【荆棘鸟】第四章 11

   帆布水袋给他们解了渴；随后他们卷起烟来。

　　离他们不远的地方，有一棵孤零零的芸香树，拉尔夫神父用烟指了指它。
　　"到那儿去睡觉吧，"地说着，解开了毯子，拾起了马鞍。
　　弗兰克跟着他走到了那棵树下，在澳大利亚的这一地区，普遍认为这是最美丽的树了。树叶浓密，呈浅绿色，树形几乎是正圆形的。叶子离地面很近，连绵羊都能轻而易举地够着，结果，每一棵芸香树的底部都像修剪过的树篱似的边缘平直。要是下起雨来，他们躲在这种树下会比躲在其它任何树下都能得到更好的庇护，因为澳大利亚树木的簇叶一般来说不如潮湿地带的树林长得稠密。
　　"弗兰克，你感到不幸福吧？"拉尔夫神父叹了口气躺下来，又卷了一支烟，问道。
　　弗兰克在离他几英尺的地方转过身来，疑虑重重地望着他。"什么是幸福呢？"
　　"眼下，你父亲和你弟弟是幸福的。可你、你母亲和你妹妹不幸福，你不喜欢澳大利亚吗？"
　　"我不喜欢这个地方。我想到悉尼去。在那儿兴许能有机会干出点名堂来。"
　　"悉尼吗？那是个藏污纳垢的地方。"拉尔夫神父笑了笑。
　　"我不在乎！在这儿，我还不是跟在新西兰一样被钉得死死的。我没法摆脱开他。"
　　"他？"
　　可是，弗兰克是无意中溜出口的，因此不愿再多说了。他躺了下来。望着头顶的树叶。
　　"你多大了，弗兰克？"
　　"二十一。"
　　"噢，这么大了！你离开过家里人吗？"
　　"没有。"
　　"你去跳过舞，交过女朋友吗？"
　　"没有。"弗兰克不想和他深谈自己的事。
　　"那他留你不会太久了。"
　　"他要把我拴到死。"
　　拉尔夫神父打了个呵欠，定下心来睡觉。"晚安，"他说道。
　　早晨，云层压得愈加低了，但是整个白天雨却没有下下来，他们把第二个围栏也清完了。从德罗海达的东北到西南有一条不高的山脊，牲畜全部都集中到了这一带的围栏里。要是小河和巴温河的水涨过河槽的话，在这里还可以找到更高一些的地面。
　　天快黑的时候，雨下来了。这时，弗兰克和神父正匆忙地往牧羊工头屋下那条河中可以涉水而过的地方紧赶着。
　　"现在担心跑垮了马是没用的！
 

Thirst was slaked 1 from a canvas water bag, then cigarettes rolled.
  A lone 2 wilga tree stood nearby; Father Ralph indicated it with his cigarette.
  "That's the spot to sleep," he said, unstrapping his blanket and picking up his saddle.
  Frank followed him to the tree, commonly held the most beautiful in this part of
Australia. Its leaves were dense 4 and a pale lime green, its shape almost perfectly 5 rounded.
The foliage 6 grew so close to the ground that sheep could reach it easily, the result being
that every wilga bottom was mown as straight as a topiary hedge. If the rain began they
would have more shelter under it than any other tree, for Australian trees were generally
thinner of foliage than the trees of wetter lands.
  "You're not happy, Frank, are you?" Father Ralph asked, lying down with a sigh and
rolling another smoke.
  From his position a couple of feet away Frank turned to look at him suspiciously. "What's happy?"
  "At the moment, your father and brothers. But not you, not your mother, and not your
sister. Don't you like Australia?"
  "Not this bit of it. I want to go to Sydney. I might have a chance there to mak something of myself."
  "Sydney, eh? It's a den 3 of iniquity 7." Father Ralph was smiling. "I don't care! Out here
I'm stuck the same way I was in New Zealand; I can't get away from him."
  "Him?"
  But Frank had not meant to say it, and would say no more. He lay looking up at the
leaves.
  "How old are you, Frank?" "Twenty-two." "Oh, yes! Have you ever been away from your people?"
  No.
  "Have you even been to a dance, had a girlfriend?" "No." Frank refused to give him his title.
  "Then he'll not hold you much longer."
  "He'll hold me until I die."
  Father Ralph yawned, and composed himself for sleep. "Good night," he said. In the
morning the clouds were lower, but the rain held off all day and they got the second
paddock cleared. A slight ridge 8 ran clear across Drogheda from northeast to southwest; it was in these paddocks the stock were concentrated, where they had higher ground to seek if the water rose above the escarpments of the creek 9 and the Barwon.
  The rain began almost on nightfall, as Frank and the priest hurried at a fast trot 10 toward
the creek ford 11 below the head stockman's house. "No use worrying about blowing them now!"