The fascists2 held the crests3 of the hills here. Then there was a valley that no one held except for a fascist1 post in a farmhouse4 with its outbuildings and its barn that they had fortified5. Andr廥, on his way to Golz with the message from Robert Jordan, made a wide circle around this post in the dark. He knew where there was a trip wire laid that fired a set-gun and he located it in the dark, stepped over it, and started along the small stream bordered with poplars whose leaves were moving with the night wind. A cock crowed at the farmhouse that was the fascist post and as he walked along the stream he looked back and saw, through the trunks of the poplars, a light showing at the lower edge of one of the windows of the farmhouse. The night was quiet and clear and Andr廥 left the stream and struck across the meadow.
There were four haycocks in the meadow that had stood there ever since the fighting in July of the year before. No one had ever carried the hay away and the four seasons that had passed had flattened6 the cocks and made the hay worthless.
Andr廥 thought what a waste it was as he stepped over a trip wire that ran between two of the haycocks. But the Republicans would have had to carry the hay up the steep Guadarrama slope that rose beyond the meadow and the fascists did not need it, I suppose, he thought.
They have all the hay they need and all the grain. They have much, he thought. But we will give them a blow tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning we will give them something for Sordo. What barbarians7 they are! But in the morning there will be dust on the road.
He wanted to get this message-taking over and be back for the attack on the posts in the morning. Did he really want to get back though or did he only pretend he wanted to be back? He knew the reprieved8 feeling he had felt when the _Ingl廥_ had told him he was to go with the message. He had faced the prospect10 of the morning calmly. It was what was to be done. He had voted for it and would do it. The wiping out of Sordo had impressed him deeply. But, after all, that was Sordo. That was not them. What they had to do they would do.
But when the _Ingl廥_ had spoken to him of the message he had felt the way he used to feel when he was a boy and he had wakened in the morning of the festival of his village and heard it raining hard so that he knew that it would be too wet and that the bullbaiting in the square would be cancelled.
He loved the bullbaiting when he was a boy and he looked forward to it and to the moment when he would be in the square in the hot sun and the dust with the carts ranged all around to close the exits and to make a closed place into which the bull would come, sliding down out of his box, braking with all four feet, when they pulled the end-gate up. He looked forward with excitement, delight and sweating fear to the moment when, in the square, he would hear the clatter11 of the bull's horns knocking against the wood of his travelling box, and then the sight of him as he came, sliding, braking out into the square, his head up, his nostrils12 wide, his ears twitching13, dust in the sheen of his black hide, dried crut splashed on his flanks, watching his eyes set wide apart, unblinking eyes under the widespread horns as smooth and solid as driftwood polished by the sand, the sharp tips uptilted so that to see them did something to your heart.
He looked forward all the year to that moment when the bull would come out into the square on that day when you watched his eyes while he made his choice of whom in the square he would attack in that sudden head-lowering, horn-reaching, quick catgallop that stopped your heart dead when it started. He had looked forward to that moment all the year when he was a boy; but the feeling when the _Ingl廥_ gave the order about the message was the same as when you woke to hear the reprieve9 of the rain falling on the slate14 roof, against the stone wall and into the puddles15 on the dirt Street of the village.
He had always been very brave with the bull in those village _capeas_, as brave as any in the village or of the other near-by villages, and not for anything would he have missed it any year although he did not go to the _capeas_ of other villages. He was able to wait still when the bull charged and only jumped aside at the last moment. He waved a sack under his muzzle16 to draw him off when the bull had some one down and many times he had held and pulled on the horns when the bull had some one on the ground and pulled sideways on the horn, had slapped and kicked him in the face until he left the man to charge some one else.
He had held the bull's tail to pull him away from a fallen man, bracing17 hard and pulling and twisting. Once he had pulled the tail around with one hand until he could reach a horn with the other and when the bull had lifted his head to charge him he had run backwards18, circling with the bull, holding the tail in one hand and the horn in the other until the crowd had swarmed19 onto the bull with their knives and stabbed him. In the dust and the heat, the shouting, the bull and man and wine smell, he had been in the first of the crowd that threw themselves onto the bull and he knew the feeling when the bull rocked and bucked20 under him and he lay across the withers21 with one arm locked around the base of the horn and his hand holding the other horn tight, his fingers locked as his body tossed and wrenched22 and his left arm felt as though it would tear from the socket23 while he lay on the hot, dusty, bristly, tossing slope of muscle, the ear clenched24 tight in his teeth, and drove his knife again and again and again into the swelling25, tossing bulge26 of the neck that was now spouting27 hot on his fist as he let his weight hang on the high slope of the withers and banged and banged into the neck.
