真摯的友誼（上）

We have lately taken a little journey together， and now we want to take a longer one. Whither? To Sparta， to Mycene， to Delphi? There are a hundred places at whosenames the heart beats with the desire of travel. On horseback we go up the mountainpaths through brake and through brier. A single traveller makes an appearance like awhole caravan. He rides forward with his guide， a packhorse carries trunks， a tent， andprovisions， and a few armed soldiers follow as a guard. No inn with warm beds awaits himat the end of his tiring day's journey: the tent is often his dwelling-place in the great wildregion; the guide cooks him a pilau of rice， fowls， and curry for his supper. A thousandgnats swarm round the tent. It is a miserable night， and tomorrow the way will lead acrossswollen streams; sit fast on your horse that you may not be washed away!

What is your reward for undergoing these hardships? The fullest， richest reward. Nature manifests herself here in all her geatness; every spot is historical， and the eye and the thoughts are alike delighted. The poet may sing it， the painter portray it in richpictures; but the air of reality which sinks deep into the soul of the spectator， and remains there， neither painter nor poet can reproduce.

The lonely herdsman yonder on the hills would， perhaps， by a simple recital of an event in his life， better enlighten you， who wish in a few features to behold the land of theHellenes， than any writer of travel could do.

\"Then，\" says my Muse， \"let him speak.\"

A custom， a good， peculiar custom， shall be the subject of the mountain shepherd's tale. It is called

The Bond of Friendship.

Our rude house was put together of clay; but the door posts were columns of fluted marble found near the spot where the house was erected. The roof reached almost down to the ground. It was now dark brown and ugly， but it had originally consisted of blooming olive and fresh laurel branches brought from beyond the mountain. Around our dwelling was a narrow gorge， whose walls of rock rose steeply upwards， and showed naked and black， and round their summits often hung clouds， like white living figures. Never did I hear a singing bird there， never did the men there dance to the sound of the bagpipe; but the spot was sacred from the old times: even its name reminded of this， for it was called Delphi! The dark solemn mountains were all covered with snow; the highest， which gleamed the longest in the red light of evening， was Parnassus; the brook which flowed from it near our house was once sacred also. Now the ass sullies it with its feet， but the stream rolls on and on， and becomes clear again. How I can remember every spot in the deep holy solitude! In the midst of the hut a fire was kindled， and when the hot ashes lay there red and glowing， the bread was baked in them. When the snow was piled so high around our hut as almost to hide it， my mother appeared most cheerful; then she would hold my head between her hands， kiss my forehead， and sing the songs she never sang at other times， for the Turks our masters would not allow it. She sang:

On the summit of Olympus， in the forest of dwarf firs， lay an old stag. His eyes were heavy with tears; he wept red， green， and even pale blue tears; and there came a roebuck by， and said，' What ails thee， that thou weepest those blue， green， and red tears?' And the stag answered， ' The Turk has come to our village: he has wild dogs for the chase， a goodly pack. ' ' I will drive them away across the island， ' Cried the young roebuck， ' I will drive them away across the islands into the deep sea!' But before evening sank down the roebuck was slain， and before night the stag was hunted and dead.

And when my mother sang thus， her eyes became moist， and on the long eyelashes hung a tear; but she hid it， and baked our black bread in the ashes. Then I would clench my fist and cry.

\"We will kill the Turks!\"

But she repeated from the song the words， \"I will drive them across the islands into the deep sea. But before evening sank down the roebuck was slain， and before the night came the stag was hunted and dead.\"

For several days and nights we had been lonely in our hut， when my father came home. I knew he would bring me shells from the Gulf of Lepanto， or perhaps even a bright gleaming knife. This time he brought us a child， a little half-naked girl， that he carried under his sheep-skin cloak. It was wrapped in a fur， and all that the little creature possessed when this was taken off， and she lay in my mother's lap， were three silver coins， fastened in her dark hair. My father told us that the Turks had killed the child's parents; and he told so much about them that I dreamed of the Turks all night. He himself had been wounded， and my mother bound up his arm. The wound was deep， and the thick sheep-skin was stiff with frozen blood. The little maiden was to be my sister. How radiantly beautiful she looked! Even my mother's eyes were not more gentle than hers. Anastasia， as she was called， was to be my sister， because her father had been united to mine by the old custom which we still keep. They had sworn brotherhood in their youth， and chosen the most beautiful and virtuous girl in the neighbourhood to consecrate their bond of friendship. I often heard of the strange good custom.

