杰克·伦敦/Jack London

　　The man had fallen into the creek and had sprained his ankle.

　　He called to his friend,“I say, Bill, wait there. I've sprained my ankle.”

　　There was no answer. Bill had disappeared in the damp fog. Although it was still August, the Canadian wilderness lay cold and lonely in the weak light of the afternoon sun. Everywhere was the dull skyline. The hills were all low-lying. There were no trees. There was nothing but desolation that sent fear into the man's heart.

　　“Bill!”he called again,“Bill!”There was no answer.

　　The man rose to his feet, shaking as if he had a fever. He fought against the fear in his heart. He found his gun where he had dropped it in the water. Then he continued his way slowly. The gun was now useless, for he had no ammunition for it, but he did not leave it.

　　He shifted his pack to his left shoulder so as to favor his right ankle and hurried to the top of a hill. From there he saw a broad valley, empty of life.

　　The bottom of the valley was soft and swampy. He pushed on, trying to follow the tracks of his companion.

　　Though he was now alone, he was not lost. Farther along he knew where to find the trail. He would follow it until it came to the river, where they had left their canoe, weighted down with rocks. Under the canoe was a cache of ammunition for his empty gun, fishhooks and lines, and a small net. He would also find some flour, bacon, and beans-not much, for they had taken most of their food with them on their trip into the north country looking for gold.

　　He knew Bill would wait for him there;then they would paddle down the river to a Hudson Bay Company post, where there would be warm shelter and plenty of food.

　　These were the thoughts of the man as he limped along the trail. Then he began to think that perhaps Bill had deserted him. The man had not eaten for two days, and now was the added fear of starvation. He had stopped a few times to eat some wild berries, but they were mostly seeds and bitter. His hunger increased by the hour.

　　Already the sun had slipped beyond the horizon. Suddenly he struck his toe on a rocky ledge and fell. He lay still for some time without movement. Then he slipped out of his pack straps and dragged himself to a sitting position. It was not yet dark, and in the lingering twilight he gathered some moss. When he had a good-sized pile, he built a fire and set a small pail of water over the fire to boil.

　　He unwrapped his pack, and the first thing he did was to count his matches. There were sixty-seven. He counted them three times to make sure. He divided them into three small packs, wrapping them in oil paper, putting one bunch in his empty tobacco pouch, another bunch in the inside band of his hat, and the third bunch under his shirt on his chest. He was afraid that if he fell into the water again, all of his matches would become wet and useless.

　　He dried his footgear by the fire. The wet moccasins had been cut to pieces. The socks were worn through in places, and his ankle had swollen to the size of his knee. He tore a long strip from one of his blankets and bound the ankle tightly. He tore other strips and bound them about his feet for footwear. He was cold, and he knew that there would soon be the danger of snow and frost. After the water heated, he drank some of it;then he wound his watch, and crawled between his blankets. He slept like a dead man.

　　At six o'clock he awoke, lying on his back. He gazed straight up into the gray sky and knew that he was hungry. As he rolled over on his elbow, he heard a loud snort and saw a caribou looking at him strangely. The animal was not more than fifty feet away, and instantly the man had thoughts of a caribou steak frying over a fire. He reached for his empty gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The animal snorted at the click of the empty gun and ran away.

　　The man cursed and groaned aloud as he dragged himself to his feet. Slowly he rolled his pack together. He looked at the moose-hide bag that he carried in his pack. It was extra weight, and he began to wonder what value its contents had now. However, he rolled it together with his pace and started out.

　　The pain in his ankle was terrific, but it was no worse than that in his empty stomach. The hunger had become frightful. In a little while he came upon a valley where some birds rose on whirring wings,“Ker……ker……ker,”they cried as they flew away. He threw stones but he could not hit a one. He placed his pack on the ground and began to stalk the birds like a cat.

　　The sharp rocks cut through his pants legs till his knees were scratched and bleeding, but he was not aware of his hurts as his hunger was so great. He cursed the birds and mocked them with their own cry.

　　As the day wore on, he came into a valley where game was more plentiful. A herd of twenty caribou passed by within rifle range. He felt like running after them, but he knew such an effort would be senseless. Once he saw a fox with a bird in its mouth. He called loudly, hoping to frighten the fox into dropping the bird;but the fox, leaping away in fright, did not drop the bird.

