He was angry, and cursed his luck aloud. He had hoped to get into camp with the boys at six o'clock, and this would delay him an hour, for he would have to build a fire and dry out his foot-gear. This was imperative at that low temperature—he knew that much; and he turned aside to the bank, which he climbed. On top, tangled in the underbrush about the trunks of several small spruce trees, was a high-water deposit of dry firewood—sticks and twigs principally, but also larger portions of seasoned branches and fine, dry, last-year's grasses. He threw down several large pieces on top of the snow. This served for a foundation and prevented the young flame from drowning itself in the snow it otherwise would melt. The flame he got by touching a match to a small shred of birch-bark that he took from his pocket. This burned even more readily than paper. Placing it on the foundation, he fed the young flame with wisps of dry grass and with the tiniest dry twigs.
男は腹を立て、声に出して自分の運をののしった。六時には野営地で仲間たちと一緒になるつもりだったのに、これで一時間遅れる。火をたいて、はき物を乾かさなければならないからだ。この寒さでは、それがどうしても必要だった。それくらいのことは知っていた。男は川岸へ向かい、土手をよじのぼった。土手の上には、何本かの小さなトウヒの幹のまわりの下草にからまって、増水で運ばれてきた乾いたたきぎがたまっていた。たいていは棒切れや小枝だったが、もっと太い、よく乾いた枝や、去年の細い枯れ草もあった。男は太いのをいくつか雪の上に投げ落とした。これを土台にすれば、生まれたばかりの小さな炎が、自分でとかした雪の中で溺れずにすむ。炎は、ポケットから出した小さな樺の皮の切れはしにマッチで火をつけて、手に入れた。樺の皮は紙よりもよく燃えた。それを土台の上に置き、乾いた草の束や、ごく細い乾いた小枝をくべて、小さな炎を育てた。
He worked slowly and carefully, keenly aware of his danger. Gradually, as the flame grew stronger, he increased the size of the twigs with which he fed it. He squatted in the snow, pulling the twigs out from their entanglement in the brush and feeding directly to the flame. He knew there must be no failure. When it is seventy-five below zero, a man must not fail in his first attempt to build a fire—that is, if his feet are wet. If his feet are dry, and he fails, he can run along the trail for half a mile and restore his circulation. But the circulation of wet and freezing feet cannot be restored by running when it is seventy-five below. No matter how fast he runs, the wet feet will freeze the harder.
男は、自分の身が危ないことを痛いほどわかっていた。だから、ゆっくり、ていねいに手を動かした。炎が強くなるにつれ、くべる小枝を少しずつ太くしていった。雪の中にしゃがみこみ、やぶにからまった小枝を引き抜いては、じかに炎にくべた。しくじりは許されないとわかっていた。零下七十五度のときは、最初の火おこしにしくじってはならないのだ。足がぬれている場合は、である。足が乾いていれば、しくじっても、道を半マイル走れば血のめぐりを取り戻せる。だが零下七十五度では、ぬれて凍りかけた足の血のめぐりは、走っても取り戻せない。どんなに速く走っても、ぬれた足はますます固く凍るだけだ。
All this the man knew. The old-timer on Sulphur Creek had told him about it the previous fall, and now he was appreciating the advice. Already all sensation had gone out of his feet. To build the fire he had been forced to remove his mittens, and the fingers had quickly gone numb. His pace of four miles an hour had kept his heart pumping blood to the surface of his body and to all the extremities. But the instant he stopped, the action of the pump eased down. The cold of space smote the unprotected tip of the planet, and he, being on that unprotected tip, received the full force of the blow. The blood of his body recoiled before it. The blood was alive, like the dog, and like the dog it wanted to hide away and cover itself up from the fearful cold. So long as he walked four miles an hour, he pumped that blood, willy-nilly, to the surface; but now it ebbed away and sank down into the recesses of his body. The extremities were the first to feel its absence. His wet feet froze the faster, and his exposed fingers numbed the faster, though they had not yet begun to freeze. Nose and cheeks were already freezing, while the skin of all his body chilled as it lost its blood.
