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David Rasmunsen was a hustler, and, like many a greater man, a man of the one idea. Wherefore, when the clarion call of the North rang on his ear, he conceived an adventure in eggs and bent all his energy to its achivement. He figured briefly and to the point, and the adventure became iridescent-hued, splendid. That eggs would sell at Dawson for five dollars a dozen was a safe working premise. Whence it was incontrovertible that one thousand dozen would bring, in the Golden Metropolis, five thousand dollars.
戴维·拉斯马森是个有心搞点事儿的人；跟许多伟大人物一样，他也有着非常专一的想法。因此，当他的耳旁响起北方感人的召唤时，他就谋划着在鸡蛋上搞一笔投机生意，并且倾尽全力要搞成功。他简要地盘算了一下，这种生意太诱人了，笼罩在一片五光十色的华彩当中。在加拿大的道森，一打鸡蛋能卖到五个美元吧，这个估价很靠谱。那样的话，一千打鸡蛋就能在那个“金光之都”里卖出五千美元来，指定没错儿。
On the other hand, expense was to be considered, and he considered it well, for he was a careful man, keenly practical, with a hard head and a heart that imagination never warmed. At fifteen cents a dozen, the initial cost of his thousand dozen would be one hundred and fifty dollars, a mere bagatelle in face of the enormous profit. And suppose, just suppose, to be wildly extravagant for once, that transportation for himself and eggs should run up eight hundred and fifty more; he would still have four thousand clear cash and clean when the last egg was disposed of and the last dust had rippled into his sack.
此外呢，花销还是要考虑的。他已经考虑得很周全了，因为他向来谨慎，讲求实际，头脑冷静，从来不会因为幻想而激动起来。鸡蛋十五美分一打，那他买上一千打也只要一百五十美元，这在巨大的利润面前简直不值一提。假设一下，只是假设，他大大方方出手一回，人和鸡蛋的运费花个八百五十美元吧，等到最后一只鸡蛋出了手，最后一粒金砂蹦进他的钱袋，他还是可以净赚四千美元现钱。
"You see, Alma,"—he figured it over with his wife, the cosy dining room submerged in a sea of maps, government surveys, guidebooks, and Alaskan itineraries,—"you see, expenses don't really begin till you make Dyea—fifty dollars'll cover it with a first-class passage thrown in. Now from Dyea to Lake Linderman, Indian packers take your goods over for twelve cents a pound, twelve dollars a hundred, or one hundred and twenty dollars a thousand. Say I have fifteen hundred pounds, it'll cost one hundred and eighty dollars—call it two hundred and be safe. I am creditably informed by a Klondiker just come out that I can buy a boat for three hundred. But the same man says I'm sure to get a couple of passengers for one hundred and fifty each, which will give me the boat for nothing, and, further, they can help me manage it. And...that's all; I put my eggs ashore from the boat at Dawson. Now let me see how much is that?”
“你瞧，阿尔玛，”他跟他的妻子盘算起来。他们舒适的饭厅里堆满了各种地图、政府测绘报告、旅行指南和阿拉斯加行程安排,“你瞧，到了戴亚才开始产生费用——这段路程，就算买头等船票，五十美元也够了。从戴亚到林德尔曼湖，印第安运货工每磅收十二美分，一百磅就是十二美元，一千磅就是一百二十美元。假设我的货有一千五百磅重，就得花一百八十美元——保险起见，就算两百好了。有个从克朗代克淘金回来的可靠的人跟我说，拿三百美元我就能买到一条小船。这个人还说，我肯定能捞到两个搭船的人，每人收一百五，那船就等于白捡的，那两人还能帮我驾船。还有什么呢——呃，没啦。船一到道森，我就把鸡蛋运上岸。现在来算算一共花了多少钱？”
"Fifty dollars from San Francisco to Dyea, two hundred from Dyea to Linderman, passengers pay for the boat—two hundred and fifty all told," she summed up swiftly.
“从旧金山到戴亚，五十美元,从戴亚到林德尔曼，两百，买船的钱搭船的人出了——一共是两百五十美元。”她很快就算出来了。
"And a hundred for my clothes and personal outfit," he went on happily; "that leaves a margin of five hundred for emergencies. And what possible emergencies can arise?"
“我的衣服行李，得花个一百，”他高兴地接着说，“还剩五百可以拿来应急。不过能有什么紧急情况发生呢？”
Alma shrugged her shoulders and elevated her brows. If that vast Northland was capable of swallowing up a man and a thousand dozen eggs, surely there was room and to spare for whatever else he might happen to possess. So she thought, but she said nothing. She knew David Rasmunsen too well to say anything.
阿尔玛耸了耸肩，又扬了扬眉毛。如果辽阔的北方大地能容得下一个人和一千打鸡蛋，那么肯定会有充足的地方容纳这个人可能拥有的一切。她这么想着，却什么也没说。她太了解戴维·拉斯马森这个人了，什么都不用说了。
"Doubling the time because of chance delays, I should make the trip in two months. Think of it, Alma! Four thousand in two months! Beats the paltry hundred a month I'm getting now. Why, we'll build further out where we'll have more space, gas in every room, and a view, and the rent of the cottage'll pay taxes, insurance, and water, and leave something over. And then there's always the chance of my striking it and coming out a millionnaire. Now tell me, Alma, don't you think I'm very moderate ?”
“就算有时候耽搁了，多花上一倍的时间，我这一趟两个月也足够了。想想吧，阿尔玛！两个月搞到四千美元！我现在一个月那可怜巴巴的一百美元薪水，一下子就给比下去了。嗯，我们以后要在更远的地儿盖房子，要住得更宽敞些，每间屋子都要有煤气灯，都要有风景可看。现在这个小破屋子就租出去，房租拿来交我们的税啦，保险费啦，水费啦，还能有剩。而且我总会有机会掘到金矿的，一下就成百万富翁了。来，阿尔玛，你说说，你不觉得我的想法还是太保守了吗？”
And Alma could hardly think otherwise. Besides, had not her own cousin,—though a remote and distant one to be sure, the black sheep, the harum-scarum, the ne'er-do-well,—had not he come down out of that weird North country with a hundred thousand in yellow dust, to say nothing of a half-ownership in the hole from which it came?
阿尔玛简直没法有别的想法。而且，谁让她那个堂兄弟——当然，只是门远亲，那是个败家子，一事无成的冒失鬼——谁让那个堂兄弟当初从神秘莫测的北方回来的时候，就带了价值十万美元的金砂？这还不算他在金砂矿上拥有的一半的所有权呢。
David Rasmunsen's grocer was surprised when he found him weighing eggs in the scales at the end of the counter, and Rasmunsen himself was more surprised when he found that a dozen eggs weighed a pound and a half—fifteen hundred pounds for his thousand dozen! There would be no weight left for his clothes, blankets, and cooking utensils, to say nothing of the grub he must necessarily consume by the way. His calculations were all thrown out, and he was just proceeding to recast them when he hit upon the idea of weighing small eggs. "For whether they be large or small, a dozen eggs is a dozen eggs," he observed sagely to himself; and a dozen small ones he found to weigh but a pound and a quarter. Thereat the city of San Francisco was overrun by anxious-eyed emissaries, and commission houses and dairy associations were startled by a sudden demand for eggs running not more than twenty ounces to the dozen.
戴维·拉斯马森经常照顾生意的那家杂货铺的老板看见他在柜台那头的秤上称鸡蛋，很是惊讶，而拉斯马森自己更惊讶，因为他发现一打鸡蛋有一磅半重——他那一千打鸡蛋就得有一千五百磅重！这样一来，重量预算里就没有余地给他的衣服、毯子、炊具了，更别提他总得带点儿在路上吃的东西。他的算盘落空了，而就在他准备推倒重来的时候，他又想出了称小蛋的主意。他可能耐地对自己说：“不管大小，一打鸡蛋就是一打鸡蛋。”他发现，一打小鸡蛋只有一又四分之一磅重。一时间旧金山城里满眼都是神色焦急的跑腿儿代办，各商社和畜禽产品联合会因为突然有人要一打不足二十盎司的鸡蛋而大为诧异。
Rasmunsen mortgaged the little cottage for a thousand dollars, arranged for his wife to make a prolonged stay among her own people, threw up his job, and started North. To keep within his schedule he compromised on a second-class passage, which, because of the rush, was worse than steerage; and in the late summer, a pale and wabbly man, he disembarked with his eggs on the Dyea beach. But it did not take him long to recover his land legs and appetite. His first interview with the Chilkoot packers straightened him up and stiffened his backbone. Forty cents a pound they demanded for the twenty-eight-mile portage, and while he caught his breath and swallowed, the price went up to forty-three. Fifteen husky Indians put the straps on his packs at forty-five, but took them off at an offer of forty-seven from a Skaguay Croesus in dirty shirt and ragged overalls who had lost his horses on the White Pass Trail and was now making a last desperate drive at the country by way of Chilkoot.
