It was a crisp and spicy morning in early October.
这是十月上旬一个清新宜人的早晨。
No real gentleman will tell the naked truth in the presence of ladies
只要有女士在场，真正的绅士绝口不谈事情的真相。
The lilacs and laburnums, lit with the glory-fires of autumn, hung burning and flashing in the upper air, a fairy bridge provided by kind Nature for the wingless wild things that have their homes in the tree-tops and would visit together; the larch and the pomegranate flung their purple and yellow flames in brilliant broad splashes along the slanting sweep of the woodland; the sensuous fragrance of innumerable deciduous flowers rose upon the swooning atmosphere; far in the empty sky a solitary esophagus slept upon motionless wing; everywhere brooded stillness, serenity, and the peace of God.
丁香花和金链花沐浴著秋日的艳阳，灼灼其华，在半空中显露出它们鲜丽夺目的容颜，这是慷慨的大自然为那些没有翅膀的野生生灵架起的一座仙桥。这些生灵在树梢结巢，常在那里聚首。顺著一望无际、布满秦莽的斜坡，落叶松和石榴树像燃烧著的紫色和蓝色的烈焰；落英缤纷，升腾起醉人的芳香，让人目眩神迷。在虚空深处，一根孤寂的食管1安睡在静止的一侧；主宰四野的是沉寂、宁静与和平之神。
October is the time;1900; Hope Canyon is the place, a silver-mining camp away down in the Esmeralda region. It is a secluded spot, high and remote; recent as to discovery; thought by its occupants to be rich in metal; a year or twos prospecting will decide that matter one way or the other. For inhabitants, the camp has about two hundred miners, one white woman and child, several Chinese washermen, five squaws, and a dozen vagrant buck Indians in rabbit-skin robes, battered plug hats, and tin-can necklaces. There are no mills as yet; no church, no newspaper. The camp has existed but two years; it has made no big strike; the world is ignorant of its name and place.
时间是1900年，地点是希望谷一个远离埃斯梅拉达地区的银矿屯子。这是个偏僻的去处，山高水远，开发的时间不长；居住在这里的人都把它看做开矿发财的地方——这财到底发得成还是发不成，只消一年到两年便可见分晓。说到居民，这屯子里有大约二百个矿工，一个白人女子和她的孩子，几个开洗衣房的华人，五个印地安女人，十来个漂泊四方的印地安男人，他们穿着兔子皮袍子，旧皮帽子和罐头盒做的项圈。这里没有磨坊，没有教堂，也看不到报纸。两年前才有了这屯子；迄今这里还没有过什么重大发现，外界对这里的地名和地点一无所知。
Flint Buckner’s cabin was the last one of the village, going south; his silver claim was at the other end of the village, northward, and a little beyond the last hut in that direction. He was a sour creature, unsociable, and had no companionships. People who had tried to get acquainted with him had regretted it and dropped him. His history was not known. Some believed that Sammy Hillyer knew it; others said no. If asked, Hillyer said no, he was not acquainted with it. Flint had a meek English youth of sixteen or seventeen with him, whom he treated roughly, both in public and in private; and of course this lad was applied to for information, but with no success. Fetlock Jones; name of the youth; said that Flint picked him up on a prospecting tramp, and as he had neither home nor friends in America, he had found it wise to stay and take Buckner’s hard usage for the sake of the salary, which was bacon and beans. Further than this he could offer no testimony.
