布兰迪浅滩

　　贝阿德·泰勒(1825～1878)，1825年出生在宾西法尼亚洲的肯尼特广场，所受教育也很有限，但他从小就显示出了非凡的才能和精力。他四处游历，著文作诗样样精通，文笔流畅优美。本文即选自他的作品《肯尼特的故事》。贝阿德·泰勒于1878年去世。

　　黑沉沉的夜，似乎没有尽头。吉尔伯特只能靠猜测来辨认地标，因而不得不更多地依赖身下的这匹叫罗杰的马儿对路况的直觉，而不是自己感官的指引。听到远处传来的两三声雄鸡的清啼，他断定时间已是将近午夜。此时雨几乎完全停了。

　　凛冽的寒风刮起来了，坚实的天穹稍微升起了一点。他感觉就像右边的山已经消失，而地平线突然压向了北面。罗杰开始在愈来愈深的水里行进，溅起朵朵水花。不久，夜空中传来轰鸣声，而这声音分明不是风声。

　　这里应该是布兰迪浅滩。河水漫过了广阔的草地，涨势十分凶猛。周围浑浊的河水发出昏暗的微光。很快篱笆就不见了踪影，河水即将没过马腿。

　　但他知道小树林边缘的空地便是浅滩。无论怎样，河堤比后面的草地要略高一些，而且至少到目前为止，他还可以冒下险。浅滩不过 二十码，他完全相信罗杰能够游过去。

　　忠心耿耿的罗杰勇敢地前进着，但是吉尔伯特很快注意到它似乎出了什么毛病。湍急的流水迫使它离开了大路，而它总是不时停下来，显得十分焦急不安。就在前面不远，小树林依稀可见，几分钟后他们就能上岸。

　　那是什么？一种奇怪的窸窣声，像是牛群趟过干草地的声音。即便是疾风也没能遮住这令人战栗的声音！罗杰呼哧呼哧地喷着气，一动不动地站着，四条腿都在打颤，一阵恐惧使吉尔伯特不寒而栗。声音越来越近，很快就变成了狂野的怒吼声，回荡在整个山谷。

　　“水坝！水坝！”吉尔伯特惊叫道，“水坝塌了！”他调转马头，拉紧缰绳，一面用力鞭策着马，一面大声鼓励着它。勇敢的罗杰与洪水作着斗争，但汹涌而至的洪水已经齐了马肚。马在摇晃。一排翻腾的泡沫逼近了他们，可怖的吼声裹住了他们，人和马都被卷进了水中。

　　头几分钟究竟发生了什么，吉尔伯特无论如何都回想不起来了。现在他们淹没在水中，一会儿乘着猛冲向前的浪头，一会儿被折断的树枝末梢钩住，一会儿遭到大坝浮木的推挤，可却好像总是被无情地困在混乱和毁灭的中心。

　　终于他看见他们落在了狂暴的洪水的后面，然而罗杰还在水里挣扎，不时奋力将头伸出水面，同时把水从鼻孔里喷出。它所有想站稳的努力都宣告失败，它浑身的力气几乎都使尽了，除非几分钟之内就能获得救援，否则就没得救了。天是那么暗，水又是那么湍急，怎么才能获救呢？

　　突然罗杰停住了。下面有些什么东西绊住了它，洪水受到阻碍，冲击着人和马。吉尔伯特伸手摸到了粗糙的树皮。他斜身一把抱住了树干，从马鞍上挣脱出来，减轻了负担的罗杰使劲游回到水流中，顿时消失得无影无踪。

　　吉尔伯特勉强看清原来是几根大树干交错盘结在了一起，也许是给插在了河水的某处小礁岛中，最上面的那根斜着伸出了水面。他竭尽全力抵住了拼命想把他卷跑的急流，攀到了足以逃开洪水吞噬的高处，同时又尽量不让树干失去平衡。虽然他仍是半浸在水里，但他终于暂时相对安全了一些，可离最终脱险还很遥远。

　　然而新的危险向他无情地袭来。天气越变越冷，刺骨的寒风已经夹杂着冰霜。一小时后，天边几乎看不见一片云，他只有通过渐渐下沉的月亮才能注意到夜晚的消逝。可此刻的他已经快失去知觉了。

