Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

Clara walked out to try once more. Dish and July were shaking hands with Call, but they beat an immediate retreat when they saw her coming.

克拉拉走出去再试一次。Dish和July正在与Call握手，但当他们看到她来的时候，他们立即撤退了。

“I put it to you once more, in the plainest terms, Mr. Call,” Clara said. “A live son is more important than a dead friend.

克拉拉说：“我再简单地告诉你一次，Call先生。”。“活着的儿子比死去的朋友更重要。

Can you understand that?” “A promise is a promise,” Call said.

你能理解吗？”“承诺就是承诺，”Call说。

“A promise is words—a son is a life,” Clara said. “A life, Mr. Call. I was better fit to raise boys than you’ve ever been, and yet I lost three. I tell you no promise is worth leaving that boy up there, as you have. Does he know he’s your son?” “I suppose he does—I give him my horse,” Call said, feeling that it was hell to have her, of all women, talk to him about the matter.

克拉拉说：“承诺就是言语，儿子就是生命。”。“一种生活，Call先生。我比你更适合抚养男孩，但我失去了三个。我告诉你，没有任何承诺值得像你这样把那个男孩留在那里。他知道他是你的儿子吗？”“我想他知道——我把马给了他，”Call说，觉得在所有女人中，让她和他谈论这件事是地狱。

“Your horse but not your name?” Clara said. “You haven’t even given him your name?” “I put more value on the horse,” Call said, turning the dun. He rode off, but Clara, terrible in her anger, strode beside him.

“你的马，但不是你的名字？”克拉拉说。“你甚至还没告诉他你的名字？”“我更看重这匹马，”Call转过身来说。他骑马走了，但克拉拉气得要命，大步走到他身边。

“I’ll write him,” she said. “I’ll see he gets your name if I have to carry the letter to Montana myself. And I’ll tell you another thing: I’m sorry you and Gus McCrae ever met. All you two done was ruin one another, not to mention those close to you. Another reason I didn’t marry him was because I didn’t want to fight you for him every day of my life. You men and your promises: they’re just excuses to do what you plan to do anyway, which is leave. You think you’ve always done right—that’s your ugly pride, Mr. Call. But you never did right and it would be a sad woman that needed anything from you. You’re a vain coward, for all your fighting. I despised you then, for what you were, and I despise you now, for what you’re doing.” Clara could not check her bitterness—even now, she knew, the man thought he was doing the right thing. She strode beside the horse, pouring out her contempt, until Call put the mule and the dun into a trot, the buggy, with the coffin on it, squeaking as it bounced over the rough plain.SO CAPTAIN CALL TURNED back down the rivers, cut by the quirt of Clara’s contempt and seared with the burn of his own regret. For a week, down from the Platte and across the Republican, he could not forget what she said: that he had never done right, that he and Gus had ruined one another, that he was a coward, that she would take a letter to the boy. He had gone through life feeling that he had known what should be done, and now a woman flung it at him that he hadn’t.

“我会给他写信的，”她说。“如果我必须亲自把这封信带到蒙大拿州，我会看到他得到你的名字。我还要告诉你另一件事：我很抱歉你和格斯·麦克雷见过面。你们俩所做的只是互相毁灭，更不用说那些亲近的人了。我没有嫁给他的另一个原因是，我不想在我生命中的每一天都为他和你战斗。你们这些男人和你们的承诺：不管怎样，它们只是做你计划做的事情的借口，那就是离开。你认为你一直做得对——这是你丑陋的骄傲，Call先生。但你从来没有做过对的事，一个需要你做任何事情的悲伤女人。你是一个徒劳的懦夫，尽管你战斗了这么久。那时我鄙视你，因为你是什么样的人，现在我也鄙视你，也因为你在做什么。”克拉拉无法控制自己的痛苦——即使现在，她知道，那个男人认为他做的是对的。她大步走在马旁边，倾诉着她的蔑视，直到Call把骡子和驴子放进小跑中，马车上的棺材在崎岖的平原上颠簸时吱吱作响。于是，船长CALL转身顺流而下，被克拉拉的轻蔑所打断，又被自己的悔恨所灼烧。一个星期以来，从普拉特到整个共和党人，他都忘不了她说的话：他从来没有做过正确的事，他和格斯互相毁了对方，他是个懦夫，她会给那个男孩写信。他一生都觉得自己知道该做什么，现在一个女人向他扔来，说他没有。

He found that he could not easily forget a word Clara said. He could only trail the buggy down the lonely plains, her words stinging in his heart and head.

