sk.thegunslinger-第15部分

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ng　of　two　of　these　abstruse　cracks；　a　thin　spill　of　sand　was　running；　as　if　something　on　the　other　side　was　digging　itself　through　with　slobbering；　agonized　intensity。
The　groaning　rose　and　fell；　being　louder；　until　the　whole　cellar　was　full　of　the　sound；　an　abstract　noise　of　ripping　pain　and　dreadful　effort。
〃e　up！〃　Jake　screamed。　〃O　Jesus；　mister；　e　up！〃
〃Go　away；〃　the　gunslinger　said　calmly。
〃e　up！〃　Jake　screamed　again。
The　gunslinger　did　not　answer。　He　pulled　leather　with　his　right　hand。
There　was　a　hole　in　the　wall　now；　a　hole　as　big　as　a　coin。　He　could　hear；　through　the　curtain　of　his　own　terror；　Jake's　pattering　feet　as　the　boy　ran。　Then　the　spill　of　sand　stopped。　The　groaning　ceased；　but　there　was　a　sound　of　steady；　labored　breathing。
〃Who　are　you？〃　The　gunslinger　asked。
No　answer。
And　in　the　High　Speech；　his　voice　filling　with　the　old　thunder　of　mand；　Roland　demanded：　〃Who　are　you；　Demon？　Speak；　if　you　would　speak。　My　time　is　short；　my　hands　lose　patience。〃
〃Go　slow；〃　a　dragging；　clotted　voice　said　from　within　the　wall。　And　the　gunslinger　felt　the　dreamlike　terror　deepen　and　grow　almost　solid。　It　was　the　voice　of　Alice；　the　woman　he　had　stayed　with　in　the　town　of　Tull。　But　she　was　dead；　he　had　seen　her　go　down　himself；　a　bullet　hole　between　her　eyes。　Fathoms　seemed　to　swim　by　his　eyes；　descending。　〃Go　slow　past　the　Drawers；　gunslinger。　While　you　travel　with　the　boy；　the　man　in　black　travels　with　your　soul　in　his　pocket。〃
〃What　do　you　mean？　Speak　on！〃
But　the　breathing　was　gone。
The　gunslinger　stood　for　a　moment；　frozen；　and　then　one　of　the　huge　spiders　dropped　on　his　arm　and　scrambled　frantically　up　to　his　shoulder。　With　an　involuntary　grunt　he　brushed　it　away　and　got　his　feet　moving。　He　did　not　want
To　do　it；　but　custom　was　strict；　inviolable。　The　dead　from　the　dead；　as　the　old　proverb　has　it；　only　a　corpse　may　speak。　He　went　to　the　hole　and　punched　at　it。　The　sandstone　crumbled　easily　at　the　edges；　and　with　a　bare　stiffening　of　muscles；　he　thrust　his　hand　through　the　wall。
And　touched　something　solid；　with　raised　and　fretted　knobs。　He　drew　it　out。　He　held　a　jawbone；　rotted　at　the　far　hinge。　The　teeth　leaned　this　way　and　that。
〃All　right；〃　he　said　softly。　He　thrust　it　rudely　into　his　back　pocket　and　went　back　up　the　ladder；　carrying　the　last　cans　awkwardly。　He　left　the　trapdoor　open。　The　sun　would　get　in　and　kill　the　spiders。
Jake　was　halfway　across　the　stable　yard；　cowering　on　the　cracked；　rubbly　hardpan。　He　screamed　when　he　saw　the　gunslinger；　backed　away　a　step　or　two；　and　then　ran　to　him；　crying。
〃I　thought　it　got　you；　that　it　got　you；　I　thought　〃
〃It　didn't。〃　He　held　the　boy　to　him；　feeling　his　face；　hot　against　his　chest；　and　his　hands；　dry　against　his　ribcage。　It　occurred　to　him　later　that　this　was　when　he　began　to　love　the　boy　　which　was；　of　course；　what　the　man　in　black　must　have　planned　all　along。
〃Was　it　a　demon？〃　The　voice　was　muffled。
〃Yes。　A　speaking…demon。　We　don't　have　to　go　back　there　anymore。　e　on。〃
They　went　to　the　stable；　and　the　gunslinger　made　a　rough　pack　from　the　blanket　he　had　slept　under　　it　was　hot　and　prickly；　but　there　was　nothing　else。　That　done；　he　filled　the　waterbags　from　the　pump。
〃You　carry　one　of　the　waterbags；〃　the　gunslinger　said。　〃Wear　it　around　your　shoulders　　like　a　fakir　carries　his　snake。　See？〃
〃Yes。〃　The　boy　looked　up　at　him　worshipfully。　He　slung　one　of　the　bags。
〃Is　it　too　heavy？〃
〃No。　It's　fine。〃
〃Tell　me　the　truth；　now。　I　can't　carry　you　if　you　get　a　sunstroke。〃
〃I　won't　have　a　sunstroke。　I'll　be　okay。〃
The　gunslinger　nodded。
〃We're　going　to　the　mountains；　aren't　we？〃
〃Yes。〃
They　walked　out　into　the　steady　smash　of　the　sun。　Jake；　his　head　as　high　as　the　swing　of　the　gunslinger's　elbows；　walked　to　his　right　and　a　little　ahead；　the　rawhide…wrapped　ends　of　the　waterbag　hanging　nearly　to　his　shins。　The　gunslinger　had　crisscrossed　two　more　waterbags　across　his　shoulders　and　carried　the　sling　of　food　in　his　armpit；　his　left　arm　holding　it　against　his　body。
