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Again he drew on his mittens, pulled down his ear-flaps, took the rifle, and went out to his station on the river bank. He crouched in the snow, himself unseen, and watched. After a few minutes of inaction, the frost began to bite in, and he rested the rifle across his knees and beat his hands back and forth. Then the sting in his feet became intolerable, and he stepped back from the bank and tramped heavily up and down among the trees. But he did not tramp long at a time. Every several minutes he came to the edge of the bank and peered up and down the trail, as though by sheer will he could materialise the form of a man upon it. The short morning passed, though it had seemed century-long to him, and the trail remained empty.
他又戴上手套，把帽檐拉下来，拿起步枪向他在河岸那儿的蹲伏点走去。他蹲在雪地里隐藏好自己，观察着周围。他一动不动地蹲了几分钟，可霜冻却开始侵袭，于是他把枪横在膝上，反复地搓着手。接着脚上的疼痛让他受不住了，于是他离开河岸往回走，深一脚浅一脚地在林间艰难跋涉。可他步行不了多远就会停下来。每隔几分钟他都要走到岸边，来回地盯着小路看，好像单凭意志就能想出个人来走在小路上似的。早上过去了，虽然很短，可他却觉得像是过了一个世纪那么久，而路上还是空无一人。
It was easier in the afternoon, watching by the bank. The temperature rose, and soon the snow began to fall-dry and fine and crystalline. There was no wind, and it fell straight down, in quiet monotony. He crouched with eyes closed, his head upon his knees, keeping his watch upon the trail with his ears. But no whining of dogs, churning of sleds, nor cries of drivers broke the silence. With twilight he returned to the tent, cut a supply of firewood, ate two biscuits, and crawled into his blankets. He slept restlessly, tossing about and groaning; and at midnight he got up and ate another biscuit.
下午的时候，在河岸上观察要容易些了。气温有所上升，很快天空中飘下了雪--干燥、细小、水晶般晶莹。没有风，雪就那样一直飘落下来，安静而单调。他蜷起身子，眼睛一直闭着，头撑在膝盖上，用耳朵留意着小路上的动静。可没有狗的哀叫、雪橇的吱吱扭扭，也没有赶车夫的叫喊来打破这种沉寂。黄昏时分他回到帐篷，劈了些柴火，又吃了两块点心，之后就钻进了毯子里。他睡得很不踏实，一直翻来覆去地呻吟着，半夜里又起来吃了一块点心。
Each day grew colder. Four biscuits could not keep up the heat of his body, despite the quantities of hot spruce tea he drank, and he increased his allowance, morning and evening, to three biscuits. In the middle of the day he ate nothing, contenting himself with several cups of excessively weak real tea. This programme became routine. In the morning three biscuits, at noon real tea, and at night three biscuits. In between he drank spruce tea for his scurvy. He caught himself making larger biscuits, and after a severe struggle with himself went back to the old size.
天越来越冷。四块点心不足以维持他体内的热量，即便喝了那么多云杉茶也不管用，于是他加了口粮，早晨晚上各吃三块。中午他什么也不吃，只是喝了几杯极其淡而无味的茶。这成了惯例。早上三块点心，中午喝茶，晚上三块点心。期间他会喝云杉茶治疗坏血病。他发现点心做得比以前大了些，经过一番激烈的挣扎，又回到原来的大小。
On the fifth day the trail returned to life. To the south a dark object appeared, and grew larger. Morganson became alert. He worked his rifle, ejecting a loaded cartridge from the chamber, by the same action replacing it with another, and returning the ejected cartridge into the magazine. He lowered the trigger to half-cock, and drew on his mitten to keep the trigger-hand warm. As the dark object came nearer he made it out to be a man, without dogs or sled, travelling light. He grew nervous, cocked the trigger, then put it back to half-cock again. The man developed into an Indian, and Morganson, with a sigh of disappointment, dropped the rifle across his knees. The Indian went on past and disappeared towards Minto behind the out-jutting clump of trees.
