荒野を走る列車と病気への恐怖
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At daybreak on the following morning he set outfor Cordova, ardent and smiling, filled withpresentiments of happiness.
But there is no cheerfulness that rules for longin the face of certain sinister aspects of nature.
The weather was close and dull, the train, whichwas nearly empty, ran through an immense plain,destitute of every sign of habitation.
He found himself alone in a very long car, whichresembled those on trains for the wounded.
He gazed to the right, he gazed to the left, andhe saw nothing but an endless solitude, strewnwith tiny, deformed trees, with contorted trunksand branches,
in attitudes such as were never seen before,almost of wrath and anguish, and a sparse andmelancholy vegetation, which gave to the plain theaspect of a ruined cemetery.
He dozed for half an hour, then resumed hissurvey, the spectacle was still the same.
The railway stations were deserted, like thedwellings of hermits, and when the train stopped,not a sound was heard.
It seemed to him that he was alone in a losttrain, abandoned in the middle of a desert.
It seemed to him as though each station must bethe last, and that he should then enter themysterious regions of the savages.
An icy breeze nipped his face.
On embarking at Genoa, towards the end of April,it had not occurred to him that he should findwinter in America, and he was dressed for summer.
After several hours of this he began to sufferfrom cold, and in connection with the cold, fromthe fatigue of the days he had recently passedthrough,
filled as they had been with violent emotions, andfrom sleepless and harassing nights.
He fell asleep, slept a long time, and awokebenumbed, he felt ill.
Then a vague terror of falling ill, of dying onthe journey, seized upon him, a fear of beingthrown out there, in the middle of that desolateprairie,
where his body would be torn in pieces by dogs andbirds of prey, like the corpses of horses and cowswhich he had caught sight of every now and thenbeside the track,
and from which he had turned aside his eyes indisgust.
In this state of anxious illness, in the midst ofthat dark silence of nature, his imagination grewexcited, and looked on the dark side of things.
コルドバで母の行方を知る
Was he quite sure, after all, that he should findhis mother at Cordova?
And what if she had not gone there?
What if that gentleman in the Via del Los Arteshad made a mistake?
And what if she were dead?
Thus meditating, he fell asleep again, and dreamedthat he was in Cordova, and it was night, and thathe heard cries from all the doors and all thewindows,
She is not here. She is not here. She is not here.
This roused him with a start, in terror, and hesaw at the other end of the car three bearded menenveloped in shawls of various colours who werestaring at him and talking together in a low tone,
and the suspicion flashed across him that theywere assassins, and that they wanted to kill himfor the sake of stealing his bag.
Fear was added to his consciousness of illness andto the cold.
His fancy, already perturbed, became distorted,the three men kept on staring at him, one of themmoved towards him,
then his reason wandered, and rushing towards himwith arms wide open, he shrieked,
I have nothing, I am a poor boy, I have come fromItaly, I am in quest of my mother, I am alone, donot do me any harm.
They instantly understood the situation, they tookcompassion on him, rest and soothed him,
speaking to him many words which he did not hearnor comprehend, and perceiving that his teeth werechattering with cold,
they wrapped one of their shawls around him, andmade him sit down again, so that he might go tosleep.
And he did fall asleep once more, when thetwilight was descending. When they aroused him, hewas at Cordova.
Ah, what a deep breath he drew, and with whatimpetuosity he flew from the car.
He inquired of one of the station employees wherethe house of the engineer Mequines was situated,
the latter mentioned the name of a church, itstood beside the church, the boy hastened away.
It was night. He entered the city, and it seemedto him that he was entering Rosario once more,
that he again beheld those straight streets,flanked with little white houses, and intersectedby other very long and straight streets.
But there were very few people, and under thelight of the rare street lanterns, he encounteredstrange faces of a hue unknown to him,
between black and greenish, and raising his headfrom time to time, he beheld churches of bizarrearchitecture which were outlined black and vastagainst the sky.
The city was dark and silent, but after havingtraversed that immense desert, it appeared livelyto him.
He inquired his way of a priest, speedily foundthe church and the house, pulled the bell with onetrembling hand,
and pressed the other on his breast to repress thebeating of his heart, which was leaping into histhroat.
An old woman, with a light in her hand, opened thedoor. The boy could not speak at once.
Whom do you want? demanded the dame in Spanish.
The engineer Mequines, replied Marco.
The old woman made a motion to cross her arms onher breast, and replied, with a shake of the head,
So you, too, have dealings with the engineerMequines. It strikes me that it is time to stopthis.
We have been worried for the last three months. Itis not enough that the newspapers have said it.
We shall have to have it printed on the corner ofthe street, that Senior Mequines has gone to liveat Tucumán.
The boy gave way to a gesture of despair. Then hegave way to an outburst of passion.
So there is a curse upon me. I am doomed to die onthe road, without having found my mother.
I shall go mad. I shall kill myself. My God! Whatis the name of that country? Where is it?
At what distance is it situated?
Ay, poor boy, replied the old woman, moved topity, a mere trifle.
We are four or five hundred miles from there, atleast.
The boy covered his face with his hands, then heasked with a sob, And now what am I to do?