The first time he had bit the ear like that and held onto it, his neck and jaws28 stiffened29 against the tossing, they had all made fun of him afterwards. But though they joked him about it they had great respect for him. And every year after that he had to repeat it. They called him the bulldog of Villaconejos and joked about him eating cattle raw. But every one in the village looked forward to seeing him do it and every year he knew that first the bull would come out, then there would be the charges and the tossing, and then when they yelled for the rush for the killing30 he would place himself to rush through the other attackers and leap for his hold. Then, when it was over, and the bull settled and sunk dead finally under the weight of the killers31, he would stand up and walk away ashamed of the ear part, but also as proud as a man could be. And he would go through the carts to wash his hands at the stone fountain and men would clap him on the back and hand him wineskins and say, "Hurray for you, Bulldog. Long life to your mother."
Or they would say, "That's what it is to have a pair of _cojones!_ Year after year!"
Andr廥 would be ashamed, empty-feeling, proud and happy, and he would shake them all off and wash his hands and his right arm and wash his knife well and then take one of the wineskins and rinse32 the ear-taste out of his mouth for that year; spitting the wine on the stone flags of the plaza33 before he lifted the wineskin high and let the wine spurt34 into the back of his mouth.
Surely. He was the Bulldog of Villaconejos and not for anything would he have missed doing it each year in his village. But he knew there was no better feeling than that one the sound of the rain gave when he knew he would not have to do it.
But I must go back, he told himself. There is no question but that I must go back for the affair of the posts and the bridge. My brother Eladio is there, who is of my own bone and flesh. Anselmo, Primitivo, Fernando, Agust璯, Rafael, though clearly he is not serious, the two women, Pablo and the _Ingl廥_, though the _Ingl廥_ does not count since he is a foreigner and under orders. They are all in for it. It is impossible that I should escape this proving through the accident of a message. I must deliver this message now quickly and well and then make all haste to return in time for the assault on the posts. It would be ignoble36 of me not to participate in this action because of the accident of this message. That could not be clearer. And besides, he told himself, as one who suddenly remembers that there will be pleasure too in an engagement only the onerous37 aspects of which he has been considering, and besides I will enjoy the killing of some fascists. It has been too long since we have destroyed any. Tomorrow can be a day of much valid38 action. Tomorrow can be a day of concrete acts. Tomorrow can be a day which is worth something. That tomorrow should come and that I should be there.
Just then, as knee deep in the gorse he climbed the steep slope that led to the Republican lines, a partridge flew up from under his feet, exploding in a whirr of wingbeats in the dark and he felt a sudden breath-stopping fright. It is the suddenness, he thought. How can they move their wings that fast? She must be nesting now. I probably trod close to the eggs. If there were not this war I would tie a handkerchief to the bush and come back in the daytime and search out the nest and I could take the eggs and put them under a setting hen and when they hatched we would have little partridges in the poultry39 yard and I would watch them grow and, when they were grown, I'd use them for callers. I wouldn't blind them because they would be tame. Or do you suppose they would fly off? Probably. Then I would have to blind them.
But I don't like to do that after I have raised them. I could clip the wings or tether them by one leg when I used them for calling. If there was no war I would go with Eladio to get crayfish from that stream back there by the fascist post. One time we got four dozen from that stream in a day. If we go to the Sierra de Gredos after this of the bridge there are fine streams there for trout40 and for crayfish also. I hope we go to Gredos, he thought. We could make a good life in Gredos in the summer time and in the fall but it would be terribly cold in winter. But by winter maybe we will have won the war.
If our father had not been a Republican both Eladio and I would be soldiers now with the fascists and if one were a soldier with them then there would be no problem. One would obey orders and one would live or die and in the end it would be however it would be. It was easier to live under a regime than to fight it.
But this irregular fighting was a thing of much responsibility. There was much worry if you were one to worry. Eladio thinks more than I do. Also he worries. I believe truly in the cause and I do not worry. But it is a life of much responsibility.
I think that we are born into a time of great difficulty, he thought. I think any other time was probably easier. One suffers little because all of us have been formed to resist suffering. They who suffer are unsuited to this climate. But it is a time of difficult decisions. The fascists attacked and made our decision for us. We fight to live. But I would like to have it so that I could tie a handkerchief to that bush back there and come in the daylight and take the eggs and put them under a hen and be able to see the chicks of the partridge in my own courtyard. I would like such small and regular things.
