UN AVENI A LA PONTE DE LA RIO BU
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Capitol 3

Mostra ance la testo orijinal

En cuando Peyton Farquhar cada direta a su tra la ponte el perde consensia e es como ja mor. De esta state el es veliada – pos edas, lo pare a el – par la dole de un presa agu sur sua garga, seguida par un sensa de sofoca. Angusas agu e perforante pare corsa de sua colo a su tra cada fibre de sua tronco e membros. Esta doles pare flaxi longo linias bon definida de rami, e bati con un periodalia nonconsetable rapida. Los pare como flues de foco pulsante cual caldi el a un temperatur nontolerable. Sur sua testa, el es consensa de no cosa estra un sensa de plenia – de conjesta. Esta sensas no es acompaniada par pensa. La parte inteletal de sua natur es ja canselada; el ave sola la capas de sensa, e la sensa es la tormenta. El es consensa de la move. Ensircada en un nube luminosa, de cual el es aora mera la core focosa, sin sustantia material, el move tra arcos nonpensable de osila, como un pendulo grande. Alora, con subitia xocante, la lumina sirca el asende flax con la sona de un salpica forte; un ruji asustante es en sua oreas, e tota es fria e oscur. La capas de pensa es restorada; el sabe ce la corda ia rompe e ce el ia cade a en la rio. On no ave la strangula ajuntada; la laso sirca sua colo sofoca el ja e preveni ce la acua entra sua pulmones. Ce el ta mori de pende a la basa de un rio! – la idea pare asurda a el. El abri sua oios en la oscuria e vide supra el un brilia de lus, ma tan distante, tan nonasedable! El afonda ancora, con ce la lus deveni plu e plu cuieta asta cuando lo es mera un sintil. Alora lo comensa crese e lumina, e el sabe ce el es en asende a la surfas – el sabe lo con nonvolentia, perce el es aora multe confortable. “Ce me ta es pendeda e afocada;” – el pensa – “acel no es tro mal; ma me no vole es fusilida. No; me no va es fusilida; acel no es justa.”

As Peyton Farquhar fell straight downward through the bridge he lost consciousness and was as one already dead. From this state he was awakened – ages later, it seemed to him – by the pain of a sharp pressure upon his throat, followed by a sense of suffocation. Keen, poignant agonies seemed to shoot from his neck downward through every fiber of his body and limbs. These pains appeared to flash along well-defined lines of ramification and to beat with an inconceivably rapid periodicity. They seemed like streams of pulsating fire heating him to an intolerable temperature. As to his head, he was conscious of nothing but a feeling of fulness – of congestion. These sensations were unaccompanied by thought. The intellectual part of his nature was already effaced; he had power only to feel, and feeling was torment. He was conscious of motion. Encompassed in a luminous cloud, of which he was now merely the fiery heart, without material substance, he swung through unthinkable arcs of oscillation, like a vast pendulum. Then all at once, with terrible suddenness, the light about him shot upward with the noise of a loud splash; a frightful roaring was in his ears, and all was cold and dark. The power of thought was restored; he knew that the rope had broken and he had fallen into the stream. There was no additional strangulation; the noose about his neck was already suffocating him and kept the water from his lungs. To die of hanging at the bottom of a river! – the idea seemed to him ludicrous. He opened his eyes in the darkness and saw above him a gleam of light, but how distant, how inaccessible! He was still sinking, for the light became fainter and fainter until it was a mere glimmer. Then it began to grow and brighten, and he knew that he was rising toward the surface – knew it with reluctance, for he was now very comfortable. “To be hanged and drowned,” he thought? “that is not so bad; but I do not wish to be shot. No; I will not be shot; that is not fair.”

El no es consensa de un labora, ma un dole agu en sua polso informa el ce el es en atenta libri sua manos. El dona sua atende a la luta, como un pigra ta oserva cisa la fada de un joglor, sin alga interesa sur la resulta. Tan atenta amirable! – tan fortia merveliosa, tan fortia supraumana! A, acel es un labora lodable! Brava! La corda cade a via; sua brasos separa e flota a supra, la manos oscur videda a cada lado en la lus cresente. El oserva los con un interesa nova en cuando la un e alora la otra saisi la laso sirca sua col. Los desapone lo arancante e puxa lo ferose a lado, con ce la ondas de lo sembla aceles de un serpe de acua. “Repone lo, repone lo!” El pensa ce el cria esta parolas a sua manos, car la desfa de la laso ia es segueda par la dole la plu sever cual el ia esperia a cualce ves. Sua col dole asustante; sua serebro arde; sua cor, cual ia bateta cuieta, fa un salta enorme, en atenta forsa se tra sua boca. Sua corpo intera es tormentada e torturada con un angusa nontolerable. Ma sua manos desobedinte dona no atende a la comanda. Los bate enerjiosa la acua con brasis rapida a basa, cual forsa el a la surfas. El sensa ce sua testa emerji; sua oios es siecida par la lus de sol; sua peto crese convulsante, e con un angusa suprema e culminante sua pulmones enspira un flue grande de aira, cual el ejeta pronto en un xilia!