拉斯马森把他的小房子抵押了一千美元，把老婆送回娘家去长住，然后辞掉工作，动身北上。为了不超出预算，他只买了一张二等舱的票。因为正值淘金热，二等舱还比不上统舱。这时是夏末，等他带着鸡蛋在戴亚下船时，他已经面色苍白，连路都走不稳了。不过，不久之后他的腿就有劲儿了，胃口也好了起来。他第一次跟契尔库特运货工谈价钱就搞得他浑身一凛，背上发僵。运送这二十八英里路，他们讨要的运费是四十美分一磅，而他刚喘了口气，咽了口唾沫，价格就涨到了四十三美分。他出到四十五美分一磅的时候，十五个结实的印第安人把皮带栓上了他的货箱，不过又给解下来了，因为有个穿着脏兮兮的衬衣和破烂工装的斯卡圭财主出到了四十七美分。他在白隘口路上丢失了马匹，现在不顾一切地想借道契尔库特往前赶。
But Rasmunsen was clean grit, and at fifty cents found takers, who, two days later, set his eggs down intact at Linderman. But fifty cents a pound is a thousand dollars a ton, and his fifteen hundred pounds had exhausted his emergency fund and left him stranded at the Tantalus point where each day he saw the fresh-whipsawed boats departing for Dawson. Further, a great anxiety brooded over the camp where the boats were built. Men worked frantically, early and late, at the height of their endurance, calking, nailing, and pitching in a frenzy of haste for which adequate explanation was not far to seek. Each day the snowline crept farther down the bleak, rock-shouldered peaks, and gale followed gale, with sleet and slush and snow, and in the eddies and quiet places young ice formed and thickened through the fleeting hours. And each morn, toil-stiffened men turned wan faces across the lake to see if the freeze-up had come. For the freeze-up heralded the death of their hope—the hope that they would be floating down the swift river ere navigation closed on the chain of lakes.
不过拉斯马森也是个硬茬儿，他出到五十美分一磅时终于有了接活儿的人。两天以后，这些运货工把他的鸡蛋稳稳当当地送到了林德尔曼。但是五十美分一磅就等于是两千美元一吨，他这一千五百磅的重量耗尽了他准备的应急款，使他只能呆在坦塔罗斯角，每天看着那些新造好的小船开往道森。此外，造船的工房也笼罩在一种巨大的焦躁当中。从早到晚，人人都顶着忍耐的极限拼命地干活儿，急急忙忙地补船缝、钉钉子、涂沥青。其实这也不难理解。雪线每天都从荒凉萧瑟、山石嶙峋的雪峰上悄然下移，夹着冻雨和雪花的大风刮个不停，涡流和静水中都结起了薄冰，并随着飞逝的时光一点点加厚。每天早晨，这些忙活到手僵脚硬的人们都会抬起蜡白的脸看看湖面是否已经上冻。因为湖面一上冻，他们的希望就泡汤了——他们期望趁着一连串的湖泊还没上冻封航时，在湍急的河里顺流而下。
To harrow Rasmunsen's soul further, he discovered three competitors in the egg business. It was true that one, a little German, had gone broke and was himself forlornly back-tripping the last pack of the portage; but the other two had boats nearly completed and were daily supplicating the god of merchants and traders to stay the iron hand of winter for just another day. But the iron hand closed down over the land. Men were being frozen in the blizzard, which swept Chilkoot, and Rasmunsen frosted his toes ere he was aware. He found a chance to go passenger with his freight in a boat just shoving off through the rubble, but two hundred, hard cash, was required, and he had no money.
更让拉斯马森恼火的是，他发现了三个也做鸡蛋生意的竞争者。那个矮个儿德国人倒是已经破产，他正独自背着最后一箱货，黯然返回，但是另外两个竞争对手定做的船就快完工了，他们天天祈求商贩的保护神把寒冬的铁掌再多挡住一天。但是这铁掌已经紧紧地按在了大地上。暴风雪横扫契尔库特，很多人都冻伤了，拉斯马森的脚趾也在不知不觉中冻伤了。他本有机会搭上一条准备在冰碴子里开航的小船，但对方要价两百美元，还得是现钱，而他没有钱了。
"Ay tank you yust wait one leedle w'ile," said the Swedish boatbuilder, who had struck his Klondike right there and was wise enough to know it—"one leedle w'ile und I make you a tam fine skiff boat, sure Pete.”
“我角得，你等一时间，”瑞典造船匠说，他在这儿简直是掘到了金矿，而且他也够聪明，自己明白这一层，“你等，我你给造，船好，没温题的。”
With this unpledged word to go on, Rasmunsen hit the back trail to Crater Lake, where he fell in with two press correspondents whose tangled baggage was strewn from Stone House, over across the Pass, and as far as Happy Camp.
有了这句空口无凭的保证，拉斯马森就回到了火山湖那边。在那儿他碰到了两个新闻记者，他们从石屋地穿过山道到达幸福营，一路上散失了许多行李。
"Yes," he said with consequence. "I've a thousand dozen eggs at Linderman, and my boat's just about got the last seam calked. Consider myself in luck to get it. Boats are at a premium, you know, and none to be had.”
“是的，”他郑重其事地宣布，“我有一千打鸡蛋在林德尔曼，我的船就快补齐最后一条缝了。我运气还不赖，搞到了船。你们也知道，船现在很紧俏，要买都买不着。”
Whereupon and almost with bodily violence the correspondents clamored to go with him, fluttered greenbacks before his eyes, and spilled yellow twenties from hand to hand. He could not hear of it, but they overpersuaded him, and he reluctantly consented to take them at three hundred apiece. Also they pressed upon him the passage money in advance. And while they wrote to their respective journals concerning the good Samaritan with the thousand dozen eggs, the good Samaritan was hurrying back to the Swede at Linderman.
他的话一出口，两个记者嚷着要跟他同行，简直要动武了。他们拿着钞票在他眼前晃来晃去，把二十美元一枚的黄澄澄的金币在手里倒来倒去。他本不想听金币的声音，但两个记者缠住他不放，等他们每人都出到三百美元的时候，他也只好答应捎上两人。而且，两个记者硬要把旅费预付给他。当两个记者写信给各自的报馆说起这位有一千打鸡蛋的好心的撒马利亚人的时候，这位好心人正赶往林德尔曼去找那个瑞典造船匠。
"Here, you! Gimme that boat!" was his salutation, his hand jingling the correspondents' gold pieces and his eyes hungrily bent upon the finished craft.
“嗨，伙计！把那船给我！”他直接这么打招呼，手里叮呤咣啷拨弄着记者给的金币，一双眼睛贪婪地盯在那条已经完工的船上。
The Swede regarded him stolidly and shook his head.
瑞典人只是冷冷地招呼了下，摇了摇头。
"How much is the other fellow paying? Three hundred? Well, here's four. Take it.”
“那家伙出多少钱？三百美元？喏，这儿是四百。拿着。”
He tried to press it upon him, but the man backed away.
他想把钱塞给那个瑞典人，但是瑞典人往后退了几步。
"Ay tank not. Ay say him get der skiff boat. You yust wait—”
“不熊。输过了，船，他的，给了。你等……”
"Here's six hundred. Last call. Take it or leave it. Tell'm it's a mistake.”
“这儿是六百。我出最后一次价咯。要不要全看你。就跟他们说你搞错啦。”
The Swede wavered. "Ay tank yes," he finally said, and the last Rasmunsen saw of him his vocabulary was going to wreck in a vain effort to explain the mistake to the other fellows.
瑞典人动摇了。“嗯，好吧。”他终于答应了。拉斯马森最后一眼瞧见他的时候，他正在用愈发蹩脚的英语费劲地向那几个定船的人解释着哪儿搞错了，但没人买他的账。
The German slipped and broke his ankle on the steep hogback above Deep Lake, sold out his stock for a dollar a dozen, and with the proceeds hired Indian packers to carry him back to Dyea. But on the morning Rasmunsen shoved off with his correspondents, his two rivals followed suit.
那个德国人在深湖旁边的陡峭山脊上滑倒了，摔坏了脚踝，因此他以一美元一打的价钱清空了存货，拿这些钱雇了几个印第安运货工，把他抬回戴亚去了。不过拉斯马森跟两个记者开拔的那天早晨，他的两个对手也跟了上来。
"How many you got?" one of them, a lean little New Englander, called out.
