那天晚上，我们在耶勒公牛平原露营——那是负鼠比利、汤姆和我。我从来没有见过这两个家伙，他们是最善于撒野的。我骑着一匹野马，或者和一个裹在骡子皮里的魔鬼争吵，那两个和我一起扎营的家伙，会把任何人都变成傻瓜的。2不管怎么说，他们都得浑身是筋，浑身是骨。我从来没有见过像他们这样强壮的人。在人生的游戏中，凡是有头脑的人，都是最穷的;当他们举起手来的时候，又有一个家伙在那只该死的破罐子里躺了下来!3我们人手不够，牲口又多，所以我们就分了夜。我们能听到土狼的嚎叫和哀鸣，但这些可恶的动物躲在篝火熊熊燃烧的视线之外; an' now an' then Thar cum a rustle an' sort of rush-- A rattle a-sneakin' away from the blaze, Thro' the rattlin', cracklin' grey sage bush. IV. We'd chanc'd that night on a pootyish lot, With a tol'ble show of tall, sweet grass-- We was takin' Speredo's drove across The Rockies, by way of "Old Spookses' Pass"-- An' a mite of a creek went crinklin' down, Like a "pocket" bust in the rocks overhead, Consid'able shrunk, by the summer drought, To a silver streak in its gravelly bed. V. 'Twas a fairish spot fur to camp a' night; An' chipper I felt, tho' sort of skeer'd That them two cowboys with only me, Couldn't boss three thousand head of a herd. I took the fust of the watch myself; An' as the red sun down the mountains sprang, I roll'd a fresh quid, an' got on the back Of my peart leetle chunk of a tough mustang. VI. An' Possum Billy was sleepin' sound Es only a cowboy knows how to sleep; An' Tommy's snores would hev made a old Buffalo bull feel kind o' cheap. Wal, pard, I reckin' thar's no sech time For dwind'lin' a chap in his own conceit, Es when them mountains an' awful stars, Jest hark to the tramp of his mustang's feet. VII. It 'pears to me that them solemn hills Beckin' them stars so big an' calm, An' whisper, "Make tracks this way, my friends, We've ringed in here a specimen man; He's here alone, so we'll take a look Thro' his ganzy an' vest, an' his blood an' bone, An post ourselves as to whether his heart Is flesh, or a rotten, made-up stone." VIII. An' it's often seemed, on a midnight watch, When the mountains blacken'd the dry, brown sod, That a chap, if he shut his eyes, might grip The great kind hand of his Father-God. I rode round the herd at a sort of walk-- The shadders come stealin' thick an' black; I'd jest got to leave tew thet thar chunk Of a mustang tew keep in the proper track. IX. Ever see'd a herd ring'd in at night? Wal, it's sort of cur'us,-- the watchin' sky, The howl of coyotes a great black mass, With thar an' thar the gleam of a eye An' the white of a horn an', now an' then, An' old bull liftin' his shaggy head, With a beller like a broke-up thunder growl-- An' the summer lightnin', quick an' red, X. Twistin' an' turnin' amid the stars, Silent as snakes at play in the grass, An' plungin' thar fangs in the bare old skulls Of the mountains, frownin' above the Pass. An' all so still, that the leetle crick, Twinklin' an' crinklin' frum stone to stone, Grows louder an' louder, an' fills the air With a cur'us sort of a singin' tone. It ain't no matter wharever ye be, (I'll 'low it's a cur'us sort of case) Whar thar's runnin' water, it's sure to speak Of folks tew home an' the old home place; XI. An' yer bound tew listen an' hear it talk, Es yer mustang crunches the dry, bald sod; Fur I reckin' the hills, an' stars, an' creek Are all of 'em preachers sent by God. An' them mountains talk tew a chap this way: "Climb, if ye can, ye degenerate cuss!" An' the stars smile down on a man, an say, "Come higher, poor critter, come up tew us!" XII. An' I reckin', pard, thar is One above The highest old star that a chap can see, An' He says, in a solid, etarnal way, "Ye never can stop till ye get to ME!" Good fur Him, tew! fur I calculate HE ain't the One to dodge an' tew shirk, Or waste a mite of the things He's made, Or knock off till He's finished His great day's work! XIII. We've got to labor an' strain an' snort Along thet road thet He's planned an' made; Don't matter a mite He's cut His line Tew run over a 'tarnal tough up-grade; An' if some poor sinner ain't built tew hold Es big a head of steam es the next, An' keeps slippin' an' slidin' 'way down hill, Why, He don't make out