The Scarlet Plague

I

I

The way led along upon what had once been the embankment of a railroad. But no train had run upon it for many years. The forest on either side swelled up the slopes of the embankment and crested across it in a green wave of trees and bushes. The trail was as narrow as a man’s body, and was no more than a wild-animal runway. Occasionally, a piece of rusty iron, showing through the forest-mould, advertised that the rail and the ties still remained. In one place, a ten-inch tree, bursting through at a connection, had lifted the end of a rail clearly into view. The tie had evidently followed the rail, held to it by the spike long enough for its bed to be filled with gravel and rotten leaves, so that now the crumbling, rotten timber thrust itself up at a curious slant. Old as the road was, it was manifest that it had been of the mono-rail type.

Jalan itu membentang di atas apa yang dahulu merupakan tanggul sebuah jalur kereta api. Namun sudah bertahun-tahun tidak ada kereta yang melintasinya. Hutan di kedua sisi menjalar naik ke lereng tanggul dan menutupinya dalam gelombang hijau pepohonan dan semak. Jalan setapak itu sesempit tubuh manusia, tak lebih dari lintasan binatang liar. Sesekali, sepotong besi berkarat yang menyembul dari tanah humus menandakan bahwa rel dan bantalannya masih ada. Di satu tempat, sebatang pohon berdiameter sepuluh inci yang menerobos di sambungan rel telah mengangkat ujung sebuah rel hingga terlihat jelas. Bantalan kayunya rupanya mengikuti rel, tertahan oleh pakunya cukup lama hingga bagian bawahnya terisi kerikil dan daun-daun busuk, sehingga kini kayu yang lapuk dan rapuh itu mencuat dengan kemiringan yang aneh. Setua apa pun jalur itu, jelas bahwa dahulu ia berjenis rel tunggal.

An old man and a boy travelled along this runway. They moved slowly, for the old man was very old, a touch of palsy made his movements tremulous, and he leaned heavily upon his staff. A rude skull-cap of goat-skin protected his head from the sun. From beneath this fell a scant fringe of stained and dirty-white hair. A visor, ingeniously made from a large leaf, shielded his eyes, and from under this he peered at the way of his feet on the trail. His beard, which should have been snow-white but which showed the same weather-wear and camp-stain as his hair, fell nearly to his waist in a great tangled mass. About his chest and shoulders hung a single, mangy garment of goat-skin. His arms and legs, withered and skinny, betokened extreme age, as well as did their sunburn and scars and scratches betoken long years of exposure to the elements.

Seorang lelaki tua dan seorang anak laki-laki menyusuri lintasan itu. Mereka bergerak lambat, sebab lelaki tua itu sudah sangat renta, sedikit kelumpuhan membuat gerakannya gemetar, dan ia bertumpu berat pada tongkatnya. Sebuah topi tempurung kasar dari kulit kambing melindungi kepalanya dari terik matahari. Dari bawahnya terurai seuntai tipis rambut putih kotor yang bernoda. Sebuah pelindung mata yang dibuat dengan cerdik dari selembar daun besar menaungi matanya, dan dari baliknya ia mengamati jalan yang diinjak kakinya di jalur itu. Janggutnya, yang seharusnya seputih salju tetapi menunjukkan kerusakan cuaca dan noda api unggun yang sama seperti rambutnya, terurai hampir sampai ke pinggang dalam gumpalan besar yang kusut. Di dada dan bahunya tergantung selembar pakaian kulit kambing yang kudisan. Lengan dan kakinya, kurus dan layu, menandakan usia yang sangat lanjut, sebagaimana kulitnya yang terbakar matahari serta bekas luka dan goresannya menandakan bertahun-tahun terpapar alam.

The boy, who led the way, checking the eagerness of his muscles to the slow progress of the elder, likewise wore a single garment—a ragged-edged piece of bear-skin, with a hole in the middle through which he had thrust his head. He could not have been more than twelve years old. Tucked coquettishly over one ear was the freshly severed tail of a pig. In one hand he carried a medium-sized bow and an arrow.

Anak laki-laki yang memimpin di depan, menahan semangat ototnya agar sesuai dengan laju lambat si tua, juga mengenakan sehelai pakaian—sepotong kulit beruang bertepi compang-camping, dengan lubang di tengah tempat ia memasukkan kepalanya. Umurnya tak mungkin lebih dari dua belas tahun. Terselip genit di salah satu telinganya ada ekor babi yang baru dipotong. Di satu tangan ia membawa busur berukuran sedang dan sebatang anak panah.

On his back was a quiverful of arrows. From a sheath hanging about his neck on a thong, projected the battered handle of a hunting knife. He was as brown as a berry, and walked softly, with almost a catlike tread. In marked contrast with his sunburned skin were his eyes—blue, deep blue, but keen and sharp as a pair of gimlets. They seemed to bore into aft about him in a way that was habitual. As he went along he smelled things, as well, his distended, quivering nostrils carrying to his brain an endless series of messages from the outside world. Also, his hearing was acute, and had been so trained that it operated automatically. Without conscious effort, he heard all the slight sounds in the apparent quiet—heard, and differentiated, and classified these sounds—whether they were of the wind rustling the leaves, of the humming of bees and gnats, of the distant rumble of the sea that drifted to him only in lulls, or of the gopher, just under his foot, shoving a pouchful of earth into the entrance of his hole.

Di punggungnya ada tabung penuh anak panah. Dari sarung yang tergantung di lehernya pada seutas tali kulit, mencuat gagang pisau berburu yang penyok. Kulitnya cokelat seperti buah beri, dan ia berjalan pelan, nyaris dengan langkah kucing. Sangat kontras dengan kulitnya yang terbakar matahari, matanya biru, biru pekat, tetapi tajam dan menusuk seperti sepasang gerudi kecil. Matanya seolah menembus segala sesuatu di sekelilingnya, sebuah kebiasaan baginya. Sambil berjalan ia juga membaui banyak hal, lubang hidungnya yang mengembang dan bergetar membawa rentetan pesan tak berkesudahan dari dunia luar ke otaknya. Pendengarannya pun tajam, dan telah terlatih sedemikian rupa sehingga bekerja dengan sendirinya. Tanpa usaha sadar, ia mendengar semua bunyi halus dalam keheningan yang tampak—mendengar, membedakan, dan menggolongkan bunyi-bunyi itu—entah itu angin yang menggemerisikkan dedaunan, dengung lebah dan nyamuk kecil, gemuruh laut yang jauh yang hanya sampai kepadanya saat angin reda, atau tikus tanah tepat di bawah kakinya yang sedang mendorong segenggam penuh tanah ke mulut liangnya.