到了第五天，小路上恢复了些生气。南面出现了一个黑色的东西，并且越来越大。摩根森警觉起来。他拿起步枪，从枪膛退出装弹的弹盒，以同样的动作换上另外一盒子弹，之后又把退出来的弹盒放回存放弹药的地方。他扣动扳机到半待发的位置，戴上手套暖和着搂扳机的手。黑色的东西走近时，他看出来那是个人，没带狗也没有雪橇，轻装上阵。他紧张起来，扣动扳机准备发射，可又扳回了半待发的位置。那是个印第安人，摩根森失望地叹了口气，又将步枪横在膝上。印第安人沿着去往明托的方向一直走过去，最后消失在那片突出来的树丛后。
But Morganson conceived an idea. He changed his crouching spot to a place where cottonwood limbs projected on either side of him. Into these with his axe he chopped two broad notches. Then in one of the notches he rested the barrel of his rifle and glanced along the sights. He covered the trail thoroughly in that direction. He turned about, rested the rifle in the other notch, and, looking along the sights, swept the trail to the clump of trees behind which it disappeared.
可摩根森想到了一个主意。他换了个蹲伏的地点，两旁棉白杨的树枝纵横。在这些棉白杨中，他用斧子砍了两个大凹口。接着，他把枪筒架在其中一个凹口上，扫视着眼前的景象。从那儿他可以全方位地俯瞰小路。转过身来他又把步枪架到另一个凹口上，沿着小路放眼望去，一直望到那片树丛，树丛后的路就看不见了。
He never descended to the trail. A man travelling the trail could have no knowledge of his lurking presence on the bank above. The snow surface was unbroken. There was no place where his tracks left the main trail.
他从没走下河岸到小路上去过。小路上的行人不会知道他正埋伏在上面的河岸上。雪面完好无损。小路上也没留下他的雪橇经过的痕迹。
As the nights grew longer, his periods of daylight watching of the trail grew shorter. Once a sled went by with jingling bells in the darkness, and with sullen resentment he chewed his biscuits and listened to the sounds. Chance conspired against him. Faithfully he had watched the trail for ten days, suffering from the cold all the prolonged torment of the damned, and nothing had happened. Only an Indian, travelling light, had passed in. Now, in the night, when it was impossible for him to watch, men and dogs and a sled loaded with life, passed out, bound south to the sea and the sun and civilisation.
夜越来越长，他白天观察小路的时间也越来越短。一次有一只雪橇经过，铃铛在夜色中响着，他忿恨地一边嚼着点心，一边听着铃响。机会总是和他作对。他诚心地观察了小路十天，忍受着寒冷和这该死的漫长的折磨，可就是没什么事发生。只有一个两手空空的印第安人路过。而现在，在黑夜里伸手不见五指的时候，会有人、狗，还有载着生的希望的雪橇经过，一路向南，向着大海、阳光，还有文明奔去。
So it was that he conceived of the sled for which he waited. It was loaded with life, his life. His life was fading, fainting, gasping away in the tent in the snow. He was weak from lack of food, and could not travel of himself. But on the sled for which he waited were dogs that would drag him, food that would fan up the flame of his life, money that would furnish sea and sun and civilisation. Sea and sun and civilisation became terms interchangeable with life, his life, and they were loaded there on the sled for which he waited. The idea became an obsession, and he grew to think of himself as the rightful and deprived owner of the sled-load of life.
他设想的雪橇就是那样的；他也一直在等待着。那上面载着的就是生命，是他的生命。在冰天雪地的帐篷里，他的生命在慢慢消逝，他越来越衰弱，奄奄一息。没有食物，他很虚弱，走都走不动了。但在他等待的雪橇上却有可以拉他走的狗，有可以点燃他生之希望的食物，还有可以帮他走向大海、阳光和文明的金钱。大海、阳光和文明成了生命的代名词，他的生命；它们就装载在他等待的那只雪橇上。他陶醉在这想法中不能自拔，越来越觉得自己就是那载着生的希望而来的雪橇的合法主人，只是雪橇被人夺去了而已。
His flour was running short, and he went back to two biscuits in the morning and two biscuits at night. Because of this, his weakness increased and the cold bit in more savagely, and day by day he watched by the dead trail that would not live for him. At last the scurvy entered upon its next stage. The skin was unable longer to cast off the impurity of the blood, and the result was that the body began to swell. His ankles grew puffy, and the ache in them kept him awake long hours at night. Next, the swelling jumped to his knees, and the sum of his pain was more than doubled.