What am I to say to you, my poor child? respondedthe dame, I don't know.
荷馬車隊商への参加
But suddenly an idea struck her, and she addedhastily, Listen, now that I think of it.
There is one thing that you can do. Go down thisstreet, to the right, and at the third house youwill find a courtyard.
There there is a capotaz, a trader, who is settingout tomorrow for Tucumán, with his wagons and hisoxen.
Go and see if he will take you, and offer him yourservices, perhaps he will give you a place on hiswagons, go at once.
The lad grasped his bag, thanked her as he ran,and two minutes later found himself in a vastcourtyard,
lighted by lanterns, where a number of men wereengaged in loading sacks of grain on certainenormous carts
which resembled the movable houses of mountebanks,with rounded tops, and very tall wheels,
and a tall man with moustaches, enveloped in asort of mantle of black and white check, and withbig boots, was directing the work.
The lad approached this man, and timidly profferedhis request, saying that he had come from Italy,
and that he was in search of his mother. Thecapotaz, which signifies the head, the headconductor of this convoy of wagons,
surveyed him from head to foot with a keen glance,and replied dryly, I have no place.
I have fifteen lira, answered the boy in asupplicating tone, I will give you my fifteenlira.
I will work on the journey, I will fetch the waterand fodder for the animals, I will perform allsorts of services.
A little bread will suffice for me. Make a littleplace for me, senor."
The capotaz looked him over again, and repliedwith a better grace, there is no room, and then,
we are not going to Tucumán, we are going toanother town, Santiago del Toro.
We shall have to leave you at a certain point, andyou will still have a long way to go on foot.
Ah, I will make twice as long a journey, exclaimedMarco, I can walk, do not worry about that,
I shall get there by some means or other, make alittle room for me, senor, out of charity,
for pity's sake, do not leave me here alone.Beware, it is a journey of twenty days.
It matters nothing to me. It is a hard journey. Iwill endure everything.
You will have to travel alone. I fear nothing, ifI can only find my mother. Have compassion."
The capotaz drew his face close to a lantern andscrutinized him. Then he said, very well.
The lad kissed his hand.
You shall sleep in one of the wagons tonight,added the capotaz, as he quitted him,
tomorrow morning, at four o'clock, I will wakeyou. Good night.
At four o'clock in the morning, by the light ofthe stars, the long string of wagons was set inmotion with a great noise,
each cart was drawn by six oxen, and all werefollowed by a great number of spare animals for achange.
The boy, who had been awakened and placed in oneof the carts, on the sacks, instantly fell againinto a deep sleep.
過酷な隊商の旅
When he awoke, the convoy had halted in a solitaryspot, full in the sun, and all the men, thepeones,
were seated round a quarter of calf, which wasroasting in the open air, beside a large fire,which was flickering in the wind.
They all ate together, took a nap, and then setout again, and thus the journey continued,regulated like a march of soldiers.
Every morning they set out on the road at five o'clock, halted at nine, set out again at five o'clock in the evening, and halted again at ten.
The peones rode on horseback, and stimulated theoxen with long goads.
The boy lighted the fire for the roasting, gavethe beasts their fodder, polished up the lanterns,and brought water for drinking.
The landscape passed before him like an indistinctvision, vast groves of little brown trees,villages consisting of a few scattered houses,
with red and battle-minted facades, very vasttracks, possibly the ancient beds of great saltlakes,
which gleamed white with salt as far as the eyecould reach, and on every hand, and always, theprairie, solitude, silence.
On very rare occasions they encountered two orthree travellers on horseback, followed by a herdof picked horses, who passed them at a gallop,like a whirlwind.
The days were all alike, as at sea, wearisome andinterminable, but the weather was fine.
But the peones became more and more exacting everyday, as though the lad were their bond-slave.
Some of them treated him brutally, with threats,all forced him to serve them without mercy, theymade him carry enormous bundles of forage,
they sent him to get water at great distances, andhe, broken with fatigue, could not even sleep atnight,
continually tossed about as he was by the violentjolts of the wagon, and the deafening groaning ofthe wheels and wooden axles.
And in addition to this, the wind having risen, afine, reddish, greasy dust, which envelopedeverything, penetrated the wagon,
made its way under the covers, filled his eyes andmouth, robbed him of sight and breath, constantly,oppressively, insupportably.
Worn out with toil and lack of sleep, reduced torags and dirt, reproached and ill-treated frommorning till night,
the poor boy grew every day more dejected, andwould have lost heart entirely if the capitaz hadnot addressed a kind word to him now and then.
He often wept, unseen, in a corner of the wagon,with his face against his bag, which no longercontained anything but rags.
Every morning he rose weaker and more discouraged,and as he looked out over the country, and beheldalways the same boundless and implacable plain,
like a terrestrial ocean, he said to himself, Ah,I shall not hold out until to-night. I shall nothold out until to-night.
Today I shall die on the road. And his toilincreased, his ill-treatment was redoubled.
One morning, in the absence of the capitaz, one ofthe men struck him, because he had delayed infetching the water.
And then they all began to take turns at it, whenthey gave him an order, dealing him a kick,saying, Take that, you vagabond. Carry that toyour mother.