“你那儿有多少？”一个瘦小的新英格兰人喊道。
"One thousand dozen," Rasmunsen answered proudly.
“一千打，”拉斯马森得意洋洋地应道。
"Huh! I'll go you even stakes I beat you in with my eight hundred.”
“哼！我拿我的八百打也能赢你，打赌都不怕。”
The correspondents offered to lend him the money; but Rasmunsen declined, and the Yankee closed with the remaining rival, a brawny son of the sea and sailor of ships and things, who promised to show them all a wrinkle or two when it came to cracking on. And crack on he did, with a large tarpaulin squaresail which pressed the bow half under at every jump. He was the first to run out of Linderman, but, disdaining the portage, piled his loaded boat on the rocks in the boiling rapids. Rasmunsen and the Yankee, who likewise had two passengers, portaged across on their backs and then lined their empty boats down through the bad water to Bennett.
记者主动要借钱给拉斯马森打赌，但被他拒绝了。于是那个美国佬跟剩下的那个对手赌上了。那是个强壮的水里泡大的人，是个见过很多世面的水手。水手说，等满帆前进的时候，他一定要露两手。他确实满帆前进了，每过一个浪头，那张帆布大方帆就把一半的船头都压到水里。他是第一个驶出林德尔曼湖的人。但是由于他不屑于在浅水处将货物通过陆上转运，他那条满载的船在激流中搁浅了。拉斯马森和那个也搭了两个人的美国佬，靠背扛把货物转运过浅滩，然后驾着空船驶过险恶的水道，进入贝内特湖。
Bennett was a twenty-five-mile lake, narrow and deep, a funnel between the mountains through which storms ever romped. Rasmunsen camped on the sand-pit at its head, where were many men and boats bound north in the teeth of the Arctic winter. He awoke in the morning to find a piping gale from the south, which caught the chill from the whited peaks and glacial valleys and blew as cold as north wind ever blew. But it was fair, and he also found the Yankee staggering past the first bold headland with all sail set. Boat after boat was getting under way, and the correspondents fell to with enthusiasm.
贝内特湖是一个长二十五英里又窄又深的湖，像个漏斗一样夹在群山之中，时常受到风暴的光顾。拉斯马森在湖口的沙滩上搭起了帐篷，沙滩上还有许多其他顶着北极刀剑般的寒冬往北走的人，连同他们的船。他早晨醒来的时候，大风从南边呼啸着刮过来，带着雪峰冰谷的寒意，跟常年刮的寒冷北风没什么两样。但是天气其实不错，他还发现那个美国佬扬起满帆，一路跌跌撞撞地驶过第一个险峻的岬角。小船一条接一条下水启航，两个记者也充满了干劲。
"We'll catch him before Cariboo Crossing," they assured Rasmunsen, as they ran up the sail and the Alma took the first icy spray over her bow.
“我们在驯鹿渡之前就能追上他，”他们拉起船帆，满怀信心地对拉斯马森说。拉斯马森命名的“阿尔玛号”的船首溅上了头一片冰冷的浪花。
Now Rasmunsen all his life had been prone to cowardice on water, but he clung to the kicking steering-oar with set face and determined jaw. His thousand dozen were there in the boat before his eyes, safely secured beneath the correspondents' baggage, and somehow, before his eyes, were the little cottage and the mortgage for a thousand dollars.
拉斯马森平生见了水就发怵，但现在他脸色坚定、牙关紧咬，牢牢握住那根被浪打得跳来跳去的掌控方向的桨。那一千打鸡蛋就在他眼前的这条小船上，稳稳当当地放在记者的行李下面；他眼前也似乎浮现出那栋小房子和换得的一千美元的抵押书。
It was bitter cold. Now and again he hauled in the steering-sweep and put out a fresh one while his passengers chopped the ice from the blade. Wherever the spray struck, it turned instantly to frost, and the dipping boom of the spritsail was quickly fringed with icicles. The Alma strained and hammered through the big seas till the seams and butts began to spread, but in lieu of bailing the correspondents chopped ice and flung it overboard. There was no let-up. The mad race with winter was on, and the boats tore along in a desperate string.
天气极冷。他时常得把那根掌控方向的桨拽上来，换上一根新的，而两个搭船的记者则负责敲掉桨叶上结的冰。浪花溅到哪儿，马上就结冰，斜杠帆的帆杆下端也很快挂满了冰柱。“阿尔玛”号大浪中奋力前行，船缝和板材结合处都松开了，而两个记者却不知道排水，只顾着敲碎冰块，扔到船外去。情况越来越危急。这场跟寒冬较劲的疯狂比赛已经开始了，一溜小船都在不顾一切地破浪前行。
"W-w-we can't stop to save our souls!" one of the correspondents chattered, from cold, not fright.
“我、我、我们要想活命，就不能停！”其中一个记者结结巴巴地说，他倒不是害怕，而是因为冷。
"That's right! Keep her down the middle, old man!" the other encouraged.
“说得对！划到湖中间去，老伙计！”另一个记者鼓励他说。
Rasmunsen replied with an idiotic grin. The iron-bound shores were in a lather of foam, and even down the middle the only hope was to keep running away from the big seas. To lower sail was to be overtaken and swamped. Time and again they passed boats pounding among the rocks, and once they saw one on the edge of the breakers about to strike. A little craft behind them, with two men, jibed over and turned bottom up.
拉斯马森呆呆地笑了笑，算是回应。湖岸冻得像一块坚铁，上面布满了浪花的泡沫。即使划到湖中间去，也得避开大浪，才有通过的希望。帆一降下来船就会给浪花吞没。他们不时经过一些触礁的船，还有一次他们目睹了一条船差一点撞上礁石。他们后面有一条小船，船上有两个人，帆一转，整个船都翻过去了。
"Wow-watch out, old man!" cried he of the chattering teeth.
“看、看着点儿啊，老伙计！”那个结结巴巴的记者喊道。
Rasmunsen grinned and tightened his aching grip on the sweep. Scores of times had the send of the sea caught the big square stern of the Alma and thrown her off from dead before it till the after leach of the spritsail fluttered hollowly, and each time, and only with all his strength, had he forced her back. His grin by then had become fixed, and it disturbed the correspondents to look at him.
拉斯马森笑了下，已经握得生疼的手更加使劲地抓紧了桨柄。大浪一次又一次地拍在“阿尔玛号”又大又方的船尾上，把船都掀起来了，斜杠帆的后翼只能空荡荡地扇来扇去。每一次都靠他使出浑身解数，才使得船没有翻沉。他的笑容都僵硬了，两个记者一看见他都觉得不舒服。
They roared down past an isolated rock a hundred yards from shore. From its wave-drenched top a man shrieked wildly, for the instant cutting the storm with his voice. But the next instant the Alma was by, and the rock growing a black speck in the troubled froth.
他们在风浪中掠过一块离岸边约有一百码的孤立的礁石。在那块被浪浇得透湿的礁石顶端，有个人在拼命地喊着，一时间他的喊声都盖过了风浪。一眨眼功夫，“阿尔玛号”已经一跃而过，那块礁石变成了奔涌的浪花中的一个黑点。
"That settles the Yankee! Where's the sailor?" shouted one of his passengers.
“那个美国佬完蛋了！那个水手又去哪儿了？”一个搭船的记者喊道。
Rasmunsen shot a glance over his shoulder at a black squaresail. He had seen it leap up out of the gray to windward, and for an hour, off and on, had been watching it grow. The sailor had evidently repaired damages and was making up for lost time.
拉斯马森回头瞥了一眼，瞧见一片黑色的帆。他早就看见那方黑帆从一片灰黑之中蹿进上风头，整整一个小时都时隐时现，现在越变越大了。很明显，水手修好了他的船，正在奋起直追。
"Look at him come!"
“瞧，他赶上来了！”
Both passengers stopped chopping ice to watch. Twenty miles of Bennett were behind them—room and to spare for the sea to toss up its mountains toward the sky. Sinking and soaring like a storm god, the sailor drove by them. The huge sail seemed to grip the boat from the crests of the waves, to tear it bodily out of the water, and fling it crashing and smothering down into the yawning troughs.
两个记者停下敲冰的活儿，只顾着看。他们身后是二十英里的贝内特湖——湖面开阔，足以卷起滔天的巨浪。水手如同一尊风暴之神，驾船在风浪中浮浮沉沉，很快就超过了他们。那张巨大的帆好像一会儿把小船整个儿都提离了浪尖，一会儿又重重摔下来，按进即将闭合的波谷里。
"The sea'll never catch him!”
