笔趣阁

笔趣阁>老人与海主要内容 > 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.WedonothavetheCanitbeaspainfulasthespurofafightingcockinonesheel?IdonotthinkIcouldendurethatorthelossoftheeyeandofbotheyesandcontinuetofightasthefightingcocksdo.Manisnotmuchbesidethegreatbirdsandbeasts.StillIwouldratherbethatbeastdownthereinthedarknessofthesea.

“Unlesssharkscome,”hesaidaloud.“Ifsharkscome,Godpityhimandme.”

DoyoubelievethegreatDiMaggiowouldstaywithafishaslongasIwillstaywiththisone?Hethought.Iamsurehewouldandmoresinceheisyoungandstrong.Alsohisfatherwasafisherman.Butwouldthebonespurhurthimtoomuch?

“Idonotknow,”hesaidaloud.“Ineverhadabonespur.”

Asthesunsetheremembered,togivehimselfmoreconfidence,thetimeinthetavernatCasablancawhenhehadplayedthehandgamewiththegreatnegrofromCienfuegoswhowasthestrongestmanonthedocks.Theyhadgoneonedayandonenightwiththeirelbowsonachalklineonthetableandtheirforearmsstraightupandtheirhandsgrippedtight.Eachonewastryingtoforcetheothershanddownontothetable.Therewasmuchbettingandpeoplewentinandoutoftheroomunderthekerosenelightsandhehadlookedatthearmandhandofthenegroandatthenegrosface.Theychangedtherefereeseveryfourhoursafterthefirsteightsothattherefereescouldsleep.Bloodcameoutfromunderthefingernailsofbothhisandthenegroshandsandtheylookedeachotherintheeyeandattheirhandsandforearmsandthebettorswentinandoutoftheroomandsatonhighchairsagainstthewallandwatched.ThewallswerepaintedbrightblueandwereofwoodandthelampsthrewtheirshadowsagainsttheThenegrosshadowwashugeanditmovedonthewallasthebreezemovedthelamps.

TheoddswouldchangebackandforthallnightandtheyfedthenegrorumandlightedcigarettesforhiThentheNegro,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.ThedolphinlookgreenerfromthereandyoucanseetheirstripesandtheirpurplespotsandyoucanseealloftheschoolastheyswiWhyisitthatallthefast-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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