男はそれをみな知っていた。サルファー・クリークの古顔が、前の年の秋に教えてくれたのだ。いま、その忠告のありがたさが身にしみていた。足の感覚はもうすっかりなくなっていた。火をおこすためにミトンをはずさなければならず、指はたちまちしびれた。一時間四マイルで歩いていたあいだは、心臓が体の表面や手足の先まで血を送り続けていた。だが立ち止まったとたん、そのポンプの働きがゆるんだ。宇宙の寒さが、むき出しになったこの惑星の果てを打ちすえた。その果てにいる男は、その一撃をまともに受けた。男の体の血は、寒さの前にしりごみした。血は生きていた。犬と同じように生きていて、犬と同じように、恐ろしい寒さから身を隠し、くるまっていたがった。一時間四マイルで歩いているあいだは、男は否応なく血を体の表面へ送り出していた。だがいまは、血が引いて、体の奥深くへ沈んでいった。まっさきに血がなくなったのを感じたのは、手足の先だった。ぬれた足はいっそう早く凍り、むき出しの指はいっそう早くしびれた。指はまだ凍りはじめてはいなかったが。鼻と頬はもう凍りはじめていた。体じゅうの皮膚も、血をなくして冷えていった。
But he was safe. Toes and nose and cheeks would be only touched by the frost, for the fire was beginning to burn with strength. He was feeding it with twigs the size of his finger. In another minute he would be able to feed it with branches the size of his wrist, and then he could remove his wet foot-gear, and, while it dried, he could keep his naked feet warm by the fire, rubbing them at first, of course, with snow. The fire was a success. He was safe. He remembered the advice of the old-timer on Sulphur Creek, and smiled. The old-timer had been very serious in laying down the law that no man must travel alone in the Klondike after fifty below. Well, here he was; he had had the accident; he was alone; and he had saved himself. Those old-timers were rather womanish, some of them, he thought. All a man had to do was to keep his head, and he was all right. Any man who was a man could travel alone. But it was surprising, the rapidity with which his cheeks and nose were freezing. And he had not thought his fingers could go lifeless in so short a time. Lifeless they were, for he could scarcely make them move together to grip a twig, and they seemed remote from his body and from him. When he touched a twig, he had to look and see whether or not he had hold of it. The wires were pretty well down between him and his finger-ends.
だが、男は助かったのだ。足の指も鼻も頬も、霜に軽くやられるだけですむだろう。火が勢いよく燃えはじめていたからだ。いまは指ほどの太さの小枝をくべていた。あと一分もすれば、手首ほどの太さの枝をくべられる。そうなれば、ぬれたはき物を脱ぎ、それが乾くあいだ、素足を火で温めていられる。もちろん、初めに雪でこすってからだ。火おこしはうまくいった。男は助かったのだ。サルファー・クリークの古顔の忠告を思い出して、男はにやりとした。古顔はひどくまじめな顔で、零下五十度を超えたら、クロンダイクでは誰も一人で旅をしてはならない、と言いわたしたのだった。どうだ、このとおりだ。事故にあい、ひとりきりで、それでも自分の身を救ったではないか。ああいう古顔の中には、女みたいに心配性な連中もいるものだ、と男は思った。頭を冷やしてさえいれば、それで大丈夫なのだ。一人前の男なら、誰だってひとりで旅ができる。それにしても、頬と鼻が凍っていく速さには驚いた。それに、こんなに短いあいだに指が死んだようになるとは思わなかった。指は本当に死んだようになっていた。小枝をつかもうにも、指をそろえることがほとんどできない。指は自分の体からも、自分自身からも、遠く離れたもののように思えた。小枝にさわると、つかんでいるかどうか、目で見て確かめなければならなかった。自分と指先とをつなぐ電線は、ほとんど切れてしまっていた。
All of which counted for little. There was the fire, snapping and crackling and promising life with every dancing flame. He started to untie his moccasins. They were coated with ice; the thick German socks were like sheaths of iron half-way to the knees; and the mocassin strings were like rods of steel all twisted and knotted as by some conflagration. For a moment he tugged with his numbed fingers, then, realizing the folly of it, he drew his sheath-knife.
だが、そんなことはどうでもよかった。火があるのだ。ぱちぱちとはぜ、踊る炎のひとつひとつが、命を約束していた。男はモカシンのひもをほどきにかかった。モカシンは氷で覆われていた。厚いドイツ製の靴下は、ひざまでの半分ほどが、鉄のさやのようになっていた。モカシンのひもは、大火事にでもあったように、ねじれて結ぼれた鋼鉄の棒のようだった。男はしばらく、しびれた指でひもを引っぱっていたが、そんなことをしてもむだだと気づいて、さやからナイフを抜いた。
But before he could cut the strings, it happened. It was his own fault or, rather, his mistake. He should not have built the fire under the spruce tree. He should have built it in the open. But it had been easier to pull the twigs from the brush and drop them directly on the fire. Now the tree under which he had done this carried a weight of snow on its boughs. No wind had blown for weeks, and each bough was fully freighted. Each time he had pulled a twig he had communicated a slight agitation to the tree—an imperceptible agitation, so far as he was concerned, but an agitation sufficient to bring about the disaster. High up in the tree one bough capsized its load of snow. This fell on the boughs beneath, capsizing them. This process continued, spreading out and involving the whole tree. It grew like an avalanche, and it descended without warning upon the man and the fire, and the fire was blotted out! Where it had burned was a mantle of fresh and disordered snow.
