Chapter 4 The old man and the sea (3)

"I'm not religious," he said. "But I will say the Our Father ten times and the Hail Mary ten times, so that I can catch this fish, and I also promise that if I catch him, I will go to the Virgin of Cobray. This It is my wish." He began to read the prayer mechanically.There were times when he was too tired to recite the prayers, and he read them so fast that the words fell into the mouth. The Hail Mary is easier to say than the Our Father, he thought. "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Praise be to you, daughter, and Jesus, your child. Mary, Holy Mother of God, for us sinners, I pray to God, and to us Death. Amen." Then he added: "Hail Virgin, please pray that this fish may die. Though it is so great."

After reading the prayer, he felt much more comfortable, but the pain was still the same as before, maybe a little more severe, so he leaned his back on the wooden side of the bow and mechanically moved the fingers of his left hand. The sun is hot now, though the breeze is blowing softly. "I'd better rebait the thin line that came out in the stern," he said. "If the fish is going to spend another night here, I'll need some more food, and besides, there isn't much water left in the water bottle. I can't see anything but dolphin here. But if Eat it while it's fresh. It's not bad. I hope a flying fish jumps in the boat tonight. Too bad I don't have a light to lure it. Flying fish tastes great raw, and you don't have to cut it into small pieces. I'm now All the energy has to be conserved. God, I didn't know the fish was so big." "But I'm going to kill him," he said. "No matter how great it is, how grand it is."

But that's not fair, he thought.But I want it to know how much human beings are capable and how much suffering they can endure. "I was telling the boy, I'm an unusual old man," he said. "Now is the time to prove it." He's proven it a thousand times, and that's nothing.Now he was about to prove it again.Every time he starts over, he never thinks about the past when he does it. I hope it sleeps so I can sleep too, dreaming of lions, he thought.Why are there only lions left in the dream now?Don't think about it, old man, he told himself.Right now, rest gently against the side of the wooden boat and don't think about anything.It is busy.The less busy you are, the better.

It was already afternoon, and the boat was still moving slowly and steadily.But at this moment the east wind added resistance to the boat, and the old man drifted slowly with the moderate waves, and the feeling of the fishing line on his back became more comfortable and gentle. Once in the afternoon the line was up again.But the fish just kept swimming on a slightly higher level.The sun was on the old man's left arm and shoulder and back.So he knew the fish had turned to the northeast. Now that he had seen the fish once, he could imagine it swimming in the water, with its wing-like pectoral fins spread wide and its large, erect tail cutting through the dark water.Wondered how much he could see in that deep water, the old man thought.His eyes were really big, a horse's eyes were much smaller, but he could see in the dark.I used to be able to see clearly in the dark.Not in a dark place.But it can see things like a cat.

The sunlight and the constant movement of his fingers had now fully healed his cramped left hand and he set about giving it a little more strain and shrugging the muscles of his back to move the line a little and put the sore spot in another place. . "If you are not tired, Fish," he said aloud, "you are incredible." He was very tired now, and he knew night was coming, so he tried to think of other things.He thought of the two major leagues in baseball, what he called the Gran Ligas in Spanish, and he knew that the Yankees in New York City were playing the Tigers in Detroit.

It's the second day of the league, but I don't know how the game will turn out.But I have to have faith, I have to be worthy of the great DiMaggio, who can do everything perfectly even with a bone spur in his heel and pain.What is a bone spur?he asked himself.In Spanish it is called unespuela-dehueso.We don't have that.Does it hurt as badly as when a gamecock's splinter digs into a man's heel?I don't think I can bear the pain, nor can I fight like a fighting cock after being pecked blind in one eye or both.Man is nothing compared with the great birds and beasts.I'd rather be that animal in the dark, deep water.

