singing about me; and the songs seemed to sing as these
  the words I have written when I was Ushu; the archer; and Igar; my
  mate…woman; leg…twining; arm…clasping; would have held me back from
  the battle。
  Once; and heaven alone knows when; save that it was in the long ago
  when man was young; we lived beside great swamps; where the hills
  drew down close to the wide; sluggish river; and where our women
  gathered berries and roots; and there were herds of deer; of wild
  horses; of antelope; and of elk; that we men slew with arrows or
  trapped in the pits or hill…pockets。  From the river we caught fish
  in nets twisted by the women of the bark of young trees。
  I was a man; eager and curious as the antelope when we lured it by
  waving grass clumps where we lay hidden in the thick of the grass。
  The wild rice grew in the swamp; rising sheer from the water on the
  edges of the channels。  Each morning the blackbirds awoke us with
  their chatter as they left their roosts to fly to the swamp。  And
  through the long twilight the air was filled with their noise as
  they went back to their roosts。  It was the time that the rice
  ripened。  And there were ducks also; and ducks and blackbirds
  feasted to fatness on the ripe rice half unhusked by the sun。
  Being a man; ever restless; ever questing; wondering always what lay
  beyond the hills and beyond the swamps and in the mud at the river's
  bottom; I watched the wild ducks and blackbirds and pondered till my
  pondering gave me vision and I saw。  And this is what I saw; the
  reasoning of it:
  Meat was good to eat。  In the end; tracing it back; or at the first;
  rather; all meat came from grass。  The meat of the duck and of the
  blackbird came from the seed of the swamp rice。  To kill a duck with
  an arrow scarce paid for the labour of stalking and the long hours
  in hiding。  The blackbirds were too small for arrow…killing save by
  the boys who were learning and preparing for the taking of larger
  game。  And yet; in rice season; blackbirds and ducks were
  succulently fat。  Their fatness came from the rice。  Why should I
  and mine not be fat from the rice in the same way?
  And I thought it out in camp; silent; morose; while the children
  squabbled about me unnoticed; and while Arunga; my mate…woman;
  vainly scolded me and urged me to go hunting for more meat for the
  many of us。
  Arunga was the woman I had stolen from the hill…tribes。  She and I
  had been a dozen moons in learning common speech after I captured
  her。  Ah; that day when I leaped upon her; down from the over…
  hanging tree…branch as she padded the runway!  Fairly upon her
  shoulders with the weight of my body I smote her; my fingers wide…
  spreading to clutch her。  She squalled like a cat there in the
  runway。  She fought me and bit me。  The nails of her hands were like
  the claws of a tree…cat as they tore at me。  But I held her and
  mastered her; and for two days beat her and forced her to travel
  with me down out of the canyons of the Hill…Men to the grass lands
  where the river flowed through the rice…swamps and the ducks and the
  blackbirds fed fat。
  I saw my vision when the rice was ripe。  I put Arunga in the bow of
  the fire…hollowed log that was most rudely a canoe。  I bade her
  paddle。  In the stern I spread a deerskin she had tanned。  With two
  stout sticks I bent the stalks over the deerskin and threshed out
  the grain that else the blackbirds would have eaten。  And when I had
  worked out the way of it; I gave the two stout sticks to Arunga; and
  sat in the bow paddling and directing。
  In the past we had eaten the raw rice in passing and not been
  pleased with it。  But now we parched it over our fire so that the
  grains puffed and exploded in whiteness and all the tribe came
  running to taste。
  After that we became known among men as the Rice…Eaters and as the
  Sons of the Rice。  And long; long after; when we were driven by the
  Sons of the River from the swamps into the uplands; we took the seed
  of the rice with us and planted it。  We learned to select the
  largest grains for the seed; so that all the rice we thereafter ate
  was larger…grained and puffier in the parching and the boiling。
  But Arunga。  I have said she squalled and scratched like a cat when
  I stole her。  Yet I remember the time when her own kin of the Hill…
  Men caught me and carried me away into the hills。  They were her
  father; his brother; and her two own blood…brothers。  But she was
  mine; who had lived with me。  And at night; where I lay bound like a
  wild pig for the slaying; and they slept weary by the fire; she
  crept upon them and brained them with the war…club that with my
  hands I had fashioned。  And she wept over me; and loosed me; and
  fled with me; back to the wide sluggish river where the blackbirds
  and wild ducks fed in the rice swampsfor this was before the time
  of the coming of the Sons of the River。
  For she was Arunga; the one woman; the eternal woman。  She has lived
  in all times and places。  She will always live。  She is immortal。
  Once; in a far land; her name was Ruth。  Also has her name been
  Iseult; and Helen; Pocahontas; and Unga。  And no stranger man; from
  stranger tribes; but has found her and will find her in the tribes
  of all the earth。
  I remember so many women who have gone into the becoming of the one
  woman。  There was the time that Har; my brother; and I; sleeping and
  pursuing in turn; ever hounding the wild stallion through the
  daytime and night; and in a wide circle that met where the sleeping
  one lay; drove the stallion unresting through hunger and thirst to
  the meekness of weakness; so that in the end he could but stand and
  tremble while we bound him with ropes twisted of deer…hide。  On our
  legs alone; without hardship; aided merely by witthe plan was
  minemy brother and I walked that fleet…footed creature into
  possession。
  And when all was ready for me to get on his backfor that had been