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A Tramp Abroad
CHAPTER XXX - Harris Climbs Mountains for Me
Mark Twain
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       _ An hour's sail brought us to Lucerne again. I judged
       it best to go to bed and rest several days, for I knew
       that the man who undertakes to make the tour of Europe
       on foot must take care of himself.
       Thinking over my plans, as mapped out, I perceived that
       they did not take in the Furka Pass, the Rhone Glacier,
       the Finsteraarhorn, the Wetterhorn, etc. I immediately
       examined the guide-book to see if these were important,
       and found they were; in fact, a pedestrian tour of Europe
       could not be complete without them. Of course that decided
       me at once to see them, for I never allow myself to do
       things by halves, or in a slurring, slipshod way.
       I called in my agent and instructed him to go without delay
       and make a careful examination of these noted places,
       on foot, and bring me back a written report of the result,
       for insertion in my book. I instructed him to go to Hospenthal
       as quickly as possible, and make his grand start from there;
       to extend his foot expedition as far as the Giesbach fall,
       and return to me from thence by diligence or mule.
       I told him to take the courier with him.
       He objected to the courier, and with some show of reason,
       since he was about to venture upon new and untried ground;
       but I thought he might as well learn how to take care of
       the courier now as later, therefore I enforced my point.
       I said that the trouble, delay, and inconvenience
       of traveling with a courier were balanced by the deep
       respect which a courier's presence commands, and I must
       insist that as much style be thrown into my journeys
       as possible.
       So the two assumed complete mountaineering costumes
       and departed. A week later they returned, pretty well
       used up, and my agent handed me the following
       Official Report
       OF A VISIT TO THE FURKA REGION. BY H. HARRIS, AGENT
       About seven o'clock in the morning, with perfectly
       fine weather, we started from Hospenthal, and arrived at
       the MAISON on the Furka in a little under QUATRE hours.
       The want of variety in the scenery from Hospenthal made
       the KAHKAHPONEEKA wearisome; but let none be discouraged;
       no one can fail to be completely R'ECOMPENS'EE for
       his fatigue, when he sees, for the first time, the monarch
       of the Oberland, the tremendous Finsteraarhorn. A moment
       before all was dullness, but a PAS further has placed us
       on the summit of the Furka; and exactly in front of us,
       at a HOPOW of only fifteen miles, this magnificent mountain
       lifts its snow-wreathed precipices into the deep blue sky.
       The inferior mountains on each side of the pass form
       a sort of frame for the picture of their dread lord,
       and close in the view so completely that no other prominent
       feature in the Oberland is visible from this BONG-A-BONG;
       nothing withdraws the attention from the solitary grandeur
       of the Finsteraarhorn and the dependent spurs which form
       the abutments of the central peak.
       With the addition of some others, who were also bound
       for the Grimsel, we formed a large XHVLOJ as we descended
       the STEG which winds round the shoulder of a mountain
       toward the Rhone Glacier. We soon left the path and took
       to the ice; and after wandering amongst the crevices UN PEU,
       to admire the wonders of these deep blue caverns, and hear
       the rushing of waters through their subglacial channels,
       we struck out a course toward L'AUTRE CO^T'E and crossed
       the glacier successfully, a little above the cave from
       which the infant Rhone takes its first bound from under
       the grand precipice of ice. Half a mile below this
       we began to climb the flowery side of the Meienwand.
       One of our party started before the rest, but the HITZE
       was so great, that we found IHM quite exhausted,
       and lying at full length in the shade of a large GESTEIN.
       We sat down with him for a time, for all felt the heat
       exceedingly in the climb up this very steep BOLWOGGOLY,
       and then we set out again together, and arrived at last
       near the Dead Man's Lake, at the foot of the Sidelhorn.
