苗疆小说网

苗疆小说网>老人与海电子书 > 第5章 The Old Man and the Big Fish(第1页)

第5章 The Old Man and the Big Fish(第1页)

Hischoicehadbeentostayinthedeepdarkwaterfaroutbeyondallsnaresandtrapsandtreacheries。Mychoicewastogotheretofindhimbeyondallpeople。Beyondallpeopleintheworld。Nowwearejoinedtogetherandhavebeensincenoon。Andnoonetohelpeitheroneofus。

PerhapsIshouldnothavebeenafisherman,hethought。ButthatwasthethingthatIwasbornfor。Imustsurelyremembertoeatthetunaafteritgetslight。

Sometimebeforedaylightsomethingtookoneofthebaitsthatwerebehindhim。Heheardthestickbreakandthelinebegintorushoutoverthegunwaleoftheskiff。Inthedarknessheloosenedhissheathknifeandtakingallthestrainofthefishonhisleftshoulderheleanedbackandcutthelineagainstthewoodofthegunwale。Thenhecuttheotherlineclosesttohimandinthedarkmadethelooseendsofthereservecoilsfast。Heworkedskillfullywiththeonehandandputhisfootonthecoilstoholdthemashedrewhisknotstight。Nowhehadsixreservecoilsofline。Thereweretwofromeachbaithehadseveredandthetwofromthebaitthefishhadtakenandtheywereallconnected。

Afteritislight,hethought,Iwillworkbacktotheforty-fathombaitandcutitawaytooandlinkupthereservecoils。IwillhavelosttwohundredfathomsofgoodCatalancordelandthehooksandleaders。Thatcanbereplaced。ButwhoreplacesthisfishifIhooksomefishanditcutshimoff?Idontknowwhatthatfishwasthattookthebaitjustnow。Itcouldhavebeenamarlinorabroadbillorashark。Ineverfelthim。Ihadtogetridofhimtoofast。

Aloudhesaid“,IwishIhadtheboy。”

Butyouhaventgottheboy,hethought。Youhaveonlyyourselfandyouhadbetterworkbacktothelastlinenow,inthedarkornotinthedark,andcutitawayandhookupthetworeservecoils。

Sohedidit。Itwasdifficultinthedarkandoncethefishmadeasurgethatpulledhimdownonhisfaceandmadeacutbelowhiseye。Thebloodrandownhischeekalittleway。Butitcoagulatedanddriedbeforeitreachedhischinandheworkedhiswaybacktothebowandrestedagainstthewood。Headjustedthesackandcarefullyworkedthelinesothatitcameacrossanewpartofhisshouldersand,holdingitanchoredwithhisshoulders,hecarefullyfeltthepullofthefishandthenfeltwithhishandtheprogressoftheskiffthroughthewater。

Iwonderwhathemadethatlurchfor,hethought。Thewiremusthaveslippedonthehillofhisback。Certainlyhisbackcannotfeelasbadlyasminedoes。Buthecannotpullthisskiffforever,nomatterhowgreatheis。NoweverythingisclearedawaythatmightmaketroubleandIhaveabigreserveofline;allthatamancanask。

“Fish,”hesaidsoftly,aloud,“IllstaywithyouuntilIamdead。”

Hellstaywithmetoo,Isuppose,theoldmanthoughtandhewaitedforittobelight。Itwascoldnowinthetimebeforedaylightandhepushedagainstthewoodtobewarm。Icandoitaslongashecan,hethought。Andinthefirstlightthelineextendedoutanddownintothewater。Theboatmovedsteadilyandwhenthefirstedgeofthesunroseitwasontheoldmansrightshoulder。

“Hesheadednorth,”theoldmansaid。Thecurrentwillhavesetusfartotheeastward,hethought。Iwishhewouldturnwiththecurrent。Thatwouldshowthathewastiring。

Whenthesunhadrisenfurthertheoldmanrealizedthatthefishwasnottiring。Therewasonlyonefavorablesign。Theslantofthelineshowedhewasswimmingatalesserdepth。Thatdidnotnecessarilymeanthathewouldjump。Buthemight。“Godlethimjump,”theoldmansaid。“Ihaveenoughlinetohandlehim。”

MaybeifIcanincreasethetensionjustalittleitwillhurthimandhewilljump,hethought。Nowthatitisdaylightlethimjumpsothathellfillthesacksalonghisbackbonewithairandthenhecannotgodeeptodie。

Hetriedtoincreasethetension,butthelinehadbeentautuptotheveryedgeofthebreakingpointsincehehadhookedthefishandhefelttheharshnessasheleanedbacktopullandknewhecouldputnomorestrainonit。Imustnotjerkitever,hethought。Eachjerkwidensthecutthehookmakesandthenwhenhedoesjumphemightthrowit。AnywayIfeelbetterwiththesunandforonceIdonothavetolookintoit。

Therewasyellowweedonthelinebuttheoldmanknewthatonlymadeanaddeddragandhewaspleased。ItwastheyellowGulfweedthathadmadesomuchphosphorescenceinthenight。

“Fish,”hesaid,“Iloveyouandrespectyouverymuch。ButIwillkillyoudeadbeforethisdayends。”

Letushopeso,hethought。

Asmallbirdcametowardtheskifffromthenorth。Hewasawarblerandflyingverylowoverthewater。Theoldmancouldseethathewasverytired。

Thebirdmadethesternoftheboatandrestedthere。Thenheflewaroundtheoldmansheadandrestedonthelinewherehewasmorecomfortable。

“Howoldareyou?”theoldmanaskedthebird。“Isthisyourfirsttrip?”

Thebirdlookedathimwhenhespoke。Hewastootiredeventoexaminethelineandheteeteredonitashisdelicatefeetgrippeditfast。

“Itssteady,”theoldmantoldhim。“Itstoosteady。Youshouldntbethattiredafterawindlessnight。Whatarebirdscomingto?”

Thehawks,hethought,thatcomeouttoseatomeetthem。Buthesaidnothingofthistothebirdwhocouldnotunderstandhimanywayandwhowouldlearnaboutthehawkssoonenough。

“Takeagoodrest,smallbird,”hesaid。“Thengoinandtakeyourchancelikeanymanorbirdorfish。”

Itencouragedhimtotalkbecausehisbackhadstiffenedinthenightandithurttrulynow。

“Stayatmyhouseifyoulike,bird,”hesaid。“IamsorryIcannothoistthesailandtakeyouinwiththesmallbreezethatisrising。ButIamwithafriend。”

Justthenthefishgaveasuddenlurchthatpulledtheoldmandownontothebowandwouldhavepulledhimoverboardifhehadnotbracedhimselfandgivensomeline。

Thebirdhadflownupwhenthelinejerkedandtheoldmanhadnotevenseenhimgo。Hefeltthelinecarefullywithhisrighthandandnoticedhishandwasbleeding。

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