da.therestaurantattheendoftheuniverse-第31部分

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essly。
　　Their　journey　northwards　brought　them　into　steep　mountainous　terrain　of　breathtaking　sweep　and　beauty。　The　vast；　jagged；　snow　covered　peaks　ravished　their　senses。　The　cold　began　to　bite　into　their　bones。
　　They　wrapped　themselves　in　animal　skins　and　furs　which　Ford　Prefect　acquired　by　a　technique　he　once　learned　from　a　couple　of　ex…Pralite　monks　running　a　Mind…Surfing　resort　in　the　Hills　of　Hunian。
　　The　galaxy　is　littered　with　ex…Pralite　monks；　all　on　the　make；　because　the　mental　control　techniques　the　Order　have　evolved　as　a　form　of　devotional　discipline　are；　frankly；　sensational　…　and　extraordinary　numbers　of　monks　leave　the　Order　just　after　they　have　finished　their　devotional　training　and　just　before　they　take　their　final　vows　to　stay　locked　in　small　metal　boxes　for　the　rest　of　their　lives。
　　Ford's　technique　seemed　to　consist　mainly　of　standing　still　for　a　while　and　smiling。
　　After　a　while　an　animal　…　a　deer　perhaps　…　would　appear　from　out　of　the　trees　and　watch　him　cautiously。　Ford　would　continue　to　smile　at　it；　his　eyes　would　soften　and　shine；　and　he　would　seem　to　radiate　a　deep　and　universal　love；　a　love　which　reached　out　to　embrace　all　of　creation。　A　wonderful　quietness　would　descend　on　the　surrounding　countryside；　peaceful　and　serene；　emanating　from　this　transfigured　man。　Slowly　the　deer　would　approach；　step　by　step；　until　it　was　almost　nuzzling　him；　whereupon　Ford　Prefect　would　reach　out　to　it　and　break　its　neck。
　　〃Pheromone　control；〃　he　said　it　was；　〃you　just　have　to　know　how　to　generate　the　right　smell。〃
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　31
　　
　　A　few　days　after　landing　in　this　mountainous　land　they　hit　a　coastline　which　swept　diagonally　before　them　from　the　south…west　to　the　north…east；　a　coastline　of　monumental　grandeur：　deep　majestic　ravines；　soaring　pinnacles　of　ice　…　fjords。
　　For　two　further　days　they　scrambled　and　climbed　over　the　rocks　and　glaciers；　awe…struck　with　beauty。
　　〃Arthur！〃　yelled　Ford　suddenly。
　　It　was　the　afternoon　of　the　second　day。　Arthur　was　sitting　on　a　high　rock　watching　the　thundering　sea　smashing　itself　against　the　craggy　promontories。
　　〃Arthur！〃　yelled　Ford　again。
　　Arthur　looked　to　where　Ford's　voice　had　e　from；　carried　faintly　in　the　wind。
　　Ford　had　gone　to　examine　a　glacier；　and　Arthur　found　him　there　crouching　by　the　solid　wall　of　blue　ice。　He　was　tense　with　excitement　…　his　eyes　darted　up　to　meet　Arthur's。
　　〃Look；〃　he　said；　〃look！〃
　　Arthur　looked。　He　saw　the　solid　wall　of　blue　ice。
　　〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃it's　a　glacier。　I've　already　seen　it。〃
　　〃No；〃　said　Ford；　〃you've　looked　at　it；　you　haven't　seen　it。　Look！〃
　　Ford　was　pointing　deep　into　the　heart　of　the　ice。
　　Arthur　peered　…　he　saw　nothing　but　vague　shadows。
　　〃Move　back　from　it；〃　insisted　Ford；　〃look　again。〃
　　Arthur　moved　back　and　looked　again。
　　〃No；〃　he　said；　and　shrugged。　〃What　am　I　supposed　to　be　looking　for？〃
　　And　suddenly　he　saw　it。
　　〃You　see　it？〃
　　He　saw　it。