弗林特·布克纳的小木屋是屯子南头的最后一幢；他采矿的地盘却在北面，在屯子的另一头，比屯子北头的最后一幢木屋还远一点儿。他脾气乖戾，不好交往，也没有朋友。那些想跟他套近乎的人碰了钉子以后，都掉头而去。没有人知道他的来历。有人说萨姆·希里尔知道，可别人不相信。人们问希里尔，他也摇头，说不大清楚。弗林特身边有一个十六七岁的英国小伙子，脾气温顺，弗林特无论人前人后都像凶神恶煞般地对待他。人们自然而然地想从这小伙子身上套点情况，却没有得手。这个名叫菲特洛克·琼斯的小伙子说，弗林特有一次在找矿时收留了他，因为他在美国举目无亲，所以还不如留下来给布克纳卖苦力挣点薪水，这薪水就是咸肉和豆子。除了这些，他就一句话也不肯再说了。
On both sides of the canyon the mountains rise wall-like, three thousand feet, and the long spiral of straggling huts down in its narrow bottom gets a kiss from the sun only once a day, when he sails over at noon. The village is a couple of miles long; the cabins stand well apart from each other. The tavern is the only frame house; the only house, one might say. It occupies a central position, and is the evening resort of the population. They drink there, and play seven-up and dominoes; also billiards, for there is a table, crossed all over with torn places repaired with court-plaster; there are some cues, but no leathers; some chipped balls which clatter when they run, and do not slow up gradually, but stop suddenly and sit down; there is a part of a cube of chalk, with a projecting jag of flint in it; and the man who can score six on a single break can set up the drinks at the bars expense.
山谷两侧群山壁立，有三千英尺高，在狭窄的谷底七零八落的小木头房子转着困排成一字长蛇阵，一天里，只有中午时分阳光才来草草地光顾一下。这屯子有两英里长；一座座小木屋彼此拉开距离。酒店是这屯子里惟一有点‘模样’的房子，也可以说是惟一的房子。它居于屯子中心，是居民们夜间消遣的去处。他们在这里喝酒，玩纸牌和多米诺骨牌，也玩台球。那张台球桌伤痕累累，横七竖八地贴满了橡皮膏；有几根缺皮裹头的球杆；几个刀削的球一滚起来就发出喀啦啦的响声。这些球从来不一点点慢慢地滚，而是忽地一下停下来，就坐在那儿不动弹了。还有残缺不全的一方计分用的白粉板，当中还凸出一块硬石头、一局能赢六分的人可以从柜台上白拿一杯酒喝。
The boy thanked him with tears in his eyes, but shuddered and said he “dasn’t risk it”; he said Flint would catch him alone, some time, in the night, and then; Oh, it makes me sick, “Mr. Riley, to think of it”.
那男孩眼含热泪千恩万谢，却战战兢兢地说他“不能冒险”；他说弗林特在夜里什么时候会抓住他，然后——“啊，利雷先生，一想我就心慌。”
Fetlock had been in this slavery for a month now, and under his meek exterior he was slowly consuming to a cinder with the insults and humiliations which his master had put upon him. For the meek suffer bitterly from these hurts; more bitterly, perhaps, than do the manlier sort, who can burst out and get relief with words or blows when the limit of endurance has been reached. Good-hearted people wanted to help Fetlock out of his trouble, and tried to get him to leave Buckner; but the boy showed fright at the thought, and said he dasn’t. Pat Riley urged him, and said:
如今菲特洛克已经当了一个月的奴仆，弗林特·布克纳对他的欺凌和羞辱正在蚕食着他柔弱的心田里一点点剩余的勇气。这种伤害使他苦不堪言。如果这种苦难再深重一些，超出一个男人所能承受的极限，或许这人会突然爆发，用言语或者行动来求得解脱。好心肠的人们想帮助菲特洛克脱离苦海，他们想方设法让他离开布克纳；可是，这男孩子听到这种想法吓得心惊胆战，说他‘不干’。帕特·利雷劝他说：
“You leave the damned hunks and come with me; don’t you be afraid. Ill take care of him.”
“你离开那个混账东西到我这儿来，别怕。我来照看你。”
Others said, “Run away from him; well stake you; skip out for the coast some night.” But all these suggestions failed; he said Flint would hunt him down and fetch him back, just for meanness.
别人也说：“从他那儿逃走，我们接应你。哪天趁黑夜逃到海边去。”可是，所有的建议都没有生效；他说弗林特哪怕只是为了出口恶气，也会追上他，把他抓回去。
The people could not understand this. The boys miseries went steadily on, week after week. It is quite likely that the people would have understood if they had known how he was employing his spare time. He slept in an out-cabin near Flints; and there, nights, he nursed his bruises and his humiliations, and studied and studied over a single problem; how he could murder Flint Buckner and not be found out. It was the only joy he had in life; these hours were the only ones in the twenty-four which he looked forward to with eagerness and spent in happiness.
