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汤姆历险记Chapter 33 印第安·乔困死山洞

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Chapter 33
      
      
        
            
      
   
    WITHIN a few minutes the news had spread, and a dozen skiff-loads of men were on
    their way to McDougal's cave, and the ferry-boat, well filled with passengers, soon
    followed. Tom Sawyer was in the skiff that bore Judge Thatcher.

    When the cave door was unlocked, a sorrowful sight presented itself in the dim twilight
    of the place. Injun Joe lay stretched upon the ground, dead, with his face close to the
    crack of the door, as if his longing eyes had been fixed, to the latest moment, upon the
    light and the cheer of the free world outside. Tom was touched, for he knew by his own
    experience how this wretch had suffered. His pity was moved, but nevertheless he felt an
    abounding sense of relief and security, now, which revealed to him in a degree which he
    had not fully appreciated before how vast a weight of dread had been lying upon him since
    the day he lifted his voice against this bloody-minded outcast.

    Injun Joe's bowie-knife lay close by, its blade broken in two. The great
    foundation-beam of the door had been chipped and hacked through, with tedious labor;
    useless labor, too, it was, for the native rock formed a sill outside it, and upon that
    stubborn material the knife had wrought no effect; the only damage done was to the knife
    itself. But if there had been no stony obstruction there the labor would have been useless
    still, for if the beam had been wholly cut away Injun Joe could not have squeezed his body
    under the door, and he knew it. So he had only hacked that place in order to be doing
    something -- in order to pass the weary time 每 in order to employ his
    tortured faculties. Ordinarily one could find half a dozen bits of candle stuck around in
    the crevices of this vestibule, left there by tourists; but there were none now. The
    prisoner had searched them out and eaten them. He had also contrived to catch a few bats,
    and these, also, he had eaten, leaving only their claws. The poor unfortunate had starved
    to death. In one place, near at hand, a stalagmite had been slowly growing up from the
    ground for ages, builded by the water-drip from a stalactite overhead. The captive had
    broken off the stalagmite, and upon the stump had placed a stone, wherein he had scooped a
    shallow hollow to catch the precious drop that fell once in every three minutes with the
    dreary regularity of a clock-tick 每 a dessertspoonful once in
    four and twenty hours. That drop was falling when the Pyramids were new; when Troy fell;
    when the foundations of Rome were laid when Christ was crucified; when the Conqueror
    created the British empire; when Columbus sailed; when the massacre at Lexington was
    "news." It is falling now; it will still be falling when all these things shall
    have sunk down the afternoon of history, and the twilight of tradition, and been swallowed
    up in the thick night of oblivion. Has everything a purpose and a mission? Did this drop
    fall patiently during five thousand years to be ready for this flitting human insect's
    need? And has it another important object to accomplish ten thousand years to come? No
    matter. It is many and many a year since the hapless half-breed scooped out the stone to
    catch the priceless drops, but to this day the tourist stares longest at that pathetic
    stone and that slow-dropping water when he comes to see the wonders of McDougal's cave.
    Injun Joe's cup stands first in the list of the cavern's marvels; even "Aladdin's
    Palace" cannot rival it.

    Injun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave; and people flocked there in boats and
    wagons from the towns and from all the farms and hamlets for seven miles around; they
    brought their children, and all sorts of provisions, and confessed that they had had
    almost as satisfactory a time at the funeral as they could have had at the hanging.

    This funeral stopped the further growth of one thing -- the petition to the governor
    for Injun Joe's pardon. The petition had been largely signed; many tearful and eloquent
    meetings had been held, and a committee of sappy women been appointed to go in deep
    mourning and wail around the governor, and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample
    his duty under foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five citizens of the village,
    but what of that? If he had been Satan himself there would have been plenty of weaklings
    ready to scribble their names to a pardon-petition, and drip a tear on it from their
    permanently impaired and leaky water-works.

    The morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to a private place to have an important
    talk. Huck had learned all about Tom's adventure from the Welshman and the Widow Douglas,
    by this time, but Tom said he reckoned there was one thing they had not told him; that
    thing was what he wanted to talk about now. Huck's face saddened. He said:

    "I know what it is. You got into No. 2 and never found anything but whiskey.
    Nobody told me it was you; but I just knowed it must 'a' ben you, soon as I heard 'bout
    that whiskey business; and I knowed you hadn't got the money becuz you'd 'a' got at me
    some way or other and told me even if you was mum to everybody else. Tom, something's
    always told me we'd never get holt of that swag."

