wind sand and stars st.antoine de saint-exupery-第3部分

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　　The　squall　has　ceased　to　be　a　cause　of　my　plaint。　The　magic　of　the　craft　has　opened　for　me　a　world　in　which　I　shall　confront；　within　two　hours；　the　black　dragons　and　the　crowned　crests　of　a　a　of　blue　lightnings；　and　when　night　has　fallen　I；　delivered；　shall　read　my　course　in　the　stars。　
　　Thus　I　went　through　my　professional　baptism　and　I　began　to　fly　the　mails。　For　the　most　part　the　flights　were　without　incident。　Like　sea…divers；　we　sank　peacefully　into　the　depths　of　our　element。　
　　Flying；　in　general；　seemed　to　us　easy。　When　the　skies　are　filled　with　black　vapors；　when　fog　and　sand　and　sea　are　confounded　in　a　brew　in　which　they　bee　indistinguishable；　when　gleaming　flashes　wheel　treacherously　in　these　skyey　swamps；　the　pilot　purges　himself　of　the　phantoms　at　a　single　stroke。　He　lights　his　lamps。　He　brings　sanity　into　his　house　as　into　a　lonely　cottage　on　a　fearsome　heath。　And　the　crew　travel　a　sort　of　submarine　route　in　a　lighted　chamber。　
　　Pilot；　mechanic；　and　radio　operator　are　shut　up　in　what　might　be　a　laboratory。　They　are　obedient　to　the　play　of　dial…hands；　not　to　the　unrolling　of　the　landscape。　Out　of　doors　the　mountains　are　immersed　in　tenebrous　darkness；　but　they　are　no　longer　mountains；　they　are　invisible　powers　whose　approach　must　be　puted。　
　　The　operator　sits　in　the　light　of　his　lamp；　dutifully　setting　down　figures；　the　mechanic　ticks　off　points　on　his　chart；　the　pilot　swerves　in　response　to　the　drift　of　the　mountains　as　quickly　as　he　sees　that　the　summits　he　intends　to　pass　on　the　left　have　deployed　straight　ahead　of　him　in　a　silence　and　secrecy　as　of　military　preparations。　And　below　on　the　ground　the　watchful　radio　men　in　their　shacks　take　down　submissively　in　their　notebooks　the　dictation　of　their　rade　in　the　air：　〃12：40　a。m。　En　route　230。　All　well。〃　
　　So　the　crew　fly　on　with　no　thought　that　they　are　in　motion。　Like　night　over　the　sea；　they　are　very　far　from　the　earth；　from　towns；　from　trees。　The　motors　fill　the　lighted　chamber　with　a　quiver　that　changes　its　substance。　The　clock　ticks　on。　The　dials；　the　radio　lamps；　the　various　hands　and　needles　go　through　their　invisible　alchemy。　From　second　to　second　these　mysterious　stirrings；　a　few　muffled　words；　a　concentrated　tenseness；　contribute　to　the　end　result。　And　when　the　hour　is　at　hand　the　pilot　may　glue　his　forehead　to　the　window　with　perfect　assurance。　Out　of　oblivion　the　gold　has　been　smelted：　there　it　gleams　in　the　lights　of　the　airport。　
　　And　yet　we　have　all　known　flights　when　of　a　sudden；　each　for　himself；　it　has　seemed　to　us　that　we　have　crossed　the　border　of　the　world　of　reality；　when；　only　a　couple　of　hours　from　port；　we　have　felt　ourselves　more　distant　from　it　than　we　should　feel　if　we　were　in　India；　when　there　has　e　a　premonition　of　an　incursion　into　a　forbidden　world　whence　it　was　going　to　be　infinitely　difficult　to　return。　
