Finis1

终结

It was the last of Morganson's bacon. In all his life he had never pampered his stomach. In fact, his stomach had been a sort of negligible quantity that bothered him little, and about which he thought less. But now, in the long absence of wonted delights, the keen yearning of his stomach was tickled hugely by the sharp, salty bacon.

这是摩根森的最后一块熏肉了。他这一辈子就从来没有放纵地大吃过。实际上，他的饭量很小，几乎可以忽略不计，他也就很少为吃饭而烦扰，更不会去想什么。可是现在，因为好久都没有那种习以为常的饱腹感了，咸味很重的熏肉勾起了他强烈的食欲。

His face had a wistful, hungry expression. The cheeks were hollow, and the skin seemed stretched a trifle tightly across the cheek-bones. His pale blue eyes were troubled. There was that in them that showed the haunting imminence of something terrible. Doubt was in them, and anxiety and foreboding. The thin lips were thinner than they were made to be, and they seemed to hunger towards the polished frying-pan.

他面露饥色，一脸渴望。脸颊凹陷下去，皮肤似乎贴在颧骨上，稍微有些紧绷。一双淡蓝色的眼睛显得心事重重。他的眼神中透着不安，昭示着有可怕的事情迫近。眼神里有疑惑，有焦虑，也有不祥之兆。原本就薄的嘴唇抿得更薄了，似乎在渴求着擦亮的煎锅。

He sat back and drew forth a pipe. He looked into it with sharp scrutiny, and tapped it emptily on his open palm. He turned the hair-seal tobacco pouch inside out and dusted the lining, treasuring carefully each flake and mite of tobacco that his efforts gleaned. The result was scarce a thimbleful. He searched in his pockets, and brought forward, between thumb and forefinger, tiny pinches of rubbish. Here and there in this rubbish were crumbs of tobacco. These he segregated with microscopic care, though he occasionally permitted small particles of foreign substance to accompany the crumbs to the hoard in his palm. He even deliberately added small, semi-hard woolly fluffs, that had come originally from the coat lining, and that had lain for long months in the bottoms of the pockets.

他坐下来，拿出烟袋。他仔细朝烟袋锅里看了看，将烟灰全都磕在了摊开的手掌里。他将海豹皮的烟袋翻了过来，掸了掸里子，费劲收集到的每一片每一点烟叶他都视如珍宝。可是只弄到了一丁点。他搜了搜兜里，拇指和食指只捏了撮废渣上来。废渣中散布着些烟草屑。他十分仔细地将烟草屑分出来，不过偶尔也会允许手掌里堆聚起一些烟草中混入的杂物。他甚至有意放进去些小小的、半软半硬的羊绒毛，它们起初是从大衣的衬里上掉下来的，在兜底呆了也有好几个月了。

At the end of fifteen minutes he had the pipe part filled. He lighted it from the camp fire, and sat forward on the blankets, toasting his moccasined feet and smoking parsimoniously. When the pipe was finished he sat on, brooding into the dying flame of the fire. Slowly the worry went out of his eyes and resolve came in. Out of the chaos of his fortunes he had finally achieved a way. But it was not a pretty way. His face had become stern and wolfish, and the thin lips were drawn very tightly.

一刻钟后，他终于把烟袋锅装满了。他借着篝火把烟点着，然后往前挪了挪坐到毯子上，一边暖和着鹿皮鞋里的脚，一边吝惜地抽着每一口烟。烟袋抽完了，他依旧坐在那里，看着将要燃尽的篝火陷入了沉思。焦虑慢慢从他眼里散去，取而代之的是下定决心的神情。他命途多舛，可最后还是想法子一路走了下来。可是路途艰辛。他的脸变得严肃凶狠起来，薄薄的嘴唇绷得很紧。

With resolve came action. He pulled himself stiffly to his feet and proceeded to break camp. He packed the rolled blankets, the frying-pan, rifle, and axe on the sled, and passed a lashing around the load. Then he warmed his hands at the fire and pulled on his mittens. He was foot-sore, and limped noticeably as he took his place at the head of the sled. When he put the looped haul-rope over his shoulder, and leant his weight against it to start the sled, he winced. His flesh was galled by many days of contact with the haul-rope.