    "Why, Huck, I never told on that tavern-keeper. YOU know his tavern was all right
    the Saturday I went to the picnic. Don't you remember you was to watch there that
    night?"

    "Oh yes! Why, it seems 'bout a year ago. It was that very night that I follered
    Injun Joe to the widder's."

    "YOU followed him?"

    "Yes -- but you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe's left friends behind him, and I
    don't want 'em souring on me and doing me mean tricks. If it hadn't ben for me he'd be
    down in Texas now, all right."

    Then Huck told his entire adventure in confidence to Tom, who had only heard of the
    Welshman's part of it before.

    "Well," said Huck, presently, coming back to the main question, "whoever
    nipped the whiskey in No. 2, nipped the money, too, I reckon -- anyways it's a goner for
    us, Tom."

    "Huck, that money wasn't ever in No. 2!"

    "What!" Huck searched his comrade's face keenly. "Tom, have you got on
    the track of that money again?"

    "Huck, it's in the cave!"

    Huck's eyes blazed.

    "Say it again, Tom."

    "The money's in the cave!"

    "Tom -- honest injun, now -- is it fun, or earnest?"

    "Earnest, Huck -- just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you go in there
    with me and help get it out?"

    "I bet I will! I will if it's where we can blaze our way to it and not get
    lost."

    "Huck, we can do that without the least little bit of trouble in the world."

    "Good as wheat! What makes you think the money's --"

    "Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don't find it I'll agree to give
    you my drum and every thing I've got in the world. I will, by jings."

    "All right -- it's a whiz. When do you say?"

    "Right now, if you say it. Are you strong enough?"

    "Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days, now, but I
    can't walk more'n a mile, Tom -- least I don't think I could."

    "It's about five mile into there the way anybody but me would go, Huck, but
    there's a mighty short cut that they don't anybody but me know about. Huck, I'll take you
    right to it in a skiff. I'll float the skiff down there, and I'll pull it back again all
    by myself. You needn't ever turn your hand over."

    "Less start right off, Tom."

    "All right. We want some bread and meat, and our pipes, and a little bag or two,
    and two or three kite-strings, and some of these new-fangled things they call lucifer
    matches. I tell you, many's the time I wished I had some when I was in there before."

    A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small skiff from a citizen who was absent, and
    got under way at once. When they were several miles below "Cave Hollow," Tom
    said:

    "Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all the way down from the cave hollow
    -- no houses, no woodyards, bushes all alike. But do you see that white place up yonder
    where there's been a landslide? Well, that's one of my marks. We'll get ashore, now."

    They landed.

    "Now, Huck, where we're a-standing you could touch that hole I got out of with a
    fishing-pole. See if you can find it."

    Huck searched all the place about, and found nothing. Tom proudly marched into a thick
    clump of sumach bushes and said:

    "Here you are! Look at it, Huck; it's the snuggest hole in this country. You just
    keep mum about it. All along I've been wanting to be a robber, but I knew I'd got to have
    a thing like this, and where to run across it was the bother. We've got it now, and we'll
    keep it quiet, only we'll let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in -- because of course there's
    got to be a Gang, or else there wouldn't be any style about it. Tom Sawyer's Gang -- it
    sounds splendid, don't it, Huck?"

    "Well, it just does, Tom. And who'll we rob?"

    "Oh, most anybody. Waylay people -- that's mostly the way."

    "And kill them?"

    "No, not always. Hive them in the cave till they raise a ransom."

    "What's a ransom?"

    "Money. You make them raise all they can, off'n their friends; and after you've
    kept them a year, if it ain't raised then you kill them. That's the general way. Only you
    don't kill the women. You shut up the women, but you don't kill them. They're always
    beautiful and rich, and awfully scared. You take their watches and things, but you always
    take your hat off and talk polite. They ain't anybody as polite as robbers -- you'll see
    that in any book. Well, the women get to loving you, and after they've been in the cave a
    week or two weeks they stop crying and after that you couldn't get them to leave. If you
    drove them out they'd turn right around and come back. It's so in all the books."