　　月亮西沉，黎明将至，天边开始泛起了鱼肚白。这时，吉尔伯特突然抬起了头。在嘈杂的水声和呼啸的风声之间，他听到了一个熟悉的声音，那是马在嘶叫，尖锐而且刺耳。他挣扎着挺直了身子，看见下面不远处有两个骑马的人正涉水打草地经过。他们忽然停了下来，好像在商议什么，很快又赶上前来。

　　吉尔伯特想呼喊，可是喉咙僵硬，肺部也没力气。马又在嘶叫，这次绝对没错，是罗杰！他大叫了一声——叫声沙哑，异样而不自然。

　　骑马的人听到了他的叫声，立即沿着堤岸往上走，一直走到了他正对面的地方。得救的希望给他的身体带来了生命的震颤，他环顾四周，发现洪水真的退了。

　　“我们没带绳子。”他听见其中的一个人说，“我们怎么才能够得着他呢？”

　　“没有时间回去拿了。”另一个人回答说，“我的马比你的强壮，我到下面的小溪里去，那儿更宽一点，也没有那么深，我再慢慢靠近他。”

　　“可是一匹马又驮不动两个人。”

　　“相信他的马看见我后会跟过去的。”

　　当最后说话的那个人骑马下水的时候，吉尔伯特看见他领着的另一匹马也一同跳进了水里。这是一项十分艰巨而危险的任务，他们开始进入河水的干流，因为是河水的交汇处，所以水面明显变宽了，但水还是没过了马的肚带，流速也很快。

　　有时马失足跌倒在了水里，但是他们还是迎难而上，一英寸一英寸地挪到了离吉尔伯特有六英尺远的地方。看来是不可能再前进一步了。

　　“你会游泳吗？”那人问道。

　　吉尔伯特摇了摇头。接着他叫道：“把罗杰的缰绳扔给我！”

　　那人解开了缰绳，把一头扔给了他。吉尔伯特想努力抓住，但他的手已经冻得麻木了。然而他还是设法挽住了缰绳，然后松开了树干。

　　那人俯身拽住了他的衣领，他感到自己被一只强有力的手提了起来，放到了罗杰的鞍上。由于他体力不支，又四肢僵硬，所以要使身子坐直绝非易事。返回时，尽管对马来说更轻松一些，但因为吉尔伯特没有帮助根本就无法支撑自己，所以也是同样危险。

　　当他们终于上岸时，那人对吉尔伯特说：“你现在安全了。你能活下来真是老天在发慈悲啊！”

　　另外那个骑马人加入了他们的行列，他们缓缓地走过了满是水的草地。他们把自己的斗篷都给吉尔伯特披上，两人一边一个把他小心地扶好。吉尔伯特实在是太累了，他都没有力气问他们是怎么找到他的，或是问他们要带他去哪——他已经麻木得失去了好奇心，甚至连感激都不会了。

　　其中一人拍了拍罗杰的肩膀说：“它才是你的救命恩人，我们是跟着它才找到你的。你想知道是怎么回事吗——三点钟的时候，大概是这个时间吧，我的妻子叫醒了我。‘你听到了吗？’她问。

　　“我听到门前的小路上有一匹马在嘶叫——我说不上来是什么样的叫声，好像它想把屋里的人全叫醒似的。我觉得有些奇怪，于是起身往窗外一瞧，看见它似乎背着一副马鞍。它用蹄子又踏地，又刨地，然后发出了声声嘶叫。

　　“我对我妻子说：‘出事了。’然后穿上衣服出门。马一看见我，就做出了最为奇怪的举动。我心想要是有什么动物想要开口说话的话，它就会是这样。我想去接近它，它却猛然加速，顺着小路跑几步，然后再跑回来，举动十分奇怪。

　　“我走进屋子，弄醒了我的弟弟。随后我们骑马一起动身了。你的马走在前头，每隔一会儿就停下来回头看我们有没有跟上。当我们看到水这么大时，我确实有些犹豫。但是却没有用，你的马催着我们前进，直到找到你为止。以前我从来没有听过这样的怪事，这一辈子都没听说过。”吉尔伯特说不出话，但两颗大大的泪珠在他的眼睛里慢慢凝聚，最后顺着脸颊滚落了下来。两兄弟感受到他的情感，心中也充满感动。

