Hi ha una època, en tota vida de minyó ben construïda, en la qual li ve un desig rabiós d'anar a qualsevol indret i desenterrar un tresor amagat. A Tom li vingué el desig, un dia, de cop i volta. Sortí a la recerca de Joe Harper, però no reeixí. Després anà al darrera de Ben Rogers: havia anat a pescar. Tot seguit va topar amb Huck Finn el Mà-roja. Huck seria escaient. Tom se l'endugué a un indret reservat, i entaulà la matèria confidencialment. Huck hi vingué de grat. Huck hi venia sempre de grat, a dar un cop de mà a qualsevol empresa que oferís entreteniment i no requerís capital, perquè tenia una enutjosa sobreabundància d'aquella mena de temps que no és or.
-On cavarem?- digué Huck.
THERE comes a time in every rightly-constructed boy's life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. This desire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out to find Joe Harper, but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he had gone fishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to him confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no capital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time which is not money. "Where'll we dig?" said Huck.
-Oh! Gairebé onsevulla.
"Oh, most anywhere."
-Còm s'entén? Hi ha coses amagades per tot arreu?
"Why, is it hid all around?"
-No, és clar que no. N'hi ha en indrets especialíssims, Huck: de vegades a les illes; de vegades en caixes podrides sota un cap de branca d'un vell arbre mort, allà on l'ombra cau a la mitja nit; però principalment sota terra, a les cases on surt por.
"No, indeed it ain't. It's hid in mighty particular places, Huck--sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the end of a limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but mostly under the floor in ha'nted houses."
-Quí ho amaga?
"Who hides it?"
-Ves, lladres: és clar. Quí us pensàveu? Superintendents d'escola dominical?
"Why, robbers, of course--who'd you reckon? Sunday-school sup'rintendents?"
-No ho sé. Si el tresor fos meu, jo no l'amagaria: vinga despendre'l i divertir-me.
"I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide it; I'd spend it and have a good time."
-Jo també; però els lladres ho fan així: sempre l'amaguen i el deixen en aquell indret.
"So would I. But robbers don't do that way. They always hide it and leave it there."
-I, després, que hi tornen?
"Don't they come after it any more?"
-No: s'ho pensen, que hi tornaran; però generalment obliden les marques, o bé moren. Sigui com sigui, el tresor resta allí una pila de temps, i es rovella, i a la fi algú troba un paper vell i esgrogueït que explica còm cal trobar les marques: un paper que per desxifrar-lo s'hi passa gairebé una setmana, perquè gairebé tot són senyals i jeroglífics.
"No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or else they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and by and by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the marks--a paper that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's mostly signs and hy'roglyphics."
-Jero... què?
"Hyro--which?"
-Jeroglífics: imatges i coses, sabeu?, que sembla que no vulguin dir res.
"Hy'roglyphics--pictures and things, you know, that don't seem to mean anything."
-Que n'heu arreplegat algun, d'aquests papers, Tom?
"Have you got one of them papers, Tom?"
-No.
"No."
-Bé, doncs còm trobareu les marques?
"Well then, how you going to find the marks?"
-Poc en necessito: sempre l'enterren sota una casa on surt por, o bé una illa, o bé sota un arbre mort que té una branca allargassada. Bé, farem provatures a l'illa de Jackson, i podrem tornar-hi algun camí; i després hi ha la casa vella on surt por, amunt del rierol de Still-House, i hi ha una pila d'arbres amb branques mortes: una mala fi!
"I don't want any marks. They always bury it under a ha'nted house or on an island, or under a dead tree that's got one limb sticking out. Well, we've tried Jackson's Island a little, and we can try it again some time; and there's the old ha'nted house up the Still-House branch, and there's lots of dead-limb trees--dead loads of 'em."
-I tots en tenen, a sota?
"Is it under all of them?"
-I ara! No!
"How you talk! No!"
-Doncs còm sabreu quín és el que hem d'escorcollar?
"Then how you going to know which one to go for?"
-Anirem escorcollant-los tots.
"Go for all of 'em!"
-O Tom! Ens pendrà tot l'istiu!
"Why, Tom, it'll take all summer."
-Bé, i què hi fa? Suposeu-vos que trobem un pot de llauna amb cent dòlars a dins, tots rovellats i eixerits, o bé una caixa podrida tota plena de diamants: què us sembla?
"Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred dollars in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten chest full of di'monds. How's that?"