"Unless a shark comes," he said aloud. "If a shark comes, may God have mercy on him and me." Do you think the great DiMaggio can hold a fish as long as I have this one?he thinks.I believe he can, and longer, because he is young and strong.Plus his father was a fisherman.But wouldn't the bone spur cause him too much pain? "I can't tell," he said aloud. "I've never had a bone spur." As the sun went down, and to strengthen his confidence, he recalled that time in a hotel in Casablanca, when he had been hand-to-hand with a big black man from Cienfuegos, the strongest man on the pier.All day and all night they rested their crutches on a chalk line on the table, with their arms straight up and their hands clasped.Both sides try to press the other's hand hard down on the table.A lot of people were betting who would win, and people were coming and going under the kerosene lamp indoors. He looked at the black man's arms and hands, and the black man's face.After the first eight hours, they switched umpires every four hours so the umpires took turns sleeping.He and the Negro were bleeding under the nails of their hands, and they looked into each other's eyes, at hands and arms, and the bettors came and went in and out of the room, and sat on the high chairs against the wall to watch.The walls were painted bright blue and were wooden siding, and several lamps cast their shadows on the walls.The shadow of the black man is very large, and as the breeze blows the hanging lamp, this shadow also moves on the wall.

All night long the odds went back and forth and rum was served to the black person and cigarettes were lit for him.The black person had had the rum and fought like hell and knocked the old man's hand (he was not an old man then but Santiago "Champion") nearly three inches off once.But the old man pulled his hand back and restored the evenly matched situation.He was sure he could beat this black person, and he was a fine, great athlete.At dawn, the bettors demanded to call it a draw, but the referee shook his head and disagreed, but the old man exerted all his strength and forced the black hand down little by little until it pressed against the table.The game started on a Sunday morning and didn't end until Monday morning.A lot of the bettors asked for a draw, because they had to go to work on the docks, loading sacks of sugar on board, or at the Havana Coal Company.Otherwise, everyone will demand the game to the end.But he finished it anyway, and before anyone got to work.

Everyone called him "The Champion" for a while after that, and there was another race the following spring.It was a small bet, however, and he won it easily, for he had broken the confidence of the Negro from Cienfuegos in the first match.Since then, he has competed several times, and will not compete in the future.He thought he could beat anyone if he set his mind to it, and he also thought it would be bad for his right hand which he was going to use for fishing.He has attempted a few practice sessions with his left hand.But his left hand had always betrayed him, would not do what he told him to do, he didn't trust it.

The sun will dry his hands well now, he thought.It doesn't cramp anymore, unless it's too cold at night.I don't know what will happen tonight. A plane flew overhead, on its way to Miami, and he watched its shadow startle schools of flying fish. "With so many flying fish there should be dolphin here," he said, leaning back with the line to see if he could bring the fish in a little.But no, the line was still taut and was shaking with drops of water and was about to break.The boat moved slowly forward, and he watched the plane until it was out of sight. It must be weird to be in an airplane, he thought.I wonder what the sea looks like looking down from such a high place?If they hadn't been flying too high, they would have seen the fish clearly.I wanted to fly very slow very slow at two hundred fathoms and watch the fish from the air.On the turtle boat I was at the beams, and even from that height I could see quite a bit.Looking down from there, the dolphins are greener and you can see their stripes and purple spots and you can see them swimming as a whole school.How is it that all fish that swim fast in deep, dark currents have purple backs and usually purple stripes or spots?The dolphins of course look green in the water because they are really golden yellow.But when they are hungry and want to eat, purple stripes will appear on the sides of their bodies, like a marlin.Did anger, or swimming too fast, make the stripes show?