“浪头永远抓不着他！”
"But he'll r-r-run her nose under!”
“但是他会让、让整个脑袋都闷进水里去的！”
Even as they spoke, the black tarpaulin swooped from sight behind a big comber. The next wave rolled over the spot, and the next, but the boat did not reappear. The Alma rushed by the place. A little riffraff of oars and boxes was seen. An arm thrust up and a shaggy head broke, surface a score of yards away. For a time there was silence. As the end of the lake came in sight, the waves began to leap aboard with such steady recurrence that the correspondents no longer chopped ice but flung the water out with buckets. Even this would not do, and, after a shouted conference with Rasmunsen, they attacked the baggage. Flour, bacon, beans, blankets, cooking stove, ropes, odds and ends, everything they could get hands on, flew overboard. The boat acknowledged it at once, taking less water and rising more buoyantly.
就在他们说着的时候，那张黑色帆布帆被后面的一个大浪扑倒，从视线里消失了。一波又一波浪头从同一个地方涌过，而水手的船再也没有出现。“阿尔玛号”冲过了那个地方，能看见的只有些桨和木箱的残片。二十码外的湖面上，从水里冒出来一只胳膊，还有一颗披头散发的脑袋。一时间没人做声了。等到已经能望见湖尽头的时候，波浪不断打进船里来，两个记者顾不上敲冰了，只是一个劲儿地拿桶把水泼出去。这样也还是不行，于是，他们吵吵嚷嚷地跟拉斯马森商量了下，就动手扔行李。面粉、熏肉、豆子、毯子、炉子、绳子，还有些杂七杂八的零碎，只要能抓在手里的，都给扔出船外去了。船立刻有了反应，进水少了，船身也抬高了点儿。
"That'll do!”Rasmunsen called sternly, as they applied themselves to the top layer of eggs.
“这就行了！”拉斯马森厉声喝道，因为两个记者正要去抓最上层的鸡蛋。
"The in-hell it will!" answered the shivering one, savagely. With the exception of their notes, films, and cameras, they had sacrificed their outfit. He bent over, laid hold of an egg-box, and began to worry it out from under the lashing.
“行个屁呀！”那个抖抖索索的记者毫不客气地回了句。他们把所有的行李都扔了，只剩下笔记本、胶卷和照相机。那个记者探下身去，抓起一箱鸡蛋，打算把它从绳子下面拽出来。
"Drop it! Drop it, I say!"
“放下！我叫你放下！”
Rasmunsen had managed to draw his revolver, and with the crook of his arm over the sweep head was taking aim. The correspondent stood up on the thwart, balancing back and forth, his face twisted with menace and speechless anger.
拉斯马森腾出手来拔出左轮手枪，把胳膊肘搁在桨柄上开始瞄准。那个记者站在桨手座板上，前后晃着保持平衡；因为受到的威胁和无法言说的愤怒，他的脸都拧起来了。
"My God!"
“天哪！”
So cried his brother correspondent, hurling himself, face downward, into the bottom of the boat. The Alma, under the divided attention of Rasmunsen, had been caught by a great mass of water and whirled around. The after leach hollowed, the sail emptied and jibed, and the boom, sweeping with terrific force across the boat, carried the angry correspondent overboard with a broken back. Mast and sail had gone over the side as well. A drenching sea followed, as the boat lost headway, and Rasmunsen sprang to the bailing bucket.
另一个记者喊了一声，就脸朝下扑到船底去了。由于拉斯马森分了心，“阿尔玛号”被大浪打到，一下子调转了方向。帆后翼的缆绳断了，帆身落空，转了向，帆的下桁以惊人的力量横扫过船面，敲断那个发怒的记者的脊梁，把他从船里打了出去。船桅和船帆也一并翻倒到船外去了。船不再前进，浪头就接二连三地打进来，拉斯马森赶紧跳过去抓起舀水的桶。
Several boats hurtled past them in the next half-hour,—small boats, boats of their own size, boats afraid, unable to do aught but run madly on. Then a ten-ton barge, at imminent risk of destruction, lowered sail to windward and lumbered down upon them.
在接下来的半个小时里，好几条船从他们旁边经过——有小船、跟他们的船差不多大小的船、饱受惊吓的船，它们都无力施以援手，只顾着疯狂地往前赶。后来来了一条十吨的驳船，冒着即将翻沉的危险，在上风中收起帆，一点一点向他们靠过来。
"Keep off! Keep off!"Rasmunsen screamed.
“走开！走开！”拉斯马森大声叫道。
But his low gunwale ground against the heavy craft, and the remain-ing correspondent clambered aboard. Rasmunsen was over the eggs like a cat and in the bow of the Alma, striving with numb fingers to bend the hauling-lines together.
但是他的低矮的船舷已经碰到了那条大船，还活着的记者已经爬上了那条船。在“阿尔玛号”的船头上，拉斯马森像猫一样蹲在那堆鸡蛋上，竭力用他麻木的手指把拖绳收拢。
'Come on!' a red-whiskered man yelled at him.
“过来！”一个红胡子冲他喊道。
"I've a thousand dozen eggs here," he shouted back. "Gimme a tow! I'll pay you!”
“我这儿有一千打鸡蛋，”他也大声喊道，“拖我一把！我会给钱的！”
"Come on!" they howled in chorus.
“过来！”那边船上的人齐声喊道。
A big whitecap broke just beyond, washing over the barge and leaving the Alma half swamped. The men cast off, cursing him as they ran up their sail. Rasmunsen cursed back and fell to bailing. The mast and sail, like a sea anchor, still fast by the halyards, held the boat head on to wind and sea and gave him a chance to fight the water out. Three hours later, numbed, exhausted, blathering like a lunatic, but still bailing, he went ashore on an ice-strewn beach near Cariboo Crossing. Two men, a government courier and a half-breed voyageur, dragged him out of the surf, saved his cargo, and beached the Alma. They were paddling out of the country in a Peterborough, and gave him shelter for the night in their storm-bound camp. Next morning they de-parted, but he elected to stay by his eggs. And thereafter the name and fame of the man with the thousand dozen eggs began to spread through the land. Gold-seekers who made in before the freeze-up carried the news of his coming. Grizzled old-timers of Forty Mile and Circle City, sour doughs with leathern jaws and bean-calloused stomachs, called up dream memories of chickens and green things at mention of his name. Dyea and Skaguay took an interest in his being, and questioned his progress from every man who came over the passes, while Dawson—golden, omeletless Dawson—fretted and worried, and waylaid every chance arrival for word of him.
一片卷着白色泡沫的大浪打过来，把那条驳船淋了个遍，也往“阿尔玛号”里灌了半船水。那些人放弃了，一边扯开帆，一遍咒骂他。拉斯马森也回骂了几句，就开始动手舀水。他的桅杆和船帆还是让吊索牢牢地系着，像船锚一样，在风浪中稳住了船头，使他能腾出手跟积水斗争。三个小时后，这个浑身麻木、筋疲力尽、像个疯子一样胡言乱语却仍在舀水的人，终于在驯鹿渡附近一处堆满冰块的湖滩上靠岸了。一个政府的信使和一个混血旅行家，两人一起把他从浪里拖了出来，救出他的货物，并把“阿尔玛号”也弄上了岸。他们当时正要划船离开，前往彼得伯勒，当晚就留他在避风营地的帐篷里过夜。第二天早晨，两人都走了，而他还是守着他的鸡蛋。从此以后，这个带着一千打鸡蛋的人开始在这一带声名远播。那些趁着封冻前赶去找金矿的人一路传开他就要到来的消息。四十英里站和环形城那些头发斑白的老人们，那些牙床变得跟皮革一样、豆子在胃里都磨出茧子来的采矿老手们，一提起他的名字，就开始凭空回忆起鲜嫩稚鸡和绿色蔬菜。戴亚和斯卡圭城里的人们都翘首企盼他的到来，他们向每一个路过的人打听他走到哪里了，而道森——金光灿灿却连炒鸡蛋都没有的——道森城里的人们已经等得心烦意乱了，他们守在路边，逮着每一个过路的就打听他的消息。
But of this, Rasmunsen knew nothing. The day after the wreck he patched up the Alma and pulled out. A cruel east wind blew in his teeth from Tagish, but he got the oars over the side and bucked manfully into it, though half the time he was drifting backward and chopping ice from the blades. According to the custom of the country, he was driven ashore at Windy Arm; three times on Tagish saw him swamped and beached; and Lake Marsh held him at the freeze-up. The Alma was crushed in the jamming of the floes, but the eggs were intact. These he back-tripped two miles across the ice to the shore, where he built a cache, which stood for years after and was pointed out by men who knew.