だが、ひもを切る前に、それは起きた。男自身のせいだった。いや、男の判断の誤りだった。トウヒの木の下で火をたいてはいけなかったのだ。ひらけた場所でたくべきだった。だが、やぶから小枝を引き抜いて、そのまま火にくべるほうが楽だったのだ。ところが、その下で火をたいた木は、枝に雪を重く積もらせていた。何週間も風が吹かなかったので、どの枝にも雪がめいっぱい積もっていた。小枝を引き抜くたびに、男は木をかすかに揺らしていた。男にはわからないほどの揺れだった。だが、災いを引き起こすには十分な揺れだった。木の高いところで、一本の枝が、積もった雪をひっくり返した。雪はその下の枝々に落ちて、それをひっくり返した。それがくりかえされ、広がって、木全体を巻きこんでいった。雪は雪崩のようにふくれあがり、何の前ぶれもなく男と火の上に落ちてきた。そして火は消されてしまった！ 火の燃えていたところには、乱れた新しい雪が積もっていた。
The man was shocked. It was as though he had just heard his own sentence of death. For a moment he sat and stared at the spot where the fire had been. Then he grew very calm. Perhaps the old-timer on Sulphur Creek was right. If he had only had a trail-mate he would have been in no danger now. The trail-mate could have built the fire. Well, it was up to him to build the fire over again, and this second time there must be no failure. Even if he succeeded, he would most likely lose some toes. His feet must be badly frozen by now, and there would be some time before the second fire was ready.
男はぼうぜんとした。自分の死刑の宣告を聞いたような気がした。しばらくのあいだ、座ったまま、火のあった場所を見つめていた。それから、ひどく落ちついた気持ちになった。サルファー・クリークの古顔の言うとおりだったのかもしれない。道連れさえいれば、いまごろ何の危険もなかっただろう。道連れが火をおこしてくれたはずだ。さて、もう一度火をおこすのは自分の役目だ。そして二度目は、しくじりは許されない。たとえうまくいっても、たぶん足の指を何本かなくすことになるだろう。足はもうひどく凍っているにちがいない。それに、二度目の火ができるまでには、しばらくかかるのだ。
Such were his thoughts, but he did not sit and think them. He was busy all the time they were passing through his mind, he made a new foundation for a fire, this time in the open; where no treacherous tree could blot it out. Next, he gathered dry grasses and tiny twigs from the high-water flotsam. He could not bring his fingers together to pull them out, but he was able to gather them by the handful. In this way he got many rotten twigs and bits of green moss that were undesirable, but it was the best he could do. He worked methodically, even collecting an armful of the larger branches to be used later when the fire gathered strength. And all the while the dog sat and watched him, a certain yearning wistfulness in its eyes, for it looked upon him as the fire-provider, and the fire was slow in coming.
男はそう考えた。だが、座って考えていたわけではない。考えが頭をよぎるあいだも、ずっと手を動かしていた。新しい火の土台をつくった。今度はひらけた場所に、裏切り者の木に火を消されることのないところにだ。次に、増水で流れついたものの中から、乾いた草と細い小枝を集めた。指をそろえてつまみとることはできなかったが、ひとつかみずつかき集めることはできた。そのやり方だと、腐った小枝や緑の苔のかけらなど、ありがたくないものもたくさん混じった。だが、それが精いっぱいだった。男は順序よく作業を進め、火が勢いづいたらくべる太い枝まで、ひとかかえ集めた。そのあいだずっと、犬は座って男を見ていた。その目には、何か切なげな、待ちこがれるような色が浮かんでいた。犬は男を、火をくれる者だと思っていた。それなのに、火はなかなか出てこなかったのだ。
When all was ready, the man reached in his pocket for a second piece of birch-bark. He knew the bark was there, and, though he could not feel it with his fingers, he could hear its crisp rustling as he fumbled for it. Try as he would, he could not clutch hold of it. And all the time, in his consciousness, was the knowledge that each instant his feet were freezing. This thought tended to put him in a panic, but he fought against it and kept calm. He pulled on his mittens with his teeth, and threshed his arms back and forth, beating his hands with all his might against his sides. He did this sitting down, and he stood up to do it; and all the while the dog sat in the snow, its wolf-brush of a tail curled around warmly over its forefeet, its sharp wolf-ears pricked forward intently as it watched the man. And the man as he beat and threshed with his arms and hands, felt a great surge of envy as he regarded the creature that was warm and secure in its natural covering.
支度がすっかりととのうと、男は二枚目の樺の皮を取ろうと、ポケットに手を入れた。皮がそこにあることはわかっていた。指では感じられなくても、手探りすると、かさかさという乾いた音が聞こえた。だが、どうがんばってもつかめなかった。そのあいだずっと、頭の中には、一瞬ごとに足が凍っていくのだ、という思いがあった。そう思うと、うろたえそうになった。だが男はそれと闘って、落ちつきを保った。歯でミトンを引っぱってはめ、腕を前後に振りまわし、力いっぱい両手をわき腹にたたきつけた。座ったままそうし、立ち上がってもそうした。そのあいだずっと、犬は雪の上に座っていた。狼のようなふさふさした尻尾を、前足の上にぬくぬくと巻きつけ、狼のようなとがった耳をぴんと前に立てて、じっと男を見ていた。男は腕と手を振りまわし、たたきつけながら、天然の毛皮にくるまって温かく、安全にしているその生き物を見ていた。すると、激しいねたましさがこみ上げてきた。
After a time he was aware of the first far-away signals of sensation in his beaten fingers. The faint tingling grew stronger till it evolved into a stinging ache that was excruciating, but which the man hailed with satisfaction. He stripped the mitten from his right hand and fetched forth the birch-bark. The exposed fingers were quickly going numb again. Next he brought out his bunch of sulphur matches. But the tremendous cold had already driven the life out of his fingers. In his effort to separate one match from the others, the whole bunch fell in the snow. He tried to pick it out of the snow, but failed. The dead fingers could neither touch nor clutch. He was very careful. He drove the thought of his freezing feet; and nose, and cheeks, out of his mind, devoting his whole soul to the matches. He watched, using the sense of vision in place of that of touch, and when he saw his fingers on each side the bunch, he closed them—that is, he willed to close them, for the wires were drawn, and the fingers did not obey. He pulled the mitten on the right hand, and beat it fiercely against his knee. Then, with both mittened hands, he scooped the bunch of matches, along with much snow, into his lap. Yet he was no better off.
