wind sand and stars st.antoine de saint-exupery-第4部分
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he airport。 And it said： 〃Monsieur de Saint Exupery； I am obliged to remend that you be disciplined at Paris for having flown too close to the hangars on leaving Casablanca。〃
It was true that I had done this。 It was also true that this man was performing his duty with irritability。 I should have been humiliated if this reproach had been addressed to me in an airport。 But it reached me where it had no right to reach me。 Among these too rare stars； on this bed of fog； in this menacing savor of the sea； it burst like a detonation。 Here we were with our fate in our hands； the fate of the mails and of the ship； we had trouble enough to try to keep alive； and this man was purging his petty rancor against us。
But Neri and I were far from nettled。 What we felt was a vast and sudden jubilation。 Here it was we who were masters； and this man was letting us know it。 The impudent little corporal！ not to have looked at our stripes and seen that we had been promoted captain！ To intrude into our musings when we were solemnly taking our constitutional between Sagittarius and the Great Bear！ When the only thing we could be concerned with； the only thing of our order of magnitude； was this appointment we were missing with the moon！
The immediate duty； the only duty of the planet whence this man's message came； was to furnish us accurate figures for our putations among the stars。 And its figures had been false。 This being so； the planet had only to hold its tongue。 Neri scribbled： 〃Instead of wasting their time with this nonsense they would 'do better to haul us back to Cisneros； if they can。〃 By 〃they〃 he meant all the peoples of the globe； with their parliaments； their senates； their navies； their armies； their emperors。 We re…read the message from that man mad enough to imagine that he had business with us； and tacked in the direction of Mercury。
It was by the purest chance that we were saved。 I had given up all thought of making Cisneros and had set my course at right angles to the coast…line in the hope that thus we might avoid ing down at sea when our fuel ran out。 Meanwhile however I was in the belly of a dense fog so that even with land below it was not going to be easy to set the ship down。 The situation was so clear that already I was shrugging my shoulders ruefully when Neri passed me a second message which； an hour earlier； would have been our salvation。 〃Cisneros；〃 it said； 〃has deigned to municate with us。 Cisneros says； '216 doubtful。〃' Well； that helped。 Cisneros was no longer swallowed up in space； it was actually out there on our left； almost within reach。 But how far away？ Neri and I talked it over briefly； 。 decided it was too late to try for it （since that might mean missing the coast）； and Neri replied： 〃Only one hour fuel left continuing on 93。〃
But the airports one by one had been waking each other up。 Into our dialogue broke the voices of Agadir； Casablanca； Dakar。 The radio stations at each of these towns had warned the airports and the ports had flashed the news to our rades。 Bit by bit they were gathering round us as round a sick…bed。 Vain warmth； but human warmth after all。 Helpless concern； but affectionate at any rate。
And suddenly into this conclave burst Toulouse； the headquarters of the Line three thousand miles away； worried along with the rest。 Toulouse broke in without a word of greeting； simply to say sharply： 〃Your reserve tanks bigger than standard。 You have two hours fuel left。 Proceed to Cisneros。〃
There is no need of nights like the one just described to make the airline pilot find new meanings in old appearances。 The scene that strikes the passenger as monplace is from the very moment of taking off animated with a powerful magic for the crew。 It is the duty of the ship's captain to make port； cost what it may。 The sight of massing clouds is no mere spectacle to him： it is a matter of concern to his physical being； and to his mind it means a set of problems。 Before he is off the ground he has taken its measure； and between him and it a bond is formed which is a veritable language。
There is a peak ahead； still distant。 The pilot will not reach it before another hour of flight in the night。 What is to be the significance of that peak？ On a night of full moon it will be a useful landmark。 In fainter moonglow it will be a bit of wreckage strewn in shadow； dangerous； but marked clearly enough by the lights of villages。 But if the pilot flies blind； has bad luck in correcting his drift； is dubious about his position； that peak begins to stir with a strange life and its threat fills the breadth of the night sky in the same way as a single mine； drifting at the will of the current； can render the whole of the ocean a danger。