A Huck li resplendiren els ulls.
Huck's eyes glowed.
-Això és de primera, i no demano altra cosa. Deu-me només els cent dòlars, i deixo de banda els diamants.
"That's bully. Plenty bully enough for me. Just you gimme the hundred dollars and I don't want no di'monds."
-Molt bé ; però em jugaria qualsevol cosa que no els deixareu córrer, els diamants. Algun d'ells, tot sol, val una vintena de dòlars. Amb prou feines n'hi ha cap que no valgui sis malles o bé un dòlar.
"All right. But I bet you I ain't going to throw off on di'monds. Some of 'em's worth twenty dollars apiece--there ain't any, hardly, but's worth six bits or a dollar."
-Còm! De bo de bo?
"No! Is that so?"
-Ja ho crec! Qualsevol us ho dirà. Huck, de segur que mai n'heu vist.
"Cert'nly--anybody'll tell you so. Hain't you ever seen one, Huck?"
-No pas que jo recordi.
"Not as I remember."
-Oh! Els reis en tenen a carretades.
"Oh, kings have slathers of them."
-Bé, jo no en conec, de reis, Tom.
"Well, I don' know no kings, Tom."
-Ja m'ho penso; però, si us calgués anar a Europa, en veuríeu més que no en caben en un rai, saltant d'ací d'allà.
"I reckon you don't. But if you was to go to Europe you'd see a raft of 'em hopping around."
-Que salten?
"Do they hop?"
-Saltar? Romansos! No!
"Hop?--your granny! No!"
-Bé, doncs, per què ho dieu, que saltaven?
"Well, what did you say they did, for?"
-Manoi! Només volia dir que els veuríeu: no pas saltant, és clar! Per què havien de voler saltar? Però volia dir que els podríeu veure... escampats per totes bandes, sabeu?, d'una manera general: com feia aquell vell geperut de Ricard.
"Shucks, I only meant you'd see 'em--not hopping, of course--what do they want to hop for?--but I mean you'd just see 'em--scattered around, you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that old humpbacked Richard."
-Ricard? Còm més se diu?
"Richard? What's his other name?"
-No es deia de cap més manera. Els reis no tenen més que un motiu.
"He didn't have any other name. Kings don't have any but a given name."
-Sí?
"No?"
-Tanmateix.
"But they don't."
-Bé, si els plau, Tom, en bona hora sigui; però jo no vull ser-ne, de rei, i tenir només que un motiu, com un negre. Però digueu: on cavareu, de primer?
"Well, if they like it, Tom, all right; but I don't want to be a king and have only just a given name, like a nigger. But say--where you going to dig first?"
-Bé, no ho sé. Què us sembla, de sorollar aquell arbre de la branca morta que hi ha al turó, a l'altra banda, del rierol de Spill House?
"Well, I don't know. S'pose we tackle that old dead-limb tree on the hill t'other side of Still-House branch?"
-Fet.
"I'm agreed."
Així, doncs, prengueren un magall atrotinat i una pala, i eixiren cap a fer un viatge de tres milles. Arribaren encesos i panteixant, i s'ajagueren a l'ombra d'un om veí a reposar i a fumar.
So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set out on their three-mile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw themselves down in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke.
-Em plau, això- digué Tom.
"I like this," said Tom.
-A mí també.
"So do I."
-Escolteu, Huck: si trobéssim un tresor aquí, què en faríeu, de la vostra part?
"Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what you going to do with your share?"
-Ves, vinga pastells i un vas de soda cada dia, i aniria a cada circ que vingués. Faig juguesca que tindria una vida regalada.
"Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda every day, and I'll go to every circus that comes along. I bet I'll have a gay time."
-Bé, no faríeu cap estalvi?
"Well, ain't you going to save any of it?"
-Estalvi? Per què?
"Save it? What for?"
-Ves, per tenir alguna cosa per anar tirant.
"Why, so as to have something to live on, by and by."
-Oh! No em fóra de cap servei: mon pare tornaria al poble, qualsevol dia, i li clavaria la grapa si jo no cuitava; i us dic que en faria neteja ben de pressa. I vós, què en farieu, de la vostra, Tom?
"Oh, that ain't any use. Pap would come back to thish-yer town some day and get his claws on it if I didn't hurry up, and I tell you he'd clean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?"
-Em compraria un timbal nou, i una espasa ben feridora, i una corbata roja, i un gos cadell ben valent, i em casaria.
