彩虹鴿出走

By Dhan Gopal Mukerji

But the day after our return Gay-Neck flew away again， in the morning， and failed to put in an appearance later. We waited for him most anxiously during four successive days， and then， unable to bear the suspense any longer， Ghond and I set out in search of him， determined to find him， dead or alive. This time we hired two ponies to take us as far as Sikkim. We had made sure of our path by asking people about Gay-Neck in each village that we had to pass through. Most of them had seen the bird， and some of them gave an accurate description of him： one hunter had seen him in a lamasery nesting next to a swift（雨燕）under the eaves of the house； another， a Buddhist monk， said that he had seen him near their monastery in Sikkim on a riverbank where wild ducks had their nest， and in the latest village that we passed through on the second afternoon we were told that he was seen in the company of a flock of swifts.

Led by such good accounts we reached the highest table-land of Sikkim and were forced to bivouac（露宿）there the third night. Our ponies were sleepy， and so were we， but after what seemed like an hours sleep， I was roused by a tenseness that had fallen upon everything. I found the two beasts of burden standing stiff； in the light of the fire and that of the risen half-moon I saw that their ears were raised tensely in the act of listening carefully. Even their tails did not move. I too listened intently. There was no doubt that the silence of the night was more than mere stillness； stillness is empty， but the silence that beset us was full of meaning， as if a God， shed with moonlight， was walking so close that if I were to put out my hand I could touch his garment.

Just then the horses moved their ears as if to catch the echo of a sound that had moved imperceptibly（察覺不到地）through the silence. The great deity had gone already； now a queer sensation of easing the tense atmosphere set in. One could feel even the faintest shiver of the grass， but that too was momentary； the ponies now listened for a new sound from the north. They were straining every nerve in the effort. At last even I could hear it. Something like a child yawning in his sleep became audible. Stillness again followed. Then a sighing sound， long drawn out， ran through the air， and sank lower and lower， like a thick green leaf slowly sinking through calm water. Then rose a murmur on the horizon as if someone were praying against the skyline. About a minute later the horses relaxed their ears and switched their tails， and I， too， felt myself at ease. Lo！ thousands of geese were flying through the upper air. They were at least four thousand feet above us， but all the same the ponies had heard their coming long before I did.

The flight of the geese told us that dawn was at hand， and I sat up and watched. The stars set one by one. The ponies began to graze（吃草）. I gave them more rope； now that the night had passed， they did not need to be tied so close to the fire.

In another ten minutes the intense stillness of the dawn held all things in its grip and that had its effect on our two beasts. This time I could clearly see both of them lifting their heads and listening. What sounds were they trying to catch？ I did not have long to wait. In a tree not far off a bird shook itself； then another did the same thing， on another bough. One of them sang. It was a song-sparrow， and its cry roused all nature. Other song-sparrows trilled（發(fā)出顫音）； then other birds， and still others！ By now shapes and colours were coming to light with blinding rapidity. Thus passed the short tropical twilight and Ghond got up to say his prayers.

That day our wanderings brought us to the lamasery near Singalila of which I have spoken before. The lamas were glad to give us all the news of Gay-Neck. They informed me that the previous afternoon Gay-Neck and the flock of swifts who nested under the eaves of the monastery had flown southwards.

Again with the blessings of the lamas we said farewell to their hospitable serai（客棧）， and set out on Gay-Necks trail. The mountains burned like torches behind us as we bestowed on them our last look. Before us lay the autumn-tinted woods glimmering in gold， purple， green and cerise（櫻桃色，鮮紅色）.