　　He was weary and often wished to rest-to lie down and sleep, but he was driven on by his hunger. He searched little ponds for frogs and dug up the earth with his finger nails for worms, though he knew that neither frogs nor worms lived that far north.

　　In one area he walked along a creek, looking for fish. In a pool he found a small one. He dipped his arm into the water up to his shoulder, but the fish got away. Then he reached for it with both hands, stirring up the mud at the bottom. In his excitement he fell in, wetting himself to the waist. Since he could no longer see the fish, he had to wait until the water cleared.

　　When he tried again, the water became muddy. Then he took his tin pail and began to bail the pool. He bailed wildly at first, and some of the water ran back into the pool. Then he worked more carefully, though his heart was pounding in his chest and his hands were shaking. At the end of half an hour the pool was nearly dry. But there was no fish. It had escaped between the rocks into a larger pool.

　　Defeated in his effort, the man sat down upon the wet earth. At first he cried softly to himself. Then he cried loudly in his hopeless condition.

　　He built a fire and warmed himself and drank some hot water. His blankets were wet and cold, and his ankle was still painful, but his worst suffering came from his hunger. He tried to sleep, but he dreamed of food and many good things to eat.

　　He awoke cold and sick. There was no sun. The air about him grew white while he made a fire and boiled some water. It was wet snow, half rain, and the flakes melted quickly and put out his fire.

　　By this time he had become hunger-mad. He felt through the snow and pulled up some grass roots. He chewed the roots but they were tasteless or bitter.

　　He had no fire that night because he couldn't find any dry wood, so he crawled under his blanket to sleep the broken sleep of hunger. The snow turned into a cold rain. He felt it on his face during the night.

　　Late the next morning the sun broke through the gray mist. Then the man realized he was lost. He turned northward to correct his course, hoping to find the river and the canoe. Then he wondered what had happened to Bill.

　　Though his hunger pains were no worse, he realized he was getting weaker. He had to stop frequently to rest. His tongue felt dry and large, and his mouth had a bitter taste. His heart gave him a great deal of trouble. He could feel its thump, thump, thump;and the painful beats choked him and made him feel faint.

　　In the middle of the day he caught two small fish in a pool by using his pail. He ate the fish raw, but the hunger pain was now dull and lifeless. His stomach had gone to sleep.

　　In the morning he caught three more small fish, eating two of them and saving one for his breakfast. Another night passed. In the morning he tied more strips of the blanket around his feet, and then he untied the string of the moose-hide pouch. From its open mouth poured a yellow stream of coarse gold dust and nuggets. He knew he must lighten his load. He hardly had the strength to carry the last remaining blanket. He roughly divided the gold into halves. He poured half of the gold into a piece of blanket and rolled it into a small package, which he hid in a rock ledge.

　　Then he walked on, barely able to place one foot ahead of the other.

　　He faced another day of cold fog. Half of his last blanket had gone to wrap his feet. He was now too weak to carry his small pack. Again he divided the gold, this time by spilling half of it on the ground. In the afternoon he threw the rest of it away. There remained only the half blanket, the tin pail, his knife, and the rifle.

　　He pushed on for an hour before he fell into a faint. Aroused by a noise, he could not believe his eyes. Before him stood a horse. A horse!Rubbing his eyes, he suddenly realized he was looking at a great brown bear.

　　The man brought his gun half way to his shoulder before he remembered it was not loaded. He lowered it and drew his hunting knife, wondering if the bear would attack. The man drew himself up to his full height, stared at the bear and waited. The bear advanced a few steps and then stopped. The man knew if he ran, the bear would run after him. With all his might the man swung the knife and growled like an animal. The bear did not understand the mysterious creature and walked away.

　　The man pulled himself together and went on, afraid now in a new way. There were wolves. Now and again the wolves, in packs of two and three, crossed his path. They stayed clear of the man, for it was easier to hunt the caribou.

　　In the late afternoon he came upon the bones of a caribou calf. He sat on the moss and gathered the bones into a heap, and then he chewed them with his bare teeth, trying to get a mouthful of the raw meat. Then he pounded the bones between rocks, beating them into a pulp and swallowed it. In his haste he almost broke some of his fingers, yet he did not mind the hurt.