But you have no house and no courtyard in your no-house, he thought. You have no family but a brother who goes to battle tomorrow and you own nothing but the wind and the sun and an empty belly41. The wind is small, he thought, and there is no sun. You have four grenades in your pocket but they are only good to throw away. You have a carbine on your back but it is only good to give away bullets. You have a message to give away. And you're full of crap that you can give to the earth, he grinned in the dark. You can anoint it also with urine. Everything you have is to give. Thou art a phenomenon of philosophy and an unfortunate man, he told himself and grinned again.
But for all his noble thinking a little while before there was in him that reprieved feeling that had always come with the sound of rain in the village on the morning of the fiesta. Ahead of him now at the top of the ridge35 was the government position where he knew he would be challenged.
法西斯分子占领着这里这些山头。还有个山谷没人防守，只有一家带外屋和牲口棚的农舍，法西斯分子筑了工事，当作哨所。安德烈斯带着罗伯特、乔丹的信件在黑夜中去找戈尔兹，他兜了个大闻子，绕过这个哨所。他知道什么地方有根绊索,踩上就会牵动上了膛的枪扳机，他在黑夜中辨认出来，跨了过去，沿着一条岸边栽有白杨树的小河走去 树叶随着夜风覼动。一只公鸡在法西斯分子当做哨所的农舍里啼叫；他一边沿河走,一边回头望望，从白杨树干间看见农舍有扇窗子的下半部鳝出了灯光。夜寂静而晴朗，安德烈斯离开小河,穿过草地走去。
草地上有四个尖顶草垛，上一年七月打仗以来就堆在那儿了。没人把草搬走，过去的四季风吹雨打，垛尖都坍下去了，草成了废料。
安德烈斯跨过拉在两堆草垛间的绊索时想，这真是糟蹋啊。他想:共和分子不得不把草背上草地那边陡峭的瓜达拉马山坡，法西斯分子呢，看来就不需要草料申
他想:他们不缺草料粮食,他们有的是。伹是明天早臊我们要干他们一下子。明天早晨我们要给“聋子”报一下仇。他们真是野蛮人早晨公路上可要热闹啦，
他要赶快把信送到,赶回去参加早晨对哨所袭击。然而,他真的想回去吗?还是只不过假装想回去？英国人通知他由他去送信时，他体会到一种危险暂时缓解的感觉。他平静地看待早晨将要发生的事情，该干的总得干嘛。他赞成并愿意干这件事。“聋子”的毁灭深深地擻动了他。然而,那毕竟是“聋子”,可不是他们。他们要干他们不得不于的事。
伹是当英国人向他交待那信件时，他的心情就象他小时候在村子里过节时的有种感觉一样 那天早晨他醒过来,听到雨声很大，他知道地上太湿,。”场上的逗牛戏不能举行了
他小时候很喜欢逗牛戏,他盼望它,盼望自己来到炎日照耀、尘土飞扬的。”场上的时刻,只见一辆辆大车排成一困,堵住了条条出口，形成一个封闭的场子，人们把活动牛棚前面的栅门提起来,公牛从里面被倒出来，四只脚使劲抵着底板。他叉激动又客悦,吓得出汗,盼望着这一时刻，那时，在。”场上，他能听到牛角搐击着活动牛棚的木板垴的哒哒声，接着，看它四脚抵着底板，滑到场上,昂起了脑袋，鼻孔张得大大的,耳朵抽搐着,光亮的黑皮上蒙着尘土，腰部溅满了已干的粪便；看见它那双间距很大的、一吃不眨的眼睛，张得很开的牛角，既光滑又坚实，好象被沙子磨光的漂到海滩上的碎木,锋利的角尖往上翘起，那槟样叫人看了可有些胆战心惊。
他整年盼望着公牛入场的那一天,那时你望着它的眼晴，只见它在。”场上选择攻击对象，脑袋突然垂下，竖起双角，象猫那样迅速奔跑，一幵始就使你的心完全停止跳动。他小时候整年盼望着那一刻，但是英国人吩咐送信时所引起的感觉,就象你当初醒来听到雨水落在石板屋顶、石墙和村里泥泞街道的水潭里，知道逗牛戏只得延期举行时的感觉一样。