Just before dark the old man and the boat passed a great mass of sargassum that heaved in the light sea as if the ocean were making love to something under a yellow blanket when his thin line Got bitten by a dolphin.He saw it first when it jumped out of the water, really gold in the last rays of sunlight, bending in the air and flapping wildly.He jumped out of the water again and again in a panic, as if doing acrobatics, and he, moving slowly, went back to the stern and squatted down, holding the big line with his right hand and arm, and pulling the dolphin out with his left hand. Pull back, stepping on each piece of fishing line with your bare left foot.When the purple spotted fish was pulled over to the stern, the old man leaned out and carried him over to the stern when he was hopping desperately from side to side.Its jaws were working convulsively in quick bites against the hook and it beat the bottom of the skiff with its long flat body, tail and head until he clubbed its golden gleam. Liang's head trembled for a moment, then stopped moving. The old man took the hook out of the fish's mouth and rebaited a sardine and cast it overboard.Then he moved slowly back to the bow.He washed his left hand and dried it on his trouser leg.Then he moved the big line from his right hand to his left and washed his right hand in the sea watching the sun go down and the big line slanting down into the water. "The fish is the same, it hasn't changed a bit," he said.But he watched how the water lapped against his hand, and noticed that the boat was moving noticeably slower. "I'll lash these two oars across the stern, and that will slow her down in the night," he said. "It can stay up late, and so can I." Better to wait a while before disemboweling the dolphin to keep the blood in the flesh, he thought.I can put it off later, but now I tie up the oars and drag in the water to increase the resistance.It is better to keep the fish quiet for now, and to disturb it too much separately at sunset.Sunset is a difficult time for all fish. He held his hands up to dry and then took hold of the line and relaxed as much as he could and let himself be pulled forward against the wooden side so that the boat was taking as much pull as he was taking or more . I'm gradually learning how to do it, he thought.Anyway, at least in this respect.Besides, don't forget that he hasn't eaten since he took the bait, and he's a big man and needs a lot of food.I have eaten this whole tuna.Tomorrow I will eat the dolphin.He called it the "golden fish".Maybe I should eat a little while I open it up.It's tougher than that tuna.But then again, nothing is easy. "What do you think, fish?" he asked. "I feel fine, my left hand is better, and I have enough food for the night and the day. Pull the boat, fish." He didn't really feel better, because the sling was hurting almost beyond the limit of pain in his back, entering a state of numbness that worried him.Worse things have happened to me, though, he thought.I only cut a little in one hand, and the cramp in the other hand has healed.Both my legs work fine.Besides, I have an advantage over him in food right now. It was dark now, for in September it gets dark as soon as the sun goes down.He rested as much as he could, leaning his back on the worn planks of the bow.The first stars came out, and he didn't know the name of the one at Orion's left foot, but seeing it, he knew that the others would be coming out soon, and he had these distant friends for company. "This fish is my friend too," he said aloud. "I've never seen or heard of a fish like that. I'll have to kill it though. I'm glad we don't have to kill the stars." Imagine how bad it would be if one had to kill the moon every day, he thought.The moon will run away.But think about it, what if one had to kill the sun every day?We are born lucky after all, he thought. So he felt sorry for the great fish that had nothing to eat, but his resolve to kill him was by no means lessened by his sorrow.How many people could it feed, he thought.But do they deserve it?Not worthy, of course not.Judging by its manners and its high dignity, no one deserves to eat it. I don't understand these things, he thought.But it's a good thing we don't have to kill the sun or the moon or the stars.Life at sea, killing our own real brothers, is enough for us. Now, he thought, it's time for me to think about the dragging obstacle in the water.This thing has its dangers, but it also has its benefits.If the fish pulls hard and the dragging oars stay where they are and the boat isn't as light as it was, I could take a long line with the fish and let him go.Keeping the boat light prolongs the pain for both of us, but it is my safety because the fish can swim fast, a talent that has never been used so far.Whatever happens I must gut this dolphin before it breaks and