He was not conscious of an effort, but a sharp pain in his wrist apprised him that he was trying to free his hands. He gave the struggle his attention, as an idler might observe the feat of a juggler, without interest in the outcome. What splendid effort! – what magnificent, what superhuman strength! Ah, that was a fine endeavor! Bravo! The cord fell away; his arms parted and floated upward, the hands dimly seen on each side in the growing light. He watched them with a new interest as first one and then the other pounced upon the noose at his neck. They tore it away and thrust it fiercely aside, its undulations resembling those of a water snake. “Put it back, put it back!” He thought he shouted these words to his hands, for the undoing of the noose had been succeeded by the direst pang that he had yet experienced. His neck ached horribly; his brain was on fire; his heart, which had been fluttering faintly, gave a great leap, trying to force itself out at his mouth. His whole body was racked and wrenched with an insupportable anguish! But his disobedient hands gave no heed to the command. They beat the water vigorously with quick, downward strokes, forcing him to the surface. He felt his head emerge; his eyes were blinded by the sunlight; his chest expanded convulsively, and with a supreme and crowning agony his lungs engulfed a great draught of air, which instantly he expelled in a shriek!

Aora el posesa tota sua sensas fisical. Los es an ultranatural agu e vijilante. Alga en la disturba grave de sua sistema organica tan ia alti e ia refina los ce los rejistra cosas nunca persepida a ante. El sensa la ondetas sur sua fas e oia sua sonas separada en cuando los colpa el. El regarda la foresta sur la riva de la rio, vide la arbores individua, la folias e la venas de cada folia – vide an la insetos sur los: la locustas, la moscas con corpos briliante, la aranias gris cual estende sua redes de basteta a basteta. El nota la colores prismal en tota la gotas de rosio sur un milion folias de erba. La zumbi de la moscetas cual dansa supra la vortisetas en la rio, la bate de la alas de la libelulas, la puxas de la gamas de la aranias de acua, como remos cual ia leva sua barco – tota de estas crea musica oiable. Un pex lisca su sua oios e el oia la freta de sua corpo en divide la acua.

He was now in full possession of his physical senses. They were, indeed, preternaturally keen and alert. Something in the awful disturbance of his organic system had so exalted and refined them that they made record of things never before perceived. He felt the ripples upon his face and heard their separate sounds as they struck. He looked at the forest on the bank of the stream, saw the individual trees, the leaves and the veining of each leaf – saw the very insects upon them: the locusts, the brilliant-bodied flies, the grey spiders stretching their webs from twig to twig. He noted the prismatic colors in all the dewdrops upon a million blades of grass. The humming of the gnats that danced above the eddies of the stream, the beating of the dragon flies’ wings, the strokes of the water-spiders’ legs, like oars which had lifted their boat – all these made audible music. A fish slid along beneath his eyes and he heard the rush of its body parting the water.

El ia veni a la surfas en fasa con la flue; en un momento la mundo vidable pare turna lenta, con el mesma como la punto pivotal, e el vide la ponte, la fortres, la militares sur la ponte, la capitan, la sarjento, la du soldatos comun, sua esecutores. Los es siluetada contra la sielo azul. Los cria e jesti forte en indica a el. La capitan ia tira sua pistol, ma no xuta; la otras es nonarmada. Sua moves es fea e asustante, sua formas es jigante.

He had come to the surface facing down the stream; in a moment the visible world seemed to wheel slowly round, himself the pivotal point, and he saw the bridge, the fort, the soldiers upon the bridge, the captain, the sergeant, the two privates, his executioners. They were in silhouette against the blue sky. They shouted and gesticulated, pointing at him. The captain had drawn his pistol, but did not fire; the others were unarmed. Their movements were grotesque and horrible, their forms gigantic.