然而，我們回家后的第二天清晨，彩虹鴿又飛走了，此后再沒露面。在接下來的四天里，我們火急火燎地等著他。后來，因為再也無法忍受這種焦慮，剛德和我便出發(fā)去尋找他，決定無論是死是活都要找到他。于是，我們租了兩匹小馬，一路騎到了錫金。每經(jīng)過一個村莊，我們都要向人們打聽是否見到過彩虹鴿，以確保我們的行動路線。大多數(shù)人都見過他，其中還有些人準(zhǔn)確描述了他的樣子：一個獵人見過他在喇嘛廟的屋檐下休息，在一只雨燕旁邊搭窩；一個和尚說他看見彩虹鴿在錫金他們寺院附近的河岸上，那里有一群野鴨筑巢。第二天下午，在我們經(jīng)過前一個村莊的時候，有人告訴我們說彩虹鴿跟一群雨燕在一起。

根據(jù)這些可靠消息，我們在第三天夜里到達(dá)錫金最高的臺地，并且只好露宿在那里。兩匹小馬昏昏欲睡，我們也十分困倦，但好像剛睡一個小時，我就被一種籠罩一切的緊張氣氛驚醒了。我看到兩匹小馬僵立在那里；在火光和升起的半月的光亮中，我看見他們緊張地豎起耳朵，正在側(cè)耳傾聽，連尾巴都一動不動。我也聚精會神地傾聽。毫無疑問，夜晚的寂靜不僅僅是單純的靜止；靜止是空的，但我們四周的寂靜卻充滿了含義，就像披著月光的神靈向我們走近，仿佛我一伸出手，就能摸到他的衣服。

正在這時，兩匹小馬動了動耳朵，好像要捕捉一種聲音的回響，那聲音穿過寂靜，讓人很難察覺。神靈已經(jīng)離去；現(xiàn)在有了一種緩和緊張氣氛的奇異感覺。我們甚至能感受到小草最輕微的顫動，但那也是暫時的。此刻，小馬又傾聽起從北方傳來的新的聲音。他們正努力繃緊每一根神經(jīng)。最后，就連我也聽到了，那聲音聽上去像睡夢中的小孩子在打哈欠，非常清晰，隨后又消失了。接著，一陣拖長的嘆息聲劃過空中，然后聲音越來越低，猶如一片厚厚的綠葉緩慢沉入平靜的水中。這時候，地平線上傳來一陣低語聲，仿佛有人正對著天際線祈禱。大約一分鐘后，兩匹小馬放松了繃緊的耳朵，擺動起尾巴，我自己也感到輕松自在了。瞧！幾千只大雁正飛過高空。他們距我們至少有四千英尺高，但仍舊是還沒等我聽到，小馬就聽到了他們飛來的聲音。

大雁飛過，表示黎明就要來了。我坐起來觀望。星星一個接一個地沉落了。兩匹小馬開始吃草。我給他們放松了些韁繩；既然夜晚已經(jīng)過去，就不必把他們拴得離火邊那么近了。

在接下來的十分鐘里，黎明的極度寂靜掌控著所有的一切，我們的兩匹馬也受到了影響。這一次，我可以清晰地看到他們倆又抬起頭在傾聽。他們在極力捕捉什么聲音呢？沒等多久我就知道了。只見不遠(yuǎn)處的一棵樹上有一只小鳥在晃動；接著，另一只鳥也在另一根粗枝上晃動。其中一只在歌唱。那是一只歌雀，他的叫聲喚醒了萬物。其他歌雀也鳴唱了起來；隨后，其他鳥兒都爭先恐后地鳴唱了起來！于是，形形色色的東西都飛快地顯露了出來。自此，短暫的熱帶黎明過去了，剛德站起來，開始禱告。

那天，我們走著走著，就到了我先前說過的新格里拉附近的那座喇嘛廟。喇嘛們很樂意給我們提供關(guān)于彩虹鴿所有的消息。他們告訴我說，前一天下午，彩虹鴿和那群住在喇嘛廟屋檐下的雨燕一起向南飛走了。

我們帶著喇嘛們的祝福，告別熱情友好的“客?！保忠淮翁ど狭俗穼げ屎瑛澋穆贸獭Ｎ覀冏詈蠡赝切┥綍r，只見它們在我們身后像火炬般燃燒。我們面前是一片秋色盡染的樹林，閃動著金色、紫色、綠色和鮮紅色的光芒。