他发现自己很难忘记克拉拉说的一句话。他只能拖着马车走在孤独的平原上，她的话刺痛了他的心和头脑。

Before he reached Kansas, word had filtered ahead of him that a man was carrying a body home to Texas. The plain was filled with herds, for it was full summer. Cowboys spread the word, soldiers spread it. Several times he met trappers, coming east from the Rockies, or buffalo hunters who were finding no buffalo. The Indians heard—Pawnee and Arapahoe and Ogallala Sioux. Sometimes he would ride past parties of braves, their horses fat on spring grass, come to watch his journey. Some were curious enough to approach him, even to question him. Why did he not bury the compañero? Was he a holy man whose spirit must have a special place?

No, Call answered. Not a holy man. Beyond that he couldn’t explain. He had come to feel that Augustus had probably been out of his mind at the end, though he hadn’t looked it, and that he had been out of his mind to make the promise he had.

In one week in Kansas he ran into eight cattle herds—he would no sooner pass one than he encountered another. The only advantage to him was that the trail bosses were generous with wire and pliers. The Miles City buggy had been patched so many times that it was mostly wire by then, Call felt. He knew it would never make Texas, but he determined to keep going as long as he could—what he would do when it finally fell apart he didn’t know.

在堪萨斯州的一周里，他遇到了八个牛群——他一经过一个，就遇到了另一个。对他来说，唯一的优势是步道老板们慷慨地用铁丝和钳子。Call感觉到，Miles City越野车已经打了很多次补丁，当时大部分都是电线。他知道它永远不会让得克萨斯州，但他决心尽可能长时间地继续前进——当它最终崩溃时，他会怎么做，他不知道。

Finally he was asked about Augustus and the purpose of his journey so many times that he couldn’t tolerate it. He turned west into Colorado, meaning to skirt the main cattle trails. He was tired of meeting people. His only moments of peace came late in the day when he was too tired to think and was just bouncing along with Gus.

最后，他被问到奥古斯都和他的旅行目的很多次，以至于他无法忍受。他转向西部进入科罗拉多州，打算绕过主要的牛道。他厌倦了与人交往。他唯一的平静时刻是在一天的晚些时候，他太累了，无法思考，只是和格斯一起蹦蹦跳跳。

He rode through Denver, remembering that he had never sent Wilbarger’s brother the telegram he had promised, notifying him of Wilbarger’s death. It had been a year and he felt he owed Wilbarger that consideration, though he soon regretted coming into the town, a noisy place filled with miners and cattlemen. The sight of the buggy with the coffin excited such general curiosity that by the time he was out of the telegraph office a crowd had gathered. Call had scarcely walked out the door when an undertaker in a black hat and a blue bow tie approached him.

他骑马穿过丹佛，想起他从未给威尔伯格的兄弟发过他承诺的电报，通知他威尔伯格的死讯。一年过去了，他觉得自己欠威尔伯格一份人情，尽管他很快就后悔来到这个满是矿工和牧民的喧闹之地。看到那辆装有棺材的马车，人们普遍感到好奇，以至于当他走出电报局时，已经聚集了一群人。Call刚出门，一位戴着黑色帽子、打着蓝色领结的殡仪员就向他走来。

“Mister, you ain’t nowhere near the graveyard,” the man said. He had even waxed his mustache and was altogether too shiny for Call’s taste.

“先生，你离墓地不远，”那人说。他甚至给胡子上蜡，胡子太亮了，不符合Call的口味。

“I wasn’t looking for it,” Call said, mounting. People were touching the coffin as if they had the right.

“我不是在找它，”Call说。人们正在触摸棺材，好像他们有权利一样。

“We give a nice ten-dollar funeral,” the undertaker said. “You could just leave the fellow with me and come pick out the gravestone at your leisure. Of course the gravestone’s extra.” “Not in the market,” Call said.

“我们举办了一场十美元的葬礼，”殡仪馆老板说。“你可以把那家伙留给我，有空就来挑墓碑。当然，墓碑是多余的。”“不在市场上，”Call说。

“Who is it, mister?” a boy asked.

“先生，是谁？”一个男孩问。

“His name was McCrae,” Call said.

“他的名字叫麦克雷，”Call说。

He was glad to put the town behind him, and thereafter took to driving at night to avoid people, though it was harder on the buggy, for he couldn’t always see the bumps.

