天鹅营救

夏洛特·爱德华兹

在我们家乡马里兰州的东海岸,温柔的海水常像一只纤纤玉手轻轻抚摸着海岸,然后蜿蜒着流入如掌心般温暖的一个个小海湾。

加拿大黑雁认识这个地方,每年秋天成千上万只飞往切萨皮克湾过冬的白天鹅们也知道这里。

天鹅骄傲地舒展着长颈,优雅端庄地滑翔着冲向海岸,然后把头深深地扎入海水,用坚硬的喙在水底寻觅食物。傲慢的天鹅与众多加拿大黑雁之间弥漫着一种冷漠,或者说是一种轻蔑。

雪和冻雨每年要光顾这个地方一两次。如果赶上雨雪发生在河流最狭窄的地段,或者当时正值水浅,河面就会结冰。

就在这样一个雪后的早上,在靠近马里兰州牛津镇的地方,我的一个朋友正在一扇巨大的窗户旁摆放早餐餐具。透过窗户,她正好能够俯视特爱温河。越过码头,只见整条河都被大雪镶上了白边。有那么一会儿,她静静地站在窗前,望着眼前这幅一夜风雪所描绘的图景。

突然,她将身体前倾贴着结霜的窗户仔细向外看,并大声叫道:“真的!那儿有一只黑雁。”她跑到书架边取下望远镜。镜筒中,一只加拿大黑雁的身影清晰可辨,它一动不动,紧紧蜷着翅膀,双脚冻在河面冰层里。

这时,灰暗的天空中飞来一队天鹅。它们以自己独有的队形飞行着,优雅,无畏,自在。它们越过西部宽宽的河面,掠过屋顶上高高的天空,平稳地一直向东飞去。

在我朋友的注视下,领头天鹅忽然转向右边,然后所有的天鹅飞成一个白色的圆圈,从高空往下飘落,最后如羽毛轻落到地上一般降落在冰面上。我的朋友不禁站起身,惊讶得用手捂住了嘴巴。原来,天鹅们将那只冻在冰上的黑雁团团围住,她担心那只命在旦夕的黑雁会在这群天鹅的利喙下变得千疮百孔。

然而,令人难以置信的是,天鹅们开始啄起冰层来。长长的脖颈抬起又放下,一次又一次。不知过了多久,被冰河冻住的黑雁周围只剩下一圈冰层。天鹅们随领头天鹅再次腾空而起,像刚才一样飞成一个圆圈,等待观看它们劳动的成果。

黑雁抬起头,使劲抻拽着身体,终于,它挣脱了束缚,站到了冰面上。在空中盘旋的天鹅注视着黑雁慢慢地移动着大大的蹼脚。接着,天鹅们仿佛听到它“我还不能飞”的呼喊,4只自告奋勇的天鹅降落在它身边,用强有力的喙上上下下、里里外外地蹭它的翅膀,拱它的身体,啄掉它羽毛里的冰屑。

慢慢地,那只黑雁试着努力伸展双翅。当它的翅膀最终完全展开后,那4只天鹅回到了自己的队伍中。天鹅们又以完美的队形继续向东飞行,飞往它们神秘的归宿。

在它们身后,那只获救的黑雁以惊人的速度和无比的喜悦飞入天空。它紧跟着天鹅,加倍扇动着双翅,直到赶上它们并成为那条优美线条的最后一个点,就像一个小不点终于得以加入到大孩子们的队伍中。

我的朋友一直注视着它们,直到它们消失在远方树梢的上端。这时,她才发现,原来自己早已泪流满面。

A Story About a Rescue

By Charlotte Edwards

Where we live, on the Eastern shore of Maryland, the gentle waters run in and out like fingers slimming at the tips. They curl into the smaller creeks and coves like tender palms.

TheCanada geese know this place, as do the white swans flying to Chesapeake Bay. In the autumn, by the thousands, they come home for the winter.The swans move toward the shores in a stately glide, their tall heads proud and unafraid. They lower their long necks deep into the water, where their strong beaks dig through the river bottoms for food. And there is, between the arrogant swans and the prolific geese, an indifference, almost a disdain.

Once or twice each year, snow and sleet move into the area. When this happens, if the river is at its narrowest, or the creek shallow, there is a freeze which hardens the water to ice.It was on such a morning, near Oxford, Maryland, that a friend of mine set the breakfast table beside the huge window, which overlooked the Tred Avon River. Across the river, beyond the dock, the snow laced the rim of the shore in white. For a moment she stood quietly, looking at what the night's storm had painted.

Suddenly she leaned forward and peered close to the frosted window. "It really is," she cried out loud, "there is a goose out there." She reached to the bookcase and pulled out a pair of binoculars. Into their sights came the figure of a large Canada goose, very still, its wings folded tight to its sides, its feet frozen to the ice.

Then from the dark skies, she saw a line of swans. They moved in their own singular formation, graceful, intrepid, and free. They crossed from the west of the broad creek high above the house, moving steadily to the east.

As my friend watched, the leader swung to the right, then the white string of birds became a white circle. It floated from the top of the sky downward. At last, as easy as feathers coming to earth, the circle landed on the ice. My friend was on her feet now, with one unbelieving hand against her mouth. As the swans surrounded the frozen goose, she feared what life he still had might be pecked out by those great swan bills.

Instead, amazingly instead, those bills began to work on the ice. The long necks were lifted and curved down, again and again, it went on for a long time. At last, the goose was rimmed by a narrow margin of ice instead of the entire creek. The swans rose again, following the leader, and hovered in that circle, awaiting the results of their labors.

The goose's head lifted. Its body pulled. Then the goose was free and standing on the ice. He was moving his big webbed feet slowly. And the swans stood in the air watching. Then, as if he had cried, "I cannot fly", four of the swans came down around him. Their powerful beaks scraped the goose's wings from top to bottom, scuttled under its wings and rode up its body, chipping off and melting the ice held in the feathers.

Slowly, as if testing, the goose spread its wings as far as they would go. When at last the wings reached their fullest, the four swans took off and joined the hovering group. They resumed their eastward journey, in perfect formation, to their secret destination.

Behind them, rising with incredible speed and joy, the goose moved into the sky. He followed them, flapping double time, until he caught up, until he joined the last end of the elegant line, like a small child at the end of a crack-the-whip of older boys.

My friend watched them until they disappeared over the tips of the farthest trees. Only then did she realize that tears were running down her cheeks and had been for how long she didn't know.

[译自国外英文网]