　　Then came frightful days of snow and rain. The will to live carried him on. It was the life in him, unwilling to die, that drove him on. By this time he had become numb to pain. Half alive, he walked, he stumbled, he crawled until he came to a river. His dull senses told him it was not the same river where he and Bill had left their canoe. He followed the course of the river downstream. He didn't know where he was-it didn't matter much anyway. But he still had the will to live, and he pushed on.

　　He awoke one morning, lying on his back on a rocky ledge. In a painful effort, he rolled over on his side. Below him he could see that the river flowed out to the sea. He was not excited about that fact, and then he saw something that he was sure was a trick of the mind. Maybe, after all, it was a dream-a ship lying at anchor. He closed his eyes and then opened them. The ship was still there. The man could not believe it.

　　Then the man heard a noise behind him-a half-choking gasp or cough. He could see nothing near at hand. Again came the strange noises, and outlined against the rocks twenty feet away was the gray head of a wolf. The animal had bloodshot eyes. It seemed sick. It was no longer able to hunt with the packs. It even feared its own kind, but now it stalked the man, waiting for him to die.

　　The man looked again toward the sea. He decided the ship was real. It was at least five miles away, but the man had the will to live. He no longer felt the hunger. His last blanket was gone, and he had lost the rifle.

　　Though extremely weak, he was calm. He ripped off his pants legs to the knees and bound them to his feet. His movements were slow, but he was determined. He still had some matches and the tin pail. He warmed some water and drank it. Now he felt slightly better, and he was able to stand. He walked toward the ship until his weakness overcame him. Then he crawled on all fours like an animal. In the late afternoon he saw an empty moose-hide sack like his. He recognized it and knew it was Bill's. A hundred yards farther were the bones of a human skeleton. The man did not need to guess. Bill had almost made it!

　　Finally the man lay quiet in sleep. Two or three times during the night the sick wolf had come close to the man, bared its teeth, and sniffed in hunger, but the man flung his arms out and scared the wolf away.

　　The first rays of daylight brought the man to life. He was no longer able to stand, so he began to crawl toward the ship. He could see it now-lying beyond the breakers. His knees and arms were raw and bleeding, but the man kept moving, a foot at a time, until he reached the beach, where he lay quietly-unable to move a foot farther. He dreamed of food, clean clothing, and warm sunshine, and then he began to crawl again.

　　The ship was the Bedford, once a whaling vessel. On board were the members of a scientific expedition. Some of the members saw a strange object crawling along the beach toward the water. They were unable to identify the object, and being scientific men, they climbed into a ship's boat and went ashore to see. And they saw something that was hardly alive and could hardly be called a human being. It moved along the ground like a worm and made headway at perhaps twenty feet an hour.

　　The man was brought aboard the Bedford, given food, and cared for by a doctor.

　　In a few days he was able to sit up in his bunk. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he told how he had almost lost his life in the wilds. Then he began to talk strangely of his family in sunny southern California, and of a home among the orange trees and the flowers.

　　一个男人掉进小溪，扭伤了脚踝。

　　他叫唤他的朋友：“喂，等我一下，比尔，我扭伤了脚。”

　　无人应答，比尔已经消失在潮湿的雾气里。尽管还只是8月份，在午后惨淡的阳光下，加拿大的荒原显得无比的孤寂和荒凉。阴沉的天空笼罩着大地。低矮的山峦，没有树木，漫山荒芜，男人周身顿时弥漫着无边的恐惧。

　　“比尔！”他又叫道，“比尔！”依然没人应答。

　　男人挣扎着站了起来，浑身颤抖。他竭力克制住内心的恐惧，找到落入水里的枪，慢慢地挪动脚步。子弹已经用完，枪也没什么用了，不过他还是没有扔掉。

　　为了减轻右脚踝的压力，他把背包挪到了左肩，然后匆匆爬上了一座小山丘，他从那儿看到了一个山谷，空旷却沉闷。

　　山谷的底部松软而潮湿。他接着赶路，想沿着踪迹追上同伴。

　　虽然孤身一人，但他并没有迷路，他知道，再走远点，就能找到路了。沿着那条路到了河边，就可以找到被石头压着的木船。掀开木船，下面有一个地窖，里面有弹药、钓竿、绳索，还有一张小网。那里还有为数不多的面粉、熏肉和蚕豆——大部分已被他们在来北方寻金的路上吃掉了。