    "Why, it's real bully, Tom. I believe it's better'n to be a pirate."

    "Yes, it's better in some ways, because it's close to home and circuses and all
    that."

    By this time everything was ready and the boys entered the hole, Tom in the lead. They
    toiled their way to the farther end of the tunnel, then made their spliced kite-strings
    fast and moved on. A few steps brought them to the spring, and Tom felt a shudder quiver
    all through him. He showed Huck the fragment of candle-wick perched on a lump of clay
    against the wall, and described how he and Becky had watched the flame struggle and
    expire.

    The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, for the stillness and gloom of the place
    oppressed their spirits. They went on, and presently entered and followed Tom's other
    corridor until they reached the "jumping-off place." The candles revealed the
    fact that it was not really a precipice, but only a steep clay hill twenty or thirty feet
    high. Tom whispered:

    "Now I'll show you something, Huck."

    He held his candle aloft and said:

    "Look as far around the corner as you can. Do you see that? There -- on the big
    rock over yonder -- done with candle-smoke."

    "Tom, it's a cross!"

    "NOW where's your Number Two? 'under the cross,' hey? Right yonder's where I saw
    Injun Joe poke up his candle, Huck!"

    Huck stared at the mystic sign awhile, and then said with a shaky voice:

    "Tom, less git out of here!"

    "What! and leave the treasure?"

    "Yes -- leave it. Injun Joe's ghost is round about there, certain."

    "No it ain't, Huck, no it ain't. It would ha'nt the place where he died -- away
    out at the mouth of the cave -- five mile from here."

    "No, Tom, it wouldn't. It would hang round the money. I know the ways of ghosts,
    and so do you."

    Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Misgivings gathered in his mind. But presently
    an idea occurred to him --

    "Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we're making of ourselves! Injun Joe's ghost ain't a
    going to come around where there's a cross!"

    The point was well taken. It had its effect.

    "Tom, I didn't think of that. But that's so. It's luck for us, that cross is. I
    reckon we'll climb down there and have a hunt for that box."

    Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill as he descended. Huck followed.
    Four avenues opened out of the small cavern which the great rock stood in. The boys
    examined three of them with no result. They found a small recess in the one nearest the
    base of the rock, with a pallet of blankets spread down in it; also an old suspender, some
    bacon rind, and the well-gnawed bones of two or three fowls. But there was no money-box.
    The lads searched and researched this place, but in vain. Tom said:

    "He said under the cross. Well, this comes nearest to being under the cross. It
    can't be under the rock itself, because that sets solid on the ground."

    They searched everywhere once more, and then sat down discouraged. Huck could suggest
    nothing. By-and-by Tom said:

    "Lookyhere, Huck, there's footprints and some candle-grease on the clay about one
    side of this rock, but not on the other sides. Now, what's that for? I bet you the money
    IS under the rock. I'm going to dig in the clay."

    "That ain't no bad notion, Tom!" said Huck with animation.

    Tom's "real Barlow" was out at once, and he had not dug four inches before he
    struck wood.

    "Hey, Huck! -- you hear that?"

    Huck began to dig and scratch now. Some boards were soon uncovered and removed. They
    had concealed a natural chasm which led under the rock. Tom got into this and held his
    candle as far under the rock as he could, but said he could not see to the end of the
    rift. He proposed to explore. He stooped and passed under; the narrow way descended
    gradually. He followed its winding course, first to the right, then to the left, Huck at
    his heels. Tom turned a short curve, by-and-by, and exclaimed:

    "My goodness, Huck, lookyhere!"

    It was the treasure-box, sure enough, occupying a snug little cavern, along with an
    empty powder-keg, a couple of guns in leather cases, two or three pairs of old moccasins,
    a leather belt, and some other rubbish well soaked with the water-drip.

    "Got it at last!" said Huck, ploughing among the tarnished coins with his
    hand. "My, but we're rich, Tom!"

    "Huck, I always reckoned we'd get it. It's just too good to believe, but we have
    got it, sure! Say -- let's not fool around here. Let's snake it out. Lemme see if I can
    lift the box."

    It weighed about fifty pounds. Tom could lift it, after an awkward fashion, but could
    not carry it conveniently.