take a little bit of strength.Now I'm going to rest another hour till I feel the fish stabilized before I go back to the stern to do this and decide what to do.During this time, I can see how it behaves and whether there are any changes.It was a good plan to leave those oars there; but the time has come to play it safe.The fish is still great.I have seen the hook hang in the corner of his mouth and he keeps his mouth shut tight.The torment of the hook was nothing.The torture of hunger, coupled with having to deal with opponents it does not understand, is the biggest trouble.Give it a rest, old man, and let it do its thing until it's your turn. He thought he had rested for two hours.The moon didn't come up until very late, and he couldn't tell the time.In fact, he didn't have a good rest, it can only be said that he rested for a while.The pull of the fish was still on his shoulders but he put his left hand on the gunwale of the bow and put more and more of the burden of resisting the pull on the skiff itself. How much easier it would be if he could make a line, he thought.But the slightest jerk of the fish would snap the line.I had to cushion the pull of the line with my body and be ready to cast it with both hands. "But you haven't slept, old man," he said aloud. "It's been half a day and a night and it's another day and you haven't slept. You have to figure out a way to get some sleep when the fish are quiet and stable. If you don't sleep you'll be confused stand up." I'm sane enough, he thought.Too sober.I am asber as the stars, they are my brothers.But I still have to sleep.They sleep, and the moon and the sun sleep, and even the ocean sometimes, on certain days when there is no surf and no waves. But don't forget to sleep, he thought.Force yourself to sleep and think of some easy and sure way of setting that line.Now go back to the stern and deal with the dolphin.If you must sleep, it's too dangerous to be dragged in the water with your oars tied up. I can do without sleep, he told himself.But it's too dangerous.He climbed back to the stern on his hands and knees, careful not to startle the fish suddenly.It might be half asleep, he thought.But I don't want it to rest.It must be dragged on until it dies. Back in the stern he turned so that his left hand held the line that was tight around his shoulder and with his right he drew the knife from its sheath.The stars were bright now and he saw the dolphin clearly and put the blade of his knife in its head and pulled him out from under the stern.He put one foot on the fish and made a quick slit from the vent up to the tip of the lower jaw.Then he put down the knife, and with his right hand he took out the guts, cleaned them out, and pulled off the gills.He felt the maw heavy and slippery in his hand and he slit it open.Inside were two small flying fish.They were still fresh and firm and he lowered them side by side and dropped the guts and gills over the stern into the water.They trail a trail of phosphorescence in the water as they sink.The dolphin was cold and looked leper-white in the starlight now and the old man put his right foot on the head and skinned one side of the fish.He then flips the fish over, skins the other side, and cuts off the flesh on both sides from head to tail. He tossed the fishbone overboard quietly and watched to see if it swirled in the water.But only see the phosphorescence as it slowly sinks.Then he turned and put the two flying fish between the fillets and put the knife in the sheath and moved slowly back to the bow.He was bent over from the weight of the line and he held the meat in his right hand. Back in the bow he spread the two fillets out on the planking with the flying fish beside them.Then he shifted the line from his shoulders and took it again with his left hand, resting on the side of the boat.Then he leaned against the side of the boat and washed the flying fish in the water, noting the speed of the water against his hands.His hands were phosphorescent from skinning the fish, and he watched how the current hit them.The current was not so strong, and as he rubbed the side of his hand against the planks of the skiff, bits of phosphorous floated away, drifting slowly toward the stern. "He's getting tired, or resting," said the old man. "Now I'll eat all the dolphin and rest and sleep." Under the stars, in the growing cold night, he ate half a fillet of fish and a flying fish that had been gutted and headed off. "The dolphin tastes so good cooked," he said. "It's terrible to eat raw. I will never take a boat again without salt or lime." If I had brains, I'd keep a bottle of seawater on the bow all day, and when it dries there'll be salt, he thought.But then again, I didn't catch this dolphin until near sunset.But after all, it was the lack of preparation.However, I chewed it whole and ate it