湯姆歷險(xiǎn)記Chapter 16 初學(xué)抽煙——“丟了小刀”

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
   
      
        Chapter 16
      
      
        
            
      
   
    AFTER dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for turtle eggs on the bar. They
    went about poking sticks into the sand, and when they found a soft place they went down on
    their knees and dug with their hands. Sometimes they would take fifty or sixty eggs out of
    one hole. They were perfectly round white things a trifle smaller than an English walnut.
    They had a famous fried-egg feast that night, and another on Friday morning.

    After breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, and chased each other
    round and round, shedding clothes as they went, until they were naked, and then continued
    the frolic far away up the shoal water of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter
    tripped their legs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun. And
    now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each other's faces with their
    palms, gradually approaching each other, with averted faces to avoid the strangling
    sprays, and finally gripping and struggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and
    then they all went under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing,
    sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time.

    When they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on the dry, hot sand, and
    lie there and cover themselves up with it, and by and by break for the water again and go
    through the original performance once more. Finally it occurred to them that their naked
    skin represented flesh-colored "tights" very fairly; so they drew a ring in the
    sand and had a circus -- with three clowns in it, for none would yield this proudest post
    to his neighbor.

    Next they got their marbles and played "knucks" and "ring-taw" and
    "keeps" till that amusement grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had another swim, but
    Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking off his trousers he had kicked his
    string of rattlesnake rattles off his ankle, and he wondered how he had escaped cramp so
    long without the protection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he
    had found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to rest. They gradually
    wandered apart, dropped into the "dumps," and fell to gazing longingly across
    the wide river to where the village lay drowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing
    "BECKY" in the sand with his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with
    himself for his weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. He
    erased it once more and then took himself out of temptation by driving the other boys
    together and joining them.

    But Joe's spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was so homesick that he
    could hardly endure the misery of it. The tears lay very near the surface. Huck was
    melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted, but tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which
    he was not ready to tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon, he
    would have to bring it out. He said, with a great show of cheerfulness:

    "I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll explore it again.
    They've hid treasures here somewhere. How'd you feel to light on a rotten chest full of
    gold and silver -- hey?"

    But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply. Tom tried one or
    two other seductions; but they failed, too. It was discouraging work. Joe sat poking up
    the sand with a stick and looking very gloomy. Finally he said:

    "Oh, boys, let's give it up. I want to go home. It's so lonesome."

    "Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by," said Tom. "Just think of the
    fishing that's here."

    "I don't care for fishing. I want to go home."

    "But, Joe, there ain't such another swimming-place anywhere."

    "Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when there ain't
    anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I mean to go home."

    "Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your mother, I reckon."

    "Yes, I DO want to see my mother -- and you would, too, if you had one. I ain't
    any more baby than you are." And Joe snuffled a little.

    "Well, we'll let the cry-baby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck? Poor thing --
    does it want to see its mother? And so it shall. you like it here, don't you, Huck? We'll
    stay, won't we?"

    Huck said, "Y-e-s" -- without any heart in it.

    "I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said Joe, rising.
    "There now!" And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself.

    "Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get
    laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't cry-babies. We'll stay, won't we,
    Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can get along without him, per'aps."

    But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go sullenly on with his
    dressing. And then it was discomforting to see Huck eying Joe's preparations so wistfully,
    and keeping up such an ominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to
    wade off toward the Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink. He glanced at Huck. Huck
    could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said:

    "I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now it'll be
    worse. Let's us go, too, Tom."

    "I won't! You can all go, if you want to. I mean to stay."

    "Tom, I better go."

    "Well, go 'long -- who's hendering you."

    Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. He said:

    "Tom, I wisht you'd come, too. Now you think it over. We'll wait for you when we
    get to shore."

    "Well, you'll wait a blame long time, that's all."

    Huck started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood looking after him, with a strong desire
    tugging at his heart to yield his pride and go along too. He hoped the boys would stop,
    but they still waded slowly on. It suddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely
    and still. He made one final struggle with his pride, and then darted after his comrades,
    yelling:

    "Wait! Wait! I want to tell you something!"

    They presently stopped and turned around. When he got to where they were, he began
    unfolding his secret, and they listened moodily till at last they saw the
    "point" he was driving at, and then they set up a war-whoop of applause and said
    it was "splendid!" and said if he had told them at first, they wouldn't have
    started away. He made a plausible excuse; but his real reason had been the fear that not
    even the secret would keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he had
    meant to hold it in reserve as a last seduction.

    The lads came gayly back and went at their sports again with a will, chattering all the
    time about Tom's stupendous plan and admiring the genius of it. After a dainty egg and
    fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he
    would like to try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had never smoked
    anything before but cigars made of grape-vine, and they "bit" the tongue, and
    were not considered manly anyway.

    Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff, charily, and with
    slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasant taste, and they gagged a little, but Tom
    said:

    "Why, it's just as easy! If I'd a knowed this was all, I'd a learnt long
    ago."

    "So would I," said Joe. "It's just nothing."

    "Why, many a time I've looked at people smoking, and thought well I wish I could
    do that; but I never thought I could," said Tom.

    "That's just the way with me, hain't it, Huck? You've heard me talk just that way
    -- haven't you, Huck? I'll leave it to Huck if I haven't."

    "Yes -- heaps of times," said Huck.

    "Well, I have too," said Tom; "oh, hundreds of times. Once down by the
    slaughter-house. Don't you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, and Johnny Miller, and
    Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don't you remember, Huck, 'bout me saying that?"

    "Yes, that's so," said Huck. "That was the day after I lost a white
    alley. No, 'twas the day before."

    "There -- I told you so," said Tom. "Huck recollects it."

    "I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day," said Joe. "I don't feel
    sick."

    "Neither do I," said Tom. "I could smoke it all day. But I bet you Jeff
    Thatcher couldn't."

    "Jeff Thatcher! Why, he'd keel over just with two draws. Just let him try it once.
    He'd see!"

    "I bet he would. And Johnny Miller -- I wish could see Johnny Miller tackle it
    once."

    "Oh, don't I!" said Joe. "Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn't any more
    do this than nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch him."

    "'Deed it would, Joe. Say -- I wish the boys could see us now."

    "So do I."

    "Say -- boys, don't say anything about it, and some time when they're around, I'll
    come up to you and say, 'Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.' And you'll say, kind of
    careless like, as if it warn't anything, you'll say, 'Yes, I got my old pipe, and another
    one, but my tobacker ain't very good.' And I'll say, 'Oh, that's all right, if it's strong
    enough.' And then you'll out with the pipes, and we'll light up just as ca'm, and then
    just see 'em look!"

    "By jings, that'll be gay, Tom! I wish it was now!"

    "So do I! And when we tell 'em we learned when we was off pirating, won't they
    wish they'd been along?"

    "Oh, I reckon not! I'll just bet they will!"

    So the talk ran on. But presently it began to flag a trifle, and grow disjointed. The
    silences widened; the expectoration marvellously increased. Every pore inside the boys'
    cheeks became a spouting fountain; they could scarcely bail out the cellars under their
    tongues fast enough to prevent an inundation; little overflowings down their throats
    occurred in spite of all they could do, and sudden retchings followed every time. Both
    boys were looking very pale and miserable, now. Joe's pipe dropped from his nerveless
    fingers. Tom's followed. Both fountains were going furiously and both pumps bailing with
    might and main. Joe said feebly:

    "I've lost my knife. I reckon I better go and find it."

    Tom said, with quivering lips and halting utterance:

    "I'll help you. You go over that way and I'll hunt around by the spring. No, you
    needn't come, Huck -- we can find it."

    So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. Then he found it lonesome, and went to find
    his comrades. They were wide apart in the woods, both very pale, both fast asleep. But
    something informed him that if they had had any trouble they had got rid of it.

    They were not talkative at supper that night. They had a humble look, and when Huck
    prepared his pipe after the meal and was going to prepare theirs, they said no, they were
    not feeling very well -- something they ate at dinner had disagreed with them.

    About midnight Joe awoke, and called the boys. There was a brooding oppressiveness in
    the air that seemed to bode something. The boys huddled themselves together and sought the
    friendly companionship of the fire, though the dull dead heat of the breathless atmosphere
    was stifling. They sat still, intent and waiting. The solemn hush continued. Beyond the
    light of the fire everything was swallowed up in the blackness of darkness. Presently
    there came a quivering glow that vaguely revealed the foliage for a moment and then
    vanished. By and by another came, a little stronger. Then another. Then a faint moan came
    sighing through the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleeting breath upon their
    cheeks, and shuddered with the fancy that the Spirit of the Night had gone by. There was a
    pause. Now a weird flash turned night into day and showed every little grass-blade,
    separate and distinct, that grew about their feet. And it showed three white, startled
    faces, too. A deep peal of thunder went rolling and tumbling down the heavens and lost
    itself in sullen rumblings in the distance. A sweep of chilly air passed by, rustling all
    the leaves and snowing the flaky ashes broadcast about the fire. Another fierce glare lit
    up the forest and an instant crash followed that seemed to rend the tree-tops right over
    the boys' heads. They clung together in terror, in the thick gloom that followed. A few
    big rain-drops fell pattering upon the leaves.