"I'm going to buy a new drum, and a sure'nough sword, and a red necktie and a bull pup, and get married."
-Us casaríeu?
"Married!"
-Això.
"That's it."
-Tom! Vós... Vaja, que no teniu el seny complet.
"Tom, you--why, you ain't in your right mind."
-Espereu: ja veureu.
"Wait--you'll see."
-Bé, és la més gran beneiteria que poguéssiu fer. Mireu, mon pare i ma mare! Vinga barallar-se! Ves, tot el dia s'estaven barallant. Me'n recordo d'allò més bé.
"Well, that's the foolishest thing you could do. Look at pap and my mother. Fight! Why, they used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty well."
-Això no vol dir res. La noia que jo em casaré no es barallarà amb mí.
"That ain't anything. The girl I'm going to marry won't fight."
-Tom, em penso que totes són iguales. Totes són bones per pentinar-lo, a un hom. Val més que us hi penseu una mica. Còm se diu, la mossa?
"Tom, I reckon they're all alike. They'll all comb a body. Now you better think 'bout this awhile. I tell you you better. What's the name of the gal?"
-No és una mossa: és una nena.
"It ain't a gal at all--it's a girl."
-Tant se val, em penso. Alguns diuen mossa, altres diuen nena: tothom té raó, ben segur. Sigui com sigui, còm se diu, Tom?
"It's all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl--both's right, like enough. Anyway, what's her name, Tom?"
-Us ho diré una altra vegada: no pas ara.
"I'll tell you some time--not now."
-Molt bé: amb això en tinc prou. Però, si us caseu, jo estaré més sol i vern que mai.
"All right--that'll do. Only if you get married I'll be more lonesomer than ever."
-No, no n'estareu: vindreu a viure amb mi. Ara deixem-ho córrer això, i comencem de cavar.
"No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and we'll go to digging."
Treballaren i suaren per espai de mitja hora: fou endebades. Maldaren una altra mitja hora: endebades també. Huck va dir:
They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled another halfhour. Still no result. Huck said:
-I sempre ho enterren tan endins?
"Do they always bury it as deep as this?"
-De vegades: no sempre. Generalment no. Em penso que no hem trobat la banda justa.
"Sometimes--not always. Not generally. I reckon we haven't got the right place."
Així, doncs, escolliren un nou indret i tornaren a començar. El treball s'arrossegà una mica, però tanmateix avançava. Enfonzaren en silenci les eines una estona. A fa fi Huck es decantà damunt la seva pala, fregà amb la mànega el rosari de gotes del seu front, i digué:
So they chose a new spot and began again. The labor dragged a little, but still they made progress. They pegged away in silence for some time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from his brow with his sleeve, and said:
-On cavareu, després, quan haguem acabat aquí?
"Where you going to dig next, after we get this one?"
-Em penso que tal vegada sorollarem l'arbre vell de més enllà, a Cardiff Hill, darrera la casa de la viuda.
"I reckon maybe we'll tackle the old tree that's over yonder on Cardiff Hill back of the widow's."
-Em sembla que aquell serà bo. Però no ens en traurà, la viuda, Tom? És a les seves terres.
"I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow take it away from us, Tom? It's on her land."
-Ella, treure'ns! No estaria malament; que ho provés una vegada a la vida! Aquests tresors amagats pertanyen a qui els troba. Tant se val de qui sigui, la terra.
"She take it away! Maybe she'd like to try it once. Whoever finds one of these hid treasures, it belongs to him. It don't make any difference whose land it's on."
Això era satisfactori. La feina continuà. Al cap de una estoneta Huck digué:
That was satisfactory. The work went on. By and by Huck said:
-Malvinatge! Altra vegada devem estar en mala banda. Què us en sembla?
"Blame it, we must be in the wrong place again. What do you think?"
-És ben estrany, Huck. No ho entenc. De vegades les bruixes s'hi fiquen. Arribo a pensar que això és el que ens embolica, ara.
"It is mighty curious, Huck. I don't understand it. Sometimes witches interfere. I reckon maybe that's what's the trouble now."
-Cançons! Les bruixes no tenen poder, de dia.
"Shucks! Witches ain't got no power in the daytime."
-Sí, és veritat. No se m'havia acudit, això. Oh! Ja sé què ho fa! Som un parell de ximples del diastre! Cal esbrinar on cau l'ombra de la branca a la mitja nit, i allà és on s'ha de cavar!