しばらくすると、たたき続けた指に、はるか遠くから、かすかに感覚が戻ってくる合図が届いた。かすかなうずきはだんだん強くなり、やがて耐えがたいほど刺すような痛みになった。だが男は、それを満足して迎えた。右手のミトンをはぎとって、樺の皮を取り出した。むき出しの指は、またたちまちしびれていった。次に、硫黄マッチの束を取り出した。だが、すさまじい寒さは、もう指から命を追い出してしまっていた。一本のマッチを束から離そうとしているうちに、束ごと雪の中に落としてしまった。雪の中から拾い上げようとしたが、だめだった。死んだ指は、さわることも、つかむこともできなかった。男はとても慎重になった。凍っていく足や、鼻や、頬のことは頭から追い出して、魂のすべてをマッチに注いだ。さわる感覚のかわりに、目を使った。指が束の両側にあるのを見て、指を閉じた。いや、閉じようと念じた。電線が切れていて、指は言うことを聞かなかったからだ。男は右手にミトンをはめ、ひざに激しくたたきつけた。それから、ミトンをはめた両手で、マッチの束をたくさんの雪ごと、ひざの上にすくい上げた。それでも、少しもよくはならなかった。
After some manipulation he managed to get the bunch between the heels of his mittened hands. In this fashion he carried it to his mouth. The ice crackled and snapped when by a violent effort he opened his mouth. He drew the lower jaw in, curled the upper lip out of the way, and scraped the bunch with his upper teeth in order to separate a match. He succeeded in getting one, which he dropped on his lap. He was no better off. He could not pick it up. Then he devised a way. He picked it up in his teeth and scratched it on his leg. Twenty times he scratched before he succeeded in lighting it. As it flamed he held it with his teeth to the birch-bark. But the burning brimstone went up his nostrils and into his lungs, causing him to cough spasmodically. The match fell into the snow and went out.
あれこれやってみたすえに、ミトンをはめた両手のつけ根のあいだに、なんとか束をはさめた。そうやって束を口まで運んだ。力ずくで口を開けると、口のまわりの氷がぱりぱりと割れた。下あごを引き、上唇をめくり上げて、マッチを一本離そうと、上の歯で束をこすった。一本とれたので、それをひざに落とした。それでも、少しもよくはならなかった。拾い上げられないのだ。そこで男は、ひとつ方法を考えた。マッチを歯でくわえて、脚にこすりつけたのだ。二十回こすって、やっと火がついた。燃え上がると、歯でくわえたまま樺の皮に近づけた。だが、燃える硫黄の煙が鼻から肺に入り、男は発作のように咳きこんだ。マッチは雪の中に落ちて消えた。
The old-timer on Sulphur Creek was right, he thought in the moment of controlled despair that ensued: after fifty below, a man should travel with a partner. He beat his hands, but failed in exciting any sensation. Suddenly he bared both hands, removing the mittens with his teeth. He caught the whole bunch between the heels of his hands. His arm-muscles not being frozen enabled him to press the hand-heels tightly against the matches. Then he scratched the bunch along his leg. It flared into flame, seventy sulphur matches at once! There was no wind to blow them out. He kept his head to one side to escape the strangling fumes, and held the blazing bunch to the birch-bark. As he so held it, he became aware of sensation in his hand. His flesh was burning. He could smell it. Deep down below the surface he could feel it. The sensation developed into pain that grew acute. And still he endured it, holding the flame of the matches clumsily to the bark that would not light readily because his own burning hands were in the way, absorbing most of the flame.