　　Thus；　when　Mermoz　first　crossed　the　South　Atlantic　in　a　hydroplane；　as　day　was　dying　he　ran　foul　of　the　Black　Hole　region；　off　Africa。　Straight　ahead　of　him　were　the　tails　of　tornadoes　rising　minute　by　minute　gradually　higher；　rising　as　a　wall　is　built；　and　then　the　night　came　down　upon　these　preliminaries　and　swallowed　them　up；　and　when；　an　hour　later；　he　slipped　under　the　clouds；　he　came　out　into　a　fantastic　kingdom。　
　　Great　black　waterspouts　had　reared　themselves　seemingly　in　the　immobility　of　temple　pillars。　Swollen　at　their　tops；　they　were　supporting　the　squat　and　lowering　arch　of　the　tempest；　but　through　the　rifts　in　the　arch　there　fell　slabs　of　light　and　the　full　moon　sent　her　radiant　beams　between　the　pillars　down　upon　the　frozen　tiles　of　the　sea。　Through　these　uninhabited　ruins　Mermoz　made　his　way；　gliding　slantwise　from　one　channel　of　light　to　the　next；　circling　round　those　giant　pillars　in　which　there　must　have　rumbled　the　upsurge　of　the　sea；　flying　for　four　hours　through　these　corridors　of　moonlight　toward　the　exit　from　the　temple。　And　this　spectacle　was　so　overwhelming　that　only　after　he　had　got　through　the　Black　Hole　did　Mermoz　awaken　to　the　fact　I　that　he　had　not　been　afraid。　
　　I　remember；　for　my　part；　another　of　those　hours　in　which　a　pilot　finds　suddenly　that　he　has　slipped　beyond　the　confines　of　this　world。　All　that　night　the　radio　messages　sent　from　the　ports　in　the　Sahara　concerning　our　position　had　been　inaccurate；　and　my　radio　operator；　Neri；　and　I　had　been　drawn　out　of　our　course。　Suddenly；　seeing　the　gleam　of　water　at　the　bottom　of　a　crevasse　of　fog；　I　tacked　sharply　in　the　direction　of　the　coast；　but　it　was　by　then　impossible　for　us　to　say　how　long　we　had　been　flying　towards　the　high　seas。　Nor　were　we　certain　of　making　the　coast；　for　our　fuel　was　probably　low。　And　even　so；　once　we　had　reached　it　we　would　still　have　to　make　port　…　after　the　moon　had　set。　
　　We　had　no　means　of　angular　orientation；　were　already　deafened；　and　were　bit　by　bit　growing　blind。　The　moon　like　a　pallid　ember　began　to　go　out　in　the　banks　of　fog。　Overhead　the　sky　was　filling　with　clouds；　and　we　flew　thenceforth　between　cloud　and　fog　in　a　world　voided　of　all　substance　and　all　light。　The　ports　that　signaled　us　'　had　given　up　trying　to　tell　us　where　we　were。　〃No　bearings；　no　bearings；〃　was　all　their　message；　for　our　voice　reached　them　from　every…where　and　nowhere。　With　sinking　hearts　Neri　and　I　leaned　out；　he　on　his　side　and　I　on　mine；　to　see　if　anything；　anything　at　all；　was　distinguishable　in　this　void。　Already　our　tired　eyes　were　seeing　things　…　errant　signs；　delusive　flashes；　phantoms。　
　　And　suddenly；　when　already　we　were　in　despair；　low　on　the　horizon　a　brilliant　point　was　un…veiled　on　our　port　bow。　A　wave　of　joy　went　through　me。　Neri　leaned　forward；　and　I　could　hear　him　singing。　It　could　not　but　be　the　beacon　of　an　airport；　for　after　dark　the　whole　Sahara　goes　black　and　forms…a　great　dead　expanse。　That　light　twinkled　for　a　space…and　then　went　out！　We　had　been　steering　for　a　star　which　was　visible　for　a　few　minutes　only；　just　before　setting　on　the　horizon　between　the　layer　of　fog　and　the　clouds。　