　　His　mouth　started　to　speak；　but　his　brain　decided　it　hadn't　got　anything　to　say　yet　and　shut　it　again。　His　brain　then　started　to　contend　with　the　problem　of　what　his　eyes　told　it　they　were　looking　at；　but　in　doing　so　relinquished　control　of　the　mouth　which　promptly　fell　open　again。　Once　more　gathering　up　the　jaw；　his　brain　lost　control　of　his　left　hand　which　then　wandered　around　in　an　aimless　fashion。　For　a　second　or　so　the　brain　tried　to　catch　the　left　hand　without　letting　go　of　the　mouth　and　simultaneously　tried　to　think　about　what　was　buried　in　the　ice；　which　is　probably　why　the　legs　went　and　Arthur　dropped　restfully　to　the　ground。
　　The　thing　that　had　been　causing　all　this　neural　upset　was　a　network　of　shadows　in　the　ice；　about　eighteen　inches　beneath　the　surface。　Looked　at　it　from　the　right　angle　they　resolved　into　the　solid　shapes　of　letters　from　an　alien　alphabet；　each　about　three　feet　high；　and　for　those；　like　Arthur；　who　couldn't　read　Magrathean　there　was　above　the　letters　the　outline　of　a　face　hanging　in　the　ice。
　　It　was　an　old　face；　thin　and　distinguished；　careworn　but　not　unkind。
　　It　was　the　face　of　the　man　who　had　won　an　award　for　designing　the　coastline　they　now　knew　themselves　to　be　standing　on。
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　32
　　
　　A　thin　whine　filled　the　air。　It　whirled　and　howled　through　the　trees　upsetting　the　squirrels。　A　few　birds　flew　off　in　disgust。　The　noise　danced　and　skittered　round　the　clearing。　It　whooped；　it　rasped；　it　generally　offended。
　　The　Captain；　however；　regarded　the　lone　bagpiper　with　an　indulgent　eye。　Little　could　disturb　his　equanimity；　indeed；　once　he　had　got　over　the　loss　of　his　gorgeous　bath　during　that　unpleasantness　in　the　swamp　all　those　months　ago　he　had　begun　to　find　his　new　life　remarkably　congenial。　A　hollow　had　been　scooped　out　of　a　large　rock　which　stood　in　the　middle　of　the　clearing；　and　in　this　he　would　bask　daily　whilst　attendants　sloshed　water　over　him。　Not　particularly　warm　water；　it　must　be　said；　as　they　hadn't　yet　worked　out　a　way　of　heating　it。　Never　mind；　that　would　e；　and　in　the　meantime　search　parties　were　scouring　the　countryside　far　and　wide　for　a　hot　spring；　preferably　one　in　a　nice　leafy　glade；　and　if　it　was　near　a　soap　mine　…　perfection。　To　those　who　said　that　they　had　a　feeling　soap　wasn't　found　in　mines；　the　Captain　had　ventured　to　suggest　that　perhaps　that　was　because　no　one　had　looked　hard　enough；　and　this　possibility　had　been　reluctantly　acknowledged。
　　No；　life　was　very　pleasant；　and　the　greatest　thing　about　it　was　that　when　the　hot　spring　was　found；　plete　with　leafy　glade　en　suite；　and　when　in　the　fullness　of　time　the　cry　came　reverberating　across　the　hills　that　the　soap　mine　had　been　located　and　was　producing　five　hundred　cakes　a　day　it　would　be　more　pleasant　still。　It　was　very　important　to　have　things　to　look　forward　to。
　　Wail；　wail；　screech；　wail；　howl；　honk；　squeak　went　the　bagpipes；　increasing　the　Captain's　already　considerable　pleasure　at　the　thought　that　any　moment　now　they　might　stop。　That　was　something　he　looked　forward　to　as　well。