So now the little girl was my sister. She sat in my lap， and I brought her flowers and the feathers of the mountain birds. We drank together of the waters of Parnassus， and slept， cheek to cheek， under the laurel roof of the hut， while my mother sang winter after winter about the red， green， and pale blue tears. But as yet I did not understand that it was my own countrymen whose many sorrows were mirrored in those tears.

One day there came three Frankish men. Their dress was different from ours. They had tents and beds with them on their horses， and more than twenty Turks， all armed with swords and muskets， accompanied them; for they were friends of the pasha， and had letters from him commanding an escort for them. They only came to see our mountains， to ascend Parnassus amid the snow and the clouds， and to look at the strange black steep rocks near our hut. They could not find room in it， nor could they endure the smoke that rolled along the ceiling and found its way out at the low door; therefore they pitched their tents on the small space outside our dwelling， roasted lambs and birds， and poured out strong sweet wine， of which the Turks were not allowed to partake.

When they departed， I accompanied them for some distance， carrying my little sister Anastasia， wrapped in a goat-skin， on my back. One of the Frankish gentlemen made me stand in front of a rock， and drew me， and her too， as we stood there， so that we looked like one creature. I never thought of it before， but Anastasia and I were really one. She was always sitting in my lap or riding in the goat-skin at my back， and when I dreamed， she appeared in my dreams.

Two nights afterwards， other men， armed with knives and muskets， came into our tent. They were Albanians， brave men， my mother told me. They only stayed a short time. My sister Anastasia sat on the knee of one of them， and when they were gone she had not three， but only two silver coins in her hair. They wrapped tobacco in strips of paper and smoked it. I remember they were undecided as to the road they were to take.

But they had to make a choice. They went， and my father went with them. Soon afterwards we heard the sound of loud firing， soldiers rushed into our tent， and took my mother， and myself， and my sister Anastasia prisoners. They declared that the robbers had been entertained by us， and that my father had acted as the robbers' guide， and therefore we must go with them. Presently I saw the bodies of the robbers brought in; I saw my father's body too. I cried and cried till I fell asleep. When I awoke， we were in prison， but the room was not worse than ours in our own house. They gave me onions to eat， and musty wine poured from a tarry cask， but we had no better fare at home.

How long we were kept prisoners I do not know; but many days and nights went by. When we were set free it was the time of the holy Easter feast. I carried Anastasia on my back， for my mother was ill， and could only move slowly， and it was a long way till we came down to the sea， to the Gulf of Lepanto. We went into a church that gleamed with pictures painted on a golden ground. They were pictures of angels， and very beautiful; but it seemed to me that our little Anastasia was just as beautiful. In the middle of the floor stood a coffin filled with roses. \"The Lord Christ is pictured there in the form of a beautiful rose，\" said my mother; and the priest announced， \"Christ is risen!\" All the people kissed each other; each one had a burning taper in his hand， and I received one myself， and so did little Anastasia. The bagpipes sounded， men danced hand in hand from the church， and outside the women were roasting the Easter lamb. We were invited to partake， and I sat by the fire; a boy， older than myself， put his arms around my neck， kissed me， and said， \"Christ is risen!\" and thus it was that for the first time I met Aphtanides.

My mother could make fishermen's nets， for which there was a good demand here in the bay， and we lived a long time by the side of the sea， the beautiful sea， that tasted like tears， and in its colours reminded me of the song of the stag that wept--for sometimes its waters were red， and sometimes green or blue.

我們最近一起作了一次小小的旅行，現在正準備再來一次遠足。去哪里呢？去斯巴達、邁錫尼，還是德爾菲？有上百個地方都能激起旅行的欲望，讓人怦然心動。我們騎著馬，穿過矮樹林和荊棘叢，沿山道而上。一個旅行者上了路，擺出一個商隊的氣派。他和自己的向導在前面騎行。一匹馬馱著行李箱，一個帳篷，還有各種生活用品。幾個全付武裝的士兵跟在后面護衛。在他一天疲憊的旅行的終點，沒有備著溫暖床鋪的小旅館恭候他。那個帳篷常常是他在空曠野外的寄身之處。向導給他做了一碗加肉飯，一些雞肉，還有一些咖哩粉，這就是他的晚餐。帳篷外面圍著各種小昆蟲。這是一個可怕的夜晚，明天他們將穿越漲水的河流?？傻迷隈R背上坐穩了，不然就會被洪水沖走！