       This lonely spot, once used for an extempore burying-place,
       after a sanguinary BATTUE between the French and Austrians,
       is the perfection of desolation; there is nothing in sight
       to mark the hand of man, except the line of weather-beaten
       whitened posts, set up to indicate the direction of the pass
       in the OWDAWAKK of winter. Near this point the footpath joins
       the wider track, which connects the Grimsel with the head
       of the Rhone SCHNAWP; this has been carefully constructed,
       and leads with a tortuous course among and over LES PIERRES,
       down to the bank of the gloomy little SWOSH-SWOSH, which
       almost washes against the walls of the Grimsel Hospice.
       We arrived a little before four o'clock at the end
       of our day's journey, hot enough to justify the step,
       taking by most of the PARTIE, of plunging into the crystal
       water of the snow-fed lake.
       The next afternoon we started for a walk up the Unteraar glacier,
       with the intention of, at all events, getting as far
       as the HUETTE which is used as a sleeping-place by most
       of those who cross the Strahleck Pass to Grindelwald.
       We got over the tedious collection of stones and DE'BRIS
       which covers the PIED of the GLETCHER, and had walked
       nearly three hours from the Grimsel, when, just as
       we were thinking of crossing over to the right,
       to climb the cliffs at the foot of the hut, the clouds,
       which had for some time assumed a threatening appearance,
       suddenly dropped, and a huge mass of them, driving toward
       us from the Finsteraarhorn, poured down a deluge of
       HABOOLONG and hail. Fortunately, we were not far from
       a very large glacier-table; it was a huge rock balanced
       on a pedestal of ice high enough to admit of our all
       creeping under it for GOWKARAK. A stream of PUCKITTYPUKK
       had furrowed a course for itself in the ice at its base,
       and we were obliged to stand with one FUSS on each side
       of this, and endeavor to keep ourselves CHAUD by cutting
       steps in the steep bank of the pedestal, so as to get
       a higher place for standing on, as the WASSER rose rapidly
       in its trench. A very cold BZZZZZZZZEEE accompanied
       the storm, and made our position far from pleasant;
       and presently came a flash of BLITZEN, apparently in the
       middle of our little party, with an instantaneous clap
       of YOKKY, sounding like a large gun fired close to our ears;
       the effect was startling; but in a few seconds our attention
       was fixed by the roaring echoes of the thunder against
       the tremendous mountains which completely surrounded us.
       This was followed by many more bursts, none of WELCHE,
       however, was so dangerously near; and after waiting a long
       DEMI-hour in our icy prison, we sallied out to talk through
       a HABOOLONG which, though not so heavy as before, was quite
       enough to give us a thorough soaking before our arrival at the
       Hospice.
       The Grimsel is CERTAINEMENT a wonderful place; situated at
       the bottom of a sort of huge crater, the sides of which
       are utterly savage GEBIRGE, composed of barren rocks
       which cannot even support a single pine ARBRE, and afford
       only scanty food for a herd of GMWKWLLOLP, it looks as
       if it must be completely BEGRABEN in the winter snows.
       Enormous avalanches fall against it every spring,
       sometimes covering everything to the depth of thirty
       or forty feet; and, in spite of walls four feet thick,
       and furnished with outside shutters, the two men who stay here
       when the VOYAGEURS are snugly quartered in their distant homes
       can tell you that the snow sometimes shakes the house to its
       foundations.
       Next morning the HOGGLEBUMGULLUP still continued bad,
       but we made up our minds to go on, and make the best of it.
       Half an hour after we started, the REGEN thickened unpleasantly,
       and we attempted to get shelter under a projecting rock,
       but being far to NASS already to make standing at all
       AGRE'ABLE, we pushed on for the Handeck, consoling ourselves
       with the reflection that from the furious rushing
       of the river Aar at our side, we should at all events
       see the celebrated WASSERFALL in GRANDE PERFECTION.
       Nor were we NAPPERSOCKET in our expectation; the water
       was roaring down its leap of two hundred and fifty feet
       in a most magnificent frenzy, while the trees which cling
       to its rocky sides swayed to and fro in the violence of the
       hurricane which it brought down with it; even the stream,
       which falls into the main cascade at right angles,
       and TOUTEFOIS forms a beautiful feature in the scene,
       was now swollen into a raging torrent; and the violence
       of this "meeting of the waters," about fifty feet below
       the frail bridge where we stood, was fearfully grand.
