苗疆小说网

苗疆小说网>老人与海讲的是什么故事 > 第6章 Tired of the Old Man(第1页)

第6章 Tired of the Old Man(第1页)

Itwasgettingintotheafternoonandtheboatstillmovedslowlyandsteadily。Buttherewasanaddeddragnowfromtheeasterlybreezeandtheoldmanrodegentlywiththesmallseaandthehurtofthecordacrosshisbackcametohimeasilyandsmoothly。

Onceintheafternoonthelinestartedtoriseagain。Butthefishonlycontinuedtoswimataslightlyhigherlevel。Thesunwasontheoldmansleftarmandshoulderandonhisback。Soheknewthefishhadturnedeastofnorth。

Nowthathehadseenhimonce,hecouldpicturethefishswimminginthewaterwithhispurplepectoralfinssetwideaswingsandthegreaterecttailslicingthroughthedark。Iwonderhowmuchheseesatthatdepth,theoldmanthought。Hiseyeishugeandahorse,withmuchlesseye,canseeinthedark。OnceIcouldseequitewellinthedark。Notintheabsolutedark。Butalmostasacatsees。

Thesunandhissteadymovementofhisfingershaduncrampedhislefthandnowcompletelyandhebegantoshiftmoreofthestraintoitandheshruggedthemusclesofhisbacktoshiftthehurtofthecordalittle。

“Ifyourenottired,fish,”hesaidaloud,“youmustbeverystrange。”

Hefeltverytirednowandheknewthenightwouldcomesoonandhetriedtothinkofotherthings。HethoughtoftheBigLeagues,tohimtheyweretheGranLigas,andheknewthattheYankeesofNewYorkwereplayingtheTigresofDetroit。

ThisistheseconddaynowthatIdonotknowtheresultofthejuegos,hethought。ButImusthaveconfidenceandImustbeworthyofthegreatDiMaggiowhodoesallthingsperfectlyevenwiththepainofthebonespurinhisheel。Whatisabonespur?Heaskedhimself。Unespueladehueso。Wedonothavethem。Canitbeaspainfulasthespurofafightingcockinonesheel?IdonotthinkIcouldendurethatorthelossoftheeyeandofbotheyesandcontinuetofightasthefightingcocksdo。Manisnotmuchbesidethegreatbirdsandbeasts。StillIwouldratherbethatbeastdownthereinthedarknessofthesea。

“Unlesssharkscome,”hesaidaloud。“Ifsharkscome,Godpityhimandme。”

DoyoubelievethegreatDiMaggiowouldstaywithafishaslongasIwillstaywiththisone?Hethought。Iamsurehewouldandmoresinceheisyoungandstrong。Alsohisfatherwasafisherman。Butwouldthebonespurhurthimtoomuch?

“Idonotknow,”hesaidaloud。“Ineverhadabonespur。”

Asthesunsetheremembered,togivehimselfmoreconfidence,thetimeinthetavernatCasablancawhenhehadplayedthehandgamewiththegreatnegrofromCienfuegoswhowasthestrongestmanonthedocks。Theyhadgoneonedayandonenightwiththeirelbowsonachalklineonthetableandtheirforearmsstraightupandtheirhandsgrippedtight。Eachonewastryingtoforcetheothershanddownontothetable。Therewasmuchbettingandpeoplewentinandoutoftheroomunderthekerosenelightsandhehadlookedatthearmandhandofthenegroandatthenegrosface。Theychangedtherefereeseveryfourhoursafterthefirsteightsothattherefereescouldsleep。Bloodcameoutfromunderthefingernailsofbothhisandthenegroshandsandtheylookedeachotherintheeyeandattheirhandsandforearmsandthebettorswentinandoutoftheroomandsatonhighchairsagainstthewallandwatched。Thewallswerepaintedbrightblueandwereofwoodandthelampsthrewtheirshadowsagainstthem。Thenegrosshadowwashugeanditmovedonthewallasthebreezemovedthelamps。

Theoddswouldchangebackandforthallnightandtheyfedthenegrorumandlightedcigarettesforhim。ThentheNegro,aftertherum,wouldtryforatremendouseffortandoncehehadtheoldman,whowasnotanoldmanthenbutwasSantiagoElCampeon,nearlythreeinchesoffbalance。Buttheoldmanhadraisedhishanduptodeadevenagain。Hewassurethenthathehadthenegro,whowasafinemanandagreatathlete,beaten。Andatdaylightwhenthebettorswereaskingthatitbecalledadrawandtherefereewasshakinghishead,hehadunleashedhiseffortandforcedthehandofthenegrodownanddownuntilitrestedonthewood。ThematchhadstartedonaSundaymorningandendedonaMondaymorning。ManyofthebettorshadaskedforadrawbecausetheyhadtogotoworkonthedocksloadingsacksofsugarorattheHavanaCoalCompany。Otherwiseeveryonewouldhavewantedittogotoafinish。Buthehadfinisheditanywayandbeforeanyonehadtogotowork。