    "Quick! boys, go for the tent!" exclaimed Tom.

    They sprang away, stumbling over roots and among vines in the dark, no two plunging in
    the same direction. A furious blast roared through the trees, making everything sing as it
    went. One blinding flash after another came, and peal on peal of deafening thunder. And
    now a drenching rain poured down and the rising hurricane drove it in sheets along the
    ground. The boys cried out to each other, but the roaring wind and the booming
    thunder-blasts drowned their voices utterly. However, one by one they straggled in at last
    and took shelter under the tent, cold, scared, and streaming with water; but to have
    company in misery seemed something to be grateful for. They could not talk, the old sail
    flapped so furiously, even if the other noises would have allowed them. The tempest rose
    higher and higher, and presently the sail tore loose from its fastenings and went winging
    away on the blast. The boys seized each others' hands and fled, with many tumblings and
    bruises, to the shelter of a great oak that stood upon the river-bank. Now the battle was
    at its highest. Under the ceaseless conflagration of lightning that flamed in the skies,
    everything below stood out in clean-cut and shadowless distinctness: the bending trees,
    the billowy river, white with foam, the driving spray of spume-flakes, the dim outlines of
    the high bluffs on the other side, glimpsed through the drifting cloud-rack and the
    slanting veil of rain. Every little while some giant tree yielded the fight and fell
    crashing through the younger growth; and the unflagging thunderpeals came now in
    ear-splitting explosive bursts, keen and sharp, and unspeakably appalling. The storm
    culminated in one matchless effort that seemed likely to tear the island to pieces, burn
    it up, drown it to the tree-tops, blow it away, and deafen every creature in it, all at
    one and the same moment. It was a wild night for homeless young heads to be out in.

    But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weaker and weaker
    threatenings and grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. The boys went back to camp, a
    good deal awed; but they found there was still something to be thankful for, because the
    great sycamore, the shelter of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted by the lightnings, and
    they were not under it when the catastrophe happened.

    Everything in camp was drenched, the camp-fire as well; for they were but heedless
    lads, like their generation, and had made no provision against rain. Here was matter for
    dismay, for they were soaked through and chilled. They were eloquent in their distress;
    but they presently discovered that the fire had eaten so far up under the great log it had
    been built against (where it curved upward and separated itself from the ground), that a
    handbreadth or so of it had escaped wetting; so they patiently wrought until, with shreds
    and bark gathered from the under sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to burn
    again. Then they piled on great dead boughs till they had a roaring furnace, and were
    glad-hearted once more. They dried their boiled ham and had a feast, and after that they
    sat by the fire and expanded and glorified their midnight adventure until morning, for
    there was not a dry spot to sleep on, anywhere around.

    As the sun began to steal in upon the boys, drowsiness came over them, and they went
    out on the sandbar and lay down to sleep. They got scorched out by and by, and drearily
    set about getting breakfast. After the meal they felt rusty, and stiff-jointed, and a
    little homesick once more. Tom saw the signs, and fell to cheering up the pirates as well
    as he could. But they cared nothing for marbles, or circus, or swimming, or anything. He
    reminded them of the imposing secret, and raised a ray of cheer. While it lasted, he got
    them interested in a new device. This was to knock off being pirates, for a while, and be
    Indians for a change. They were attracted by this idea; so it was not long before they
    were stripped, and striped from head to heel with black mud, like so many zebras -- all of
    them chiefs, of course -- and then they went tearing through the woods to attack an
    English settlement.

    By and by they separated into three hostile tribes, and darted upon each other from
    ambush with dreadful war-whoops, and killed and scalped each other by thousands. It was a
    gory day. Consequently it was an extremely satisfactory one.

    They assembled in camp toward supper-time, hungry and happy; but now a difficulty arose
    -- hostile Indians could not break the bread of hospitality together without first making
    peace, and this was a simple impossibility without smoking a pipe of peace. There was no
    other process that ever they had heard of. Two of the savages almost wished they had
    remained pirates. However, there was no other way; so with such show of cheerfulness as
    they could muster they called for the pipe and took their whiff as it passed, in due form.

    And behold, they were glad they had gone into savagery, for they had gained something;
    they found that they could now smoke a little without having to go and hunt for a lost
    knife; they did not get sick enough to be seriously uncomfortable. They were not likely to
    fool away this high promise for lack of effort. No, they practised cautiously, after
    supper, with right fair success, and so they spent a jubilant evening. They were prouder
    and happier in their new acquirement than they would have been in the scalping and
    skinning of the Six Nations. We will leave them to smoke and chatter and brag, since we
    have no further use for them at present.