經歷這些艱辛，能得到怎樣的回報？當然是最充實、最豐厚的回報。在這里，大自然將她偉大的秘密盡情地向你展示。每一處都是值得回味的，目光和思想都為之一亮。詩人將用詩歌來贊頌它；畫家將用絢麗的畫作來描繪它，但真情實景將沉入觀賞者的靈魂深處，這是任何一個畫家和詩人力所不及的。

也許，對于想通過廖廖數語，就讓希臘展現于眼前的您來說，那邊山坡上孤獨的牧人，僅僅敘述一段自己的生活經歷，就會比任何一位旅行作家的文字更能打動你。

“那么，”詩神繆斯說，“讓他開口吧?！币粋€風俗，一個美好、奇特的風俗，是這個山間牧人講述的故事的主題。故事名字叫

真摯的友誼

我們簡易的房屋是用泥土壘成的，門柱是帶有刻槽的大理石，它們是在房屋的附近找到的。屋頂斜拉下來，都快碰到地面了?，F在，屋頂已經成了棕黑色，怪難看的，但當初它是用開花的橄欖枝和新鮮的桂樹枝做成的，這些東西從山上采集而來。在我們的住地周圍，是窄窄的峽谷，石壁高聳，光光的，黑黑的。在石壁頂端，經常掛著云彩，像白色的生靈一樣。在那里，我從沒有聽過一只鳥兒的歌唱，也從未見過有人在風笛聲中起舞，但這兒自古就是神圣的，它的名字也昭示了這一點，因為它叫德爾菲！黑黝黝的、肅穆的山上，峰頂覆蓋著皚皚白雪，而最高的一座，就是在傍晚的紅霞中閃耀得最久的，就是帕那薩斯山。山上涌出的溪水，流經我們的房屋附近，這水從前也是神圣的。現在，一頭毛驢正用蹄子把水攪渾，但溪水流呀流，很快又變得清澈了。神圣而深沉的寂靜中的任何一處，我記得都那么清晰！在小屋的中間，燃著一堆火。灼熱的火灰紅紅地閃耀的時候，面包就可以放在里面烤了。當雪在我們的小屋四周高高地堆起，差點兒掩住房子的時候，我媽媽就高興得不得了，她會用雙手托著我的腦袋，親吻我的額頭，唱著她在其他場合下從未唱過的歌謠——因為我們的統治者，土耳其人，不允許人們唱。她唱道：

“在奧林匹斯山頂，在矮小的樅樹叢中，躺著一頭年老的赤鹿。它的眼里滿含淚水，流出了紅色、綠色，甚至淡藍色的淚。這時，一頭黃斑鹿從此路過，說，‘你為什么這么難過，竟然流出藍淚、綠淚和紅淚？’赤鹿答道，‘土耳其人進了村子。他帶了一群打獵用的野狗——大群獵狗?！乙阉鼈冓s出這個島！’年輕的黃斑鹿叫道，‘我要把它們趕出這個島，趕進深海里去?！谝鼓唤蹬R前，黃斑鹿就被殺死了。天剛黑的時候，赤鹿也被獵殺?！?/p>

當媽媽唱這支歌的時候，她的雙眼濕潤了，長長的睫毛上掛著淚花，但她躲著不讓人看見，在火灰里給我們烤面包。這時，我就握緊拳頭，喊道：

“我們要殺掉土耳其人！”

她又重唱了一遍歌兒：

“我要把它們趕出這個島，趕進深海里去。但在夜幕降臨前，黃斑鹿就被殺死了。天剛黑的時候，赤鹿也被獵殺。”

當爸爸回到家的時候，我們已經在小屋里孤獨地過了好幾個白天和黑夜了。我知道，他會從勒龐多灣給我帶回貝殼，或者帶回一把閃閃發光的刀子。這次他給我們帶回一個小孩，一個衣不蔽體的小姑娘。爸爸把她放在自己的羊皮衣服里抱著。她被包在一張羊皮里。這張皮脫去時，她躺在了我媽媽的膝蓋上。她有的東西，只是三枚系在頭發上的銀幣。爸爸對我們說，土耳其人殺死了孩子的父母。他講了那么多關于土耳其人的事，我整夜都夢著他們。爸爸也受了傷，媽媽把他的胳膊包扎起來。傷口很深，那張厚厚的羊皮外衣，已經被凝固了的血弄硬了。小女孩將做我的妹妹。她看上去多么美，多么光彩照人！連我媽媽的眼睛也不比她的眼睛更溫柔。安娜斯達西亞——這是她的名字，她將成為我的妹妹，因為根據我們至今仍保持的古老的風俗，她的爸爸已經和我的爸爸結義。他倆年輕的時候已結為兄弟，還選了一位最美麗、最賢慧的鄰家女子來見證他們永恒的友誼。我常常聽說這種奇異、美好的風俗。