　　比尔一定会在那里等他！他想，他们可以沿河道划船，到达那个温暖而又有足够食物的寓所——哈得孙海湾公司的一个驻扎点。

　　他边想边缓慢前行，接着又想，可能比尔已经把他抛弃了。整整两天，男人颗粒未进，快要饿死了，这使他更加恐惧。途中，他时不时地停住脚步，吃些野果子，但这些大多是苦味的籽粒。饥饿感无时无刻不在增强。

　　太阳已经下山了。突然，一块突出的大石头把他绊倒，他一动不动地躺着，很久没有起来。后来，他取下背包，挣扎着坐起来。天空还有些亮光，借着暗淡的暮色，他去采了些青苔，然后生火烧了一小壶水。

　　他打开背包，开始数火柴，还有67支。他仔仔细细地数了三遍，确定后分三个小包，用油纸包好，一包放在他的空烟袋里，另一包塞进帽子里，第三包则放进贴胸的衬衣口里。他怕万一再掉进水里，都弄湿了就不能用了。

　　他烘干鞋袜，湿的鹿皮靴都破成碎片了，袜子也磨出了好几个洞，脚踝肿得跟膝盖一样大。他从毯子上撕下一块布条，紧紧地绑住脚踝，又撕下几条缠在脚上做靴衬。他浑身冰冷，担心不已，看样子要下雪和霜冻了。水煮开后，他喝了些，又把手表上好发条，便钻进毯子里，沉沉地睡了过去。

　　醒来时已六点钟了，他仰面躺着，凝视着灰沉沉的天空，感到异常饥饿。他撑着手肘翻了翻身，这时一阵强烈的鼻息声吹进耳畔——一只大鹿正惊奇地盯着他。这家伙离他不超过50英尺，他立即想到火烤鹿肉了。他端起空枪，瞄准，扣动板机。鹿对着空枪的射击声哼着鼻子，一眨眼就消失得无影无踪。

　　那人一边大声咒骂着，一边挣扎着站起来。他慢慢地卷起背包，看着背包里的鹿皮袋子，这是额外的负担了，他开始考虑这东西现在还有没有用，但是，他还是把它卷了起来，带着它继续出发了。

　　脚踝锥心般地疼痛，但饥饿感更令他无法忍受和万分恐惧。不久，他来到了个小山谷，几只小鸟拍着翅膀“嘎……嘎……嘎……”叫着飞走了。他扔了几块石头，但没打中一只。他把背包放在地上，开始像只猫一样潜伏着接近小鸟。

　　尖尖的石头划破了他的裤腿，擦破了膝盖，流出血来，但他饿得太厉害，以至于都感觉不到疼痛。他咒骂着飞鸟，模仿着飞鸟的叫声怪叫了起来。

　　时间慢慢过去了，他来到一个峡谷，那儿有更丰富的猎物。一群鹿足有二十多只，在步枪射程之内经过，他知道要去追它们是不可能的。但是，他看到一只狐狸嘴里衔着一只鸟，他大声吆喝，想吓唬狐狸把鸟扔下，结果狐狸被吓跑了，却没有把鸟扔下。

　　他非常疲倦，时常想休息——想躺下来睡觉，但饥饿迫使他不得不前进。他在小池塘里找青蛙，用指甲挖泥土找蚯蚓，虽然他知道在遥远的北方既不会有青蛙也不会有蚯蚓。

　　他沿着一条小溪走，想找到鱼。在一个小水洼，他发现了一条小鱼。他把手臂伸进水里，水深到了肩胛，但是，鱼儿却游走了。接着他用两只手去抓，把水底的污泥都搅上来了。在慌乱中，他掉进了齐腰深的水里。因为看不见鱼，他只得等待池水澄清。