without nausea. The eastern sky was filled with more and more clouds, and the stars he knew were disappearing one by one.For the moment it seemed that he was sailing into a great canyon of clouds, and the wind had died down. "There will be bad weather for three or four days," he said. "But it doesn't matter tonight and tomorrow. Now make arrangements, old man, and sleep him a while, while the fish is quiet and stable." He held the line firmly in his right hand and put his thigh against his right hand and put his weight on the planks of the bow.Then he moved the line down a little over his shoulders and put his left hand on the line. My right hand can hold it as long as the line is held tight, he thought.If it loosened and slipped out while I was asleep, my left hand would wake me up.This is very heavy on the right hand.But it is used to suffering.Even if I could sleep for twenty minutes or half an hour, that would be fine.He put his whole body forward on the line and put all his weight on his right hand and he fell asleep. Instead of lions, he dreamed of a large school of dolphins, stretching eight to ten miles long, and it was their mating season, when they would jump high into the air and then fall back into the water where they jumped. in the formed vortex. Then he dreamed that he was in the village, lying on his bed, and the north wind was blowing, and he was very cold, and his right arm was numb because his head was resting on it instead of a pillow. After this he dreamed of the long yellow beach, and saw the first lion come on the beach in the evening, followed by others, and he rested his chin on the plank of the bow, and the boat dropped At anchor there, with the evening wind blowing out to sea, he took great pleasure in waiting to see if any more Lions would come. The moon had risen for a long time but all he could do was sleep and the fish dragged on steadily and the boat went into the canyon of clouds. His right fist slammed into his face and the line blazed out of his right hand and he woke with a start.He could not feel his left hand and he held the line as hard as he could with his right but it kept coming out.Finally his left hand took hold of the line and he leaned back and pulled the line back and the line was hot on his back and on his left hand which was taking all the strain and hurting badly.He looked back at the coils of line and they were letting out line slickly.Just at that moment the fish jumped up and the sea broke wide open and he fell heavily.Then it jumped again and again and the boat was going fast and the line was still flying out and the old man was pulling it so tight that it was breaking and he was pulling it so tight again and again. degree of interruption.He was drawn tight against the bow with his face against the cut dolphin and he could not move.What we've been waiting for has happened, he thought.Let's deal with it. Let it pay for the trolling line, he thought.Let it pay for it. He could not see the jumping of the fish but heard only the crackling of the sea and the heavy splash of the water as the fish fell.His hands were hurting from the fast going out line but he always knew it was going to happen and he tried to keep the line in the calloused spot and keep it from slipping into his palm or his fingers superior. If the boy were here he would wet the coils with water, he thought.yes.If the child is here.If the child is here. The line went out and went and went but slower and slower now and he was making the fish pay for every inch he took.Now he raised his head from the planks of the boat and was no longer on the piece of fish crushed by his cheek.Then he knelt, and slowly rose to his feet.He was casting his line but getting slower and slower.He moved slowly until he could touch the coils of line that he could not see with his feet.There were more lines and the fish had to drag all these new, high friction lines through the water now. Yes, he thought.By this time he had jumped more than a dozen times, filling those sacs along his back with air, so he couldn't sink to the deep water, and died there, so I couldn't get him up.It'll be in circles before long, and I'll have to deal with it then.Don't know how it jumped up so suddenly.Did hunger make it desperate, or was it frightened by something at night?Maybe it suddenly felt scared.But he was such a composed, strong fish that he seemed so fearless and confident.This is very strange. "You'd better be unafraid and confident yourself, old man," he said. "You haul him again and you can't get the line back. But he's going to spin in a minute." The old man held him with his left hand and shoulders now and stooped down and scooped up water with his right hand to get the crushed dolphin flesh off his face.He was afraid that the meat would make him sick and make him vomit and lose his strength.When