    "I thought so," he said; "They carried it like it was heavy, that day at
    the ha'nted house. I noticed that. I reckon I was right to think of fetching the little
    bags along."

    The money was soon in the bags and the boys took it up to the cross rock.

    "Now less fetch the guns and things," said Huck.

    "No, Huck -- leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we go to
    robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold our orgies there, too. It's an
    awful snug place for orgies."

    "What orgies?"

    "I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to have them,
    too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It's getting late, I reckon. I'm
    hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we get to the skiff."

    They presently emerged into the clump of sumach bushes, looked warily out, found the
    coast clear, and were soon lunching and smoking in the skiff. As the sun dipped toward the
    horizon they pushed out and got under way. Tom skimmed up the shore through the long
    twilight, chatting cheerily with Huck, and landed shortly after dark.

    "Now, Huck," said Tom, "we'll hide the money in the loft of the widow's
    woodshed, and I'll come up in the morning and we'll count it and divide, and then we'll
    hunt up a place out in the woods for it where it will be safe. Just you lay quiet here and
    watch the stuff till I run and hook Benny Taylor's little wagon; I won't be gone a
    minute."

    He disappeared, and presently returned with the wagon, put the two small sacks into it,
    threw some old rags on top of them, and started off, dragging his cargo behind him. When
    the boys reached the Welshman's house, they stopped to rest. Just as they were about to
    move on, the Welshman stepped out and said:

    "Hallo, who's that?"

    "Huck and Tom Sawyer."

    "Good! Come along with me, boys, you are keeping everybody waiting. Here -- hurry
    up, trot ahead -- I'll haul the wagon for you. Why, it's not as light as it might be. Got
    bricks in it? -- or old metal?"

    "Old metal," said Tom.

    "I judged so; the boys in this town will take more trouble and fool away more time
    hunting up six bits' worth of old iron to sell to the foundry than they would to make
    twice the money at regular work. But that's human nature -- hurry along, hurry
    along!"

    The boys wanted to know what the hurry was about.

    "Never mind; you'll see, when we get to the Widow Douglas'."

    Huck said with some apprehension -- for he was long used to being falsely accused:

    "Mr. Jones, we haven't been doing nothing."

    The Welshman laughed.

    "Well, I don't know, Huck, my boy. I don't know about that. Ain't you and the
    widow good friends?"

    "Yes. Well, she's ben good friends to me, anyway."

    "All right, then. What do you want to be afraid for?"

    This question was not entirely answered in Huck's slow mind before he found himself
    pushed, along with Tom, into Mrs. Douglas' drawing-room. Mr. Jones left the wagon near the
    door and followed.

    The place was grandly lighted, and everybody that was of any consequence in the village
    was there. The Thatchers were there, the Harpers, the Rogerses, Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, the
    minister, the editor, and a great many more, and all dressed in their best. The widow
    received the boys as heartily as any one could well receive two such looking beings. They
    were covered with clay and candle-grease. Aunt Polly blushed crimson with humiliation, and
    frowned and shook her head at Tom. Nobody suffered half as much as the two boys did,
    however. Mr. Jones said:

    "Tom wasn't at home, yet, so I gave him up; but I stumbled on him and Huck right
    at my door, and so I just brought them along in a hurry."

    "And you did just right," said the widow. "Come with me, boys."

    She took them to a bedchamber and said:

    "Now wash and dress yourselves. Here are two new suits of clothes -- shirts,
    socks, everything complete. They're Huck's -- no, no thanks, Huck -- Mr. Jones bought one
    and I the other. But they'll fit both of you. Get into them. We'll wait -- come down when
    you are slicked up enough."

    Then she left.
 