有了决心就有了行动。他僵硬地站起身来，开始收帐篷。他将卷好的毯子、煎锅、步枪和斧子都收拾到雪橇上，又拿绳子把这堆东西捆好。接着他在篝火上烤了烤手，戴上了连指手套。他的脚很疼，往雪橇前面走的时候跛得厉害。他把绳套背到肩上，俯身向前抻着绳子拉动雪橇时，脸抽动了一下。拉了这么多天绳子，他肩上的肉给磨破了。

The trail led along the frozen breast of the Yukon. At the end of four hours he came around a bend and entered the town of Minto. It was perched on top of a high earth bank in the midst of a clearing, and consisted of a road house, a saloon, and several cabins. He left his sled at the door and entered the saloon.

这条小路顺着结了冰的育空河向前延伸。走了四个钟头后，他拐了个弯，走进了明托镇。镇子就坐落在堤岸高处的一块空地上，客栈酒馆各一家，还有几座小屋。他把雪橇留在门口就进了酒馆。

"Enough for a drink? " he asked, laying an apparently empty gold sack upon the bar.

“够喝一杯的吧？” 他问道，一边把一个装金子的袋子搁在吧台上，但里面明显没什么分量。

The barkeeper looked sharply at it and him, then set out a bottle and a glass.

酒保敏锐地看了看袋子，又看了看他，然后拿出一瓶酒和一只杯子。

"Never mind the dust, " he said.

“金末就算了吧。” 他说。

"Go on and take it, " Morganson insisted.

“你就收下吧。” 摩根森还是坚持。

The barkeeper held the sack mouth downward over the scales and shook it, and a few flakes of gold dust fell out. Morganson took the sack from him, turned it inside out, and dusted it carefully.

酒保把钱袋口朝下，冲着天平的托盘抖了抖，薄薄的一层金末落了出来。摩根森从他手里接过钱袋，把里子翻过来，小心翼翼地抖着金末。

"I thought there was half-a-dollar in it, " he said.

“我还以为里面得有半美元呢。” 他说。

"Not quite, " answered the other, "but near enough. I'll get it back with the down weight on the next comer. "

“不太够，” 另一个人回答说， “不过也差不多了。我会从下个客人那儿补齐的。”

Morganson shyly poured the whisky into the glass, partly filling it.

摩根森不好意思地把威士忌倒进杯子里，还没全倒满。

"Go on, make it a man's drink, " the barkeeper encouraged.

“倒啊，得够个男人喝的呀。” 酒保给他鼓着劲。

Morganson tilted the bottle and filled the glass to the brim. He drank the liquor slowly, pleasuring in the fire of it that bit his tongue, sank hotly down his throat, and with warm, gentle caresses permeated his stomach.

摩根森把瓶子一歪，酒就齐到了杯沿。他慢慢喝着酒，享受着舌头上灼热的感觉，酒火辣辣地穿过喉咙，在胃里弥漫开来，那感觉又温暖又轻柔。

"Scurvy, eh? " the barkeeper asked.

“坏血病，嗯？” 酒保问道。

"A touch of it, " he answered. "But I haven't begun to swell yet. Maybe I can get to Dyea and fresh vegetables, and beat it out. "

“有点儿，” 他回答说， “不过我身子还没肿。或许我能到戴依去弄点儿新鲜蔬菜，治好这病。”

"Kind of all in, I'd say, " the other laughed sympathetically. "No dogs, no money, and the scurvy. I'd try spruce tea if I was you. "

“我得说，你差不多豁上一切了。” 另一个人同情地笑着说， “没有狗，没有钱，还得了坏血病。我要是你就试试云杉茶。”

At the end of half-an-hour, Morganson said good-bye and left the saloon. He put his galled shoulder to the haul-rope and took the river-trail south. An hour later he halted. An inviting swale left the river and led off to the right at an acute angle. He left his sled and limped up the swale for half a mile. Between him and the river was three hundred yards of flat ground covered with cottonwoods. He crossed the cottonwoods to the bank of the Yukon. The trail went by just beneath, but he did not descend to it. South toward Selkirk he could see the trail widen its sunken length through the snow for over a mile. But to the north, in the direction of Minto, a tree-covered out-jut in the bank a quarter of a mile away screened the trail from him.