       While we were looking at it, GLUECKLICHEWEISE a gleam
       of sunshine came out, and instantly a beautiful rainbow
       was formed by the spray, and hung in mid-air suspended over
       the awful gorge.
       On going into the CHALET above the fall, we were
       informed that a BRUECKE had broken down near Guttanen,
       and that it would be impossible to proceed for some time;
       accordingly we were kept in our drenched condition for
       EIN STUNDE, when some VOYAGEURS arrived from Meiringen,
       and told us that there had been a trifling accident,
       ABER that we could now cross. On arriving at the spot,
       I was much inclined to suspect that the whole story was a ruse
       to make us SLOWWK and drink the more at the Handeck Inn,
       for only a few planks had been carried away, and though
       there might perhaps have been some difficulty with mules,
       the gap was certainly not larger than a MMBGLX might cross
       with a very slight leap. Near Guttanen the HABOOLONG
       happily ceased, and we had time to walk ourselves tolerably
       dry before arriving at Reichenback, WO we enjoyed a good DINE'
       at the Hotel des Alps.
       Next morning we walked to Rosenlaui, the BEAU ID'EAL
       of Swiss scenery, where we spent the middle of the day
       in an excursion to the glacier. This was more beautiful
       than words can describe, for in the constant progress
       of the ice it has changed the form of its extremity
       and formed a vast cavern, as blue as the sky above,
       and rippled like a frozen ocean. A few steps cut
       in the WHOOPJAMBOREEHOO enabled us to walk completely
       under this, and feast our eyes upon one of the loveliest
       objects in creation. The glacier was all around divided
       by numberless fissures of the same exquisite color,
       and the finest wood-ERDBEEREN were growing in abundance
       but a few yards from the ice. The inn stands in a CHARMANT
       spot close to the C^OTE DE LA RIVIE`RE, which, lower down,
       forms the Reichenbach fall, and embosomed in the richest
       of pine woods, while the fine form of the Wellhorn
       looking down upon it completes the enchanting BOPPLE.
       In the afternoon we walked over the Great Scheideck
       to Grindelwald, stopping to pay a visit to the Upper
       glacier by the way; but we were again overtaken by bad
       HOGGLEBUMGULLUP and arrived at the hotel in a SOLCHE
       a state that the landlord's wardrobe was in great request.
       The clouds by this time seemed to have done their worst,
       for a lovely day succeeded, which we determined to devote
       to an ascent of the Faulhorn. We left Grindelwald just as
       a thunder-storm was dying away, and we hoped to find GUTEN
       WETTER up above; but the rain, which had nearly ceased,
       began again, and we were struck by the rapidly increasing
       FROID as we ascended. Two-thirds of the way up were
       completed when the rain was exchanged for GNILLIC,
       with which the BODEN was thickly covered, and before we
       arrived at the top the GNILLIC and mist became so thick
       that we could not see one another at more than twenty
       POOPOO distance, and it became difficult to pick our way over
       the rough and thickly covered ground. Shivering with cold,
       we turned into bed with a double allowance of clothes,
       and slept comfortably while the wind howled AUTOUR DE
       LA MAISON; when I awoke, the wall and the window looked
       equally dark, but in another hour I found I could just
       see the form of the latter; so I jumped out of bed,
       and forced it open, though with great difficulty from
       the frost and the quantities of GNILLIC heaped up against it.
       A row of huge icicles hung down from the edge of the roof,
       and anything more wintry than the whole ANBLICK could
       not well be imagined; but the sudden appearance of the
       great mountains in front was so startling that I felt no
       inclination to move toward bed again. The snow which had
       collected upon LA FENE^TRE had increased the FINSTERNISS
       ODER DER DUNKELHEIT, so that when I looked out I was
       surprised to find that the daylight was considerable,
       and that the BALRAGOOMAH would evidently rise before long.