第三十三章 印第安·乔困死山洞
 
 


    几分钟内,消息传开了,十几只小艇装满人往麦克道格拉斯山洞划去,渡船也满载着乘
客随后而去。汤姆·索亚和撒切尔法官同乘一条小艇。
    洞口的锁被打开,暗淡的光线下显现出一幅惨兮兮的景象。印第安·乔躺在地上,四肢
伸直死了。他的脸离门缝很近,看上去好像在那最后一刻,企盼的眼神死盯着外面的光明和
那自由自在的欢乐世界。汤姆受到了震动,因为他亲身在洞中呆过,所以能理解这个家伙当
时的苦楚。他动了恻隐之心,但不管怎么说他觉得现在十分地快慰和安全,这一点他以前从
没有体会到。自打他做证,证明那个流浪汉的罪行之后,他心头一直有种沉重的恐惧感。
    印第安·乔的那把猎刀还在他身边,刀刃已裂成两半。他死前拼命用刀砍过那门下面的
大横木,凿穿了个缺口,可是这没有用,外面的石头天然地形成了一个门框,用刀砍这样坚
固的门框,简直是鸡蛋碰石头,根本不起作用,相反刀倒被砍得不成形了。就算没有石头,
印第安·乔也是白费气力,他可以砍断大横木,但要想从门下面钻出来也是不可能的,他自
己也明白这一点。他砍大横木,只是为了找点事干,为了打发那烦人的时光,以便有所寄
托。往常,人们可以找到五六截游客们插在缝隙间的蜡烛头,可是这一次一截也没有,因为
这个被困的家伙把所有的蜡烛头都找出来吃掉了。他还设法捉到几只蝙蝠,除了爪子外全吃
掉了。这个可怜而又不幸的家伙最后是饿死的。不远处有个石笋,已有些年月,它是由头顶
上的钟乳石滴水所形成的。他把石笋弄断后,把一块石头放在石笋墩上,凿出一个浅窝来接
每隔三分钟才滴下来一滴宝贵的水。水滴声像钟表一般有规律,令人烦闷,一天一夜下来才
能接满一汤匙。自金字塔刚出现,这水就在滴;特洛伊城陷落时;罗马城刚建立时;基督被
钉上十字架时;征服者威廉大帝创建英国时;航海家哥伦布出航时;莱克星屯大屠杀鲜为人
知时;那水就一直在滴个不停。现在它还在滴,即使等一切随着历史成为烟消云散,而后被
人遗忘,它还会滴淌下去。世间万物是不是都有目的,负有使命呢?这滴水五千年来默默地
流淌不断,是不是专为这个可怜虫准备的呢?它是不是还有另外重要的目的,再流它个一万
年呢?这没什么要紧的。在那个倒霉的混血儿用石头窝接那宝贵的水之前,已过去了若干
年。可是如今的游客来麦克道格拉斯山洞观光时,会长时驻足,盯着那块令人伤心的石头和
缓缓而下的水滴,印第安·乔的“杯子”在山洞奇观中格外突出,连“阿拉丁宫殿”也比不
上它。
    印第安·乔被埋在山洞口附近。城里、乡下周围七里内的人都乘船或马车成群结队地来
到这里。他们领着孩子,带来各种食物,都表示看到埋葬乔和看他被绞死差不多一样开心。
    这件事过后人们不再向州长提赦免印第安·乔的事了。许多人都在请愿书上签了名,还
开过许多声一把泪一把的会议,选了一群软心肠的妇女组成请愿团,身穿丧服到州长那里哭
诉,请求他大发仁慈之心,别管自己的职责要求。据说印第安·乔手里有五条人命案,可那
又怎么样呢?就算他是魔鬼撒旦,也还会有一帮糊涂蛋愿在请愿书上划押,并且从他们那永
远没修好的“自来水龙头”里滴出泪水来洒在请愿书上。
    埋了乔后的那天早晨,汤姆把哈克叫到一个无人的地方,跟他说件重要的事情。此时哈
克从威尔斯曼和道格拉斯寡妇那里知道了汤姆历险的经过。可汤姆却说,他觉得他们有一件
事没跟哈克说,这正是他现在要讲的。哈克脸色阴沉地说:
    “我知道是什么,你进了二号,除威士忌外,你别的什么东西也没找到。虽然没人说是
你干的,可我一听到威土忌那桩事,就知道一定是你干的,你没搞到钱,要不然的话,你早
就跟我一人说了。汤姆,我总觉得,我们永远也得不到那份财宝。”