面粉快要用完了，他又像过去一样早晚只吃两块点心。因为这个，他的身体越来越弱，天也越来越冷。死寂的小路就是不肯为他恢复生机，不过他还是一天天地盯着。终于，坏血病恶化到了下一个阶段。皮肤不能排出血液中的杂质，于是身体开始浮肿。他的脚踝也肿胀起来，疼得他夜里久久不能睡去。接着浮肿蔓延到了膝盖，疼痛可不只是翻倍而已。
Then there came a cold snap. The temperature went down and down-forty, fifty, sixty degrees below zero. He had no thermometer, but this he knew by the signs and natural phenomena understood by all men in that country-the crackling of water thrown on the snow, the swift sharpness of the bite of the frost, and the rapidity with which his breath froze and coated the canvas walls and roof of the tent. Vainly he fought the cold and strove to maintain his watch on the bank. In his weak condition he was an easy prey, and the frost sank its teeth deep into him before he fled away to the tent and crouched by the fire. His nose and cheeks were frozen and turned black, and his left thumb had frozen inside the mitten. He concluded that he would escape with the loss of the first joint.
之后，一场寒流突袭。气温一降再降--零下四十度，零下五十度，零下六十度。他没有温度计，可通过一些征兆和自然现象也能知道，那个国家所有的人都懂这些--水泼到雪地上劈啪作响，霜冻来得又快又刺骨，一口气刚呼出来就在帐篷里帆布的四壁和篷顶上结了冰。他和寒冷抗争着，坚持在河岸上观察，可还是一无所获。虚弱的体质使他就像只可以轻易猎取的猎物，还没等他跑回帐篷蜷缩在炉火旁，霜冻就侵袭了他的身体。他的鼻子和脸颊都冻青了，虽然戴着手套，可左手的大拇指还是冻伤了。他觉得就算自己幸存下来，大拇指也残废了。
Then it was, beaten into the tent by the frost, that the trail, with monstrous irony, suddenly teemed with life. Three sleds went by the first day, and two the second. Once, during each day, he fought his way out to the bank only to succumb and retreat, and each of the two times, within half-an-hour after he retreated, a sled went by.
刚被霜冻逼进帐篷，小路上却突然充满了生机，这真是讽刺极了。第一天有三驾雪橇经过，第二天有两驾。有一段时间，他每天都会奋力爬到岸边两次，可总会挫败地退回来，而且每次回来后不到半个小时就会有一驾雪橇经过。
The cold snap broke, and he was able to remain by the bank once more, and the trail died again. For a week he crouched and watched, and never life stirred along it, not a soul passed in or out. He had cut down to one biscuit night and morning, and somehow he did not seem to notice it. Sometimes he marvelled at the way life remained in him. He never would have thought it possible to endure so much.
寒流过去后，他又能待在河岸上了，可小路又沉寂了下来。一个星期里他就蜷在那儿观察，可小路上没有一丝生气，没有一个人影。他把饭量减到了早晚各一块点心，而不知怎的，自己好像都没有注意到似的。有时候他都会惊奇自己怎么还活着。他可没想到能坚持这么久。
When the trail fluttered anew with life it was life with which he could not cope. A detachment of the North-West police went by, a score of them, with many sleds and dogs; and he cowered down on the bank above, and they were unaware of the menace of death that lurked in the form of a dying man beside the trail.
小路上又有了人群的骚动，可这些人却是他对付不了的。西北警局的一个分队路过，有二十几个人，带着不少雪橇和狗；河岸上的他蜷下身子，警察们都没察觉到死亡的威胁，而这威胁就来自潜伏在小路边的那个奄奄一息的人。
His frozen thumb gave him a great deal of trouble. While watching by the bank he got into the habit of taking his mitten off and thrusting the hand inside his shirt so as to rest the thumb in the warmth of his arm-pit. A mail carrier came over the trail, and Morganson let him pass. A mail carrier was an important person, and was sure to be missed immediately.