但是拉斯马森对此一无所知。落难后的第二天，他修补了下“阿尔玛号”，就又出发了。凛冽的东风从塔吉什湖吹来，一直灌进他的牙缝里。尽管有一半的时间他都在敲桨叶上的冰块，船这时就被风刮得往后退，可是他仍然按着桨，努力地划着。跟大多数人一样，他终究还是给刮到了大风湾的岸上；在塔吉什湖里他的船三次没入水里，三次被冲到岸上；最后，他被困在冰封的马什湖里。“阿尔玛号”已经被浮冰挤得四分五裂了，但鸡蛋依然完好无损。他背着鸡蛋，穿过冰块，步行两英里来到岸上。他在岸上盖了个储藏鸡蛋的棚子，这个棚子历经多年仍然立在那里，供知道它来历的人们指指点点。
Half a thousand frozen miles stretched between him and Dawson, and the waterway was closed. But Rasmunsen, with a peculiar tense look in his face, struck back up the lakes on foot. What he suffered on that lone trip, with naught but a single blanket, an axe, and a handful of beans, is not given to ordinary mortals to know. Only the Arctic adventurer may understand. Suffice that he was caught in a blizzard on Chilkoot and left two of his toes with the surgeon at Sheep Camp. Yet he stood on his feet and washed dishes in the scullery of the Pawona to the Puget Sound, and from there passed coal on a P. S. boat to San Francisco. It was a haggard, unkempt man who limped across the shining office floor to raise a second mortgage from the bank people. His hollow cheeks betrayed themselves through the scraggly beard, and his eyes seemed to have retired into deep caverns where they burned with cold fires. His hands were grained from exposure and hard work, and the nails were rimmed with tight-packed dirt and coal dust. He spoke vaguely of eggs and ice-packs, winds and tides; but when they declined to let him have more than a second thousand, his talk became incoherent, concerning itself chiefly with the price of dogs and dog-food, and such things as snowshoes and moccasins and winter trails. They let him have fifteen hundred, which was more than the cottage warranted, and breathed easier when he scrawled his signature and passed out the door.
他和道森城之间还隔着五百英里的冰封之路，而水路现在已经不能走了。但是拉斯马森还是带着他特有的紧张神色，徒步从湖上走了回去。这段孤寂的旅程，他只带了一张毯子、一把斧子和一把豆子，一路所受的苦，绝不是平常人所能够想象。这只有去北极探过险的人才能体会。他在契尔库特遇上了暴风雪，就这一下，他就在绵羊寨的外科大夫那里留下了两个脚趾。但他还是站了起来，在“帕汪纳”号船的厨房里刷盘子，搭船来到了普吉特湾，然后又在一条客船上加煤，最后回到了旧金山。等他一瘸一拐地走过银行光亮的地板，向工作人员提出再做一次贷款的时候，他已经变得形容枯槁、蓬头垢面了。蓬乱的胡须使得他凹陷的脸颊更加显眼，他的双眼呆呆地嵌在两个深深的眼窝里，忽闪着冷冷的火花。他的双手在风吹日晒和辛苦劳作之下变得非常粗糙，指甲缝里尽是堵得结结实实的污垢和煤屑。他含含糊糊地说起了鸡蛋、冰块和狂风大浪；当工作人员表示无法再借给他一千美元以上时，他变得语无伦次起来，絮絮叨叨地讲着狗和狗粮的价钱，讲着雪地靴、鹿皮软鞋和冬季道路一类的东西。他们最后给了他一千五百美元，这已经超出了他那幢小房子所能担保的数目，他这才松了口气，草草涂上自己的签名，走了出来。
Two weeks later he went over Chilkoot with three dog sleds of five dogs each. One team he drove, the two Indians with him driving the others. At Lake Marsh they broke out the cache and loaded up. But there was no trail. He was the first in over the ice, and to him fell the task of packing the snow and hammering away through the rough river jams. Behind him he often observed a camp-fire smoke trickling thinly up through the quiet air, and he wondered why the people did not overtake him. For he was a stranger to the land and did not understand. Nor could he understand his Indians when they tried to explain. This they conceived to be a hardship, but when they balked and refused to break camp of mornings, he drove them to their work at pistol point.
两个星期之后，他带着三驾各有五条狗拉着的雪橇，走过了契尔库特。他自己赶着一驾，两个印第安人负责另外两驾。到了马什湖，他们打破储藏棚，把鸡蛋都装上了雪橇。但是路没有了。他是第一个踏上冰路的人，所以他得肩负起踏雪开路的任务，并想办法穿过冰块拥塞的河道。一路上，他常看见篝火的炊烟在身后袅袅升上寂静的天空，他还纳闷为什么这些人不赶上他。因为他对这块土地还很陌生，还搞不明白。甚至那两个印第安人努力跟他解释了，他还是不明白。他们觉得冰上行路是一件很艰苦的事，但当他们止步不前，早晨不肯拔营出发时，拉斯马森就会用枪口逼着他们行动起来。
When he slipped through an ice bridge near the White Horse and froze his foot, tender yet and oversensitive from the previous freezing, the Indians looked for him to lie up. But he sacrificed a blanket, and, with his foot incased in an enormous moccasin, big as a water-bucket, continued to take his regular turn with the front sled. Here was the cruelest work, and they respected him, though on the side they rapped their foreheads with their knuckles and significantly shook their heads. One night they tried to run away, but the zip-zip of his bullets in the snow brought them back, snarling but convinced. Whereupon, being only savage Chilkat men, they put their heads together to kill him; but he slept like a cat, and, waking or sleeping, the chance never came. Often they tried to tell him the import of the smoke wreath in the i rear, but he could not comprehend and grew suspicious of them. And when they sulked or shirked, he was quick to let drive at them between the eyes, and quick to cool their heated souls with sight of his ready revolver.
后来，他在白马地附近的冰桥上滑倒了，他那只上次冻坏之后就分外敏感、一按就痛的脚又冻坏了，两个印第安人以为他得躺几天了。但是他仅仅撕了条毯子包了下，把脚塞进一只跟水桶一样大的巨型鹿皮鞋，就继续赶着第一驾雪橇领路了。这可是最惨的事了，两个印第安人尽管时常背着他用指关节敲敲前额，并大摇其头，表示他不可理喻，都还是不得不佩服他。一天夜里，他们试图逃走，但是他射出的子弹扑哧扑哧地打进雪地里，把两人吓了回来；他们嘴上骂骂咧咧，心里还是很信服他。但是，两人终究是野蛮的契尔卡特人，他们商量着要弄死他；不过他睡觉都跟猫一样机警，所以不论他醒着还是睡着，两人都没捞到机会。他们常常努力想告诉他后面那缕烟圈的重要意义，但他无法理解，更增加了对两人的疑心。当他们肝火上升或是畏缩不前时，他就马上劈头揍上一拳，再掏出随时待命的左轮手枪，让他们发热的脑子冷静下来。
And so it went—with mutinous men, wild dogs, and a trail that broke the heart. He fought the men to stay with him, fought the dogs to keep them away from the eggs, fought the ice, the cold, and the pain of his foot, which would not heal. As fast as the young tissue renewed, it was bitten and seared by the frost, so that a running sore developed, into which he could almost shove his fist. In the mornings, when he first put his weight upon it, his head went dizzy, and he was near to fainting from the pain; but later on in the day it usually grew numb, to recommence when he crawled into his blankets and tried to sleep. Yet he, who had been a clerk and sat at a desk all his days, toiled till the Indians were exhausted, and even outworked the dogs. How hard he worked, how much he suffered, he did not know. Being a man of the one idea, now that the idea had come, it mastered him. In the foreground of his consciousness was Dawson, in the background his thousand dozen eggs, and midway between the two his ego fluttered, striving alway to draw them together to a glittering golden point. This golden point was the five thousand dollars, the consummation of the idea and the point of departure for whatever new idea might present itself. For the rest, he was a mere automaton. He was unaware of other things, seeing them as through a glass darkly, and giving them no thought. The work of his hands he did with machine-like wisdom; likewise the work of his head. So the look on his face grew very tense, till even the Indians were afraid of it, and marvelled at the strange white man who had made them slaves and forced them to toil with such foolishness.