他很高兴把小镇抛在身后，然后开始在晚上开车避开人群，尽管在马车上更难，因为他并不总是能看到颠簸。

One night he felt the country was too rough for evening travel so he camped by the Purgatoire River, or Picketwire, as the cowboys called it. He heard the sound of an approaching horse and wearily picked up his rifle. It was only one horse. Dusk had not quite settled into night, and he could see the rider coming—a big man. The horse turned out to be a red mule and the big man Charles Goodnight. Call had known the famous cattleman since the Fifties, and they had ridden together a few times in the Frontier Regiment, before he and Gus were sent to the border. Call had never taken to the man—Goodnight was indifferent to authority, or at least unlikely to put any above his own—but he could not deny that the man had uncommon ability. Goodnight rode up to the campfire but did not dismount.

“I like to keep up with who’s traveling the country,” he said. “I admit I did not expect it to be you.” “You’re welcome to coffee,” Call said.

他说：“我喜欢了解谁在全国旅行。”。“我承认我没想到会是你。”“欢迎你来喝咖啡，”Call说。

“I don’t take much else at night,” he added.

“我晚上不吃太多其他东西，”他补充道。

“Hell, if I didn’t take some grub in at night I’d starve,” Goodnight said. “Usually too busy to eat breakfast.” “You’re welcome to get down then,” Call said.

“见鬼，如果我晚上不吃点东西，我会饿死的，”晚安说。“通常太忙了，没时间吃早餐。”“那么欢迎你下来，”Call说。

“No, I’m too busy to do that either,” Goodnight said. “I’ve got interests in Pueblo. Besides, I was never a man to sit around and gossip.“I reckon that’s McCrae,” he said, glancing at the coffin on the buggy.

“不，我也太忙了，”晚安说。“我对普韦布洛很感兴趣。此外，我从来不是一个闲坐闲聊的人。”“我想那是麦克里，”他瞥了一眼马车上的棺材说。

“That’s him,” Call said, dreading the questions that seemed to be inevitable.

“就是他，”Call说，害怕那些似乎不可避免的问题。

“I owe him a debt for cleaning out that mangy bunch on the Canadian,” Goodnight said. “I’d have soon had to do it myself, if he hadn’t.” “Well, he’s past collecting debts,” Call said. “Anyway he let that dern killer get away.” “No shame to McCrae,” Goodnight said. “I let the son of a bitch get away myself, and more than once, but a luckier man caught him. He butchered two families in the Bosque Redondo, and as he was leaving a deputy sheriff made a lucky shot and crippled his horse They ran him down and mean to hang him in Santa Rosa next week. If you spur up you can see it.” “Well, I swear,” Call said. “You going?” “No,” Goodnight said. “I don’t attend hangings, although I’ve presided over some, of the homegrown sort. This is the longest conversation I’ve had in ten years. Goodbye.” Call took the buggy over Raton Pass and edged down into the great New Mexican plain. Though he had seen nothing but plains for a year, he was still struck by the immense reach of land that lay before him. To the north, there was still snow on the peaks of the Sangre de Cristo. He hurried to Santa Rosa, risking further damage to the wagon, only to discover that the hanging had been put back a week.

“我欠他一笔债，因为他清理了加拿大人身上那堆肮脏的东西，”晚安说。“如果他没有的话，我很快就得自己做了。”“好吧，他已经不再收债了，”Call说。“不管怎样，他让那个现代杀手逃走了。”“麦克雷不丢脸，”晚安说。“我自己让这个狗娘养的逃脱了，不止一次，但一个更幸运的人抓住了他。他在博斯克雷东多屠杀了两个家庭，在他离开时，一名副警长幸运地开枪打伤了他的马。他们把他撞倒了，打算下周在圣罗莎绞死他。如果你振作起来，你就能看到。”“好吧，我发誓，”Call说。“你要去吗？”“不，”晚安说。“我不参加绞刑，尽管我主持过一些本土的绞刑。这是我十年来最长的一次谈话。再见。”Call驾驶着马车越过拉顿山口，缓缓驶入新墨西哥州的大平原。虽然他一年来只看到了平原，但他仍然被面前广阔的土地所震撼。北面，基督山的山峰上还下着雪。他匆忙赶到圣罗莎，冒着马车进一步损坏的风险，却发现绞刑已经放回一周了。