冻伤的拇指给他添了不少麻烦。在河岸上观察时，他渐渐养成了摘下手套、把手插进汗衫里的习惯，为的是把大拇指放在胳肢窝里取暖。一个邮递员经过小路，摩根森放他过去了。邮递员是重要人物，所以是肯定会被很快放行的。
On the first day after his last flour had gone it snowed. It was always warm when the snow fell, and he sat out the whole eight hours of daylight on the bank, without movement, terribly hungry and terribly patient, for all the world like a monstrous spider waiting for its prey. But the prey did not come, and he hobbled back to the tent through the darkness, drank quarts of spruce tea and hot water, and went to bed.
吃完最后那点面粉的第二天就下雪了。下雪的时候总是很暖和，他一动不动地在岸上坐了八个钟头，整整一白天的时间，虽然饿到了极点，可也极其耐心，就像一只可怕的蜘蛛在等待着自己的猎物。可是猎物没来，他又摸着黑蹒跚回到了帐篷，喝了几夸脱的云杉茶和热水后就睡觉了。
The next morning circumstance eased its grip on him. As he started to come out of the tent he saw a huge bull-moose crossing the swale some four hundred yards away. Morganson felt a surge and bound of the blood in him, and then went unaccountably weak. A nausea overpowered him, and he was compelled to sit down a moment to recover. Then he reached for his rifle and took careful aim. The first shot was a hit: he knew it; but the moose turned and broke for the wooded hillside that came down to the swale. Morganson pumped bullets wildly among the trees and brush at the fleeing animal, until it dawned upon him that he was exhausting the ammunition he needed for the sled-load of life for which he waited.
第二天早上的情形缓解了他的紧张情绪。他正要走出帐篷，就看见大概四百码远的地方有只硕大的公麋正打洼地经过。摩根森感到一阵热血涌动，可接着就莫名其妙地没了力气。他恶心难耐，不得不坐下来休整一会儿。他取来步枪，仔细地瞄准。第一枪就打中了，这他知道，可这只公麋却掉头冲着洼地上面树木繁茂的山坡跑去。摩根森疯狂地朝着这只逃跑的动物射击，子弹在林间穿梭，他最后才意识到弹药将要耗尽了，而这弹药是为他等待的雪橇上救命的东西准备的。
He stopped shooting, and watched. He noted the direction of the animal's flight, and, high up on the hillside in an opening among the trees, saw the trunk of a fallen pine. Continuing the moose's flight in his mind he saw that it must pass the trunk. He resolved on one more shot, and in the empty air above the trunk he aimed and steadied his wavering rifle. The animal sprang into his field of vision, with lifted fore-legs as it took the leap. He pulled the trigger. With the explosion the moose seemed to somersault in the air. It crashed down to earth in the snow beyond and flurried the snow into dust.
他停止了射击，开始观察。他注意到了动物逃跑的方向，并看到山坡高处树林里的空地上有棵倒下的松树。他在脑海里想象着公麋逃跑的路线，认为它一定会经过树干。他决定再打一枪，于是瞄准了树干上方，又稳了稳晃动的步枪。动物跃进了他的视野，跳跃时前腿都腾空了。他扣动了扳机。枪声响起，那只公麋似乎在空中翻了个筋斗。它摔落在雪地上，扬起雪花片片。
Morganson dashed up the hillside-at least he started to dash up. The next he knew he was coming out of a faint and dragging himself to his feet. He went up more slowly, pausing from time to time to breathe and to steady his reeling senses. At last he crawled over the trunk. The moose lay before him. He sat down heavily upon the carcase and laughed. He buried his face in his mittened hands and laughed some more.
摩根森奔向山坡--至少他开始奔了。接下来他知道的就是自己从昏迷中醒了过来，于是吃力地爬起来。他慢慢地起身，不时停下来喘口气，定定神。最后他爬过了树干。公麋就躺在他眼前。他重重地坐到公麋的尸体上，大笑起来。他把脸埋到带着手套的手里，接着又笑了起来。
He shook the hysteria from him. He drew his hunting knife and worked as rapidly as his injured thumb and weakness would permit him. He did not stop to skin the moose, but quartered it with its hide on. It was a Klondike of meat.
他不再歇斯底里。他掏出猎刀，尽管拇指有伤，身体也很虚弱，他还是尽量加快速度。他没有给公麋剥皮，而是带着皮将它分成了四份。这是克朗代克河的一种肉。