Ross Murdock was alone, marooned3 in a time which was not his own, with little promise of escape. That one thought blanked out his mind with its own darkness. What was the use of getting up again, of trying to find food for his empty stomach, or warmth and shelter?
He had always prided himself on being able to go it alone, had thought himself secure in that calculated loneliness. Now that belief had been washed away in the river along with most of the will power which had kept him going these past days. Before, there had always been some goal, no matter how remote. Now, he had nothing. Even if he managed to reach the mouth of the river, he had no idea of where or how to summon the sub from the overseas post. All three of the time travelers might already have been written off the rolls, since they had not reported in.
Ross pulled the rag free from the sapling and wreathed it in a tight bracelet4 about his grimed wrist for some unexplainable reason. Worn and tired, he tried to think ahead. There was no chance of again contacting Ulffa's tribe. Along with all the other woodland hunters they must have fled before the advance of the horsemen. No, there was no reason to go back, and why make the effort to advance?
The sun was hot. This was one of those spring days which foretell5 the ripeness of summer. Insects buzzed in the reed banks where a green sheen showed. Birds wheeled and circled in the sky, some flock disturbed, their cries reaching Ross in hoarse6 calls of warning.
He was still plastered with patches of dried mud and slime, the reek7 of it thick in his nostrils8. Now Ross brushed at a splotch on his knee, picking loose flakes9 to expose the alien cloth of his suit underneath10, seemingly unbefouled. All at once it became necessary to be clean again at least.
Ross waded11 into the stream, stooping to splash the brown water over his body and then rubbing away the resulting mud. In the sunlight the fabric12 had a brilliant glow, as if it not only drew the light but reflected it. Wading13 farther out into the water, he began to swim, not with any goal in view, but because it was easier than crawling back to land once more.
Using the downstream current to supplement his skill, he watched both banks. He could not really hope to see either the raft or indications that its passengers had won to shore, but somewhere deep inside him he had not yet accepted the probable.
The effort of swimming broke through that fog of inertia15 which had held him since he had awakened16 that morning. It was with a somewhat healthier interest in life that Ross came ashore17 again on an arm of what was a bay or inlet angling back into the land. Here the banks of the river were well above his head, and believing that he was well sheltered, he stripped, hanging his suit in the sunlight and letting the unusual heat of the day soothe18 his body.
A raw fish, cornered in the shallows and scooped19 out, furnished one of the best meals he had ever tasted. He had reached for the suit draped over a willow21 limb when the first and only warning that his fortunes had once again changed came, swiftly, silently, and with deadly promise.
One moment the willows22 had moved gently in the breeze, and then a spear suddenly set them all quivering. Ross, clutching the suit to him with a frantic23 grab, skated about in the sand, going to one knee in his haste.
He found himself completely at the mercy of the two men standing24 on the bank well above him. Unlike Ulffa's people or the Beaker traders, they were very tall, with heavy braids of light or sun-bleached hair swinging forward on their wide chests. Their leather tunics25 hung to mid-thigh above leggings which were bound to their limbs with painted straps26. Cuff27 bracelets28 of copper29 ringed their forearms, and necklaces of animal teeth and beads30 displayed their personal wealth. Ross could not remember having seen their like on any of the briefing tapes at the base.
One spear had been a warning, but a second was held ready, so Ross made the age-old signal of surrender, reluctantly dropping his suit and raising his hands palm out and shoulder high.
"Friend?" Ross asked in the Beaker tongue. The traders ranged far, and perhaps there was a chance they had had contact with this tribe.
The spear twirled, and the younger stranger effortlessly leaped down the bank, paddling over to Ross to pick up the suit he had dropped, holding it up while he made some comment to his companion. He seemed fascinated by the fabric, pulling and smoothing it between his hands, and Ross wondered if there was a chance of trading it for his own freedom.
Both men were armed, not only with the long-bladed daggers32 favored by the Beaker folk, but also with axes. When Ross made a slight effort to lower his hands the man before him reached to his belt ax, growling33 what was plainly a warning. Ross blinked, realizing that they might well knock him out and leave him behind, taking the suit with them.
Finally, they decided34 in favor of including him in their loot. Throwing the suit over one arm, the stranger caught Ross by the shoulder and pushed him forward roughly. The pebbled35 beach was painful to Ross's feet, and the breeze which whipped about him as he reached the top of the bank reminded him only too forcibly of his ordeal36 in the glacial world.