Subita el oia un crac agu, e alga cosa colpa sever la acua en un poca sentimetres de sua testa, fante ce la acua salpica a sua fas. El oia un crac du, e vide un de la vijilores con sua fusil a sua spala, con ce un nube lejera de fuma blu asende de la cano. La om en la acua vide la oio de la om sur la ponte ci regarda sua propre oio tra la vidador de la fusil. El oserva ce lo es un oio gris e recorda ce el ia leje ce oios gris es la plu agu, e ce tota fusilores famosa ave los. An tal, esta no ia colpa.

Suddenly he heard a sharp report and something struck the water smartly within a few inches of his head, spattering his face with spray. He heard a second report, and saw one of the sentinels with his rifle at his shoulder, a light cloud of blue smoke rising from the muzzle. The man in the water saw the eye of the man on the bridge gazing into his own through the sights of the rifle. He observed that it was a grey eye and remembered having read that grey eyes were keenest, and that all famous marksmen had them. Nevertheless, this one had missed.

Un contrajira ia prende Farquhar e ia turna el tra un semisirculo; el regarda denova la foresta sur la riva fasante la fortres. La sona de un vose clar e alta en un monotono cantin resona aora a retro de el e traversa la acua con un distingui cual perfora e redui tota otra sonas, an la colpas de la ondetas en sua oreas. An si el no es un soldato, el ia visita la campas tan frecuente ce el sabe la sinifia asustante de acel canta curante, lenta e aspirada; la teninte sur la riva partisipa en la labora de la matina. Tan fria e sin compatia – con tono tan periodal e calma, cual premostra e enforsa la calma en la omes – con intervales tan esata mesurada esta parolas cruel veni:

A counter-swirl had caught Farquhar and turned him half round; he was again looking into the forest on the bank opposite the fort. The sound of a clear, higho voice in a monotonous singsong now rang out behind him and came across the water with a distinctness that pierced and subdued all other sounds, even the beating of the ripples in his ears. Although no soldier, he had frequented camps enough to know the dread significance of that deliberate, drawling, aspirated chant; the lieutenant on shore was taking a part in the morning’s work. How coldly and pitilessly – with what an even, calm intonation, presaging, and enforcing tranquillity in the men – with what accurately measured intervals fell those cruel words:

“Atende, compania! … armas a spala! … prepara! … punta! … xuta!”

“Attention, company! . . Shoulder arms! . . . Ready! . . . Aim! . . . Fire!”

Farquhar tufa – tufa tan profonda como el pote. La acua ruji en sua oreas como la vose de Niagara, an tal el oia la tona desagida de la bombarda, e en asende denova a la surfas, encontra picas briliante de metal, notable platida, en afonda osilante. Alga de los toca el sur la fas e manos, alora cade a via, continuante sua desende. Un de los fisa se entre sua colar e col; lo es nonconfortosa calda e el estrae lo arancante.

Farquhar dived – dived as deeply as he could. The water roared in his ears like the voice of Niagara, yet he heard the dulled thunder of the volley and, rising again toward the surface, met shining bits of metal, singularly flattened, oscillating slowly downward. Some of them touched him on the face and hands, then fell away, continuing their descent. One lodged between his collar and neck; it was uncomfortably warm and he snatched it out.

En cuando el asende a la surfas, sanglotante per aira, el vide ce el ia es sumerjida tra un tempo longa; el es persepable plu distante con la flue e plu prosima a securia. La soldatos es a punto de fini recarga la fusiles; la bastos de metal flaxi simultan en cuando los es estraeda de la canos, turnada en la aira, e puxada a en sua cavetas. La du vijilores xuta denova, autonom e nonproduosa.

As he rose to the surface, gasping for breath, he saw that he had been a long time under water; he was perceptibly farther down stream nearer to safety. The soldiers had almost finished reloading; the metal ramrods flashed all at once in the sunshine as they were drawn from the barrels, turned in the air, and thrust into their sockets. The two sentinels fired again, independently and ineffectually.

La xasada vide tota de esta ultra sua spala; el es aora en nada enerjiosa con la flue. Sua serebro es tan enerjiosa como sua brasos e gamas; el pensa con la rapidia de lampo.

The hunted man saw all this over his shoulder; he was now swimming vigorously with the current. His brain was as energetic as his arms and legs; he thought with the rapidity of lightning.

“La ofisior” – el razona – “no va fa acel era de disiplinor a un ves du. Lo es tan fasil ce on evita un bombarda como un sola xuta. Probable el dona ja la comanda per xuta a vole. Ta ce Dio aida me, me no pote evita tota de los!”

“The officer,” he reasoned, “will not make that martinet’s error a second time. It is as easy to dodge a volley as a single shot. He has probably already given the command to fire at will. God help me, I cannot dodge them all!”