日子就这样过去了——伴随着随时准备暴动的人、凶恶的狗，还有令他心力交瘁的艰难跋涉。他跟人斗，是为了留住他们；跟狗斗，是为了不让它们靠近鸡蛋；他还要跟冰斗，跟寒冷斗，跟他那只好不了的脚的疼痛作斗争。新的组织一长出来，就饱受冻疮的折磨，脚上的疮一直都没有好过，创口大得他几乎可以塞进一个拳头。每天早晨，脚一踏在地上，他的头都会发昏，疼痛几乎要使他晕死过去；但是到了白天，脚也就麻木了，只有当他缩进毯子准备睡觉的时候才会再觉得痛。尽管如此，他这个一向坐在办公桌旁的小职员，在两个印第安人都筋疲力尽的时候还在操劳，甚至比狗还要玩命。他有多么努力，受了多少罪，连他自己都不知道。作为一个意念专一的人，念头既然产生了，就一直控制着他。他的意识里，他的前景就是道森，背景就是他那一千打鸡蛋，他的自我就在两者之间飘动，竭力将两者拉到一起，合成一个闪闪发光的金点。这个金点就是那五千美元，这是他意念的顶峰，也是一切可能出现的新念头的出发点。除此之外，他不过是个什么都不想的机器人。他对其他事情就置之不理，即使看见了也像是隔着昏暗的玻璃，从来不多想一想。他的双手手全凭着这些很机械的想法操控来干活儿，他的头脑也是这样。所以，他的神色终于变得非常紧张，以至于两个印第安人都感到害怕；他们惊诧于居然会有这么一个古怪的白人，他把他们当奴隶使，强迫他们一味蛮干。
Then came a snap on Lake Le Barge, when the cold of outer space smote the tip of the planet, and the frost ranged sixty and odd degrees below zero. Here, laboring with open mouth that he might breathe more freely, he chilled his lungs, and for the rest of the trip he was troubled with a dry, hacking cough, especially irritable in smoke of camp or under stress of undue exertion. On the Thirty Mile river he found much open water, spanned by precarious ice bridges and fringed with narrow rim ice, tricky and uncertain. The rim ice was impossible to reckon on, and he dared it without reckoning, falling back on his revolver when his drivers demurred. But on the ice bridges, covered with snow though they were, precautions could be taken. These they crossed on their snowshoes, with long poles, held crosswise in their hands, to which to cling in case of accident. Once over, the dogs were called to follow. And on such a bridge, where the absence of the centre ice was masked by the snow, one of the Indians met his end. He went through as quickly and neatly as a knife through thin cream, and the current swept him from view down under the stream ice.
悲惨一幕终于在驳船湖上演了。当时，外太空的冷空气侵袭了地球的这一端，温度降到了零下六十多度。为了呼吸得比较自在，他干活儿的时候张着嘴，一下冻坏了肺，由此落下干咳的毛病，尤其在闻到篝火的烟或者用力过猛的时候，就咳得非常厉害。走到三十英里河的时候，他发现河里好多地方没有结冰，河面上只架着一层冰桥，边缘结着薄冰，很不牢靠。这种薄冰本不能指望可以承重，而他想都没想就走上去了，要是两个印第安人有异议，他就祭出左轮手枪。冰桥上盖满了积雪，不过预防跌落的办法倒还是有的。他们套上雪地靴，手里横拿着长杆，要是遇到意外也好紧紧抓住。人过去了，就马上招呼狗也跟过去。他们走到一座冰桥上，积雪下面居然有个没结冰的空洞，一个印第安人就此归了天。他干脆利落地掉了下去，就像刀子插进薄薄的奶油，立刻就被浮冰下面的水流卷走了。
That night his mate fled away through the pale moonlight, Rasmunsen futilely puncturing the silence with his revolver—a thing that he handled with more celerity than cleverness. Thirty-six hours later the Indian made a police camp on the Big Salmon. "Um—um—um funny mans—what you call?—top um head all loose," the interpreter explained to the puzzled captain. "Eh ? Yep, crazy, much crazy mans. Eggs, eggs, all a time eggs—savvy? Come bime-by.”
当晚，另一个印第安人趁着暗淡的月色逃走了，拉斯马森徒劳地开了几枪，只是打破了夜里的沉静——开枪倒是迅速，枪法却并不高明。三十六个小时后，这个印第安人找进了大鲑鱼河的派出所。“呃，呃，古怪的家伙——你叫他什么？完全脑子搭错线了，”译员向莫名其妙的警察队长解释他说的话。“嗯？对，疯啦，就是个疯子。鸡蛋，鸡蛋，总是鸡蛋——你听明白了吗？他就要来啦。”
It was several days before Rasmunsen arrived, the three sleds lashed together, and all the dogs in a single team. It was awkward, and where the going was bad he was compelled to back-trip it sled by sled, though he managed most of the time, through herculean efforts, to bring all along on the one haul. He did not seem moved when the captain of police told him his man was hitting the high places for Dawson, and was by that time, probably, halfway between Selkirk and Stewart. Nor did he appear interested when informed that the police had broken the trail as far as Pelly; for he had attained to a fatalistic acceptance of all natural dispensations, good or ill. But when they told him that Dawson was in the bitter clutch of famine, he smiled, threw the harness on his dogs, and pulled out.
过了好几天，拉斯马森才走到这个派出所。他把三驾雪橇捆在一起，把所有的狗也并到一队。这样极为不方便，尽管他很多时候使出天神赫拉克勒斯般的力量，把三驾雪橇一起拖走，但在路不好走的地方，他也只能多走回头路，一驾一驾地拖。警察队长告诉他，他手下那个印第安人正在奔向道森，那时候应该在塞克尔克和斯图亚特河之间的半路上，他听了之后，似乎没什么感觉。甚至当听到警察说已经打通了去往佩利的路，他也没显出什么兴致来；他完全现在听天由命，情况好也罢，坏也罢，都没什么所谓了。不过当他们告诉他道森正在闹饥荒的时候，他笑了，套上狗，又动身上路。
But it was at his next halt that the mystery of the smoke was explained. With the word at Big Salmon that the trail was broken to Pelly, there was no longer any need for the smoke wreath to linger in his wake; and Rasmunsen, crouching over his lonely fire, saw a motley string of sleds go by. First came the courier and the half-breed who had hauled him out from Bennett; then mail-carriers for Circle City, two sleds of them, and a mixed following of ingoing Klondikers. Dogs and men were fresh and fat, while Rasmunsen and his brutes were jaded and worn down to the skin and bone. They of the smoke wreath had travelled one day in three, resting and reserving their strength for thei dash to come when broken trail was met with; while each day he had plunged and floundered forward, breaking the spirit of his dogs and, robbing them of their mettle.
直到他下一次落脚歇息的时候，他才弄明白烟的秘密。自从大鲑鱼河传出通往佩利的路已经打通的消息，那些烟圈就用不着再在他背后磨磨蹭蹭了；蹲在寂寥的火堆旁的拉斯马森，只看见各式各样的雪橇飞驰而过。头一批过去的是把他从贝内特湖里捞出来的那个政府信使和那个混血儿；接着是去环形城的邮差，坐了两驾雪橇，然后是一群去克朗代克淘金的形形色色的人。那些狗和人都精神饱满、膘肥体壮，而拉斯马森和他的狗都筋疲力尽，瘦得皮包骨头。这些曾在他背后燃起炊烟的人每三天里只有一天在赶路，剩下时间都养精蓄锐，以便等到道路打通的时候可以一路狂奔；而拉斯马森每天都在挣扎着往前挪，拖垮了那些狗的精神，也夺去了它们的勇气。
As for himself, he was unbreakable. They thanked him kindly for his efforts in their behalf, those fat, fresh men,—thanked him kindly, with broad grins and ribald laughter; and now, when he understood, he made no answer. Nor did he cherish silent bitterness. It was immaterial. The idea—the fact behind the idea—was not changed. Here he was and his thousand dozen; there was Dawson; the problem was unaltered.
他自己则是打不倒的。他们亲切地感谢他，因为他在打通道路上替他们出了很多力——这些膘肥体壮、精神焕发的人咧着嘴嬉皮笑脸地谢过了他。现在他醒悟过来了，不过也不去理会他们了。他倒也没有暗自怀恨在心。这都无关宏旨。他的念头——以及念头背后的事实——都没有改变。他和他的一千打鸡蛋在这里；道森在那里；问题丝毫没有改变。
At the Little Salmon, being short of dog food, the dogs got into his grub, and from there to Selkirk he lived on beans—coarse, brown beans, big beans, grossly nutritive, which griped his stomach and doubled him up at two-hour intervals. But the Factor at Selkirk had a notice on the door of the Post to the effect that no steamer had been up the Yukon for two years, and in consequence grub was beyond price. He offered to swap flour, however, at the rate of a cupful for each egg, but Ras-munsen shook his head and hit the trail. Below the Post he managed to buy frozen horse hide for the dogs, the horses having been slain by the Chilkat cattle men, and the scraps and offal preserved by the Indians. He tackled the hide himself, but the hair worked into the bean sores of his mouth, and was beyond endurance.