　　在曙光中，他们顶着寒风走了一英里地，终于来到了一座温暖的农舍。两兄弟把他抬下了马鞍，准备立即把他抬到屋子里去，可吉尔伯特还是先倚在罗杰的脖子上，一把搂住它的头，深情地吻着。

　　Brandywine Ford

　　Bayard Taylor was born at Kennett Square, Penn., in 1825. He received a limited school education, but at an early age displayed great energy and talent. He was a great traveler, and a fluent, graceful writer, both of prose and verse.  The following selection is adapted from "The Story of Kennett". He died in 1878.

　　The black, dreary night, seemed interminable. He could only guess, here and there, at a landmark, and was forced to rely more upon Roger's instinct of the road than upon the guidance of his senses. Toward midnight, as he judged, by the solitary crow of a cock, the rain almost entirely ceased。

　　The wind began to blow sharp and keen, and the hard vault of the sky to lift a little. He fancied that the hills on his right had fallen away, and that the horizon was suddenly depressed towards the north. Roger's feet began to splash in constantly deepening water, and presently a roar, distinct from that of the wind, filled the air。

　　It was the Brandywine. The stream had overflowed its broad meadow bottoms, and was running high and fierce beyond its main channel. The turbid waters made a dim, dusky gleam around him; soon the fences disappeared, and the flood reached to his horse's body。

　　But he knew that the ford could be distinguished by the break in the fringe of timber; moreover, that the creek bank was a little higher than the meadows behind it, and so far, at least, he might venture. The ford was not more than twenty yards across, and he could trust Roger to swim that distance。

　　The faithful animal pressed bravely on, but Gilbert soon noticed that he seemed at fault. The swift water had forced him out of the road, and he stopped from time to time, as if anxious and uneasy. The timber could now be discerned, only a short distance in advance, and in a few minutes they would gain the bank。

　　What was that? A strange, rustling, hissing sound, as of cattle trampling through dry reeds — a sound which quivered and shook, even in the breath of the hurrying wind! Roger snorted, stood still, and trembled in every limb; and a sensation of awe and terror struck a chill through Gilbert's heart. The sound drew swiftly nearer, and became a wild, seething roar, filling the whole breadth of the valley。

　　"The dam! The dam!" cried Gilbert, "the dam has given way!" He turned Roger's head, gave him the rein, struck, spurred, cheered, and shouted. The brave beast struggled through the impeding flood, but the advance wave of the coming inundation already touched his side. He staggered; a line of churning foam bore down upon them, the terrible roar was all around and over them, and horse and rider were whirled away。

　　What happened during the first few seconds, Gilbert could never distinctly recall. Now they were whelmed in the water, now riding its careering tide, torn through the tops of brushwood, jostled by floating logs and timbers of the dam, but always, as it seemed, remorselessly held in the heart of the tumult and the ruin。

　　He saw at last that they had fallen behind the furious onset of the flood, but Roger was still swimming with it, desperately throwing up his head from time to time, and snorting the water from his nostrils. All his efforts to gain a foothold failed; his strength was nearly spent, and unless some help should come in a few minutes it would come in vain. And in the darkness, and the rapidity with which they were borne along, how should help come?

　　All at once Roger's course stopped. He became an obstacle to the flood, which pressed him against some other obstacle below, and rushed over horse and rider. Thrusting out his hand, Gilbert felt the rough bark of a tree. Leaning towards it, and clasping the log in his arms, he drew himself from the saddle, while Roger, freed from his burden, struggled into the current and instantly disappeared。

　　As nearly as Gilbert could ascertain, several timbers, thrown over each other, had lodged, probably upon a rocky islet in the stream, the uppermost one projecting slantingly out of the flood. It required all his strength to resist the current which sucked, and whirled, and tugged at his body, and to climb high enough to escape its force, without overbalancing his support. At last, though still half immerged, he found himself comparatively safe for a time, yet as far as ever from a final rescue。

　　Yet a new danger now assailed him, from the increasing cold. There was already a sting of frost, a breath of ice, in the wind. In another hour the sky was nearly swept bare of clouds, and he could note the lapse of the night by the sinking of the moon. But he was by this time hardly in a condition to note anything more。