　　当他再次试图捕捞时，水又被搅浑了，于是他用小铁桶开始舀水，起先，他很用力地舀，有些水又流了回去。后来，尽管他的心在胸中激动得怦怦跳，手也在发抖，但还是小心翼翼地舀。半个小时后，水终于差不多舀干了。但还是没有鱼，它已经从石缝溜到另一个大池塘里去了。

　　白忙一场！他在湿地上坐下来，开始啜泣起来，渐渐地发出了绝望的哭声。

　　他生了一堆火取暖，又喝了些热水。毯子又冷又湿，脚踝还是疼得厉害，但饥饿依旧让他最难以忍受。他试着睡着了，但还是梦见了食物，很多丰盛的美食。

　　他冻醒过来时，浑身难受，没有一丝阳光。生火烧水时，周围的空气都变成了白色。天下着雨夹雪，雪花很快融化，把他的火堆也熄灭了。

　　这时他已经快饿疯了，他扒开雪层，拔起一些草根，咀嚼着，这些东西一点味道都没有，有的还苦涩得难以下咽。

　　这天晚上他没有生火，因为找不到一点干木柴。他只好钻到毯子底下睡觉，不时地被饿醒。整个晚上，他感觉到雪花化成了冷雨，打在他的脸上。

　　第二天早上稍晚些时候，阳光穿过了沉沉的雾气，这时他才意识到自己迷路了。他掉转方向，往北走，希望找到河流和那艘独木船，后来他又想不知道比尔怎么样了。

　　尽管饥饿的痛苦没有加剧，但他知道自己的身体机能在日趋衰竭。他常常不得不停下来休息，舌头干燥而肿大，满口苦味。心脏的麻烦更大，他能感觉到它在“怦怦”地跳得厉害，痛得简直让他窒息，眩晕不已。中午，他在一个小池塘用桶抓了两条小鱼，把它们生吃了下去，但是饥饿之痛已使他变得麻木，肠胃好像也不起作用了。

　　早上，他又抓到了三条小鱼，吃了两条，留下一条做早餐。又一个晚上过去了，清晨，他在脚上又缠了一些毯子碎条，然后解开鹿皮口袋的绳子，倒出一堆黄色的天然金沙金块。他知道必须减轻负担，他现在都没有力气带上这最后剩下的毯子了，他大致把黄金分成两份，把其中的一半倒在毯子碎条上，卷成小包，藏在一块岩石缝里。

　　随后，他继续艰难地赶路。

　　他又碰到一个寒冷的大雾天气，最后留下的那条毯子，有一半都裹在脚上了，现在他已经虚弱得连那个小背包都拿不动了。他再一次把黄金分开，这次把一半倒在地上。到了下午，剩下的也扔掉了，只留下半条毯子，一个水桶，刀和枪支。

　　他继续前行，一个多小时后，他晕了过去。当他被一个声音惊醒时，简直不敢相信自己的眼睛，一匹马站在他面前。一匹马！他擦了擦眼睛，突然发觉他看着的竟是一头大棕熊。

　　男人正准备把枪扛到肩膀上，想起里面没有子弹，便放下抢，抽出猎刀，犹疑着想熊会不会袭击他，他挺直身子，盯着那只熊，伺机而动。那只熊向前走了几步，又停住了。男人知道他如果跑的话，熊肯定会去追。他用尽全力挥舞着猎刀，像野兽一样咆哮着。熊不知道这是什么神秘的动物，也就走开了。

　　男人打起精神，继续前进。现在他又有了一种新的恐惧：这儿有狼。狼三三两两地不时走在他经过的路上，它们没有理睬男人，因为去捕鹿更省事。

　　傍晚，偶然看到一些小鹿的尸骨，他就坐在青苔上，把骨头放成一堆，用牙啃这些骨头，想啃些生肉吃。然后他用石块把骨头敲碎，碾成粉末吞下去。急切之下，他差点折断了几根手指，但现在他已经不在乎这种伤痛了。

　　接下来，又是雨雪交加的可怕天气，活下去的意念支撑着他。正是这种活下去，不能死的意志让他坚持了下来。到这个时候，他对痛苦的感觉已经麻木。半生半死的他蹒跚地走着，爬着直到来到河边。他模糊地意识到这不是他和比尔留下独木船的那条河。沿着河道往下游走，他不知道自己在哪儿——这已经不重要了，但他想活下去，他继续向前。