Murdock was tempted37 to make a sudden dash out on the point of the bank and dive into the river, but it was already too late. The man who was holding the spear had moved behind him, and Ross's wrist, held in a vise grip at the small of his back, kept him prisoner as he was pushed on into the meadow. There three shaggy horses grazed, their nose ropes gathered into the hands of a third man.
A sharp stone half buried in the ground changed the pattern of the day. Ross's heel scraped against it, and the resulting pain triggered his rebellion into explosion. He threw himself backward, his bruised38 heel sliding between the feet of his captor, bringing them both to the ground with himself on top. The other expelled air from his lungs in a grunt39 of surprise, and Ross whipped over, one hand grasping the hilt of the tribesman's dagger31 while the other, free of that prisoning wrist-lock, chopped at the fellow's throat.
Dagger out and ready, Ross faced the men in a half crouch40 as he had been drilled. They stared at him in open-mouthed amazement41, then too late the spears went up. Ross placed the point of his looted weapon at the throat of the now quiet man by whom he knelt, and he spoke42 the language he had learned from Ulffa's people.
"You strike—this one dies."
They must have read the determined43 purpose in his eyes, for slowly, reluctantly, the spears went down. Having gained so much of a victory, Ross dared more. "Take—" he motioned to the waiting horses—"take and go!"
For a moment he thought that this time they would meet his challenge, but he continued to hold the dagger above the brown throat of the man who was now moaning faintly. His threat continued to register, for the other man shrugged44 the suit from his arm, left it lying on the ground, and retreated. Holding the nose rope of his horse, he mounted, waved the herder up also, and both of them rode slowly away.
The prisoner was slowly coming around, so Ross only had time to pull on the suit; he had not even fastened the breast studs before those blue eyes opened. A sunburned hand flashed to a belt, but the dagger and ax which had once hung there were now in Ross's possession. He watched the tribesman carefully as he finished dressing45.
"What you do?" The words were in the speech of the forest people, distorted by a new accent.
"You go—" Ross pointed46 to the third horse the others had left behind—"I go—" he indicated the river—"I take these"—he patted the dagger and the ax. The other scowled47.
"Not good...."
Ross laughed, a little hysterically48. "Not good you," he agreed, "good—me!"
To his surprise the tribesman's stiff face relaxed, and the fellow gave a bark of laughter. He sat up, rubbing at his throat, a big grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"You—hunter?" The man pointed northeast to the woodlands fringing the mountains.
Ross shook his head. "Trader, me."
"Trader," the other repeated. Then he tapped one of the wide metal cuffs49 at his wrist. "Trade—this?"
"That. More things."
"Where?"
Ross pointed downstream. "By bitter water—trade there."
The man appeared puzzled. "Why you here?"
"Ride river water, like you ride," he said, pointing to the horse. "Ride on trees—many trees tied together. Trees break apart—I come here."
The conception of a raft voyage apparently50 got across, for the tribesman was nodding. Getting to his feet, he walked across to take up the nose rope of the waiting horse. "You come camp—Foscar. Foscar chief. He like you show trick how you take Tulka, make him sleep—hold his ax, knife."
Ross hesitated. This Tulka seemed friendly now, but would that friendliness51 last? He shook his head. "I go to bitter water. My chief there."
Tulka was scowling52 again. "You speak crooked53 words—your chief there!" He pointed eastward54 with a dramatic stretch of the arm. "Your chief speak Foscar. Say he give much these—" he touched his copper cuffs—"good knives, axes—get you back."
Ross stared at him without understanding. Ashe? Ashe in this Foscar's camp offering a reward for him? But how could that be?
"How you know my chief?"
Tulka laughed, this time derisively55. "You wear shining skin—your chief wear shiny skin. He say find other shiny skin—give many good things to man who bring you back."
Shiny skin! The suit from the alien ship! Was it the ship people? Ross remembered the light on him as he climbed out of the Red village. He must have been sighted by one of the spacemen. But why were they searching for him, alerting the natives in an effort to scoop20 him up? What made Ross Murdock so important that they must have him? He only knew that he was not going to be taken if he could help it, that he had no desire to meet this "chief" who had offered treasure for his capture.