Un salpica asustante a en du metres de el es segueda par un sona forte e fretante, diminuinte, cual pare revade tra la aira a la fortres, e mori en un esplode cual turba la rio mesma a sua profondas!

An appalling splash within two yards of him was followed by a loud, rushing sound, diminuendo, which seemed to travel back through the air to the fort and died in an explosion which stirred the very river to its deeps!

Un strato asendente de acua curvi supra el, cade a basa sur el, sieci el, strangula el! La canon ia prende un parte en la jua. En cuando el secute sua testa per libri lo de la disturba de la acua colpada, el oia la xutada redirijeda en zumbi tra la aira a fronte, e pos un momento lo frati e crase la ramos en la foresta a ultra.

A rising sheet of water curved over him, fell down upon him, blinded him, strangled him! The cannon had taken a hand in the game. As he shook his head free from the commotion of the smitten water he heard the deflected shot humming through the air ahead, and in an instant it was cracking and smashing the branches in the forest beyond.

“Los no va fa acel denova;” – el pensa – “a la ves prosima los va usa un carga de baletas. Me debe fisa me oia sur la canon; la fuma va informa me – la sona ariva tro tarda; lo avansa min rapida ca la misil. Acel es un bon canon.”

“They will not do that again,” he thought; “the next time they will use a charge of grape. I must keep my eye upon the gun; the smoke will apprise me – the report arrives too late; it lags behind the missile. That is a good gun.”

Subita el sensa ce el es turnada en sirculos – jirante como un jireta. La acua, la rivas, la forestas, la ponte e fortres e omes aora distante – tota es miscada e neblida. Ojetos es sola representada par sua colores; raios sirculo e orizonal de color – acel es tota cual el vide. El ia es trapida en un vortis cual move el con un rapidia de avansa e de jira cual fa el a mareada e malada. Pos alga momentos el es lansada sur la calculos a la pede de la riva sinistra de la rio – la riva sude – e a retro de un protende de tera cual asconde el de sua enemis. La para subita de sua move, la raspa de un de sua manos sur la calculos, restora el, e el larma con deleta. El escava la arena par sua ditos, lansa lo en plenimanos sur el mesma e bondise lo oiable. Lo aspeta como diamantes, rubis, esmeraldas; el pote recorda no cosa bela cual lo no sembla. La arbores sur la riva es plantas jardinal jigante; el nota un ordina definida en sua posa, enspira la bon odor de sua flores. Un lus strana e rosin brilia tra la spasios entre sua troncos, e la venta jua en sua ramos la musica de cordetas soflada. El ave no desira per perfeti sua evade – el es contente con resta en acel loca encantante asta sua recatura.

Suddenly he felt himself whirled round and round – spinning like a top. The water, the banks, the forests, the now distant bridge, fort and men – all were commingled and blurred. Objects were represented by their colors only; circular horizontal streaks of color – that was all he saw. He had been caught in a vortex and was being whirled on with a velocity of advance and gyration that made him giddy and sick. In a few moments he was flung upon the gravel at the foot of the left bank of the stream – the southern bank – and behind a projecting point which concealed him from his enemies. The sudden arrest of his motion, the abrasion of one of his hands on the gravel, restored him, and he wept with delight. He dug his fingers into the sand, threw it over himself in handfuls and audibly blessed it. It looked like diamonds, rubies, emeralds; he could think of nothing beautiful which it did not resemble. The trees upon the bank were giant garden plants; he noted a definite order in their arrangement, inhaled the fragrance of their blooms. A strange, roseate light shone through the spaces among their trunks and the wind made in their branches the music of olian harps. He had no wish to perfect his escape – was content to remain in that enchanting spot until retaken.

Un sisa e clica de baletas de canon entre la ramos alta supra sua testa velia el de sua sonia. La canonor confondeda ia xuta un adio acaso per el. El salta a sua pedes, asende corente la riva inclinada, e entra fretante la foresta.

A whiz and rattle of grapeshot among the branches high above his head roused him from his dream. The baffled cannoneer had fired him a random farewell. He sprang to his feet, rushed up the sloping bank, and plunged into the forest.

Tra tota de acel dia el viaja, puntante sua curso par la sol sirculinte. La foresta pare sin fini; a no loca el descovre un abri en lo, an no un rua de lenior. El no ia sabe ce el abita en un area tan savaje. On ave un strania en la revela.

All that day he traveled, laying his course by the rounding sun. The forest seemed interminable; nowhere did he discover a break in it, not even a woodman’s road. He had not known that he lived in so wild a region. There was something uncanny in the revelation.