サルファー・クリークの古顔の言うとおりだった、と、そのあとの、絶望をこらえた瞬間に男は思った。零下五十度を超えたら、相棒と一緒に旅をするべきなのだ。男は両手をたたいたが、何の感覚も呼び起こせなかった。いきなり男は、歯でミトンをはずして、両手をむき出しにした。両手のつけ根のあいだに、マッチの束をまるごとはさんだ。腕の筋肉は凍っていなかったので、手のつけ根をマッチにしっかり押しつけることができた。それから束を脚にこすりつけた。束はぱっと燃え上がった。七十本の硫黄マッチが、いっぺんに！ 吹き消す風はなかった。むせかえる煙をよけて顔をわきへそむけ、燃えさかる束を樺の皮に近づけた。そうしているうちに、手に感覚が戻ってくるのがわかった。肉が焼けているのだ。においがした。皮膚の奥深くで、それが感じられた。その感覚は痛みに変わり、どんどん激しくなった。それでも男はこらえ、マッチの炎をぎこちなく樺の皮にあて続けた。だが、焼けている自分の手がじゃまをして、炎をほとんど吸いとってしまうので、皮はなかなか燃えつかなかった。
At last, when he could endure no more, he jerked his hands apart. The blazing matches fell sizzling into the snow, but the birch-bark was alight. He began laying dry grasses and the tiniest twigs on the flame. He could not pick and choose, for he had to lift the fuel between the heels of his hands. Small pieces of rotten wood and green moss clung to the twigs, and he bit them off as well as he could with his teeth. He cherished the flame carefully and awkwardly. It meant life, and it must not perish. The withdrawal of blood from the surface of his body now made him begin to shiver, and he grew more awkward. A large piece of green moss fell squarely on the little fire. He tried to poke it out with his fingers, but his shivering frame made him poke too far, and he disrupted the nucleus of the little fire, the burning grasses and tiny twigs separating and scattering. He tried to poke them together again, but in spite of the tenseness of the effort, his shivering got away with him, and the twigs were hopelessly scattered. Each twig gushed a puff of smoke and went out. The fire-provider had failed. As he looked apathetically about him, his eyes chanced on the dog, sitting across the ruins of the fire from him, in the snow, making restless, hunching movements, slightly lifting one forefoot and then the other, shifting its weight back and forth on them with wistful eagerness.
とうとう、もうこらえきれなくなって、男はぐいと両手を離した。燃えるマッチはじゅうっと音を立てて雪に落ちた。だが、樺の皮には火がついていた。男は乾いた草と、ごく細い小枝を、炎の上にのせはじめた。選んでいる余裕はなかった。手のつけ根のあいだにはさんで、燃やすものを持ち上げなければならなかったからだ。腐った木のかけらや緑の苔が小枝にくっついていたので、できるかぎり歯で噛みとった。男は炎を大事に、ぎこちなく守り育てた。この火は命だった。消してはならなかった。体の表面から血が引いていったせいで、男はふるえはじめ、ますますぎこちなくなった。大きな緑の苔のかたまりが、小さな火の真上に落ちた。指でつついてどけようとしたが、体がふるえているせいでつつきすぎ、小さな火の芯をくずしてしまった。燃えている草と細い小枝が、ばらばらに散らばった。もう一度つつき寄せようとした。必死に力をこめたのに、ふるえが言うことを聞かず、小枝はどうしようもなく散らばってしまった。小枝はひとつひとつ、ぷっと煙を吐いて消えた。火をくれる者は、しくじったのだ。男はぼんやりとあたりを見まわした。ふと犬が目に入った。火の残骸をはさんだ向こう側の雪の上に座り、落ちつきなく背を丸めるようなしぐさをしていた。片方の前足を少し上げ、また片方を上げ、待ちきれないように、体の重みを右へ左へと移していた。
The sight of the dog put a wild idea into his head. He remembered the tale of the man, caught in a blizzard, who killed a steer and crawled inside the carcass, and so was saved. He would kill the dog and bury his hands in the warm body until the numbness went out of them. Then he could build another fire. He spoke to the dog, calling it to him; but in his voice was a strange note of fear that frightened the animal, who had never known the man to speak in such way before. Something was the matter, and its suspicious nature sensed danger,—it knew not what danger but somewhere, somehow, in its brain arose an apprehension of the man. It flattened its ears down at the sound of the man's voice, and its restless, hunching movements and the liftings and shiftings of its forefeet became more pronounced but it would not come to the man. He got on his hands and knees and crawled toward the dog. This unusual posture again excited suspicion, and the animal sidled mincingly away.
犬の姿を見て、男の頭にとんでもない考えが浮かんだ。吹雪に巻きこまれた男が、牛を殺して、その死骸の中にもぐりこみ、それで助かったという話を思い出したのだ。犬を殺して、まだ温かいその体に両手をうずめ、しびれが抜けるまでそうしていよう。そうすれば、もう一度火をおこせる。男は犬に話しかけ、こっちへ来いと呼んだ。だがその声には、おびえの混じった、妙な響きがあった。それが犬を怖がらせた。男がそんなふうに話すのを、犬はこれまで一度も聞いたことがなかったのだ。何かがおかしかった。疑い深い犬は、危険をかぎとった。どんな危険かはわからなかった。だがどこかで、どういうわけか、犬の頭の中に、この男への不安がわき上がった。犬は男の声に耳を伏せた。背を丸めるしぐさや、前足を上げて重みを移すしぐさは、いっそう激しくなった。だが、男のところへは来ようとしなかった。男は四つんばいになって、犬のほうへ這っていった。このいつにない格好が、また犬の疑いをかき立てた。犬は、そろそろと横へ逃げていった。
The man sat up in the snow for a moment and struggled for calmness. Then he pulled on his mittens, by means of his teeth, and got upon his feet. He glanced down at first in order to assure himself that he was really standing up, for the absence of sensation in his feet left him unrelated to the earth. His erect position in itself started to drive the webs of suspicion from the dog's mind; and when he spoke peremptorily, with the sound of whip-lashes in his voice, the dog rendered its customary allegiance and came to him. As it came within reaching distance, the man lost his control. His arms flashed out to the dog, and he experienced genuine surprise when he discovered that his hands could not clutch, that there was neither bend nor feeling in the lingers. He had forgotten for the moment that they were frozen and that they were freezing more and more. All this happened quickly, and before the animal could get away, he encircled its body with his arms. He sat down in the snow, and in this fashion held the dog, while it snarled and whined and struggled.