The face of the sea is as variable as that of the earth。 To passengers； the storm is invisible。 Seen from a great height； the waves have no relief and the packets of fog have no movement。 The surface of the sea appears to be covered with great white motionless palm…trees； palms marked with ribs and seams stiff in a sort of frost。 The sea is like a splintered mirror。 But the hydroplane pilot knows there is no landing here。
The hours during which a man flies over this mirror are hours in which there is no assurance of the possession of anything in the world。 These palms beneath the plane are so many poisoned flowers。 And even when the flight is an easy one； made under a shining sun； the pilot navigating at some point on the line is not gazing upon a scene。 These colors of earth and sky； these traces of wind over the face of the sea； these clouds golden in the afterglow； are not objects of the pilot's admiration； but of his cogitation。 He looks to them to tell him the direction of the wind or the progress of the storm； and the quality of the night to e。
Even as the peasant strolling about his domain is able to foresee in a thousand signs the ing of the spring； the threat of frost； a promise of rain； so all that happens in the sky signals to the pilot the oning snow； the expectancy of fog； or the peace of a blessed night。 The machine which at first blush seems a means of isolating man from the great problems of nature； actually plunges him more deeply into them。 As for the peasant so for the pilot； dawn and twilight bee events of consequence。 His essential problems are set him by the mountain； the sea； the wind。 Alone before the vast tribunal of the tempestuous sky； the pilot defends his mails and debates on terms of equality with those three elemental divinities。
The mail pouches for which he is responsible are stowed away in the after hold。 They constitute the dogma of the religion of his craft； the torch which； in this aerial race； is passed from runner to runner。 What matter though they hold but the scribblings of tradesmen and nondescript lovers。 The interests which dictated them may very well not be worth the embrace of man and storm； but I know what they bee once they have been entrusted to the crew； taken over； as the phrase is。 The crew care not a rap for banker or tradesman。 If； some day； the crew are hooked by a cliff it will not have been in the interest of tradespeople that they will have died； but in obedience to orders which ennoble the sacks of mail once they are on board ship。
What concerns us is not even the orders … it is the men they cast in their mould。
Wind； Sand and Stars by Antoine de Saint…Exupery
Chapter 1 … The CraftTitle： Wind； Sand； and Stars
Author： Antoine de Saint…Exupery
Translator： Lewis Galantiere
Publisher： Harcourt Brace Javanovich； New York； 1967
Date first posted： February 2000
Date most recently updated： January 2006
XML markup by Wesman 02/23/2000。
Wind Sand and Stars
Antoine de Saint…Exupery
2
The Men
Mermoz is one airline pilot； and Guillaumet another； of whom I shall write briefly in order that you may see clearly what I mean when I say that in the mould of this new profession a new breed of men has been cast。
I
A handful of pilots； of whom Mermoz was one； surveyed the CasabIanca…Dakar line across the territory inhabited by the refractory tribes of the Sahara。 Motors in those days being what they were； Mermoz was taken prisoner one day by the Moors。 The tribesmen were unable to make up their minds to kill him； kept him a captive a fortnight； and he was eventually ransomed。 Whereupon he continued to fly over the same territory。
When the South American line was opened up Mermoz； ever the pioneer； was given the job of surveying the division between Buenos Aires and Santiago de Chile。 He who had flung a bridge over the Sahara was now to do the same over the Andes。 They had given him a plane whose absolute ceiling was sixteen thousand feet and had asked him to fly it over a mountain range that rose more than twenty thousand feet into the air。 His job was to search for gaps in the Cordilleras。 He who had studied the face of the sands was now to learn the contours of the peaks； those crags whose scarfs of snow flutter restlessly in the winds； whose surfaces are bleached white in the storms； whose blustering gusts sweep through the narrow walls of their rocky corridors and force the pilot to a sort of han