走到小鲑鱼河的时候，由于狗粮短缺，狗开始吃他的粮食。从这里直到塞克尔克，他都靠豆子维持——棕褐色的粗粝大豆只够勉强补充点营养，还折磨着他的胃，使他每两个小时就疼得弯下腰去。而塞克尔克的站长在驿站门上贴了张告示，说育空河已经两年没开进过轮船了，粮食已成了无价之宝。不过站长仍愿意以一杯面粉换一个鸡蛋，但是拉斯马森摇摇头，就又上路了。过了驿站，他搞到了一些冻马皮来喂狗；马都给契尔卡特牧人杀死了，零碎和内脏都归了印第安人。他自己也试着尝了尝马皮，但是马毛扎进他嘴里被豆子磨起的溃疡里，疼得他无法忍受。
Here at Selkirk, he met the forerunners of the hungry exodus of Dawson, and from there on they crept over the trail, a dismal throng. "No grub!" was the song they sang. "No grub, and had to go.""Every-body holding candles for a rise in the spring.”"Flour dollar'n a half a pound, and no sellers.”
在塞克尔克，他还遇到了第一批从道森逃荒出来的人。他们一路艰难前行，样子很是凄凉。“没吃的！”他们全都是这句话。“没吃的，只有走了。”“大家都觉得春天铁定还得涨价。”“面粉都一块五一磅了，还是没人卖。”
"Eggs?" one of them answered. "Dollar apiece, but they ain't none.”Rasmunsen made a rapid calculation. "Twelve thousand dollars," he said aloud.
“鸡蛋吗？”其中一个人答道，“一美元一个，不过根本就没有。”拉斯马森赶紧算了一下。“一万两千美元，”他高声说道。
"Hey?" the man asked.
“啊？”那人问道。
"Nothing," he answered, and mushed the dogs along.
“没什么，”他一面回答，一面就赶着狗往前走了。
When he arrived at Stewart River, seventy miles from Dawson, five of his dogs were gone, and the remainder were falling in the traces. He, also, was in the traces, hauling with what little strength was left in him. Even then he was barely crawling along ten miles a day. His cheekbones and nose, frost-bitten again and again, were turned bloody-black and hideous. The thumb, which was separated from the fingers by the gee-pole, had likewise been nipped and gave him great pain. The monstrous moccasin still incased his foot, and strange pains were beginning to rack the leg. At Sixty Mile, the last beans, which he had been rationing for some time, were finished; yet he steadfastly refused to touch the eggs. He could not reconcile his mind to the legitimacy of it, and staggered and fell along the way to Indian River. Here a fresh-killed moose and an open-handed old-timer gave him and his dogs new strength, and at Ainslie's he felt repaid for it all when a stampede, ripe from Dawson in five hours, was sure he could get a dollar and a quarter for every egg he possessed.
赶到斯图亚特河，离道森还有七十英里的时候，他的狗已经死了五条，其余的也都拉不动了。他甚至自己都背上套绳，凭残存的一点力气来拖动雪橇了。即便如此，他也只能像爬一样每天前行十英里路。因为不断生冻疮，他的颧骨和鼻子遍布满是淤血的黑斑，丑陋至极。大拇指因为要握着舵杆，时常与其他指头分开，也冻坏了，疼得不行。那只大得出奇的鹿皮鞋还套在他脚上，一种奇怪的疼痛又开始折磨那条腿。到六十英里河的时候，他省着吃了好久的豆子也吃光了，不过他还是坚决不去动那些鸡蛋。他不肯顺从自己的想法，不肯承认这时候动一动鸡蛋也是很正当的行为，那么，他只好一步步捱向印第安河。到了那里，一位大方的老人给了他一头刚杀的麋鹿，他和他的狗才得以增添一点力气。走到恩斯里的时候，他遇到一个五个小时前刚从道森仓皇出逃的人，听说他的鸡蛋可以卖到一美元二十五美分，他感觉终于要苦尽甘来了。
He came up the steep bank by the Dawson barracks with fluttering heart and shaking knees. The dogs were so weak that he was forced to rest them, and, waiting, he leaned limply against the gee-pole. A man, an eminently decorous-looking man, came sauntering by in a great bearskin coat. He glanced at Rasmunsen curiously, then stopped and ran a speculative eye over the dogs and the three lashed sleds.
他爬上道森的兵营旁边的陡坡时，心乱跳个不停，膝盖也在打颤。那些狗已经虚弱至极，他不得不放它们休息休息，自己则软绵绵地靠在舵杆上等着。一个男子，一个穿着熊皮大衣的相貌堂堂的男子，信步踱了过来。他好奇地看了拉斯马森一眼，停了下来，仔细打量那些狗和捆在一起的雪橇。
"What you got?" he asked.
“都有些啥呀你这儿？”他问道。
"Eggs," Rasmunsen answered huskily, hardly able to pitch his voice above a whisper.
“鸡蛋。”拉斯马森哑着嗓子答道，他的声音小得近乎耳语，而他没法说得再大声点了。
"Eggs! Whoopee! Whoopee!"He sprang up into the air, gyrated madly, and finished with half a dozen war steps. "You don't say—all of 'em?”
“鸡蛋！哇哦！哇哦！”他都蹦起来了，发疯似地转了好几圈，然后又像当兵的那样踱了几步。“难不成——都是鸡蛋？”
"All of 'em.”
“都是鸡蛋。”
"Say, you must be the Egg Man."He walked around and viewed Rasmunsen from the other side. "Come, now, ain't you the Egg Man?”Rasmunsen didn't know, but supposed he was, and the man sobered down a bit.
“啊，那你一定就是那个鸡蛋商人了。”他绕过去，从另一面打量着拉斯马森。“说句话呀，你是不是那个鸡蛋商人啊？”拉斯马森不知道他在说谁，不过他就假定自己是那个鸡蛋商人了，那个人终于消停了。
"What d'ye expect to get for 'em?" he asked cautiously.
“你打算卖个什么价？”他小心地问道。
Rasmunsen became audacious. "Dollar'n a half," he said.
拉斯马森一下张狂起来。“一块五。”他说。
"Done !" the man came back promptly. "Gimme a dozen."
“成交！”那人立刻回答。“给我来一打。”
"I—I mean a dollar'n a half apiece," Rasmunsen hesitatingly explained.
“我、我的意思是每个鸡蛋一块五。”拉斯马森支吾着解释道。
"Sure. I heard you. Make it two dozen. Here's the dust.”The man pulled out a healthy gold sack the size of a small sausage and knocked it negligently against the gee-pole. Rasmunsen felt a strange trembling in the pit of his stomach, a tickling of the nostrils, and an almost overwhelming desire to sit down and cry. But a curious, wide-eyed crowd was beginning to collect, and man after man was calling out for eggs. He was without scales, but the man with the bearskin coat fetched a pair and obligingly weighed in the dust while Rasmunsen passed out the goods. Soon there was a pushing and shoving and shouldering, and a great clamor. Everybody wanted to buy and to be served first. And as the excitement grew, Rasmunsen cooled down. This would never do. There must be something behind the fact of their buying so eagerly. It would be wiser if he rested first and sized up the market. Perhaps eggs were worth two dollars apiece. Anyway, whenever he wished to sell, he was sure of a dollar and a half. "Stop!" he cried, when a couple of hundred had been sold. "No more now. I'm played out. I've got to get a cabin, and then you can come and see me.”
“没错啊。我听明白了。来两打好了。金子给你。”那人摸出一个很上档次的装金子的袋子，大小跟一根小香肠差不多，他就那么大大咧咧地拿袋子敲着舵杆。拉斯马森觉得胃的深处有一种奇怪的颤动，鼻孔发痒，真想坐下来哭一场。一群好奇的、睁大眼睛的人围拢来，个个都吵着要买鸡蛋。他没有天平，可是那个穿熊皮大衣的人很快弄了一架来，还在他分发鸡蛋的时候殷勤地帮他称金子。不一会儿他身边就围满了人，摩肩接踵，大喊大叫。人人都想买鸡蛋，而且想第一个买到。要买的人很兴奋，拉斯马森倒冷静下来了。这可不成。他们这么急着要买，背后一定有原因的。不如先歇一歇，估摸一下行情，或许更为明智。说不准鸡蛋能卖到两美元一个呢。反正，只要他愿意卖，肯定能卖到一点五美元一个。“停！”他大喊一声，这时候已经卖出去了两百个蛋。“不卖了。我累了。我得找个屋子住下，你们可以上那儿来找我。”
A groan went up at this, but the man with the bearskin coat approved. Twenty-four of the frozen eggs went rattling in his capacious pockets and he didn't care whether the rest of the town ate or not. Besides, he could see Rasmunsen was on his last legs.