人们百思不解。一个星期，又一个星期，那男孩继续挨着昔日子。假如大家知道他怎样支配自己的工余时间，就很有可能理解他了。他睡在离弗林特住处不远的一座小木屋里，每天夜里，他强忍被侮辱和伤害的感情，一遍又一遍地思考着同一个问题——怎样杀了弗林特。布克纳又不被人发觉。这是他生活中的惟一乐趣；在一天二十四小时中，他只盼望这几个小时赶快来临，然后愉快地度过。
He thought of poison. No; that would not serve; the inquest would reveal where it was procured and who had procured it. He thought of a shot in the back in a lonely place when Flint would be homeward bound at midnight; his unvarying hour for the trip. No; somebody might be near, and catch him. He thought of stabbing him in his sleep. No; he might strike an inefficient blow, and Flint would seize him. He examined a hundred different ways; none of them would answer; for in even the very obscurest and secretest of them there was always the fatal defect of a risk, a chance, a possibility that he might be found out. He would have none of that.
他想到了用毒药。不行——这不是稳妥的办法；一审问就能查出是在哪儿下的毒以及谁下的毒。他想到半夜里在弗林特回家的路上，挑一个僻静的地方从背后开枪——弗林特总是在这个时候回家。不行——有人会听见枪声，逮住他。他想等弗林特熟睡时动刀。不行——也许一刺不中要害，反倒被弗林特擒住。他琢磨了一百种不同的方法，没有一种可行；因为在这些方法里，即使是最隐秘的方法也有致命的缺陷，使得他要冒风险，有可能被发觉。这些方法全都不能用。
But he was patient, endlessly patient. There was no hurry, he said to himself. He would never leave Flint till he left him a corpse; there was no hurry; he would find the way. It was somewhere, and he would endure shame and pain and misery until he found it. Yes, somewhere there was a way which would leave not a trace, not even the faintest clew to the murderer; there was no hurry; he would find that way, and then; oh, then, it would just be good to be alive! Meantime he would diligently keep up his reputation for meekness; and also, as always theretofore, he would allow no one to hear him say a resentful or offensive thing about his oppressor.
不过，他有耐性，有足够的耐性。他暗自说，不用着急。他不会离开弗林特，离开时就要留下他的尸首。不用着急——会找到出路的。办法总会有，他要忍着屈辱、忍着痛苦、忍着不幸，一直到想出办法来。是的，总有一种没有痕迹、谋杀者连一点儿蛛丝马迹都不留的办法——不用着急——他会找到出路的，那时——啊，那时的生活该有多么美好！到那个时候，他会小心翼翼地维护自己谦恭温顺的名声，别人也绝不会从他口中听到对自己压迫者的一句怨言。
Two days before the before-mentioned October morning Flint had bought some things, and he and Fetlock had brought them home to Flints cabin: a fresh box of candles, which they put in the corner; a tin can of blasting-powder, which they placed upon the candle-box; a keg of blasting-powder, which they placed under Flints bunk; a huge coil of fuse, which they hung on a peg. Fetlock reasoned that Flints mining operations had outgrown the pick, and that blasting was about to begin now. He had seen blasting done, and he had a notion of the process, but he had never helped in it. His conjecture was right; blasting-time had come. In the morning the pair carried fuse, drills, and the powder-can to the shaft; it was now eight feet deep, and to get into it and out of it a short ladder was used. They descended, and by command Fetlock held the drill; without any instructions as to the right way to hold it; and Flint proceeded to strike. The sledge came down; the drill sprang out of Fetlocks hand, almost as a matter of course.
就在上述十月那个早晨的两天以前，弗林特和菲特洛克一起把买的一些东西搬回自己的木屋去。他们把一箱蜡烛放在屋角，把一铁罐炸药放在蜡烛箱子上，一小桶炸药放在了弗林特的床铺底下，还有一大盘导火索，他们挂在了一个木桩子上。菲特洛克推测弗林特探矿已经告一段落，就要开始爆破了。他曾经见过爆破，明白爆破的程序，但是他从来没有参与过。他的推测确实不错，爆破的时间到了。俩人一早抬起导火索、钢钎和炸药来到了矿井。矿井已经有八英尺深，他们用一架短梯子爬进爬出。他们下了井，菲特洛克按照弗林特的吩咐握住钢钎，不过弗林特并没有告诉他握钢钎的正确姿势。弗林特抡起大锤。不出所料，大锤落下时，菲特洛克握住的钢钎震飞了。
“You mangy son of a nigger, is that any way to hold a drill? Pick it up! Stand it up! There; hold fast. D; you! Ill teach you!”
