LESSON 60

RIDING ON A SNOWPLOW

乘坐扫雪机

Benjamin Franklin Taylor, 1822-1887, was born at Lowville, New York, and graduated at Madison University, of which his father was president. Here he remained as resident graduate for about five years. His “Attractions of Language” was published in 1845. For many years Mr. Taylor was literary editor of the “Chicago Journal.” He wrote considerably for the magazines, and was the author of many well-known fugitive pieces, both in prose and verse. He also published several books, of which “January and June,” “Pictures in Camp and Field,” “The World on Wheels,” “Old-time Pictures and Sheaves of Rhyme,” “Between the Gates,” and “Songs of Yesterday,” are the best known. In his later years, Mr. Taylor achieved some reputation as a lecturer. His writings are marked by an exuberant fancy.

Did you ever ride on a snowplow? Not the pet and pony of a thing that is attached to the front of an engine, sometimes, like a pilot; but a great two-storied monster of strong timbers, that runs upon wheels of its own, and that boys run after and stare at as they would after and at an elephant. You are snow-bound at Buffalo. The Lake Shore Line is piled with drifts like a surf. Two passenger trains have been half-buried for twelve hours somewhere in snowy Chautauqua. The storm howls like a congregation of Arctic bears. But the superintendent at Buffalo is determined to release his castaways, and clear the road to Erie. He permits you to be a passenger on the great snowplow; and there it is, all ready to drive. Harnessed behind it, is a tandem team of three engines. It does not occur to you that you are going to ride on a steam drill, and so you get aboard.

It is a spacious and timbered room, with one large bull’s eye window,—an overgrown lens. The thing is a sort of Cyclops. There are ropes, and chains, and a windlass. There is a bell by which the engineer of the first engine can signal the plowman, and a cord whereby the plowman can talk back. There are two sweeps, or arms, worked by machinery, on the sides. You ask their use, and the superintendent replies, “When, in a violent shock, there is danger of the monster’s upsetting, an arm is put out, on one side or the other, to keep the thing from turning a complete somersault.” You get one idea, and an inkling of another. So you take out your Accident Policy for three thousand dollars, and examine it. It never mentions battles, nor duels, nor snowplows. It names “public conveyances.” Is a snowplow a public conveyance? You are inclined to think it is neither that nor any other kind that you should trust yourself to, but it is too late for consideration.

You roll out of Buffalo in the teeth of the wind, and the world is turned to snow. All goes merrily. The machine strikes little drifts, and they scurry away in a cloud. The three engines breathe easily; but by and by the earth seems broken into great billows of dazzling white. The sun comes out of a cloud, and touches it up till it out-silvers Potosi. Houses lie in the trough of the sea everywhere, and it requires little imagination to think they are pitching and tossing before your eyes. A great breaker rises right in the way. The monster, with you in it, works its way up and feels of it. It is packed like a ledge of marble. Three whistles! The machine backs away and keeps backing, as a gymnast runs astern to get sea room and momentum for a big jump; as a giant swings aloft a heavy sledge, that it may come down with a heavy blow.

One whistle! You have come to a halt. Three pairs of whistles one after the other! and then, putting on all steam, you make for the drift. The superintendent locks the door, you do not quite understand why, and in a second the battle begins. The machine rocks and creaks in all its joints. There comes a tremendous shock. The cabin is as dark as midnight. The clouds of flying snow put out the day. The labored breathing of the locomotives behind you, the clouds of smoke and steam that wrap you up as in a mantle, the noonday eclipse of the sun, the surging of the ship, the rattling of chains, the creak of timbers as if the craft were aground and the sea getting out of its bed to whelm you altogether, the doubt as to what will come,—all combine to make a scene of strange excitement for a landlubber.

You have made some impression on the breaker, and again the machine backs for a fair start, and then another plunge, and shock, and twilight. And so, from deep cut to deep cut, as if the season had packed all his winter clothes upon the track, until the stalled trains are reached and passed; and then, with alternate storm and calm, and halt and shock, till the way is cleared to Erie.

It is Sunday afternoon, and Erie—“Mad Anthony Wayne’s” old headquarters—has donned its Sunday clothes, and turned out by hundreds to see the great plow come in,—its first voyage over the line. The locomotives set up a crazy scream, and you draw slowly into the depot. The door opened at last, you clamber down, and gaze up at the uneasy house in which you have been living. It looks as if an avalanche had tumbled down upon it,—white as an Alpine shoulder. Your first thought is gratitude that you have made a landing alive. Your second, a resolution that, if again you ride a hammer, it will not be when three engines have hold of the handle!