　　What　else　was　pleasant；　he　asked　himself？　Well；　so　many　things：　the　red　and　gold　of　the　trees；　now　that　autumn　was　approaching；　the　peaceful　chatter　of　scissors　a　few　feet　from　his　bath　where　a　couple　of　hairdressers　were　exercising　their　skills　on　a　dozing　art　director　and　his　assistant；　the　sunlight　gleaming　off　the　six　shiny　telephones　lined　up　along　the　edge　of　his　rock…hewn　bath。　The　only　thing　nicer　than　a　phone　that　didn't　ring　all　the　time　（or　indeed　at　all）　was　six　phones　that　didn't　ring　all　the　time　（or　indeed　at　all）。
　　Nicest　of　all　was　the　happy　murmur　of　all　the　hundreds　of　people　slowly　assembling　in　the　clearing　around　him　to　watch　the　afternoon　mittee　meeting。
　　The　Captain　punched　his　rubber　duck　playfully　on　the　beak。　The　afternoon　mittee　meetings　were　his　favourite。
　　Other　eyes　watched　the　assembling　crowds。　High　in　a　tree　on　the　edge　of　the　clearing　squatted　Ford　Prefect；　lately　returned　from　foreign　climes。　After　his　six　month　journey　he　was　lean　and　healthy；　his　eyes　gleamed；　he　wore　a　reindeer…skin　coat；　his　beard　was　as　thick　and　his　face　as　bronzed　as　a　country…rock　singer's。
　　He　and　Arthur　Dent　had　been　watching　the　Golgafrinchans　for　almost　a　week　now；　and　Ford　had　decided　to　stir　things　up　a　bit。
　　The　clearing　was　now　full。　Hundreds　of　men　and　women　lounged　around；　chatting；　eating　fruit；　playing　cards　and　generally　having　a　fairly　relaxed　time　of　it。　Their　track　suits　were　now　all　dirty　and　even　torn；　but　they　all　had　immaculately　styled　hair。　Ford　was　puzzled　to　see　that　many　of　them　had　stuffed　their　track　suits　full　of　leaves　and　wondered　if　this　was　meant　to　be　some　form　of　insulation　against　the　ing　winter。　Ford's　eyes　narrowed。　They　couldn't　be　interested　in　botany　of　a　sudden　could　they？
　　In　the　middle　of　these　speculations　the　Captain's　voice　rose　above　the　hubbub。
　　〃Alright；〃　he　said；　〃I'd　like　to　call　this　meeting　to　some　sort　of　order　if　that's　at　all　possible。　Is　that　alright　with　everybody？〃　He　smiled　genially。　〃In　a　minute。　When　you're　all　ready。〃
　　The　talking　gradually　died　away　and　the　clearing　fell　silent；　except　for　the　bagpiper　who　seemed　to　be　in　some　wild　and　uninhabitable　musical　world　of　his　own。　A　few　of　those　in　his　immediate　vicinity　threw　some　leaves　to　him。　If　there　was　any　reason　for　this　then　it　escaped　Ford　Prefect　for　the　moment。
　　A　small　group　of　people　had　clustered　round　the　Captain　and　one　of　them　was　clearly　beginning　to　speak。　He　did　this　by　standing　up；　clearing　his　throat　and　then　gazing　off　into　the　distance　as　if　to　signify　to　the　crowd　that　he　would　be　with　them　in　a　minute。
　　The　crowd　of　course　were　riveted　and　all　turned　their　eyes　on　him。
　　A　moment　of　silence　followed；　which　Ford　judged　to　be　the　right　dramatic　moment　to　make　his　entry。　The　man　turned　to　speak。
　　Ford　dropped　down　out　of　the　tree。
　　〃Hi　there；〃　he　said。
　　The　crowd　swivelled　round。
　　〃Ah　my　dear　fellow；〃　called　out　the　Captain；　〃Got　any　matches　on　you？　Or　a　lighter？　Anything　like　that？〃
　　〃No；〃　said　Ford；　sounding　a　little　deflated。　It　wasn't　what　he'd　prepared。　He　decided　he'd　better　be　a　little　stronger　on　the　subject。
　　〃No　I　haven't；〃　he　continued；