“你这个狗娘养的，连个钢钎都不知道怎么拿啦？拣起来！握直了！快握住。该死——你！非训你不可！”
The boy started to pour in the powder.
那男孩开始往炮眼里倒炸药。
At the end of an hour the drilling was finished.
一小时后，炮眼打好了。
“Now, then, charge it.”
“来，装药。”
“Idiot!”
“白痴！”
“I wish to God you’d been in it!” remarked the master.
“让上帝把你填了炮眼才好呢！”主子说。
“Get up! You cant lie sniveling there. Now, then, stick in the fuse first. Now put in the powder. Hold on, hold on! Are you going to fill the hole all up? Of all the sap-headed milksops I; Put in some dirt! Put in some gravel! Tamp it down! Hold on, hold on! Oh, great Scott! get out of the way!” He snatched the iron and tamped the charge himself, meantime cursing and blaspheming like a fiend. Then he fired the fuse, climbed out of the shaft, and ran fifty yards away, Fetlock following. They stood waiting a few minutes, then a great volume of smoke and rocks burst high into the air with a thunderous explosion; after a little there was a shower of descending stones; then all was serene again.
“站起来！别在那儿假装哭哭啼啼的。看着，先栽药捻。然后再倒炸药。慢点儿，慢点儿！你是不是想把炮眼都填上啊？没本事的笨蛋！软骨头！我——填一点泥！填点儿碎石！捣实！慢着，慢着！废物！快滚开！”他拿起工具，一边自己动手把炸药捣实，一边凶神恶煞般不停地数黄道黑。后来，他点着了导火索，一爬出矿井，跑出五十码开外，菲特洛克跟在后头。他们等了几分钟，随着滚雷般的爆炸声，石块夹着滚滚浓烟飞上了半空，又像雨点般地落了下来。过后，现场又恢复了平静。
A heavy bat on the jaw laid the lad out.
弗林特一拳狠狠打在男孩的下巴上，把他打倒在地。
The boy cut and lit.
男孩剪断导火索，点了火。
They went down the shaft, cleaned it out, drilled another hole, and put in another charge.
他们下到井底，清理干净，再打另外一个炮眼，再装炸药。
“Well, idiot,” are you going to be all day? Cut the fuse and light it!
“哎，白痴，”你想混到天黑呀？截断药捻子，点火！”
“Look here! How much fuse are you proposing to waste? Don’t you know how to time a fuse?”
“瞧瞧！你到底想浪费多少药捻哪？你不会算要用多长的药捻子吗？”
“Oh, my God! Help! Help! Oh, save me!” he implored. “Oh what can I do! What can I do!”
“啊，上帝！救命！救命！哎，救救我！”他哀求着。“啊，我怎么办哪！我怎么办哪！”
“If you please, sir, I –“
“先生，要是你乐意，我就——”
He climbed out of the shaft and spoke down:
他爬出矿井，开了腔：
The trembling creature began,
男孩战战兢兢地说：
“You talk back to me? Cut it and light it!”
“你跟我顶嘴？截断，点上！”
“You don’t! Well, if you don’t beat anything I ever saw!”
“你不会！好，我倒要瞧瞧你会不会！”
In his rage he snatched the ladder out of the shaft and ran. The boy was aghast.
他气急败坏地把梯子抽出矿井，撒腿就跑。男孩吓坏了。
“Ger-reat Scott! a one-minute fuse! I wish you were in –“
“大、大、大笨蛋！一分钟的药捻子！我真想让你填了——”
He backed against the wall as tightly as he could; the sputtering fuse frightened the voice out of him; his breath stood still; he stood gazing and impotent; in two seconds, three seconds, four he would be flying toward the sky torn to fragments. Then he had an inspiration. He sprang at the fuse; severed the inch of it that was left above ground, and was saved.