　　一天早上，他醒过来，发现自己仰躺在一块突出的石头上。他忍痛使劲儿侧过身来，看到下面是河道的出海口，看到这个他并没有很激动，只是觉得看到了自己的幻境。也许，毕竟，这是在做梦——有一艘船泊在那里。他闭上眼睛，又张开眼睛，那艘船还在那里，男人真不敢相信。

　　他听到身后有一个声音——一种憋气的喘息或者咳嗽。附近什么也没看到，这奇怪的声音又传过来了，前面20英尺的岩石前方，出现了一只灰色狼头的轮廓，这个野兽眼睛充满了血丝。看来是有病，不能跟狼群猎食，它甚至害怕自己的同类，但是现在它悄悄靠近这个人，等他死去。

　　男人又向大海看去，他断定那艘船是真的，它至少在五英里以外，他决心生存下去，他不再感到饥饿，扔掉了剩下的毯子，枪也被他丢掉了。

　　尽管极度虚弱，但他还是很镇定。他撕开膝盖以下的裤筒，把它们绑在脚上，他行动缓慢，但坚定不移。还有些火柴和一个铁桶，烧了些水喝。现在感觉稍微好些了，能够站起来。他朝那只船走过去，直到身体支持不住了，便又像动物一样用四肢爬过去。

　　黄昏，他看到一只和他那只相似的空鹿皮袋子，他认出来这是比尔的，100码远的地方有一副人的尸骨，不用猜，那肯定是比尔。

　　终于，男人静静地躺着睡了。夜里，那只病狼曾两三次靠近他，露出利齿，饥馋地嗅他。男人挥舞着他的手臂，把狼吓跑了。

　　第一屡阳光给男人带来了生机。他已不能站立起来，于是，他向船爬过去。现在他能看清楚它了——它就停在浪花拍岸处，他的膝盖和手臂都擦破了，流着血，但他继续移动着，每次一英尺，直到爬到海滩，他静静地躺着——一步也爬不动了。他幻想着食物，洁净的衣服，还有温暖的阳光，他又开始向前爬行。

　　这艘船是“贝德福”号，曾是捕鲸船。船上载着一支科学考察队，有几个队员看见一个奇怪的东西沿着海滩爬向水面，他们辨认不出那是什么东西。身为科研人员，他们爬上小艇，想探个究竟。结果他们看到一个很难说还活着，更很难把它称之为“人”的东西。他像一条蚯蚓一样在地面蠕动，一小时也许只前进20英尺。

　　他们把这个人抬上了“贝德福”号，给他东西吃，并让医生照看他。

　　几天后，他能在**坐起来了，他流着泪，哭诉自己差点在荒野中丢掉性命的经过。然后，他满怀憧憬地谈起了那个阳光之地——加利福尼亚的南方，他的家人住在那里，还有长满柑橘树和开满鲜花的家。

　　词汇笔记

　　wilderness['w?ld?n?s]n.荒地；大量，茫茫一片

　　Dangers lurk in the path of wilderness.

　　在这条荒野的小路上隐伏着危险。

　　desolation[,des?'le???n]n.遗弃；荒凉；破坏；凄凉

　　How can they live in such desolation?

　　他们怎么能住在这种荒凉的地方？

　　swampy['sw?mp?]adj.沼泽的；似沼泽的，软而湿的

　　A sheep is grazing in a swampy meadow.

　　一只羊在一块泥泞的草地上吃草。

　　starvation[stɑ：'ve???n]n.饿死；挨饿；绝食

　　The starvation hangs over their lives.

　　饥饿威胁着他们的生命。

　　小试身手

　　他接着赶路，想沿着踪迹追上同伴。

　　译______________________________

　　也许，毕竟，这是在做梦——有一艘船泊在那里。

　　译______________________________

　　他幻想着食物，洁净的衣服，还有温暖的阳光，他又开始向前爬行。

　　译______________________________

　　短语家族

　　He fought against the fear in his heart.

　　fight against：对抗；反对；与……作斗争

　　造______________________________

　　He shifted his pack to his left shoulder so as to favor his right ankle and hurried to the top of a hill.

　　so as to：以便；以致

　　造______________________________