       Only the brightest of LES E'TOILES were still shining;
       the sky was cloudless overhead, though small curling
       mists lay thousands of feet below us in the valleys,
       wreathed around the feet of the mountains, and adding
       to the splendor of their lofty summits. We were soon
       dressed and out of the house, watching the gradual approach
       of dawn, thoroughly absorbed in the first near view
       of the Oberland giants, which broke upon us unexpectedly
       after the intense obscurity of the evening before.
       "KABAUGWAKKO SONGWASHEE KUM WETTERHORN SNAWPO!" cried some one,
       as that grand summit gleamed with the first rose of dawn;
       and in a few moments the double crest of the Schreckhorn
       followed its example; peak after peak seemed warmed
       with life, the Jungfrau blushed even more beautifully
       than her neighbors, and soon, from the Wetterhorn in the
       east to the Wildstrubel in the west, a long row of fires
       glowed upon mighty altars, truly worthy of the gods.
       The WLGW was very severe; our sleeping-place could
       hardly be DISTINGUEE' from the snow around it, which had
       fallen to a depth of a FLIRK during the past evening,
       and we heartily enjoyed a rough scramble EN BAS to the
       Giesbach falls, where we soon found a warm climate.
       At noon the day before Grindelwald the thermometer could
       not have stood at less than 100 degrees Fahr. in the sun;
       and in the evening, judging from the icicles formed,
       and the state of the windows, there must have been at least
       twelve DINGBLATTER of frost, thus giving a change of 80
       degrees during a few hours.
       I said:
       "You have done well, Harris; this report is concise,
       compact, well expressed; the language is crisp,
       the descriptions are vivid and not needlessly elaborated;
       your report goes straight to the point, attends strictly
       to business, and doesn't fool around. It is in many
       ways an excellent document. But it has a fault--it
       is too learned, it is much too learned. What is 'DINGBLATTER'?
       "'DINGBLATTER' is a Fiji word meaning 'degrees.'"
       "You knew the English of it, then?"
       "Oh, yes."
       "What is 'GNILLIC'?
       "That is the Eskimo term for 'snow.'"
       "So you knew the English for that, too?"
       "Why, certainly."
       "What does 'MMBGLX' stand for?"
       "That is Zulu for 'pedestrian.'"
       "'While the form of the Wellhorn looking down upon it
       completes the enchanting BOPPLE.' What is 'BOPPLE'?"
       "'Picture.' It's Choctaw."
       "What is 'SCHNAWP'?"
       "'Valley.' That is Choctaw, also."
       "What is 'BOLWOGGOLY'?"
       "That is Chinese for 'hill.'"
       "'KAHKAHPONEEKA'?"
       "'Ascent.' Choctaw."
       "'But we were again overtaken by bad HOGGLEBUMGULLUP.'
       What does 'HOGGLEBUMGULLUP' mean?"
       "That is Chinese for 'weather.'"
       "Is 'HOGGLEBUMGULLUP' better than the English word? Is
       it any more descriptive?"
       "No, it means just the same."
       "And 'DINGBLATTER' and 'GNILLIC,' and 'BOPPLE,'
       and 'SCHNAWP'--are they better than the English words?"
       "No, they mean just what the English ones do."
       "Then why do you use them? Why have you used all this
       Chinese and Choctaw and Zulu rubbish?"
       "Because I didn't know any French but two or three words,
       and I didn't know any Latin or Greek at all."
       "That is nothing. Why should you want to use foreign words,
       anyhow?"
       "They adorn my page. They all do it."
       "Who is 'all'?"
       "Everybody. Everybody that writes elegantly. Anybody has
       a right to that wants to."
       "I think you are mistaken." I then proceeded in the following
       scathing manner. "When really learned men write books
       for other learned men to read, they are justified in using
       as many learned words as they please--their audience
       will understand them; but a man who writes a book for the
       general public to read is not justified in disfiguring
       his pages with untranslated foreign expressions.
