杰瑞发布于2023-02-09
Bestselling winner of the 1986 Pulitzer Prize,Lonesome Dove is an American classic c. First publish ed in 1985, Larry McMurtry' epic novel combined flawless writing with a storyline and setting that gripped the popular imagination, and ultimately resulted in a series of four novels and an Emmy-winning television miniseries. 《孤鸽镇》是1986年普利策奖的畅销书得主,是一部美国经典小说。拉里·麦默特里(Larry McMurtry)的史诗小说于1985年首次出版,将完美的写作与吸引大众想象力的故事情节和背景相结合,最终创作了一系列四部小说和一部艾美奖电视迷你剧。
“You boys ought to go home and teach school,” he said. “It’s all you’re good for.”“What did you expect me to do?” Roy asked. “I can’t see in the dark.” Dan walked over and looked down at Frog Lip. He ignored his brothers. He knelt down and pulled the Negro’s bloodstained shirt loose from his pants, exposing the wound. After a second he stood up. “Would you like to shoot him, Jake?” little Eddie asked. “I’ve known him all my life.” “I wouldn’t care to,” Jake said. He remembered how insolent Frog Lip had been only the day before, and how he had wanted to shoot him then. It had been a rapid turnabout. The man lay on the ground, dying of a cruel wound, and none of the men he rode with even wanted to put him out of his misery. “I couldn’t track an elephant and neither could you,” Dan said. “Frog was our tracker. I shot Wilbarger three times, I expect he’ll die.” “I thought we was going to Abilene,” little Eddie said. “Abilene ain’t this way.” Dan sneered at his brother. “I wish Wilbarger had shot you instead of Frog,” he said. “Frog was a damn sight better hand.” Jake thought maybe he had seen the last of the killing. He felt it could be worse. The shooting had all been in pitch- darkness. Wilbarger hadn’t seen him. He couldn’t be connected with the raid. It was luck, of a sort. If he could just get free of the Suggses, he wouldn’t be in such hopeless trouble. As he rode along, trailing the twenty-five horses, he decided the best thing for him would be to leave the west. He could travel over to St. Louis and catch a boat down to New Orleans, or even go east to New York. Both of them were fine towns for gamblers, or so he had heard. In either one he could be safe and could pursue the kind of life he enjoyed. He resolved to bend his wits to getting out while the getting was possible. The death of Frog Lip made the task easier, for, as Dan said, Frog Lip was the only tracker in the crowd. If he could just manage to get a good jump, somehow, he might get away. And if he did he wouldn’t stop until he hit the Mississippi. With his mind made up, he felt cheerful—it always gave a man a lift to escape death. It was a beautiful sunny day and he was alive to see it. With any luck at all, he had seen the end of the trouble.His good mood lasted two hours, and then something occurred which turned it sour. It seemed as if the world was deserted except for them and the horses, and then to his surprise he saw a tent. It was staked under a single tree, directly ahead of them. Near the tent, two men were plowing with four mules. Dan Suggs was riding ahead of the horse herd, and Jake saw him lope off toward the settlers. He didn’t think much about it—he was watching the tent to see if any women were around. Then he heard the faint pop of a shot and looked up to see one of the settlers fall. The other man was standing there, no gun in his hand, nothing. He stood as if paralyzed, and in a second Dan Suggs shot him too. Then he trotted over to the tent, got off his horse and went inside. Jake hardly knew what to think. He had just seen two men shot in the space of seconds. He had no idea why. By the time he got near the tent Dan Suggs had drug a little trunk outside and was rifling it. He pitched the clothes which were in the trunk out on the grass. His brothers rode over to join the fun, and were soon holding up various garments, to see if they fit. Jake rode over too, feeling nervous. Dan Suggs was clearly in a killing mood. Both farmers lay dead on the grass near their mule team, which was quietly grazing. Both had bullet holes in their foreheads. Dan had shot them at point-blank range. “Well, they didn’t have much but a watch,” Dan said, holding up a fine-looking silver pocket watch. “I guess I’ll take the watch.” His brothers found nothing of comparable value, although they searched the tent thoroughly. While they were looking, Dan started a fire with some coal oil he had found and made some coffee. “Dan, you beat all,” he said. “I never heard of hanging dead men.” Nonetheless Dan meant it. He put ropes around both the dead men’s necks and had his brothers drag them to the tree and hoist them up. It was not a large tree, and the dead men’s feet were only a few inches off the ground. Jake was not called on to help, and he didn’t.