半个钟头过后，摩根森和酒保道别，离开了酒馆。他把绳套背到磨破了的肩头上，沿着河边的小路往南走。一个钟头后他停了下来。有块洼地引人注目，它位于河的右侧与河道成锐角的方向上。他放下雪橇，跛行了半英里走到洼地那儿。他和河之间有三百码宽的平地，那儿长着一片棉白杨。穿过棉白杨林，他来到育空河的河岸上。小路就在河岸下边，可他没有走下去。朝南面塞尔扣克的方向看去，小路在低洼的雪地中绵延了有一英里多，路面越来越宽。可是在往北通往明托的方向上，在离他四分之一英里远的地方，小路让河岸上突出的一片树丛给挡住了。

He seemed satisfied with the view and returned to the sled the way he had come. He put the haul-rope over his shoulder and dragged the sled up the swale. The snow was unpacked and soft, and it was hard work. The runners clogged and stuck, and he was panting severely ere he had covered the half-mile. Night had come on by the time he had pitched his small tent, set up the sheet-iron stove, and chopped a supply of firewood. He had no candles, and contented himself with a pot of tea before crawling into his blankets.

他对这番景象似乎很满意，接着又按原路回到雪橇那儿。他把绳套背到肩上，拉着雪橇往洼地那里走去。雪并不瓷实，踏上去很软，所以走到那儿不是件容易的事。雪橇的滑板常常被雪塞住不能动弹，还没走半英里他就喘起了粗气。他支好自己的小帐篷，搭起铁皮炉，又劈完了一堆柴火，干完这些后，夜幕已经快要降临了。他没有蜡烛，就怡然自得地喝了壶茶，然后钻进了毯子里。

In the morning, as soon as he got up, he drew on his mittens, pulled the flaps of his cap down over his ears, and crossed through the cottonwoods to the Yukon. He took his rifle with him. As before, he did not descend the bank. He watched the empty trail for an hour, beating his hands and stamping his feet to keep up the circulation, then returned to the tent for breakfast. There was little tea left in the canister-half a dozen drawings at most; but so meagre a pinch did he put in the teapot that he bade fair to extend the lifetime of the tea indefinitely. His entire food supply consisted of half-a-sack of flour and a part-full can of baking powder. He made biscuits, and ate them slowly, chewing each mouthful with infinite relish. When he had had three he called a halt. He debated a while, reached for another biscuit, then hesitated. He turned to the part sack of flour, lifted it, and judged its weight.

一大早，他刚起床就戴上手套，拉下帽檐盖住耳朵，穿过棉白杨林来到了育空河上。他随身带上了步枪。和以前一样，他没有走下河岸。他盯着空荡荡的小路看了有一个钟头，一边不停地搓手跺脚好促进血液循环，之后又回到帐篷去吃早饭。罐里没多少茶叶了--顶多够泡六回的；可他只往茶壶里放了那么一小撮，希望剩下的这些茶叶还够泡无限回。他所有的粮食储备就剩下半袋面粉和大半罐发酵粉了。他做了些点心，慢慢地吃着，每一口都嚼得那么有滋味。吃了三块后他停了下来。他盘算了一会儿，伸手去拿另一块，可又犹豫了。他走到面粉袋那儿，把它提起来掂量了一下有多重。

"I 'm good for a couple of weeks, " he spoke aloud.

“我还能挺两个星期。” 他大声说。

"Maybe three, " he added, as he put the biscuits away.

“或许三个星期。” 他接着说道，一边把点心放好。