his face was clean he washed his right hand in the water over the side of the boat and let it soak in the salt water as he watched the first rays of light before sunrise.It was going almost due east, he thought.This shows that it is tired and goes with the flow.It will have to spin in no time.That's when we really got down to it.When he felt he had kept his right hand in the water long enough, he took it out of the water and looked at it. "It's not bad," he said. "Pain is nothing to a man." He held the line carefully so that it would not dig into any of the fresh cuts and shifted to the other side of the skiff so he could put his left hand in the sea. "You're not doing a bad job at all, you useless thing," he said to his left hand. "But there was a time when I had no help from you." Why wasn't I born with two good hands?he thinks.Perhaps it was my own fault for not training the hand properly.But God knows it has had enough learning opportunities.He did well tonight, however, with only one cramp.If he cramps again let the line snap him. He thought of this and realized that his head was not working very well and he remembered that he should have some more dolphin.But I can't, he said to himself.It is better to be dizzy than to lose strength with nausea.I also know I can't hold it in my stomach because my face was on it.I'm going to leave it on just in case until it goes rancid.But it's too late to rely on nutrition to build strength.You are stupid, he said to himself.Eat that other flying fish. There it was, washed and ready to eat and he picked it up with his left hand and ate it, chewing the bones and eating the whole thing from head to tail. It is more nutritious than almost any fish, he thought.At least it gives me the kind of strength I need.I've done everything I can now, he thought.Let the fish spin, let's fight. It was the third time the sun had risen since he had been out at sea and the fish were spinning. He could not see the fish spinning yet from the slope of the line.It's too early.He just felt the pull on the line lessen slightly and he began to pull in gently with his right hand.The line was taut as it always was but when it was about to break it was starting to catch.He took the line off his shoulders and his head and worked the line smoothly and gently with his hands.He pulled the handle with both hands, trying to pull with all the strength of his body and legs.He pulled by the handles, turning his old legs and shoulders. "It's a big circle," he said. "It's spinning at last." Then the line could not be reined in and he held on tightly, seeing water droplets bursting out of the line in the sunlight.Then the line started to slip out and the old man knelt down and the boss let it drift back into the dark water reluctantly. "It's going around the other side of the circle," he said.I must strain like hell, he thought.When it is tightened, the circle it makes will become smaller every time.Maybe I'll see it in an hour.I must stabilize it now, and I must kill it later. But the fish just circled slowly and after two hours the old man was drenched with sweat and worn out to the bone.But the circle was much smaller now and from the slope of the line he could see that the fish was rising as it swam. The old man saw black spots in front of his eyes, and it had been an hour since the salt in the sweat had soaked his eyes, soaked the wounds above the eyes and on his forehead.He is not afraid of those dark ideas.He was pulling so nervously that black spots were normal.But twice he had felt dizzy, and that worried him. "I couldn't let myself break down and die at the hands of a fish," he said. "Now that I've made it come so beautifully, God help me to get through it. I'm going to say a hundred Our Fathers and a hundred Hail Marys. But not yet." Let’s say that’s already been read, he thought.I'll read it later. Just then he felt a sudden bump and tug on the line that he was holding in both hands.The coming is very fierce, there is a strong feeling, and it is very heavy. It's striking the wire conductors with its long beak, he thought.This is unavoidable.It cannot do otherwise.While that might make him jump up, I'd rather he keep spinning for now.It has to jump out of the water to get air.But with each jump the wound the hook had made would open a little wider and it might throw the hook off. "Don't jump, fish," he said. "Stop jumping." The fish struck the wire guide several more times and each time he shook his head the old man let out some line. I must keep its pain in one place, he thought.My pain doesn't matter.I can control.But its pain can drive it mad. After a while, the fish stopped hitting the wire and turned slowly again.The old man was keeping in the line now.But he felt dizzy again.He scooped up some sea water with his left hand and sprinkled it on his head.Then he sprinkled