男はしばらく雪の上に座りこみ、落ちつこうと必死になった。それから歯でミトンを引っぱってはめ、立ち上がった。初めは、本当に立っているのか確かめるために、下を見た。足の感覚がないので、地面とのつながりがわからなくなっていたのだ。男がまっすぐ立つと、それだけで、犬の心から疑いのくもの巣が払われはじめた。そして男が、鞭のような響きの声で、命令するように呼ぶと、犬はいつものように忠実に従い、男のところへやって来た。手の届くところまで来たとき、男は抑えがきかなくなった。両腕がさっと犬に伸びた。そして、手がつかめないこと、指が曲がりもせず、何も感じもしないことに気づいて、心底驚いた。指が凍っていること、ますます凍っていくことを、一瞬忘れていたのだ。何もかもがあっというまに起きた。犬が逃げる前に、男は両腕で犬の体を抱えこんだ。男は雪の上に座りこみ、そうやって犬を抱きかかえた。犬はうなり、鼻を鳴らし、もがいた。
But it was all he could do, hold its body encircled in his arms and sit there. He realized that he could not kill the dog. There was no way to do it. With his helpless hands he could neither draw nor hold his sheath-knife nor throttle the animal. He released it, and it plunged wildly away, with tail between its legs, and still snarling. It halted forty feet away and surveyed him curiously, with ears sharply pricked forward. The man looked down at his hands in order to locate them, and found them hanging on the ends of his arms. It struck him as curious that one should have to use his eyes in order to find out where his hands were. He began threshing his arms back and forth, beating the mittened hands against his sides. He did this for five minutes, violently, and his heart pumped enough blood up to the surface to put a stop to his shivering. But no sensation was aroused in the hands. He had an impression that they hung like weights on the ends of his arms, but when he tried to run the impression down, he could not find it.
だが、男にできるのはそれだけだった。腕で犬の体を抱えこんで、座っていることだけだった。犬を殺せない、と男はさとった。殺す手だてがないのだ。役に立たない手では、ナイフを抜くことも、握ることも、犬の首をしめることもできない。男が犬を放すと、犬は尻尾を脚のあいだに巻きこみ、まだうなりながら、猛然と逃げていった。四十フィート離れたところで止まり、耳をぴんと前に立てて、いぶかしげに男を眺めた。男は自分の手がどこにあるか確かめようと下を見て、それが腕の先にぶらさがっているのを見つけた。手がどこにあるかを知るのに、目を使わなければならないとは、妙なものだと男は思った。男は腕を前後に振りまわし、ミトンをはめた手をわき腹にたたきつけはじめた。五分間、激しくそうすると、心臓が体の表面まで血を十分に送り出して、ふるえが止まった。だが、手には何の感覚も戻ってこなかった。手がおもりのように腕の先にぶらさがっている気はした。だが、その感じがどこにあるのか突きとめようとすると、見つからなかった。
A certain fear of death, dull and oppressive, came to him. This fear quickly became poignant as he realized that it was no longer a mere matter of freezing his fingers and toes, or of losing his hands and feet, but that it was a matter of life and death with the chances against him. This threw him into a panic, and he turned and ran up the creek-bed along the old, dim trail. The dog joined in behind and kept up with him. He ran blindly, without intention, in fear such as he had never known in his life. Slowly, as he ploughed and floundered through the snow, he began to see things again—the banks of the creek, the old timber-jams, the leafless aspens, and the sky. The running made him feel better. He did not shiver. Maybe, if he ran on, his feet would thaw out; and, anyway, if he ran far enough, he would reach camp and the boys. Without doubt he would lose some fingers and toes and some of his face; but the boys would take care of him, and save the rest of him when he got there. And at the same time there was another thought in his mind that said he would never get to the camp and the boys; that it was too many miles away, that the freezing had too great a start on him, and that he would soon be stiff and dead. This thought he kept in the background and refused to consider. Sometimes it pushed itself forward and demanded to be heard, but he thrust it back and strove to think of other things.