       It is an insolence toward the majority of the purchasers,
       for it is a very frank and impudent way of saying,
       'Get the translations made yourself if you want them,
       this book is not written for the ignorant classes.' There are
       men who know a foreign language so well and have used it
       so long in their daily life that they seem to discharge whole
       volleys of it into their English writings unconsciously,
       and so they omit to translate, as much as half the time.
       That is a great cruelty to nine out of ten of the
       man's readers. What is the excuse for this? The writer
       would say he only uses the foreign language where the
       delicacy of his point cannot be conveyed in English.
       Very well, then he writes his best things for the tenth man,
       and he ought to warn the nine other not to buy his book.
       However, the excuse he offers is at least an excuse;
       but there is another set of men who are like YOU;
       they know a WORD here and there, of a foreign language,
       or a few beggarly little three-word phrases, filched from
       the back of the Dictionary, and these are continually
       peppering into their literature, with a pretense of
       knowing that language--what excuse can they offer? The
       foreign words and phrases which they use have their exact
       equivalents in a nobler language--English; yet they think
       they 'adorn their page' when they say STRASSE for street,
       and BAHNHOF for railway-station, and so on--flaunting
       these fluttering rags of poverty in the reader's face
       and imagining he will be ass enough to take them for the
       sign of untold riches held in reserve. I will let your
       'learning' remain in your report; you have as much right,
       I suppose, to 'adorn your page' with Zulu and Chinese
       and Choctaw rubbish as others of your sort have to adorn
       theirs with insolent odds and ends smouched from half
       a dozen learned tongues whose A-B ABS they don't even know."
       When the musing spider steps upon the red-hot shovel,
       he first exhibits a wild surprise, then he shrivels up.
       Similar was the effect of these blistering words upon the
       tranquil and unsuspecting Agent. I can be dreadfully rough
       on a person when the mood takes me. _
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CHAPTER I - The Knighted Knave of Bergen
CHAPTER II - Heidelberg - Landing a Monarch at Heidelberg
CHAPTER III - Baker's Bluejay Yarn - What Stumped the Blue Jays
CHAPTER IV - Student Life - The Laborious Beer King
CHAPTER V - At the Students' Dueling-Ground - Dueling by Wholesale
CHAPTER VI - A Sport that Sometimes Kills
CHAPTER VII - How Bismark Fought
CHAPTER VIII - The Great French Duel - I Second Gambetta in a Terrific Duel
CHAPTER IX - What the Beautiful Maiden Said
CHAPTER X - How Wagner Operas Bang Along
CHAPTER XI - I Paint a "Turner"
CHAPTER XII - What the Wives Saved
CHAPTER XIII - My Long Crawl in the Dark
CHAPTER XIV - Rafting Down the Neckar
CHAPTER XV - Down the River - Charming Waterside Pictures
CHAPTER XVI - An Ancient Legend of the Rhine - The Lorelei
CHAPTER XVII - Why Germans Wear Spectacles
CHAPTER XVIII - The Kindly Courtesy of Germans
CHAPTER XIX - The Deadly Jest of Dilsberg
CHAPTER XX - My Precious, Priceless Tear-Jug
CHAPTER XXI - Insolent Shopkeepers and Gabbling Americans
CHAPTER XXII - The Black Forest and Its Treasures
CHAPTER XXIII - Nicodemus Dodge and the Skeleton
CHAPTER XXIV - I Protect the Empress of Germany
CHAPTER XXV - Hunted by the Little Chamois
CHAPTER XXVI - The Nest of the Cuckoo-clock
CHAPTER XXVII - I Spare an Awful Bore
CHAPTER XXVIII - The Jodel and Its Native Wilds
CHAPTER XXIX - Looking West for Sunrise
CHAPTER XXX - Harris Climbs Mountains for Me
CHAPTER XXXI - Alp-scaling by Carriage
CHAPTER XXXII - The Jungfrau, the Bride, and the Piano
CHAPTER XXXIII - We Climb Far--by Buggy
CHAPTER XXXIV - The World's Highest Pig Farm
CHAPTER XXXV - Swindling the Coroner
CHAPTER XXXVI - The Fiendish Fun of Alp-climbing