他在村里那些逗牛的场合总是非常英勇，跟本村以及附近村里的任何人一样英勇。他说什么也不愿错过任何一年的逗牛戏,尽管他不到邻村去参如。公牛冲来时他能镇静等待,到最后‘刻才跳开。当公牛把别人撞倒时,他在它嘴下挥动一只麻袋引开它。他曾多次抓住了牛角，拖住那把人撞倒在地的公牛，横拉牛角，在它脸上揍啊賜的,直到它撖开那倒地的人去攻击别人。他曾抓住了牛尾巴,用力拉紧，拖着，绞着，把公牛从那栽倒的人身边拖开。有一次，他一手把牛尾巴扭回来,使另一只手能抓住牛角,等到公牛昂起头来攻击他的时侯,他一手握着牛尾巴，一手握着牛角，向后倒退着和牛一起打着转,最后大伙一拥而上,扑在牛身上用刀子戳。尘土飞扬,你喊我叫,一片炎热中夹着牛、人和酒的气味，在向公牛扑过去的人群中,他是第一个。公牛在他身体下摇摇晃晃，猛然弓背跃起，他伏在牛肩隆上，一条胳膊.紧勾住牛角根部，一手抓紧另一只角，紧扣着手指，苘时他的身体被弓起来，被扭甩，左臂好象要脱臼似的，而他伏在那热呼呼、灰蒙蒙、毛茸茸的顛簸着的牛背上，牙齿紧咬住一只牛耳朵，一刀又一刀地扎进那上下颠簸着的胀大的脖子根，这时,热血喷在他拳头上，而他全身挂在那高髙的牛肩隆上，连连地戳着牛胯子。这时的感觉他记得多真切坰。
他第一次象这样咬牛耳朵、咬住了不放的时候，他的脖子和牙床在颠簸中变得偃直了,之后大家都开他的玩笑。伹是，他们虽然拿这个来取笑他，却非常敬佩他。此后他每年都要再出一次风头。他们称他是维利亚康纳霍斯的叭喇狗,还取笑他吃生牛肉。但是,村里人人盼着看他耍牛，每年，他都知道，先是公牛上场,然后是朝人冲击和角挑，然后大伙儿叫嚷着要人冲上去把牛杀死,他就从其他攻击的人们中冲出去，一跃而上，抓住了牛。等到最后公牛被大伙儿压得倒毙地上，事情结束后,他会站起身来走开去，为咬耳朵的情节而害臊，但也骄傲得很。然后他穿过大车之间到喷水泉旁去洗手，人们拍拍他的背,递给他皮酒袋，说！“你这叭喇狗，真棒。祝你娘长命百岁。，
他们或者说,“男子汉就应该有这种气概1年年都了不起1”安镰烈斯就会觉得难为佾，空虚,骄傲而快乐,他撤开大家,把他的双手、右臂和刀子洙干净，然后拿起一只酒袋,先湫湫口，去掉那年的牛耳朵的味道,把酒吐在。”场的石板地上,然后商举起酒袋,把酒直灌进嗓子眼里。
当然啦。他是维利亚康纳霍斯的叭喇狗，他无论如何也不愿错过村里每年举行的逗牛戏。但是他知道，什么也比不上雨声所产生的感觉更美好,因为这时他明白可以不必干了。
可是我必须赶回去,他对自己说。毫无疑问,我得赶回去袭击哨所，炸桥。我的兄弟埃拉迪奥在那儿，他是我的亲骨肉-还有安塞尔莫、普里米蒂伏、费尔南多、奥古斯丁、拉斐尔，尽管他显然是个油腔滑调的人。还有两个女的，还有巴勃罗和英国人，不过，这英国人不能算数，因为他是外国人，是奉命而来的。他们大家都要参加在内。我不可能由于送信这偶然性的事而逃避这场考验。我现在得好好地赶快把信送到，然后十万火急地回去赶上袭击哨所。为了送信而不参加这次袭击，我就丢脸了。这是再清楚也没有的。还有，就象一直只考虑打仗的琅险一面的人突然记起了其中也会有乐趣一样，他对自己说 另外,我可以杀他几个法西斯分子来解解气。自从我们上次杀人以来，时间不短了。明天这一天可以痛痛快快地干一下子。明天这一天可以真枪实弹地干一下子。明天这一天可有意思呢。明天快快来吧,我要回去参加。
正在这时候，当他在齐膝深的金雀花丛中爬上通往共和国占区的陡坡时，黑暗中有只鹧鸪从他脚边飞起来，猛响起了一阵扑打翅膀的声音，他突然间吓得气都透不过来。他想,这么突如其来,叫人吃了一惊。它们的翅膀怎么能拍打得这么快?它现在准在孵蛋，我也许整一点踩在蛋上了。要不是这次战争,我要在这树丛上结一条手绢，天亮后回来找鸟窝，把蛋拿来放在孵小鸡的母鸡身下,等到孵出来了，我们的鸡困里躭有小鹪鸪了。我茱看它们长大,等到长大了,我要拿它们来招诱别的鶊鸪。我不会弄瞎它们的眼睛，因为这东西会驯脤的。难道你以为它们会飞跑？说不定。那样我只得把它们的覼睛弄瞎啦。
不过，我饲养的时候，可不喜欢这么做。我用鹧鸪做诱鸟的时候,可以剪掉它们的翅膀，或者拴住一只脚。要是不打仗，我要和埃拉迪奥一起到法西斯哨所旁边的小河里去摸小龙虾。我们有次在小河里一天摸到了四五十只。要是我们炸桥后到袼雷多斯山区去的话，那儿也有几条漂亮的小河，可以摈鳟鱼和小龙郎。他想。”但愿我们到格雷多斯山区去。我们在复天和秋天可以在格雷多斯山区把日子过得满不错，不过冬天冷得不得了，不过，我们到冬天也许已经胜利了。
要是我们的父亲不是共和分子，埃拉迪奥和我现在都在替法酉斯分子当兵了；要是替他们当了兵，那么就没有问题了。活也好，死也好，一个人得服从命令；结果怎样，由不得自己。在一个政权下过日子要比反抗那个政权容易些。
伹是这种非正规打仗的责任是很大的。要是你是个会发愁的人,那么可以发愁的事真多着呢。埃拉迪奥比我会动脑筋。他也会发愁。我真心相信这个亊业，我不发愁。但是这样过曰子赍任是很重大的。
他想,依我看，我们生在一个十分艰难的时世 依我看，任何别的时世都可能要好些。我们大家生来就愤于过苦日子，因此也不觉得苦了,不适应这种环境的人就诋得苦。但这是个叫人难下决断的时世明。法西斯分子发动进攻，替我们作出了决断。我们是为了活命才打仗的。但是我情愿事佾不这样发展，使我能在那儿树丛上缚一条手绢，天亮的时候去拿蛋，放在母鸡身下，这样就能在自己的院子里看到小鹧鸪。我就喜欢这种平常的小东西。
他想:但是你没有家，赛来房子，骤来院子呢。你只有一个亲人，明天要去打仗的兄弟，你什么也没有，只有风、太阳和一个空肚子。风不大，他想,眼前也没有太阳。你衣袋里有四个手枏弹,但是除了扔出去之外没有别的用处肩背上有一支卡宾枪，但是除了把子弹打出去之外没有别的用处。你有一份信件得送出去，你有一肚子的屎可以拉在地上。他在黑暗中 齿笑了。你还可以在上面撤泡尿哪。你所有的每样东西都是准备拿出去的，你是个了不起的哲学家,你这倒霉蛋,他对自己说，又露齿笑了。但尽管刚才那一会儿他脑海里闪现着髙尚的思想，他心里还是盘旋着那种在村里随着节日早晨的雨声同来的暂时得到缓解的情绪。他面前的山脊上出现了政府军的阵地，他知道在那儿要受到盘问。
收听单词发音 |
1
fascist
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| adj.法西斯主义的；法西斯党的；n.法西斯主义者，法西斯分子 | |
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fascists
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| n.法西斯主义的支持者( fascist的名词复数 ) | |
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crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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reprieved
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| v.缓期执行（死刑）( reprieve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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reprieve
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| n.暂缓执行（死刑）；v.缓期执行；给…带来缓解 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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puddles
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| n.水坑， （尤指道路上的）雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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bucked
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| adj.快v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的过去式和过去分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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withers
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| 马肩隆 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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killers
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| 凶手( killer的名词复数 )； 消灭…者； 致命物； 极难的事 | |
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rinse
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| v.用清水漂洗，用清水冲洗 | |
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plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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onerous
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| adj.繁重的 | |
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valid
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| adj.有确实根据的；有效的；正当的，合法的 | |
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poultry
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| n.家禽，禽肉 | |
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trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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