ぼんやりとした、重苦しい死の恐怖が、男を襲った。これはもう、手足の指が凍るとか、手足をなくすとかいうことではない。生きるか死ぬかの問題で、しかも勝ち目は薄いのだ。そう気づくと、恐怖はたちまち鋭くなった。男はうろたえ、向きを変えて、かすかな古い道をたどって川床を駆けのぼった。犬も後ろについて走り、遅れずについてきた。男はやみくもに、あてもなく走った。生まれてから一度も味わったことのない恐怖にかられていた。雪をかき分け、もがきながら進むうちに、少しずつまた、まわりのものが目に入るようになってきた。川の両岸、古い流木のたまり、葉の落ちたポプラ、そして空。走ると気分がよくなった。ふるえはなかった。このまま走り続ければ、足もとけるかもしれない。どっちにしても、十分遠くまで走れば、野営地に、仲間たちのところに着ける。手足の指を何本かと、顔の一部をなくすのは間違いないだろう。だが着きさえすれば、仲間たちが面倒をみて、残りの体を救ってくれるだろう。それと同時に、男の頭には、もうひとつの考えがあった。おまえはけっして野営地にも、仲間たちのところにも着けない。何マイルも遠すぎる。凍えはもうずっと先まで進んでいる。おまえはもうすぐこわばって死ぬのだ。男はこの考えを奥へ押しやり、考えまいとした。ときどき、その考えが前に出てきて、聞けと迫った。だが男はそれを押し戻し、ほかのことを考えようと努めた。
It struck him as curious that he could run at all on feet so frozen that he could not feel them when they struck the earth and took the weight of his body. He seemed to himself to skim along above the surface and to have no connection with the earth. Somewhere he had once seen a winged Mercury, and he wondered if Mercury felt as he felt when skimming over the earth.
足はすっかり凍って、地面を踏み、体の重みを受けとめても、何も感じない。それなのに走れるとは妙なものだ、と男は思った。地面の上をすべるように飛んでいて、大地とは何のつながりもないように思えた。いつかどこかで、翼のあるメルクリウスの像を見たことがあった。メルクリウスも、大地の上をすべるように飛ぶとき、こんな気分だったのだろうか、と男は思った。
His theory of running until he reached camp and the boys had one flaw in it: he lacked the endurance. Several times he stumbled, and finally he tottered, crumpled up, and fell. When he tried to rise, he failed. He must sit and rest, he decided, and next time he would merely walk and keep on going. As he sat and regained his breath, he noted that he was feeling quite warm and comfortable. He was not shivering, and it even seemed that a warm glow had come to his chest and trunk. And yet, when he touched his nose or cheeks, there was no sensation. Running would not thaw them out. Nor would it thaw out his hands and feet. Then the thought came to him that the frozen portions of his body must be extending. He tried to keep this thought down, to forget it, to think of something else; he was aware of the panicky feeling that it caused, and he was afraid of the panic. But the thought asserted itself, and persisted, until it produced a vision of his body totally frozen. This was too much, and he made another wild run along the trail. Once he slowed down to a walk, but the thought of the freezing extending itself made him run again.
野営地と仲間たちのところに着くまで走り続けるという男の考えには、ひとつ欠点があった。そこまで走りとおす体力がなかったのだ。何度かつまずき、とうとうよろめいて、くずれるように倒れた。起き上がろうとしたが、起き上がれなかった。座って休まなければ、と男は決めた。次は、ただ歩いて、進み続けることにしよう。座って息をととのえていると、男は気づいた。けっこう温かく、心地よいのだ。ふるえていなかった。胸や胴が、ぽかぽかと温かくなってきたようにさえ思えた。それなのに、鼻や頬にさわっても、何の感覚もなかった。走っても、ここはとけないだろう。手や足もとけないだろう。そのとき、体の凍ったところが広がっているにちがいない、という考えが浮かんだ。男はこの考えを抑えつけ、忘れ、ほかのことを考えようとした。この考えがうろたえる気持ちを呼び起こすのがわかっていて、男はそれが怖かったのだ。だが、その考えはしつこく居すわり、とうとう全身が凍りついた自分の姿を目の前に浮かび上がらせた。これにはとても耐えられなかった。男はまた、やみくもに道を走りだした。一度は足をゆるめて歩いたが、凍えが広がっていくという考えに追い立てられて、また走りだした。
And all the time the dog ran with him, at his heels. When he fell down a second time, it curled its tail over its forefeet and sat in front of him facing him curiously eager and intent. The warmth and security of the animal angered him, and he cursed it till it flattened down its ears appeasingly. This time the shivering came more quickly upon the man. He was losing in his battle with the frost. It was creeping into his body from all sides. The thought of it drove him on, but he ran no more than a hundred feet, when he staggered and pitched headlong. It was his last panic. When he had recovered his breath and control, he sat up and entertained in his mind the conception of meeting death with dignity. However, the conception did not come to him in such terms. His idea of it was that he had been making a fool of himself, running around like a chicken with its head cut off—such was the simile that occurred to him. Well, he was bound to freeze anyway, and he might as well take it decently. With this new-found peace of mind came the first glimmerings of drowsiness. A good idea, he thought, to sleep off to death. It was like taking an anæsthetic. Freezing was not so bad as people thought. There were lots worse ways to die.