"Well, that's so. I didn't think of that. Oh, I know what the matter is! What a blamed lot of fools we are! You got to find out where the shadow of the limb falls at midnight, and that's where you dig!"
-Aleshores, mala negada! hem perdut rucament tot aquest treball per no-res! Ara, malvinatge! no tenim més remei que tornar de nit. És un camí d'allò més llarg. Podreu eixir?
"Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for nothing. Now hang it all, we got to come back in the night. It's an awful long way. Can you get out?"
-Ja ho crec, que sí! I ho hem de fer aquesta nit, tanmateix; perquè, si algú veu aquests forats, coneixerà tot seguit per què són, i ho vindrà a cercar.
"I bet I will. We've got to do it tonight, too, because if somebody sees these holes they'll know in a minute what's here and they'll go for it."
-Bé, ja donaré un tomb, aquesta nit, i miolaré.
"Well, I'll come around and maow tonight."
-Molt bé. Amaguem les eines sota les mates.
"All right. Let's hide the tools in the bushes."
Els minyons foren allí aquella nit, prop de l'hora assenyalada. Segueren en l'ombra, esperant. Es trobaven en un indret soliu i en una hora feta solemne per les velles tradicions. Els esperits zumzejaven en les fulles murmuradores; les fantasmes sotjaven en les llòbregues reconades; el pregon udol d'un ca venia surant, de la distància; una òliba responia amb la seva nota sepulcral. Els minyons, corpresos d'aquestes solemnitats, no parlaven gaire. Al cap de poc judicaren que ja havien sonat les dotze: marcaren on queia l'ombra i començaren de cavar. Llurs esperances començaven de deixondir-se. Llur interès es féu més intens, i llur treball va créixer al seu compàs. El forat s'enfondia, s'enfondia; però, cada vegada que llurs cors saltaven en oir que el magall topava amb quelcom, no feien sinó sofrir una nova decepció. Només era que una pedra o un tros de fusta. A la fi Tom digué:
The boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat in the shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn by old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurked in the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the distance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were subdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged that twelve had come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to dig. Their hopes commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and their industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened, but every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike upon something, they only suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stone or a chunk. At last Tom said:
-És inútil, Huck: l'hem errada altre cop.
"It ain't any use, Huck, we're wrong again."
-Bé, però és que no podem errar-la: hem marcat l'ombra amb un senyal.
"Well, but we can't be wrong. We spotted the shadder to a dot."
-Ja ho sé; però és que hi ha una altra cosa.
"I know it, but then there's another thing."
-Quína és?
"What's that?".
-Que no férem sinó calcular-lo, el temps: segurament era massa tard o massa d'hora.
"Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough it was too late or too early."
Huck deixà caure la pala.
Huck dropped his shovel.
-Vet-ho aquí- digué: -aquest és el mal de cap! Hem de deixar-ho córrer, això d'aquí: mai no sabrem l'hora exacta. I, a més a més, aquesta mena de cosa fa massa basarda: haver d'estar-se aquí, en aquesta hora de la nit, amb bruixes i fantasmes voleiant pels contorns d'aquesta manera! Jo diria que hi ha alguna cosa al darrera meu d'ençà que hem començat, i tinc por de girar-me, perquè potser n'hi ha d'altres al davant que no esperen sinó una avinentesa. D'ençà que só aquí que miro d'escórrer-me tan llatí com puc.
"That's it," said he. "That's the very trouble. We got to give this one up. We can't ever tell the right time, and besides this kind of thing's too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts a-fluttering around so. I feel as if something's behind me all the time; and I'm afeard to turn around, becuz maybe there's others in front a-waiting for a chance. I been creeping all over, ever since I got here."
-Bé, a mi em passa tres sous del mateix, Huck. Gairebé sempre enterren un mort quan colguen un tresor sota un arbre; i ell el vigila.
"Well, I've been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in a dead man when they bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it."
-Déu me val!
"Lordy!"
-Sí, que ho fan. Sempre ho he sentit a dir.
"Yes, they do. I've always heard that."
-Tom, no em plau de fer gaire plagasitats, allà on hi ha gent morta. Un hom per força ha de passar-hi trifulgues: en bona refè!
"Tom, I don't like to fool around much where there's dead people. A body's bound to get into trouble with 'em, sure."