    “我说哈克,我从来也没有告发客栈老板,星期六我去野餐时,客栈不是好好的吗?这
你是知道的。你忘了吗,那天晚上该你去守夜。”
    “噢,对了!怎么觉得好像是一年前的事情了。正是那天晚上,我跟在印第安·乔后
面,一直跟到寡妇家。”
    “原来是你跟在他后面呀!”
    “是我,可别声张出去。我想印第安·乔还有朋友,我不想让他们来整我,要不是我,
他这回准到了得克萨斯州,准没错。”
    于是哈克像知己般地把他的全部历险经过告诉了汤姆。
    在这之前,汤姆只听说过有关威尔斯曼的事情。“喂,”哈克接着回到老话题说,“哪
个搞到威土忌,那钱也就落在他手里。反正没我俩的份。”
    “哈克,那财宝根本就不在二号里!”
    “你说什么?”哈克仔细打量着同伴的脸。“汤姆,难道你又有了新线索?”
    “哈克,它就在洞里呀!”
    哈克的眼睛闪闪发光。
    “再说一遍听听,汤姆。”
    “钱在洞里!”
    “汤姆,你是开玩笑,还是说真格的?”
    “当然是真格的,我一直都是这样。你跟我去,把它弄出来好吗?”
    “发个誓!只要我们能作记号,找到回来的路,我就跟你去。”
    “哈克,这次进洞,不会遇到任何麻烦事。”
    “棒极了,你怎么想到钱在——”
    “哈克,别急,进去就知道了,要是拿不到钱,我愿把我的小鼓,还有别的东西全都给
你,决不失言。”
    “好,一言为定。你说什么时候动身吧。”
    “马上就去,你看呢?你身体行吗?”
    “要进到很深的地方吗?我恢复得已经有三四天了,不过最远只能走一英里,汤姆,至
少我觉得是这样。”
    “哈克,别人进洞得走五英里,可有条近路只有我一人知道。哈克,我马上带你划小船
过去。我让它浮在那儿,回来时我自己划船,根本不用你动手。”
    “汤姆,我们这就走吧!”
    “行,我们得备点面包、肉,还有烟斗、一两只小口袋、两三根风筝线,再带点他们叫
洋火的那玩意。上次在洞里,好几回我想要是有些洋火可能就好了。”
    中午稍过,两个孩子乘人不在“借”了条船,就出发了。
    在离“空心洞”还有几英里的地方,汤姆说:
    “你瞧,这高崖从上往下一个样:没房子,没锯木厂,灌木丛都一样。你再瞧那边崩塌
处有块白色空地,那就是我们的记号之一。好了,现在该上岸了。”
    他们上了岸。
    “哈克,在这里用钓鱼竿就能够到我钻出来的洞,你肯定能找到洞口。”
    哈克到处找了找,没找到什么。汤姆很神气地迈着大步走到一大堆绿树丛旁说:
    “找到了!哈克,你瞧洞在这里;这是最隐蔽的洞口,别对外人说。我早就想当强盗,
知道需要这样一个洞好藏身,可是到哪里能碰到这样理想的洞确实烦神,现在有了,但得保
密,只能让乔·哈帕和本·罗杰斯进洞,因为我们得结帮成伙,要不然就没有派头。汤
姆·索亚这名子挺响的,是不是,哈克?”
    “嗯,是挺响的,汤姆,抢谁呢?”
    “遇谁抢谁吧,拦路抢劫——都是这样干的。”
    “还杀人吗?”
    “不,不总是杀人,把他们撵到洞里,让他们拿钱来赎?”
    “什么叫赎?”
    “就是用钱来换人,叫他们把所有的钱统统拿出来。连朋友的钱也要弄来,若一年内不
送上赎金,就放他们的血,通常就这么干。不过不要杀女人,只是把她们关起来就够了。她
们长得总是很漂亮,也有钱,但一被抓住就吓得不行。你可以下她们的手表,拿别的东西,
但对待她们,你要摘帽以示有礼,不管读什么书,你都会知道强盗是最有礼貌的人。接下来
就是女人渐渐地对你产生好感,在洞里呆上一两周后,她们也就不哭了,随后你就是让她们
走,她们也不走。要是你把她们带出去,她们会折回身,径直返回来。所有的书上都是这么