【中文阅读】

你乘过扫雪机吗？我说的不是前面安个很小的发动机，有时像降落伞的那种东西。而是有两层楼高的由坚硬的木材做成的庞然大怪物，底下安有轮子驱动，男孩子们追着它跑，不错眼珠地盯着它看，就像看一头大象似的。你在布法罗为雪所阻，湖滨道上堆积物如山。在大雪皑皑的肖陶扩湖，两列客车一半被埋在雪地里已经十二个小时了。暴风雪的狂吼声就像北极熊聚在一起发出的声音。但是，布法罗的监管人员决定让那些遭难的人离开这里，于是开始清理通往伊利湖的道路。他允许你作为一名旅客乘坐大扫雪机；一旦准备就绪，就开始出发。扫雪机后面配上马具，成了一架由三个发动机组成的串联式双轮马车。不是说你马上就能骑在一辆蒸汽钻头上，如果那样的话你就登上飞机了。

这是一个宽敞、用木材搭建的房间，有一个大牛眼似的窗子——就像长得过快的眼睛中的水晶体。这个东西有点类似希腊神话中的独眼巨人，有绳子，锁链和绞盘。上面还安有一个铃，系第一台发动机的机械师向驾驶人员发信号用的，而那根细绳是驾驶人员回答用的。在两侧有两个清扫装置，由机械操作。你或许会问这些装置做什么用的，监管人员则回答说，“遇到暴力袭击时，这个怪物存在翻倒的危险，一只机械臂会甩出去，不管甩向哪侧，这个大家伙都会完全翻筋斗的。”听到这儿，你马上就有主意了，暗示另一个想法。就这样，你拿出你的三万美元意外事故保险单，仔细查看。上面从未提及战争、决斗和扫雪机。上面标着“公共交通工具”字样。扫雪机算公共交通工具吗？人们倾向于认为它既不是你相信的那种，也不是你相信的其他种类的交通工具，但是已经来不及细想了。

人们冒着凛冽的寒风离开布法罗，这个世界已经被雪盖住了。所有的一切都很有趣。这台机械推着较小的堆积物，在一片雾霭中急匆匆地前行。三台发动机运行良好；但是不久，大地就掀起一片炫目的巨大白色雾霭。太阳从云彩里闪身出来，将这台扫雪机映得就像波托西银合金一样闪亮。房舍散落在如大海海槽一般的雪地上，真需要发挥一点想象力才能设想出这些房舍似乎在雪地上漂着，映入人们的眼帘。一台很大的断路器横亘在道中央。这个庞然大物从里面看，把道路往上拱起，好像能触摸到似的。整个断路器就像大理石突出的狭长部分。接着传来三声鸣笛！这台机器为了让出地方而后退，一直后退，就像一名体操运动员向后退以便腾出空间做大跳跃动作，也似一位巨人向上托着很重的狭长物体，然后突然向下猛甩。

又一声鸣笛！人们应该停下脚步。三声鸣笛此起彼伏。接下来，蒸汽动力全部启动，人们冲向堆积物。那位监管人员锁上门，人们不明白是怎么回事，刹那间这场战争又重新开始了。这台机器的所有连接处都来回摆动，发出嘎嘎响声，令人不胜恐惧。驾驶室漆黑一片。漫天飞舞的雪花形成的云团好像把整个天空都覆盖住了。人们身后的机车费力地喘着粗气，烟雾和蒸汽组成的云团像披风一样裹着你，中午的太阳暗淡无光，船只踏着波浪，锁链和木材发出吱吱嘎嘎的响声，仿佛船搁浅了，海水漫过堤岸，就要淹没你们似的。这个疑虑好像就要变成现实——所有这一切形成奇特的一幕，令不习水性的“旱鸭子”惶恐不已。

想必你对断路器会留下几分印象，这台机器又向后倒退，准备重新启动，然后又一次猛地颠了一下，令人感到恐惧和目眩。于是开始一遍遍地深挖，仿佛季节已经将所有冬天的行装都堆在了铁轨上，直到失速的火车从此经过。然后，暴风雪和雪过云开交替着，直到通往伊利湖的道路畅通为止。

那是星期日的下午，伊利湖——“疯子安东尼•怀恩”的老巢——已经披上主日礼服，结果数以百计的人看到巨大的扫雪机扑面而至，这是它第一次在这条路线上露面。机车头发出尖厉的叫声，扫雪机徐徐驶进车站。最后，车门打开了，人们吃力地爬下来后举目凝视一直待着的那间很不舒服的座舱。它看上去就像上面发生过大雪崩——白得像阿尔卑斯山的山脊。你第一个念头就是庆幸能活着下来。第二个念头恐怕就是如果再次乘这个铁榔头的话，当三台发动机的手柄合上时，它不会挪地方！