他紧紧地背靠矿井壁，火花四溅的导火索吓得他喊不出声音来了；他停住了呼吸，直瞪瞪地盯着导火索，浑身发软。再有两秒钟、三秒钟或者四秒钟，他的肉身就会飞上天空，撕成碎片。这时他突然灵机一动。他跑到导火索跟前，把露在地面上只剩下一小截的导火索揪断。他得救了。
“No, sir.”
“先生，我不会。”
He sank down limp and half lifeless with fright, his strength gone; but he muttered with a deep joy:
他四肢无力地瘫倒在地，仍然吓得半死，他虽然有气无力，却带着发自内心深处的喜悦之情喃喃地说：
“It was an accident, you know. Don’t say anything about it to anybody; I was excited, and didn’t notice what I was doing. You’re not looking well; you’ve worked enough for to-day; go down to my cabin and eat what you want, and rest. It’s just an accident, you know, on account of my being excited.”
“你知道，这是个意外。别跟任何人说这件事。我当时太着急，都不知道自己干了什么。看起来你不大舒服。你今天干得够多了，上我屋里去，想吃什么就吃点儿什么，再歇一会儿。这不过是个意外，你明白吗？因为我太着急了。”
“He has learnt me! I knew there was a way, if I would wait.”
“他教会我了！我明白只要能等，总会有办法的。”
After a matter of five minutes Buckner stole to the shaft, looking worried and uneasy, and peered down into it. He took in the situation; he saw what had happened. He lowered the ladder, and the boy dragged himself weakly up it. He was very white. His appearance added something to Buckner’s uncomfortable state, and he said, with a show of regret and sympathy which sat upon him awkwardly from lack of practice:
大约过了五分钟，布克纳蹑手蹑脚地来到矿井旁边，小心翼翼、忐忑不安地张望了一下，然后溜了下去。他查看现场，弄清楚了到底是怎么回事。布克纳放下梯子，男孩吃力地攀着梯子爬上井去。他脸色惨白，表情中多了一些让布克纳感到不自在的东西。他用一种遗憾和同情的口气对菲特洛克说话，这种口气分明是说出事都是因为菲特洛克太缺乏经验。
“Dammed easy to please!” muttered Buckner, following him with his eye. “I wonder if hell tell? Mightn’t he?… I wish it had killed him.”
“他妈的，说得倒轻巧！”布克纳盯着菲特洛克的背影，自言自语。“他会不会说出去啊？他会说吗？……怎么没炸死他呢？”
“It scared me,” said the lad, “as he started away; but I learnt something, so I don’t mind it.”
“我吓坏了，”那男孩边走边说，“不过我学了点儿东西，所以我不在意。”
“If he’s got any suspicions that I’m going to tell on him, he won’t keep them long, to-morrow. He will see that I am the same milksop as I always was; all day and the next. And the day after to-morrow night there’ll be an end of him; nobody will ever guess who finished him up nor how it was done. He dropped me the idea his own self, and that’s odd.”
“如果他怀疑我要把那件事说出去，他不会老憋在肚子里，明天就能见分晓了。他会看到我还像往常那样，是个笨蛋——今天是，明天还是。后天晚上他的日子就要到头了；没人会猜到是谁结果了他，到底是怎么干的。是他自己把这主意扔给我的，真怪。”
The boy took no advantage of his holiday in the matter of resting; he employed it in work, eager and feverish and happy work. A thick growth of chaparral extended down the mountain-side clear to Flints cabin; the most of Fetlocks labor was done in the dark intricacies of that stubborn growth; the rest of it was done in his own shanty. At last all was complete, and he said:
菲特洛克没有利用因为这件事得到的假期来休息；他投入了自己的工作，干得又热切，又快乐。一道茂密的灌木丛一直延伸到山脚下弗林特小屋所在的开阔地，菲特洛克的工作大多是在枝繁叶茂的幽暗灌木丛中完成的；另有一些是在他自己的小木屋里干的。最后一切就绪了，他说：
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