　　Then　other　stars　took　up　the　game；　and　with　a　sort　of　dogged　hope　we　set　our　course　for　each　of　them　in　turn。　Each　time　that　a　light　lingered　a　while；　we　performed　the　same　crucial　experiment。　Neri　would　send　his　message　to　the　airport　at　Cisneros：　〃Beacon　in　view。　Put　out　your　light　and　flash　three　times。〃　And　Cisneros　would　put　out　its　beacon　and　flash　three　times　while　the　hard　light　at　which　we　gazed　would　not；　incorruptible　star；　so　much　as　wink。　And　despite　our　dwindling　fuel　we　continued　to　nibble　at　the　golden　bait　which　each　time　seemed　more　surely　the　true　light　of　a　beacon；　was　each　time　a　promise　of　a　landing　and　of　life…and　we　had　each　time　to　change　our　star。　
　　And　with　that　we　knew　ourselves　to　be　lost　in　interplanetary　space　among　a　thousand　inaccessible　planets；　we　who　sought　only　the　one　veritable　planet；　our　own；　that　planet　on　which　alone　we　should　find　our　familiar　countryside；　the　houses　of　our　friends；　our　treasures。　
　　On　which　alone　we　should　find　。　。　。　Let　me　draw　the　picture　that　took　shape　before　my　eyes。　It　will　seem　to　you　childish；　but　even　in　the　midst　of　danger　a　man　retains　his　human　concerns。　I　was　thirsty　and　I　was　hungry。　If　we　did　find　Cisneros　we　should　refuel　and　carry　on　to　Casablanca；　and　there　we　should　e　down　in　the　cool　of　daybreak；　free　to　idle　the　hours　away。　Neri　and　I　would　go　into　town。　We　would　go　to　a　little　pub　already　open　despite　the　early　hour。　Safe　and　sound；　Neri　and　I　would　sit　down　at　table　and　laugh　at　the　night　of　danger　as　we　ate　our　warm　rolls　and　drank　our　bowls　of　coffee　and　hot　milk。　We　would　receive　this　matutinal　gift　at　the　hands　of　life。　Even　as　an　old　peasant　woman　recognizes　her　God　in　a　painted　image；　in　a　childish　medal；　in　a　chaplet；　so　life　would　speak　to　us　in　its　humblest　language　in　order　that　we　understand。　The　joy　of　living；　I　say；　was　summed　up　for　me　in　the　remembered　sensation　of　that　first　burning　and　aromatic　swallow；　that　mixture　of　milk　and　coffee　and　bread　by　which　men　hold　munion　with　tranquil　pastures；　exotic　plantations；　and　golden　harvests；　munion　with　the　earth。　Amidst　all　these　stars　there　was　but　one　that　could　make　itself　significant　for　us　by　posing　this　aromatic　bowl　that　was　its　daily　gift　at　dawn。　And　from　that　earth　of　men；　that　earth　docile　to　the　reaping　of　grain　and　the　harvesting　of　the　grape；　bearing　its　rivers　asleep　in　their　fields；　its　villages　clinging　to　their　hillsides；　our　ship　was　separated　by　astronomical　distances。　All　the　treasures　of　the　world　were　summed　up　in　a　grain　of　dust　now　blown　far　out　of　our　path　by　the　very　destiny　itself　of　dust　and　of　the　orbs　of　night。　
　　And　Neri　still　prayed　to　the　stars。　
　　Suddenly　he　was　pounding　my　shoulder。　On　the　bit　of　paper　he　held　forth　impatiently　to　me　I　real：　〃All　well。　Magnificent　news。〃　I　waited　with　beating　heart　while　he　scribbled　the　half…dozen　words　that　were　to　save　us。　At　last　he　put　this　grace　of　heaven　into　my　hands。　
　　It　was　dated　from　Casablanca；　which　we　had　left　the　night　before。　Delayed　in　transmission；　it　had　suddenly　found　us　more　than　a　thousand　miles　away；　suspended　between　cloud　and　fog；　lost　at　sea。　It　was　sent　by　the　government　representative　at　the　airport。　And　it　said：　〃Monsieur　de　Saint　Exupery；　I　am　o