"You will come!" Tulka went into action, his mount flashing forward almost in a running leap at Ross, who stumbled back when horse and rider loomed56 over him. He swung up the ax, but it was a weapon with which he had had no training, too heavy for him.
As his blow met only thin air the shoulder of the mount hit him, and Ross went down, avoiding by less than a finger's breadth the thud of an unshod hoof57 against his skull58. Then the rider landed on him, crushing him flat. A fist connected with his jaw59, and for Ross the sun went out.
He found himself hanging across a support which moved with a rocking gait, whose pounding hurt his head, keeping him half dazed. Ross tried to move, but he realized that his arms were behind his back, fastened wrist to wrist, and a warm weight centered in the small of his spine60 to hold him face down on a horse. He could do nothing except endure the discomfort61 as best he could and hope for a speedy end to the gallop62.
Over his head passed the cackle of speech. He caught short glimpses of another horse matching pace to the one that carried him. Then they swept into a noisy place where the shouting of many men made a din14. The horse stopped and Ross was pulled from its back and dropped to the trodden dust, to lie blinking up dizzily, trying to focus on the scene about him.
They had arrived at the camp of the horsemen, whose hide tents served as a backdrop for the fair long-haired giants and the tall women hovering63 about to view the captive. The circle about him then broke, and men stood aside for a newcomer. Ross had believed that his original captors were physically64 imposing65, but this one was their master. Lying on the ground at the chieftain's feet, Ross felt like a small and helpless child.
Foscar, if Foscar this was, could not yet have entered middle age, and the muscles which moved along his arms and across his shoulders as he leaned over to study Tulka's prize made him bear-strong. Ross glared up at him, that same hot rage which had led to his attack on Tulka now urging him to the only defiance66 he had left—words.
"Look well, Foscar. Free me, and I would do more than look at you," he said in the speech of the woods hunters.
Foscar's blue eyes widened and he lowered a fist which could have swallowed in its grasp both of Ross's hands, linking those great fingers in the stuff of the suit and drawing the captive to his feet, with no sign that his act had required any effort. Even standing, Ross was a good eight inches shorter than the chieftain. Yet he put up his chin and eyed the other squarely, without giving ground.
"So—yet still my hands are tied." He put into that all the taunting67 inflection he could summon. His reception by Tulka had given him one faint clue to the character of these people; they might be brought to acknowledge the worth of one who stood up to them.
"Child—" The fist shifted from its grip on the fabric covering Ross's chest to his shoulder, and now under its compulsion Ross swayed back and forth68.
"Child?" From somewhere Ross raised that short laugh. "Ask Tulka. I be no child, Foscar. Tulka's ax, Tulka's knife—they were in my hand. A horse Tulka had to use to bring me down."
Foscar regarded him intently and then grinned. "Sharp tongue," he commented. "Tulka lost knife—ax? So! Ennar," he called over his shoulder, and one of the men stepped out a pace beyond his fellows.
He was shorter and much younger than his chief, with a boy's rangy slimness and an open, good-looking face, his eyes bright on Foscar with a kind of eager excitement. Like the other tribesmen he was armed with belt dagger and ax, and since he wore two necklaces and both cuff bracelets and upper armlets as did Foscar, Ross thought he must be a relative of the older man.
"Child!" Foscar clapped his hand on Ross's shoulder and then withdrew the hold. "Child!" He indicated Ennar, who reddened. "You take from Ennar ax, knife," Foscar ordered, "as you took from Tulka." He made a sign, and someone cut the thongs69 about Ross's wrists.
Ross rubbed one numbed70 hand against the other, setting his jaw. Foscar had stung his young follower71 with that contemptuous "child," so the boy would be eager to match all his skill against the prisoner. This would not be as easy as his taking Tulka by surprise. But if he refused, Foscar might well order him killed out of hand. He had chosen to be defiant72; he would have to do his best.
"Take—ax, knife—" Foscar stepped back, waving at his men to open out a ring encircling the two young men.
Ross felt a little sick as he watched Ennar's hand go to the haft of the ax. Nothing had been said about Ennar's not using his weapons in defense73, but Ross discovered that there was some sense of sportmanship in the tribesmen, after all. It was Tulka who pushed to the chief's side and said something which made Foscar roar bull-voiced at his youthful champion.