一听这话，大家开始抱怨起来，但是穿熊皮大衣的人倒很赞成。他的大口袋里已经骨碌碌滚进了二十四个冻鸡蛋，他才不管城里其他的人吃不吃得上东西。而且，他也看出拉斯马森确实是撑不下去了。
"There's a cabin right around the second corner from the Monte Carlo," he told him—“the one with the sody-bottle window. It ain't mine, but I've got charge of it. Rents for ten a day and cheap for the money. You move right in, and I'll see you later. Don't forget the sody-bottle window.”
“从蒙特卡洛街过去第二个路口就有一间屋子，”他告诉拉斯马森，“屋子的窗户是草泥做的。屋子不是我的，不过归我管。房租十美元一天，够便宜的了。你现在就去吧，一会儿我去找你。别忘了，草泥做的窗户。”
"Tra-la-loo!" he called back a moment later. "I'm goin' up the hill to eat eggs and dream of home.”
“哎哎哎！”过了一会了，他又回头喊道，“我要到山上吃鸡蛋，梦回家乡去咯。”
On his way to the cabin, Rasmunsen recollected he was hungry and bought a small supply of provisions at the N. A. T. & T. store—also a beefsteak at the butcher shop and dried salmon for the dogs. He found the cabin without difficulty and left the dogs in the harness while he started the fire and got the coffee under way.
在去找房子的路上，拉斯马森想起肚子饿了，就去北美贸易运输公司的铺子里买了一点食物，到肉店买了块牛排和一些喂狗的鲑鱼干。他毫不费劲就找到了那间屋子，还没来得及把狗从索具上卸下来，就生起火，煮起了咖啡。
"A dollar'n a half apiece—one thousand dozen—eighteen thousand dollars!”He kept muttering it to himself, over and over, as he went about his work.
“一个一块五——一千打——就是一万八千美元！”他一面煮着咖啡，一面跟自己一遍又一遍地说着这句话。
As he flopped the steak into the frying-pan the door opened. He turned. It was the man with the bearskin coat. He seemed to come in with determination, as though bound on some explicit errand, but as he looked at Rasmunsen an expression of perplexity came into his face.
他刚把牛排扔进煎锅，门让人给打开了。他扭头一看，原来是那个穿熊皮大衣的人。他进来的样子很坚决，好像确实有什么事，但他一看到拉斯马森，脸上现出一种很犹疑的神情。
"I say—now I say—” he began, then halted.
“喂，喂，我说啊——”他刚开了口，又不说了。
Rasmunsen wondered if he wanted the rent.
拉斯马森想他是不是来要房租的。
"I say, damn it, you know, them eggs is bad."
“我说，倒霉催的，那些个鸡蛋都是坏的！”
Rasmunsen staggered. He felt as though some one had struck him an astounding blow between the eyes. The walls of the cabin reeled and tilted up. He put out his hand to steady himself and rested it on the stove. The sharp pain and the smell of the burning flesh brought him back to himself.
拉斯马森身子一晃。他觉得就像有人照着他眉心狠狠地来了一拳。小屋的墙开始旋转、倾斜。他伸出手去想撑住自己，却把手放到了炉子上。一阵剧痛和烧焦的肉味终于让他恢复了意识。
"I see," he said slowly, fumbling in his pocket for the sack. "You want your money back."
“明白了，”他慢慢地说着，把手伸进口袋去掏那袋金子。“你想把钱拿回去是吧。”
"It ain't the money," the man said, "but hadn't you got any eggs—good ?”
“不是钱的事儿，”男子说，“你还有蛋吗？好的蛋？”
Rasmunsen shook his head. "You'd better take the money.”
拉斯马森摇了摇头。“你还是把钱拿回去吧。”
But the man refused and backed away. "I'll come back," he said, "when you've taken stock, and get what's comin’.”
可是那人不肯要，后退了几步。“我还会来的，”他说，“等你的货到了，我再来买新的。”
Rasmunsen rolled the chopping-block into the cabin and carried in the eggs. He went about it quite calmly. He took up the hand-axe, and, one by one, chopped the eggs in half. These halves he examined care-fully and let fall to the floor. At first he sampled from the different cases, then deliberately emptied one case at a time. The heap on the floor grew larger. The coffee boiled over and the smoke of the burning beefsteak filled the cabin. He chopped steadfastly and monotonously till the last case was finished.
拉斯马森把劈柴用的石墩滚进屋里，然后把鸡蛋都搬了进去。他非常镇静地做着这一切。他拿起手斧，一个一个地把鸡蛋劈成两半。这些劈开的蛋他都仔细地检查过，然后扔到地上。起初，他只是从各个蛋箱挑几个出来看看，到后来干脆就整箱整箱地劈开。地上那滩鸡蛋越积越多。咖啡煮过了头，焦糊的牛排冒出烟来，充满了整个屋子。他就这样坚定而单调地劈着，直到劈完了最后一箱鸡蛋。
Somebody knocked at the door, knocked again, and let himself in.
有人来敲门，又敲了几下，然后就自个儿进来了。
"What a mess!" he remarked, as he paused and surveyed the scene.
“真乱呀！”他说了一句，同时停下来看看是什么情形。
The severed eggs were beginning to thaw in the heat of the stove, and a miserable odor was growing stronger.
敲开的鸡蛋被炉子的热气一蒸，全都化开了，一股恶臭愈发浓烈。
"Must a-happened on the steamer," he suggested.
“一定是在轮船上就弄坏了。”他帮忙分析道。
Rasmunsen looked at him long and blankly.
拉斯马森茫然地望着他，望了很长时间。
"I'm Murray, Big Jim Murray, everybody knows me," the man volunteered. "I'm just hearin' your eggs is rotten, and I'm offerin' you two hundred for the batch. They ain't good as salmon, but still they're fair scoffin's for dogs.”
“我叫默里，大吉姆·默里，无人不知，”那人主动自我介绍着。“我刚听说你的鸡蛋坏了，我想出两百美元，全给买下来。虽说比不上鲑鱼，鸡蛋给狗吃还是不赖的。”
Rasmunsen seemed turned to stone. He did not move. "You go to hell," he said passionlessly.
拉斯马森似乎已经变成了石头。他动都没动一下。“你见鬼去吧。”他毫无感情地说。
"Now just consider. I pride myself it's a decent price for a mess like that, and it's better'n nothin’. Two hundred. What you say?”
“想想看嘛。我很够意思啦，这堆臭蛋能卖到这么个价钱，总比啥也没有的强吧。两百美元。你觉得怎么样？”
"You go to hell," Rasmunsen repeated softly, "and get out of here."
“见鬼去吧你，”拉斯马森轻声重复了一遍，“滚出去。”
Murray gaped with a great awe, then went out carefully, backward, with his eyes fixed on the other's face.
默里吓得目瞪口呆，他小心翼翼地倒着退了出来，眼睛始终盯着拉斯马森的脸。
Rasmunsen followed him out and turned the dogs loose. He threw them all the salmon he had bought, and coiled a sled-lashing up in his hand. Then he reentered the cabin and drew the latch in after him. The smoke from the cindered steak made his eyes smart. He stood on the bunk, passed the lashing over the ridge-pole, and measured the swingoff with his eye. It did not seem to satisfy, for he put the stool on the bunk and climbed upon the stool. He drove a noose in the end of the lashing and slipped his head through. The other end he made fast. Then he kicked the stool out from under.
拉斯马森跟着他走了出来，解开了那些狗。他把买来的鲑鱼都扔给了狗，又抓了一根雪橇上的绳子盘在手里。然后他又回到小屋里，转身就把门闩上了。焦干的牛排冒出的烟熏得他的眼睛很难受。他站在铺上，把绳子绕过房梁，然后用眼睛打量着绳圈摆动的幅度。他好像还不大满意，于是搬来一张凳子放在铺上，又爬到凳子上去。他在绳子的一头结了个环，把头伸了进去。绳子的另一头他也扎紧了。接着，他踢开了脚下的凳子。