そのあいだずっと、犬は男のかかとについて走っていた。男が二度目に倒れると、犬は尻尾を前足の上に巻いて、男の正面に座り、ふしぎそうに、熱心に、じっと男を見つめた。犬が温かく、安全にしているのを見て、男は腹が立った。そして、犬がご機嫌をとるように耳を伏せるまで、ののしった。今度は、ふるえが前より早く男を襲った。男は寒さとの戦いに負けかけていた。寒さは四方八方から体に忍びこんできていた。そう思うと、また駆りたてられた。だが百フィートも走らないうちによろめいて、頭から前のめりに倒れた。それが男の、最後のうろたえだった。息と落ちつきを取り戻すと、男は身を起こして座り、威厳をもって死を迎えるという考えを心に抱いた。もっとも、そんな言葉で浮かんだわけではない。男が思ったのは、首を切られた鶏のように走りまわって、自分はばかなまねをしていた、ということだった。男の頭に浮かんだたとえは、そういうものだった。まあ、どうせ凍え死ぬことは決まっているのだから、見苦しくなく受け入れたほうがいい。こうして新しく手に入れた心の安らぎと一緒に、眠気の最初のかすかなきざしがやって来た。眠ったまま死んでいくのは悪くない、と男は思った。麻酔をかけられるようなものだ。凍え死にというのは、みんなが思うほど悪いものではない。もっとひどい死に方はいくらでもある。
He pictured the boys finding his body next day. Suddenly he found himself with them, coming along the trail and looking for himself. And, still with them, he came around a turn in the trail and found himself lying in the snow. He did not belong with himself any more, for even then he was out of himself, standing with the boys and looking at himself in the snow. It certainly was cold, was his thought. When he got back to the States he could tell the folks what real cold was. He drifted on from this to a vision of the old-timer on Sulphur Creek. He could see him quite clearly, warm and comfortable, and smoking a pipe.
男は、仲間たちが次の日に自分の死体を見つけるところを思い浮かべた。ふと気がつくと、自分も仲間たちと一緒にいて、道をやって来て、自分自身を探していた。そしてまだ仲間たちと一緒に、道の曲がり角をまわると、雪の中に横たわっている自分を見つけた。男はもう、自分自身の中にはいなかった。そのときにはもう自分の外に出ていて、仲間たちと一緒に立ち、雪の中の自分を見おろしていたからだ。たしかに寒いな、と男は思った。国に帰ったら、本当の寒さとはどんなものか、みんなに話してやれるだろう。そこから思いはただよって、サルファー・クリークの古顔の姿が浮かんだ。古顔の姿はかなりはっきり見えた。温かく、心地よさそうにして、パイプをくゆらせていた。
"You were right, old hoss; you were right," the man mumbled to the old-timer of Sulphur Creek.
「あんたの言うとおりだったよ、じいさん。あんたの言うとおりだった」と男は、サルファー・クリークの古顔に向かってつぶやいた。
Then the man drowsed off into what seemed to him the most comfortable and satisfying sleep he had ever known. The dog sat facing him and waiting. The brief day drew to a close in a long, slow twilight. There were no signs of a fire to be made, and, besides, never in the dog's experience had it known a man to sit like that in the snow and make no fire. As the twilight drew on, its eager yearning for the fire mastered it, and with a great lifting and shifting of forefeet, it whined softly, then flattened its ears down in anticipation of being chidden by the man. But the man remained silent. Later, the dog whined loudly. And still later it crept close to the man and caught the scent of death. This made the animal bristle and back away. A little longer it delayed, howling under the stars that leaped and danced and shone brightly in the cold sky. Then it turned and trotted up the trail in the direction of the camp it knew, where were the other food-providers and fire-providers.
それから男は、うとうとと眠りに落ちていった。これまで味わったことのないほど心地よく、満ち足りた眠りに思えた。犬は男と向き合って座り、待っていた。短い昼が、長くゆるやかな薄明かりの中で終わろうとしていた。火がおこされる気配はなかった。それに、人間がこんなふうに雪の中に座って、火もおこさずにいるのを、犬はこれまで見たことがなかった。薄明かりが深まるにつれ、火がほしくてたまらない気持ちが、犬を支配した。犬は前足を大きく上げては重みを移しながら、小さく鼻を鳴らした。それから、男に叱られるのを待つように、耳を伏せた。だが男は黙ったままだった。しばらくして、犬は大きく鼻を鳴らした。さらにしばらくして、男のそばへにじり寄り、死のにおいをかぎとった。犬は毛を逆立てて後ずさりした。犬はもう少しのあいだ、その場にぐずぐずとどまって、寒い空で踊り跳ね、明るく輝く星々の下で遠吠えした。それから向きを変え、自分の知っている野営地のほうへ、道を小走りに去っていった。そこには、ほかの食べ物をくれる者たち、火をくれる者たちがいるのだった。