ForalongtimeafterthateveryonehadcalledhimTheChampionandtherehadbeenareturnmatchinthespring。ButnotmuchmoneywasbetandhehadwonitquiteeasilysincehehadbrokentheconfidenceofthenegrofromCienfuegosinthefirstmatch。Afterthathehadafewmatchesandthennomore。Hedecidedthathecouldbeatanyoneifhewantedtobadlyenoughandhedecidedthatitwasbadforhisrighthandforfishing。Hehadtriedafewpracticematcheswithhislefthand。Buthislefthandhadalwaysbeenatraitorandwouldnotdowhathecalledonittodoandhedidnottrustit。

Thesunwillbakeitoutwellnow,hethought。Itshouldnotcramponmeagainunlessitgetstoocoldinthenight。Iwonderwhatthisnightwillbring。

AnairplanepassedoverheadonitscoursetoMiamiandhewatcheditsshadowscaringuptheschoolsofflyingfish。

“Withsomuchflyingfishthereshouldbedolphin,”hesaid,andleanedbackonthelinetoseeifitwaspossibletogainanyonhisfish。Buthecouldnotanditstayedatthehardnessandwaterdropshiveringthatprecededbreaking。Theboatmovedaheadslowlyandhewatchedtheairplaneuntilhecouldnolongerseeit。

Itmustbeverystrangeinanairplane,hethought。Iwonderwhatthesealookslikefromthatheight?Theyshouldbeabletoseethefishwelliftheydonotflytoohigh。Iwouldliketoflyveryslowlyattwohundredfathomshighandseethefishfromabove。IntheturtleboatsIwasinthecross-treesofthemast-headandevenatthatheightIsawmuch。Thedolphinlookgreenerfromthereandyoucanseetheirstripesandtheirpurplespotsandyoucanseealloftheschoolastheyswim。Whyisitthatallthefast-movingfishofthedarkcurrenthavepurplebacksandusuallypurplestripesorspots?Thedolphinlooksgreenofcoursebecauseheisreallygolden。Butwhenhecomestofeed,trulyhungry,purplestripesshowonhissidesasonamarlin。Canitbeanger,orthegreaterspeedhemakesthatbringsthemout?

Justbeforeitwasdark,astheypassedagreatislandofSargassoweedthatheavedandswunginthelightseaasthoughtheoceanweremakinglovewithsomethingunderayellowblanket,hissmalllinewastakenbyadolphin。Hesawitfirstwhenitjumpedintheair,truegoldinthelastofthesunandbendingandflappingwildlyintheair。Itjumpedagainandagainintheacrobaticsofitsfearandheworkedhiswaybacktothesternandcrouchingandholdingthebiglinewithhisrighthandandarm,hepulledthedolphininwithhislefthand,steppingonthegainedlineeachtimewithhisbareleftfoot。Whenthefishwasatthestern,plungingandcuttingfromsidetosideindesperation,theoldmanleanedoverthesternandliftedtheburnishedgoldfishwithitspurplespotsoverthestern。Itsjawswereworkingconvulsivelyinquickbitesagainstthehookanditpoundedthebottomoftheskiffwithitslongflatbody,itstailanditsheaduntilheclubbeditacrosstheshininggoldenheaduntilitshiveredandwasstill。

Theoldmanunhookedthefish,rebaitedthelinewithanothersardineandtosseditover。Thenheworkedhiswayslowlybacktothebow。Hewashedhislefthandandwipeditonhistrousers。Thenheshiftedtheheavylinefromhisrighthandtohisleftandwashedhisrighthandintheseawhilehewatchedthesungointotheoceanandtheslantofthebigcord。

“Hehasntchangedatall,”hesaid。Butwatchingthemovementofthewateragainsthishandhenoticedthatitwasperceptiblyslower。

“Illlashthetwooarstogetheracrossthesternandthatwillslowhiminthenight,”hesaid。“HesgoodforthenightandsoamI。”

Itwouldbebettertogutthedolphinalittlelatertosavethebloodinthemeat,hethought。Icandothatalittlelaterandlashtheoarstomakeadragatthesametime。Ihadbetterkeepthefishquietnowandnotdisturbhimtoomuchatsunset。Thesettingofthesunisadifficulttimeforallfish。

Helethishanddryintheairthengraspedthelinewithitandeasedhimselfasmuchashecouldandallowedhimselftobepulledforwardagainstthewoodsothattheboattookthestrainasmuch,ormore,thanhedid。

Imlearninghowtodoit,hethought。Thispartofitanyway。Thentoo,rememberhehasnteatensincehetookthebaitandheishugeandneedsmuchfood。Ihaveeatenthewholebonito。TomorrowIwilleatthedolphin。Hecalleditdorado。PerhapsIshouldeatsomeofitwhenIcleanit。Itwillbehardertoeatthanthebonito。But,then,nothingiseasy。

“Howdoyoufeel,fish?”heaskedaloud。“IfeelgoodandmylefthandisbetterandIhavefoodforanightandaday。Pulltheboat,fish。”

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