-Tampoc a mi em plau, de remenar-los gaire. Suposeu-vos que aquest aixequés la closca i digués alguna cosa!
"I don't like to stir 'em up, either. S'pose this one here was to stick his skull out and say something!"
-No ho digueu, Tom! Això esgarrifa!
"Don't Tom! It's awful."
-Oi! Huck, no tinc un bri de tranquil·litat.
"Well, it just is. Huck, I don't feel comfortable a bit."
-Escolteu, Tom: deixem estar aquest indret, i mirem de reeixir en qualsevol altre.
"Say, Tom, let's give this place up, and try somewheres else."
-Molt bé: em sembla que val més.
"All right, I reckon we better."
-Quín serà?
"What'll it be?"
Tom pensà una mica, i després digué:
Tom considered awhile; and then said:
-La casa on surt por. Vet-ho aquí.
"The ha'nted house. That's it!"
-Mala nina! No m'agraden, Tom, les cases on surt por. Ves, són unes bandes soliues, de més mal tirat que no pas la gent morta. La gent morta podria enraonar, potser; però no vénen lliscant-vos al voltant, dins una mortalla, quan no us en adoneu, i sotjant damunt l'espatlla tot d'un plegat, i esmolant les dents com ho fa una fantasma. No podria comportar-la una cosa així, Tom: ningú s'hi veuria amb cor.
"Blame it, I don't like ha'nted houses, Tom. Why, they're a dern sight worse'n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don't come sliding around in a shroud, when you ain't noticing, and peep over your shoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I couldn't stand such a thing as that, Tom--nobody could."
-Sí, Huck; però les fantasmes no volten si no és de nit: no ens destorbaran pas de cavar, mentre sigui de dia.
"Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don't travel around only at night. They won't hender us from digging there in the daytime."
-Bé, és veritat; però massa sabeu que la gent no s'acosta a la casa on surt por, de dia ni de nit.
"Well, that's so. But you know mighty well people don't go about that ha'nted house in the day nor the night."
-Oi: això és, sobretot, perquè no els plau d'anar on un home ha estat assassinat, ça com lla. Però mai ningú ha vist res d'especial, en aquesta casa, si no és de nit; i total algun llumenet blau passant per les finestres, i no pas fantasmes com cal.
"Well, that's mostly because they don't like to go where a man's been murdered, anyway--but nothing's ever been seen around that house except in the night--just some blue lights slipping by the windows--no regular ghosts."
-Bé,allí on veieu un d'aquests llumenets blaus que voleia, Tom, us podeu jugar qualsevol cosa que hi ha una fantasma d'allò més a prop. És cosa de raó; perquè ja sabeu que ningú no se'n val, fora de les fantasmes.
"Well, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, Tom, you can bet there's a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands to reason. Becuz you know that they don't anybody but ghosts use 'em."
-Sí, és així; però tanmateix no volten pas de dia: així és que no tindria cap ni centener, que ens espantéssim.
"Yes, that's so. But anyway they don't come around in the daytime, so what's the use of our being afeard?"
-Molt bé: sorollarem la casa on surt por, si vós ho dieu: però em sembla que és arriscar-se.
"Well, all right. We'll tackle the ha'nted house if you say so--but I reckon it's taking chances."
Mentrestant havien començat a davallar pel turó. Allà, en mig de la vall que era sota d'ells, il·luminada per la lluna, estava la casa on surt por, totalment isolada, amb el clos desaparegut feia qui-sap-lo temps, amb rengles d'herbes que sufocaven el seu llindar, la xemeneia esfondrada, els marcs de les finestres buits, un recó de la teulada foradat. Els minyons la contemplaren una estona, amb mitja esperança de veure un llumenet blau voleiant darrera una finestra. Després, parlant en veu baixa, com esqueia al temps i a les circumstàncies, s'allunyaren d'allò més cap a la dreta, per donar a la casa on surtia por un ample esbarjo, i prengueren el camí de casa a través dels boscos que agençaven al darrera de Cardiff Hill.
They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle of the moonlit valley below them stood the "ha'nted" house, utterly isolated, its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the very doorsteps, the chimney crumbled to ruin, the window-sashes vacant, a corner of the roof caved in. The boys gazed awhile, half expecting to see a blue light flit past a window; then talking in a low tone, as befitted the time and the circumstances, they struck far off to the right, to give the haunted house a wide berth, and took their way homeward through the woods that adorned the rearward side of Cardiff Hill.