They　passed　through　the　far　gate　of　the　way　station　and　found　the　blurred　ruts　of　the　stage　track　again。　They　had　walked　perhaps　fifteen　minutes　when　Jake　turned　around　and　waved　at　the　two　buildings。　They　seemed　to　huddle　in　the　titanic　space　of　the　desert。
〃Goodbye！〃　Jake　cried。　〃Goodbye！〃
They　walked。　The　stage　track　breasted　a　frozen　sand　drumlin；　and　when。　the　gunslinger　looked　around；　the　way　station　was　gone。　Once　again　there　was　the　desert；　and　that　only。
They　were　three　days　out　of　the　way　station；　the　mountains　were　deceptively　clear　now。　They　could　see　the　rise　of　the　desert　into　foothills；　the　first　naked　slopes；　the　bedrock　bursting　through　the　skin　of　the　earth　in　sullen；　eroded　triumph。　Further　up；　the　land　gentled　off　briefly　again；　and　for　the　first　time　in　months　or　years　the　gunslinger　could　see　green　　real；　living　green。　Grass；　dwarf　spruces；　perhaps　even　willows；　all　fed　by　snow　runoff　from　further　up。
Beyond　that　the　rock　took　over　again；　rising　in　cyclopean；　tumbled　splendor　to　the　blinding　snowcaps。　Off　to　the　left；　a　huge　slash　showed　the　way　to　the　smaller；　eroded　sandstone　cliffs　and　mesas　and　buttes　on　the　far　side。　This　draw　was　obscured　in　the　almost　continual　gray　membrane　of　showers。　At　night；　Jake　would　sit　fascinated　for　the　few　minutes　before　he　fell　into　sleep；　watching　the　brilliant　swordplay　of　the　far…off　lightning；　white　and　purple；　startling　in　the　clarity　of　the　night　air。
The　boy　was　fine　on　the　trail。　He　was　tough；　but　more　than　that；　he　seemed　to　fight　exhaustion　with　a　calm　and　professional　reservoir　of　will　which　the　gunslinger　fully　appreciated。　He　did　not　talk　much　and　he　did　not　ask　questions；　not　even　about　the　jawbone；　which　the　gunslinger　turned　over　and　over　in　his　hands　during　his　evening　smoke。　He　caught　a　sense　that　the　boy　felt　highly　flattered　by　the　gunslinger's　panionship　　perhaps　even　exalted　by　it　　and　this　disturbed　him。　The　boy　had　been　placed　in　his　path　　While　you　travel　with　the　boy；　the　man　in　black　travels　with　your　soul　in　his　pocket　　and　the　fact　that　Jake　was　not　slowing　him　down　only　opened　the　way　to　more　sinister　possibilities。
They　passed　the　symmetrical　campfire　leavings　of　the　man　in　black　at　regular　intervals；　and　it　seemed　to　the　gunslinger　that　these　leavings　were　much　fresher　now。　On　the　third　night；　the　gunslinger　was　sure　that　he　could　see　the　distant　spark　of　another　campfire；　somewhere　in　the　first　rising　swell　of　the　foothills。
Near　two　o'clock　on　the　fourth　day　out　from　the　way　station；　Jake　reeled　and　almost　fell。
〃Here；　sit　down；〃　the　gunslinger　said。
〃No；　I'm　okay。〃
〃Sit　down。〃
The　boy　sat　obediently。　The　gunslinger　squatted　close　by；　so　Jake　would　be　in　his　shadow。
〃Drink。〃
〃I'm　not　supposed　to　until　　〃
〃Drink。〃
The　boy　drank；　three　swallows。　The　gunslinger　wet　the　tail　of　the　blanket；　which　was　lighter　now；　and　applied　the　damp　fabric　to　the　boy's　wrists　and　forehead；　which　were　fever…dry。
〃From　now　on　we　rest　every　afternoon　at　this　time。　Fifteen　minutes。　Do　you　want　to　sleep？〃
〃No。〃　The　boy　looked　at　him　with　shame。　The　gunslinger　looked　back　blandly。　In　an　abstracted　way　he　withdrew　one　of　the　bullets　from　his　belt　and　began　to　twirl　it　between　his　fingers。　The　boy　watched；　fascinated。
〃That's　neat；〃　he　said。
The　gunslinger　nodded。　〃Sure　it　is。〃　he　paused。　〃When　I　was　your　age；　I　lived　in　a　walled　city；　did　I　tell　you　that？〃
The　boy　shook　his　head　sleepily。
〃Sure。　And　there　was　an　evil　man　　〃
〃The　priest？〃
〃No；〃　the　gunslinger　said；　〃but　the　two　of　them　had　some　relationship；　I　think　now。　Maybe　even　half…brothers。　Marten　was　a　wizard。。。　like　Merlin。　Do　they　tell　of　Merlin　where　you　e　from；　Jake？〃
〃Merlin　and　Arthur　and　the　knights　of　the　round　table；〃　Jake　said　dreamily。
The　gunslinger　felt　a　nasty　jolt　go　through　him。　〃Yes；〃　he　said。　〃I　was　very　young；　。。。〃
But　the　boy　was　asleep　sitting　up；　his　hands　folded　neatly　in　his　lap。
〃When　I　snap　my　fingers；　you'll　wake　up。　You'll　be　rested　and　fresh。　Do　you　understand？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Lay　over；　then。〃
The　gunslinger　got　makings　from　his　poke　and　rolled　a　cigarette。　There　was　something　missing。　He　searched　for　it　in　his　diligent；　careful　way　and　located　it。　The　missing　thing　was　that　maddening　sense　of　hurry；　the　feeling　that　he　might　be