描写的。”
    “哇,太棒了,汤姆,当强盗是比做海盗好。”
    “的确有些好处,因为这样离家近,看马戏什么的也方便。”
    此刻,一切准备就绪,两个孩子就开始钻山洞。汤姆打头里走,他们好不容易走到通道
的另一头,然后系紧捻好的风筝线,又继续往前走。没有几步路,他们来到泉水处,汤姆浑
身一阵冷颤,他让哈克看墙边泥块上的那截蜡烛芯,讲述了他和贝基两人当时看着蜡烛火光
摇曳,直至最后熄灭时的心情。
    洞里死气沉沉,静得吓人。两个孩子开始压低嗓门,低声说话。他们再往前走,很快就
钻进了另一个道,一直来到那个低凹的地方,借着烛光发现,这个地方不是悬崖,只是个二
十英尺高的陡山坡,汤姆悄悄说:
    “哈克,现在让你瞧件东西。”
    他高高举起蜡烛说:
    “尽量朝拐角处看,看见了吗?那边——那边的大石头上——有蜡烛烟熏出来的记号。”
    “汤姆,我看那是十字!”
    “那么你的二号呢?在十字架下,对吗?哈克,我就是在那看见印第安·乔伸出蜡烛
的!”
    哈克盯着那神秘的记号看了一阵,然后声音颤抖地说:
    “汤姆,咱们出去吧!”
    “什么?出去?不要财宝啦。”
    “对,不要财宝啦。印第安·乔的鬼魂就在附近,肯定在。”
    “不在这里,哈克,一定不在这里。在他死的地方,那洞口离这还有五英里远。”
    “不,汤姆,它不在那里,它就在钱附近,我晓得鬼的特性,这你也是知道的。”
    汤姆也动摇了,他担心也许哈克说得对,他也满脑的怀疑,但很快他有了个主意:
    “喂,哈克,我俩真是十足的大傻瓜。印第安·乔的鬼魂怎么可能在有十字的地方游荡
呢!”
    汤姆这下说到点子上啦,他的话果真起了作用。
    “汤姆,我怎么没想到十字能避邪呢。我们真幸运,我们的好十字。我觉得我们该从那
里爬下去找那箱财宝。”
    汤姆先下,边往下走,边打一些粗糙的脚蹬儿。哈克跟在后面,有大岩石的那个石洞分
出四个叉道口。孩子查看了三个道口,结果一无所获,在最靠近大石头的道口里,他们找到
了一个小窝,里边有个铺着毯子的地铺,还有个旧吊篮,一块熏肉皮,两三块啃得干干净净
的鸡骨头,可就是没钱箱。两个小家伙一遍又一遍地到处找,可还是没找到钱箱,于是汤姆
说:
    “他说是在十字下,你瞧,这不就是最靠近十字底下的地方吗?不可能藏在石头底下面
吧,这下面一点缝隙也没有。”
    他们又到四处找了一遍便灰心丧气地坐下来。哈克一个主意也说不出来,最后还是汤姆
开了口:
    “喂,哈克,这块石头的一面泥土上有脚印和蜡烛油,另一面却什么也没有。你想想,
这是为什么呢?我跟你打赌钱就在石头下面,我要把它挖出来。”
    “想法不错,汤姆!”哈克兴奋地说道。
    汤姆立刻掏出正宗的巴罗刀,没挖到四英寸深就碰到了木头。
    “嘿,哈克,听到木头的声音了吗?”
    哈克也开始挖,不一会工夫,他们把露出的木板移走,这时出现了一个通往岩石下的天
然裂口。汤姆举着蜡烛钻了进去。汤姆说他看不到裂口尽头处,想进去看看,于是弯着腰穿
过裂口。路越来越窄,渐渐地往下通去。他先是右,然后是左,曲曲弯弯地沿着通道往前
走,哈克跟在汤姆后面。后来汤姆进了一段弧形通道,不久就大声叫道:“老天爷啊,哈
克,你看这是什么?”
    是宝箱,千真万确,它藏在一个小石窟里,旁边有个空弹药桶,两只装在皮套里的枪,
两三双旧皮鞋,一条皮带,另外还有些被水浸得湿漉漉的破烂东西。
    “财宝终于找到了!”哈克边说,边用手抓起一把变色的钱币。“汤姆,这下我们发财
了。”
    “哈克,我总觉得我们会找到的,真难以令人相信,不过财宝确实到手了!喂,别傻呆