A noti el es ja fatigada, dolosa de pede, faminte. La pensa de sua sposa e enfantes speroni el a ante. Final el trova un rua cual gida el en la dirije cual el sabe como coreta. Lo es tan larga e reta como un strada urban, ma lo pare nonusada. No campos bordi lo, no casas a cualce loca. On no ave an la abaia de un can per indica alga abita umana. La corpos negra de la arbores formi un mur reta a ambos lados, fininte a la orizon a un punto, como un scema en un leson sur perspetiva. A supra, en cuando el regarda la sielo tra esta fesur en la foresta, grande stelas orosa brilia, aspetante como nonconoseda e grupida en constelas strana. El es serta ce los es posada en alga ordina cual ave un sinifia secreta e malvolente. La foresta a cada lado es plen de ruidos estracomun, entre cuales – a ves un, du, e denova – el oia clar xuxas en un lingua nonconoseda.

By nightfall he was fatigued, footsore, famishing. The thought of his wife and children urged him on. At last he found a road which led him in what he knew to be the right direction. It was as wide and straight as a city street, yet it seemed untraveled. No fields bordered it, no dwelling anywhere. Not so much as the barking of a dog suggested human habitation. The black bodies of the trees formed a straight wall on both sides, terminating on the horizon in a point, like a diagram in a lesson in perspective. Overhead, as he looked up through this rift in the wood, shone great golden stars looking unfamiliar and grouped in strange constellations. He was sure they were arranged in some order which had a secret and malign significance. The wood on either side was full of singular noises, among which – once, twice, and again – he distinctly heard whispers in an unknown tongue.

Sua col dole, e levante sua mano a lo, el trova ce lo es asustante inflada. El sabe ce lo ave un sirco de negra do la corda ia contusa lo. Sua oios pare conjestada; el pote no plu clui los. Sua lingua es inflada par sidia; el lejeri la febre de lo par puxa lo a ante de entre sua dentes a en la aira fria. Tan mol la erba ia tapeti la bolevar nonviajada – el pote no plu sensa la rua su sua pedes!

His neck was in pain and lifting his hand to it found it horribly swollen. He knew that it had a circle of black where the rope had bruised it. His eyes felt congested; he could no longer close them. His tongue was swollen with thirst; he relieved its fever by thrusting it forward from between his teeth into the cold air. How softly the turf had carpeted the untraveled avenue – he could no longer feel the roadway beneath his feet!

Nondutable, an con sua sufri, el ia adormi en cuando el pasea, car aora el vide un otra sena – cisa el recovre mera de un delirio. El sta aora a la porton de sua propre casa. Tota es como el ia lasa lo, e tota es briliante e bela en la sol de matina. Lo debe es ce el ia viaja tra la note intera. En cuando el abri puiante la porton e vade longo la paseria blanca e larga, el vide un ondeta de vestes fema; sua sposa, aspetante fresca e calma e dulse, desende de la veranda per encontra el. A la basa de la grados la fem sta espetante, con un surie de joia nondescrivable, un posa de grasia e dinia sin egal. A, el es tan bela! El freta a sua sposa con armas estendeda. A cuando el es a punto de abrasa el, el sensa un colpa aturdinte sur la retro de sua col; un lus siecinte blanca arde tota sirca el con un sona como la esplode de un canon – alora tota es oscuria e silentia!

Doubtless, despite his suffering, he had fallen asleep while walking, for now he sees another scene – perhaps he has merely recovered from a delirium. He stands at the gate of his own home. All is as he left it, and all bright and beautiful in the morning sunshine. He must have traveled the entire night. As he pushes open the gate and passes up the wide white walk, he sees a flutter of female garments; his wife, looking fresh and cool and sweet, steps down from the veranda to meet him. At the bottom of the steps she stands waiting, with a smile of ineffable joy, an attitude of matchless grace and dignity. Ah, how beautiful she is! He springs forward with extended arms. As he is about to clasp her he feels a stunning blow upon the back of the neck; a blinding white light blazes all about him with a sound like the shock of a cannon – then all is darkness and silence!

Peyton Farquhar es mor; sua corpo, con col rompeda, penduli cuieta de lado a lado su la faxones de la ponte de la Rio Bu.

Peyton Farquhar was dead; his body, with a broken neck, swung gently from side to side beneath the timbers of the Owl Creek bridge.

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Lo ia es automatada jenerada de la paje corespondente en la Vici de Elefen a 20 junio 2024 (16:09 UTC).