所以，現在這個小女孩就成了我的妹妹。她坐在我的膝蓋上，我還給她采來鮮花，帶來山上鳥兒的羽毛。我們一起喝帕那薩斯山流出的清水，還臉貼著臉，在小屋的桂枝屋頂上一起入睡。而媽媽一個冬天接一個冬天地唱著那支紅眼淚、綠眼淚、淺藍色眼淚的歌兒。但我當時不懂，在這些淚珠里，映射出的是我自己的無數同胞的哀愁。

一天，來了三個佛蘭克人。他們的服裝和我們的不一樣，他們的馬背上放了帳篷和床。有超過二十個土耳其人跟在后面，都帶著劍和毛瑟槍。因為這三個人是土耳其總督的朋友，他們帶著他的信件，要求派人護送。他們是來欣賞我們的山脈的，爬那云雪覆蓋的帕拉薩斯山，游覽我們小屋附近奇異陡峭的黑山崖。他們在我們的小屋里找不到空地，同時也受不了炊煙——炊煙在屋頂下盤旋，然后又從低矮的房門飄出去。他們只好把帳篷搭在我們家附近的一小塊空地上，烤羊和鳥吃，還倒出香味濃烈的好酒——但土耳其人不敢品嘗。

當他們離開的時候，我跟著他們走了一段，把小妹妹安娜斯達西亞包在羊皮里，背在背上。一位佛蘭克先生讓我站在一塊石頭前面，畫我和我妹妹。我們站在那里，看起來像是一個人。我從來沒有想到會是這樣，但安娜斯達西亞實際上和我也就是一個人。她總是坐在我的膝上，或者裹著羊皮躺在我的背上。我做夢的時候，她也出現在我的夢里。

兩個夜晚之后，其他一些人，也都佩戴著刀子和毛瑟槍，來到我們的小屋。媽媽告訴我，他們是阿爾巴尼亞勇士。他們只作了短暫的停留。有一次，我的妹妹安娜斯達西亞坐在一個人的膝上。但當他們離開的時候，她頭發上的銀幣不再是三枚，而變成了兩枚了。他們把煙葉卷在紙卷里，然后就吸煙。我記得他們曾猶豫不決，不知道該走哪條道。

但他們必須作出選擇。他們走了，爸爸也跟他們一起去。不久我們聽到震耳的槍聲，一群士兵沖進我們的小屋，俘虜了媽媽、我和妹妹安娜斯達西亞。他們宣布，我們窩藏了土匪，還說我爸爸給土匪當向導，因此我們必須跟他們走。我看到了“土匪”們的尸體，也看到了爸爸的尸體。我哭呀，哭呀，直到昏睡過去。我醒來時，發現我們被關在監獄里，但牢房和我們家的小破屋也差不多。他們給我們洋蔥吃，還從一個漆皮袋里倒出發霉的酒給我們喝。不過我們在家吃的東西，也不比這里的好。

我不知道我們在這里被關了多久，總之過了許許多多的白天和黑夜。當我們被放出來的時候，正是復活節。我背著安娜斯達西亞，因為媽媽病了，只能蹣跚而行。我們走了很遠，才來到海邊，就是勒龐多灣。我們走進一座教堂，金色背景上的神像熠熠生輝。這些繪畫畫的是一群天使，十分漂亮。但在我看來，我們的小安娜斯達西亞也和他們一樣美麗。在地板上，有一具小棺材，里面裝滿了玫瑰?！爸骰揭悦倒寤ǖ男蜗蟪霈F在那兒，”媽媽說。然后神父宣布，“基督升天了！”所有的人都互相親吻，每個人都手持一枝燃燒的蠟燭，我也得到了一枝，小安娜斯達西亞也不例外。風笛吹響了，男人們手拉手，跳著舞出了教堂，女人們在外面烤復活節食用的小羊。我們也受到了邀請，我坐在了火堆邊。一個男孩，比我大一些，用胳膊摟住我的脖子，吻了我，說：“基督升天了！”這是我第一次遇見阿夫坦尼蒂斯。

我媽媽會織漁網，在這個海灣地帶，漁網可是需求量很大的東西。我們在海邊生活了很久。這美麗的大海，海水的味道就像眼淚一樣，海水的顏色又讓我想起了那支歌里唱到的赤鹿的眼淚——因為海水有時是紅的，有時是綠的，有時又是藍的。（未完待續）