在这儿,把它拖出去,我来试试看,能不能搬动。”
    箱子重有五十磅。汤姆费了好大的劲才把它提起来,可提着走却很吃力。
    “我早就猜对了,”他说,“那天在闹鬼的房间里,他们拿箱子时,样子也是十分吃
力,我看出来了,带来的这些小布袋子正好用上。”
    钱很快被装进小袋子里,孩子们把它搬上去拿到十字岩石旁。
    “我现在去拿枪和别的东西,”哈克说。
    “别去拿,别动那些东西,我们以后当强盗会用得着那些东西,现在就放在那里。我们
还要在那里聚会,痛饮一番,那可是个难得的好地方。”
    “什么叫痛饮一番?”
    “我也不知道,不过强盗们总是聚会痛饮,我们当然也要这样做。快走,哈克,我们在
这里呆的时间太长了,现在不早了,我也饿了,等到船上就可以吃东西,抽香烟。”
    不久他俩出来后钻进了绿树林,警惕地观察四周,发现岸边没人,就开始上船吃起饭,
抽起烟来。
    太阳快接近地平线时,他们撑起船离岸而去,黄昏中汤姆沿岸边划了很长时间,边划边
兴高采烈地和哈克聊天,天刚黑他俩就上了岸。
    “哈克,”汤姆说,“我们把钱藏到寡妇家柴火棚的阁楼上,早上我就回来把钱过过
数,然后两人分掉,再到林子里找个安全的地方把它放好。你呆在这儿别动,看着钱,我去
把本尼·泰勒的小车子偷来,一会儿就回来。”
    说完,他就消失了,不一会工夫他带着小车子回来,把两个小袋子先扔上车,然后再盖
上些烂布,拖着“货物”就出发了。来到威尔斯曼家时,他俩停下来休息,之后正要动身
时,威尔斯曼走出来说:
    “喂,那是谁呀?”
    “是我俩,哈克和汤姆·索亚。”
    “好极了!孩子们跟我来,大家都在等你俩呢。快点,头里小跑,我来拉车,咦,怎么
不像看上去的轻?装了砖头?还是什么破铜烂铁?”
    “烂铁。”汤姆说
    “我也觉得像,镇上的孩子就是喜欢东找西翻弄些破铜烂铁卖给翻砂厂,最多不过换六
个子。要是干活的话,一般都能挣双倍的钱,可人就是这样的,不说了,快走吧,快点!”
    两个孩子想知道为什么催他们快走。
    “别问了,等到了寡妇家就知道了。”
    哈克由于常被人诬陷,所以心有余悸地问道:
    “琼斯先生,我们什么事也没干呀!”
    威尔斯曼笑了。
    “噢,我不知道,我的好孩子,哈克,我也不知道是什么事,你跟寡妇不是好朋友吗?”
    “是的,不管怎么说,她一直待我很好。”
    “这就行了,那么你还有什么可怕的呢?
    哈克反应慢,还没转过脑筋来就和汤姆一起被推进道格拉斯夫人家的客厅。琼斯先生把
车停在门边后,也跟了进来。
    客厅里灯火辉煌,村里有头有面的人物全都聚在这儿。他们是撒切尔一家、哈帕一家、
罗杰斯一家、波莉姨妈、希德、玛丽、牧师、报馆撰稿人,还有很多别的人,大家全都衣着
考究。寡妇热情地接待这两个孩子,这样的孩子谁见了都会伸出热情之手。他俩浑身是泥土
和蜡烛油。波莉姨妈臊得满脸通红,皱着眉朝汤姆直摇头。这两个孩子可受了大罪。琼斯先
生说:
    “当时汤姆不在家,所以我就没再找他了,可偏巧在门口让我给碰上了。他和哈克在一
起,这不,我就急急忙忙把他俩弄到这里。”
    “你做得对,”寡妇说,“孩子们跟我来吧。”
    她把两个孩子领到一间卧室,然后对他们说:
    “你们洗个澡,换件衣服。这是两套新衣服,衬衣、袜子样样齐备。这是哈克的——
不,用不着道谢,哈克,一套是琼斯先生拿来的,另一套是我拿来的。不过你们穿上会觉得
合身的。穿上吧,我们等着——穿好就下来。”她说完走了出去。
 
 

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