　　The moon was low in the west, and there was a pale glimmer of the coming dawn in the sky, when Gilbert Potter suddenly raised his head. Above the noise of the water and the whistle of the wind, he heard a familiar sound — the shrill, sharp neigh of a horse. Lifting himself with great exertion, to a sitting posture, he saw two men, on horseback, in the flooded meadow, a little below him. They stopped, seemed to consult, and presently drew nearer。

　　Gilbert tried to shout, but the muscles of his throat were stiff, and his lungs refused to act. The horse neighed again. This time there was no mistake;it was Roger that he heard! Voice came to him, and he cried aloud — a hoarse, strange, unnatural cry。

　　The horsemen heard it, and rapidly pushed up the bank, until they reached a point directly opposite to him. The prospect of escape brought a thrill of life to his frame; he looked around and saw that the flood had indeed fallen。

　　"We have no rope," he heard one of the men say. "How shall we reach him?"

　　"There is no time to get one now," the other answered. "My horse is stronger than yours. I'll go into the creek just below, where it's broader and not so deep, and work my way up to him,"

　　"But one horse can't carry both."

　　"His will follow, be sure, when it sees me."

　　As the last speaker moved away, Gilbert saw a led horse plunging through the water beside the other. It was a difficult and dangerous undertaking. The horseman and the loose horse entered the main stream below, where its divided channel met and broadened, but it was still above the saddle girths, and very swift。

　　Sometimes the animals plunged, losing their foothold; nevertheless, they gallantly breasted the current, and inch by inch worked their way to a point about six feet below Gilbert. It seemed impossible to approach nearer。

　　"Can you swim?" asked the man。

　　Gilbert shook his head. "Throw me the end of Roger's bridle!" he then cried。

　　The man unbuckled the bridle and threw it, keeping the end of the rein in his hand. Gilbert tried to grasp it, but his hands were too numb. He managed, however, to get one arm and his head through the opening, and relaxed his hold on the log。

　　A plunge, and the man had him by the collar. He felt himself lifted by a strong arm and laid across Roger's saddle. With his failing strength and stiff limbs, it was no slight task to get into place; and the return, though less laborious to the horses, was equally dangerous, because Gilbert was scarcely able to support himself without help。

　　"You're safe now," said the man, when they reached the bank, "but it's a downright mercy of God that you're alive!"

　　The other horseman joined them, and they rode slowly across the flooded meadow. They had both thrown their cloaks around Gilbert, and carefully steadied him in the saddle, one on each side. He was too much exhausted to ask how they had found him, or whither they were taking him — too numb for curiosity, almost for gratitude。

　　"Here's your savior!" said one of the men, patting Roger's shoulder. "It was through him that we found you. Do you wish to know how? Well — about three o'clock it was, maybe a little earlier, maybe a little later, my wife woke me up. 'Do you hear that?' she said。

　　"I listened and heard a horse in the lane before the door, neighing, — I can't tell you exactly how it was — as though he would call up the house. It was rather queer, I thought, so I got up and looked out of the window, and it seemed to me he had a saddle on. He stamped, and pawed, and then he gave another neigh, and stamped again。

　　"Said I to my wife, 'There is something wrong here,' and I dressed and went out. When he saw me, he acted in the strangest way you ever saw; thought I, if ever an animal wanted to speak, that animal does。

　　When I tried to catch him, he shot off, ran down the lane a bit, and then came back acting as strangely as ever。

　　"I went into the house and woke up my brother, here, and we saddled our horses and started. Away went yours ahead, stopping every minute to look around and see if we followed. When we came to the water I rather hesitated, but it was of no use; the horse would have us go on and on, till we found you. I never heard of such a thing before, in all my life." Gilbert did not speak, but two large tears slowly gathered in his eyes, and rolled down his cheeks. The men saw his emotion, and respected it。

　　In the light of the cold, keen dawn, they reached a snug farmhouse, a mile from the Brandywine. The men lifted Gilbert from the saddle, and would have carried him immediately into the house, but he first leaned upon Roger's neck, took the faithful creature's head in his arms, and kissed it。