Ennar's hand came away from the ax hilt as if that polished wood were white-hot, and he transferred his discomfiture74 to Ross as the other understood. Ennar had to win now for his own pride's sake, and Ross felt he had to win for his life. They circled warily75, Ross watching his opponent's eyes rather than those half-closed hands held at waist level.
Back at the base he had been matched with Ashe, and before Ashe with the tough-bodied, skilled, and merciless trainers in unarmed combat. He had had beaten into his bruised flesh knowledge of holds and blows intended to save his skin in just such an encounter. But then he had been well-fed, alert, prepared. He had not been knocked silly and then transported for miles slung76 across a horse after days of exposure and hard usage. It remained to be learned—was Ross Murdock as tough as he always thought himself to be? Tough or not, he was in this until he won—or dropped.
Comments from the crowd aroused Ennar to the first definite action. He charged, stooping low in a wrestler's stance, but Ross squatted77 even lower. One hand flicked78 to the churned dust of the ground and snapped up again, sending a cloud of grit79 into the tribesman's face. Then their bodies met with a shock, and Ennar sailed over Ross's shoulder to skid80 along the earth.
Had Ross been fresh, the contest would have ended there and then in his favor. But when he tried to whirl and throw himself on his opponent he was too slow. Ennar was not waiting to be pinned flat, and it was Ross's turn to be caught at a disadvantage.
A hand shot out to catch his leg just above the ankle, and once again Ross obeyed his teaching, falling easily at that pull, to land across his opponent. Ennar, disconcerted by the too-quick success of his attack, was unprepared for this. Ross rolled, trying to escape steel-fingered hands, his own chopping out in edgewise blows, striving to serve Ennar as he had Tulka.
He had to take a lot of punishment, though he managed to elude81 the powerful bear's hug in which he knew the other was laboring82 to engulf83 him, a hold which would speedily crush him into submission84. Clinging to the methods he had been taught, he fought on, only now he knew, with a growing panic, that his best was not good enough. He was too spent to make an end. Unless he had some piece of great good luck, he could only delay his own defeat.
Fingers clawed viciously at his eyes, and Ross did what he had never thought to do in any fight—he snapped wolfishly, his teeth closing on flesh as he brought up his knee and drove it home into the body wriggling85 on his. There was a gasp86 of hot breath in his face as Ross called upon the last few rags of his strength, tearing loose from the other's slackened hold. He scrambled87 to one knee. Ennar was also on his knees, crouching88 like a four-legged beast ready to spring. Ross risked everything on a last gamble. Clasping his hands together, he raised them as high as he could and brought them down on the nape of the other's neck. Ennar sprawled89 forward face-down in the dust where seconds later Ross joined him.
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收听单词发音
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1
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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2
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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3
marooned
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| adj.被围困的；孤立无援的；无法脱身的 | |
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4
bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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foretell
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| v.预言，预告，预示 | |
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6
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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7
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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8
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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9
flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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10
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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11
waded
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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13
wading
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的现在分词 ) | |
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14
din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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15
inertia
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| adj.惰性，惯性，懒惰，迟钝 | |
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16
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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17
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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18
soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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19
scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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scoop
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| n.铲子，舀取，独家新闻；v.汲取，舀取，抢先登出 | |
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21
willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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25
tunics
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| n.（动植物的）膜皮( tunic的名词复数 )；束腰宽松外衣；一套制服的短上衣；（天主教主教等穿的）短祭袍 | |
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26
straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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27
cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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28
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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29
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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30
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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31
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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32
daggers
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| 匕首，短剑( dagger的名词复数 ) | |
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33
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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34
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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35
pebbled
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| 用卵石铺（pebble的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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37
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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38
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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39
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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40
crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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41
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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42
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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43
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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44
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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45
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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46
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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47
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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49
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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50
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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51
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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52
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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53
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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54
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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55
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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56
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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57
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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59
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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63
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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64
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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65
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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67
taunting
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| 嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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69
thongs
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| 的东西 | |
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70
numbed
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| v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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74
discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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79
grit
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| n.沙粒，决心，勇气；v.下定决心，咬紧牙关 | |
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80
skid
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| v.打滑 n.滑向一侧；滑道 ，滑轨 | |
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elude
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| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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82
laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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83
engulf
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| vt.吞没，吞食 | |
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84
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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85
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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86
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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88
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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89
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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