CHAPTER XI

秋天，我滿懷快樂的回憶回到南方家鄉。當我想起那次去北方，多樣和豐富的經驗就會在我心中浮現，群集成簇，讓我驚嘆而覺得滿足。一切的開始，看起來像是已經發生了。一個新的美好世界的珍寶為我準備好了，而我每次都把握住機會，接受了愉快和信息。我經歷所有事件，在愛做的事中實踐自己。我從來是一個片刻也閒不住，我的生活和一些小昆蟲一樣專注行動；這些小昆蟲的生命很短暫，它們將所有的生活急促在簡短的一天完成。我遇過很多人，他們透過在我手心寫字來和我交談，以愉快的和諧立即進行思想交會…啊，一場奇蹟已經完成！在我和別人心靈之間的荒漠，像玫瑰盛開了那樣興旺。

秋天的幾個月裡，我和家人住在我們的夏日別墅，這農舍小屋位於塔斯坎比亞14英里外山上；因為附近有個廢棄許久的石灰岩露天礦場，那裡被命名為蕨的礦場（Fern Quarry）。有三條喧嘩戲鬧的溪流穿過那裏，它們源自上游岩山的泉湧，一路上被石頭欄著而形成階梯狀瀑布；溪流在這裡跳躍，在那底翻滾，到處發出歡笑聲。溪流的通道和孔穴長滿了蕨類植物，它們把暗藏溪流的石灰岩床完全隱蔽。山的其他部份則濃密林立茂盛的樹木，有巨大的橡樹和枝葉燦爛的各種常青樹；這些樹木高壯的柱幹都包覆著密實的苔蘚，伸出的錯亂枝枒到處懸掛有長春藤花環和檞寄生；還有柿子樹。樹林中，無論是哪裡的隱蔽深處或偏僻角落都彌漫香氣，這種迷幻芬芳讓人心情愉快。野生麝香葡萄和翠綠大粒葡萄藤也在樹林間四處蔓延成蔭，裡面滿是翩翩飛舞的蝴蝶和唧唧嗡嗡唱個不停的昆蟲。黃昏前聞著這大地發出的清涼香氣，迷失在枝葉糾纏出的綠色彎穹中，是我們的樂事。

我們這間避暑小屋，蓋得有點粗糙；可是，坐落在山頂的橡樹和松木林裡，看起來很漂亮。所有的小房間都安置在長方空敞的大廳兩邊，整間房子環有寬闊柱廊；那裡經常有山風落下，飄來各種樹木的清香。我們大部分時間在柱廊裡享受人生：工作、飲食、玩樂或演唱。後門有一棵高大的白胡桃樹，台階環繞樹幹建築；那樣接近，我可以觸摸它，感覺風搖動的樹枝或者秋風吹落而旋轉墜下的落葉。

蕨的礦場（Fern Quarry）有不少訪客。在夜裡的營火邊，男人在牌戲後又談話和尋歡作樂，輕鬆歡度時光。他們不停說故事，描述自己如何或多少的抓鳥、釣魚以及獵獸的精采事蹟…喔，他們射殺過許多野鴨、火雞，捕抓過真正兇猛的鮭魚，也有不少狡猾狐狸落在他們的袋子裡；他們也騙過最聰明伶利的負鼠，追趕上最快速敏捷的鹿…到此，我想無疑的連獅子、老虎、熊，還有其他任何兇猛狂暴的動物，都無法逃過這些獵人的多端詭計。這個興高采烈的聯誼圈子在夜空中突然爆發出「明天去打獵！」的喊聲，那就是他們的互道晚安。男人一起睡在我們門外的大廳裡，所以當他們躺上臨時搭的床，我能感覺到狗和這些獵人的打鼾。 

天剛亮，我就被咖啡香味喚醒；我也感覺到槍支嘎嘎作響，還有男人邁開大步的沉重腳步，這些混合的震動好像可以讓他們指望在這個節季裡能有極佳運氣。我還能感覺到馬群跺腳或踩踏；自從城裡來到這兒被拴在樹下，牠們已經在那裡待了整晚，急著要出發而不耐煩的嘶聲喧鬧。終於喔，男人上馬了，就像他們說的昔日歌謠所唱的那樣….離開了，繫帶韁繩的駿馬不停發鳴，快鞭清脆響亮，獵犬在前頭爭先恐後；離開了，出類拔萃的獵手隊，不停對著狗指令，或者自己高興亂吼，或者胡鬧互相呼喚… 

IN the Autumn I returned to my Southern home with a heart full of joyous memories. As I recall that visit North I am filled with wonder at the richness and variety of the experiences that cluster about it. It seems to have been the beginning of everything. The treasures of a new, beautiful world were laid at my feet, and I took in pleasure and information at every turn. I lived myself into all things. I was never still a moment; my life was as full of motion as those little insects which crowd a whole existence into one brief day. I had met many people who talked with me by spelling into my hand, and thought

 in joyous symphony leaped up to meet thought, and behold, a miracle had been wrought! The barren places between my mind and the minds of others blossomed like the rose.

I spent the autumn months with my family at our summer cottage, on a mountain about fourteen miles from Tuscumbia. It was called Fern Quarry, because near it there was a limestone quarry, long since abandoned. Three frolicsome little streams ran through it from springs in the rocks above, leaping here and tumbling there in laughing cascades wherever the rocks tried to bar their way. The opening was filled with ferns which completely covered the beds of limestone and in places hid the streams. The rest of the mountain was thickly wooded. Here were great oaks and splendid evergreens with trunks like mossy pillars, from the branches of which hung garlands of ivy and mistletoe, and persimmon trees, the odor of which pervaded every nook and corner of the wood–an illusive, fragrant something that made the heart glad. In places, the wild muscadine and scuppernong vines stretched from tree to tree, making arbours which were always full of butterflies and buzzing insects. It was delightful to lose ourselves in the green hollows of that tangled wood in the late afternoon, and to smell the cool, delicious odours that came up from the earth at the close of day.

Our cottage was a sort of rough camp, beautifully situated on the top of the mountain among oaks and pines. The small rooms were arranged on each side of a long open hall. Round the house was a wide piazza, where the mountain winds blew, sweet with all wood-scents. We lived on the piazza most of the time–there we worked, ate and played. At the back door there was a great butternut tree, round which the steps had been built, and in front the trees stood so close that I could touch them and feel the wind shake their branches, or the leaves twirl downward in the autumn blast.

Many visitors came to Fern Quarry. In the evening, by the campfire, the men played cards and whiled away the hours in talk and sport. They told stories of their wonderful feats with fowl, fish, and quadruped–how many wild ducks and turkeys they had shot, what "savage trout" they had caught, and how they had bagged the craftiest foxes, outwitted the most clever 'possums, and overtaken the fleetest deer, until I thought that surely the lion, the tiger, the bear, and the rest of the wild tribe would not be able to stand before these wily hunters. "To-morrow to the chase!" was their good-night shout as the circle of merry friends broke up for the night. The men slept in the hall outside our door, and I could feel the deep breathing of the dogs and the hunters as they lay on their improvised beds.

At dawn I was awakened by the smell of coffee, the rattling of guns, and the heavy footsteps of the men as they strode about, promising themselves the greatest luck of the season. I could also feel the stamping of the horses, which they had ridden out from town and hitched under the trees, where they stood all night, neighing loudly, impatient to be off. At last the men mounted, and, as they say in the old songs, away went the steeds with bridles ringing and whips cracking and hounds racing ahead, and away went the champion hunters "with hark and whoop and wild halloo!"