some more and rubbed it on his neck. "I don't have cramps," he said. "It'll be watering right away, and I can handle it. You'll have to. Don't even mention it." He knelt against the bow and carried the line over his back for the moment.I'm going to rest now while he's circling outwards, and get up and deal with him when he's back, so he made up his mind. He would have liked to rest in the bow and let the fish make its own circles without getting any line.But when the line had loosened a little to show that the fish had turned and was swimming back toward the skiff, the old man stood up and began the alternating pull and pull that he did all the way in getting his line in. I've never been so tired, he thought, and now the trade winds are blowing.But it's just right on it to get the fish back.How much I need this wind. "I'm going to take a break when he does his next out circle," he said. "I feel better. Two or three more turns and I can catch him." His straw hat was pushed back on the back of his head and he felt the fish turn and with the pull of the line he was on the bow shares sat down. You go about your business now, fish, he thought.I'll deal with you again when you turn around.The waves are much bigger.But it was a sunny breeze, and he had to rely on it to get back. "I'll just sail southwest," he said. "A man will never get lost at sea, let alone this is a long island." It was on the third turn of the fish that he saw it for the first time. What he saw first was a dark shadow that took so long to pass under the boat that he could hardly believe it was so long. "No," he said. "How can it be so big?" But he was so big and at the end of the circle he came out of the water only thirty yards away and the old man saw his tail come out of the water.The tail was taller than the blade of a scythe, it was a very pale light purple, standing on the surface of the deep blue sea.It was leaning back and the old man could see his huge body and the purple stripes all over it as the fish swam below the surface.Its dorsal fin was drooping downward, and its huge pectoral fins were spread wide. This time when the fish came back from the circle the old man saw his eyes and the two gray milkfish swimming around him.They sometimes cling to it.Sometimes swam away quickly.Sometimes it swims freely in its shadow.Each was more than three feet long, and they swam violently, like eels, as they swam fast. The old man was sweating now, but not only because of the sun, but also for other reasons.Each time the fish turned back calmly and calmly he got back a little line so that he was sure that in two more turns he would have a chance of getting the harpoon in. But I must bring it very close, very close, very close, he thought.I mustn't poke its head.I should plunge into its heart. "Be calm and strong, old man," he said. In another circle the fish's back came out but he was still a little too far from the skiff.After another round it was still too far but he was higher above the water and the old man was sure that some more line gained would bring him alongside the boat. He had rigged his harpoon long ago and its coil of thin rope was in a round basket and the end was made fast to the bitt in the bow. Then the fish was coming back from a circle, calm and beautiful, only his big tail was moving.The old man pulled it closer with all his strength.For a moment the fish leaned a little.Then it straightened itself up and circled again. "I pulled it," said the old man. "I pulled it just now." He was dizzy again but he held the big fish with all his might.I pulled it, he thought.Maybe this time I can pull it over.Pull, hand, he thought.Stand still, legs.Get through it for me, head.Go through it for me.You never fainted.This time I'm going to pull it over. 但是，等他把浑身的力气都使出来，趁鱼还没来到船边，还很远时就动手，使出全力拉着，那鱼却侧过一半身子，然后竖直了身子游开去。 "鱼啊，"老人说。"鱼，你反正是死定了。难道你非得把我也害死吗？" 照这样下去是会一事无成的，他想。他嘴里干得说不出话来，但是此刻他不能伸手去拿水来喝。我这一回必须把它拉到船边来，他想。它再多兜几圈，我就不行了。不，你是行的，他对自己说。你永远行的。在兜下一圈时，他差一点把它拉了过来。可是这鱼又竖直了身子，慢慢地游走了。 你要把我害死啦，鱼啊，老人想。不过你有权利这样做。我从没见过比你更庞大、更美丽、更沉着或更崇高的东西，老弟。来，把我害死吧。我不在乎谁害死谁。 你现在头脑糊涂起来啦，他想。你必须保持头脑清醒。保持头脑清醒，要象个男子汉，懂得怎样忍受痛苦。或者象一条鱼那样，他想。 "清醒过来吧，头，"他用自己也简直听不见的声音说。"清醒过来吧。" 鱼又兜了两圈，还是老样子。 我弄不懂，老人想。每一回他都觉得自己快要垮了。我弄不懂。但我还要试一下。 他又试了一下，等他把鱼拉得转过来时，他感到自己要垮了。那鱼竖直了身子，又慢慢地游开去，大尾巴在海面上摇摆着。 我还要试一下，老人对自己许愿，尽管他的双手这时已经软弱无力，眼睛也不好使，只看得见间歇的一起。 他又试了一下，又是同样情形。原来如此，他想，还没动手就感到要垮下来了，我还要再试一下。 他忍住了一切痛楚，拿出剩余的力气和丧失已久的自傲，用来对付这鱼的痛苦挣扎，于是它游到了他的身边，在他身边斯文地游着，它的嘴几乎碰着了小船的船壳板，它开始在船边游过去，身子又长，又高，又宽，银色底上有着紫色条纹，在水里看来长得无穷无尽。 老人放下钓索，一脚踩住了，把鱼叉举得尽可能地高，使出全身的力气，加上他刚才鼓起的力气，把它朝下直扎进鱼身的一边，就在大胸鳍后面一点儿的地方，这胸鳍高高地竖立着，高齐老人的胸膛。他感到那铁叉扎了进去，就把身子倚在上面，把它扎得更深一点，再用全身的重量把它压下去。 于是那鱼闹腾起来，尽管死到临头了，它仍从水中高高跳起，把它那惊人的长度和宽度，它的力量和美，全都暴露无遗。它仿佛悬在空中，就在小船中老人的头顶上空。然后，它砰的一声掉在水里，浪花溅了老人一身，溅了一船。 老人感到头晕，恶心，看不大清楚东西。然而他放松了鱼叉上的绳子，让它从他划破了皮的双手之间慢慢地溜出去，等他的眼睛好使了，他看见那鱼仰天躺着，银色的肚皮朝上。鱼叉的柄从鱼的肩部斜截出来，海水被它心脏里流出的鲜血染红了。起先，这摊血黑魆魆的，如同这一英里多深的蓝色海水中的一块礁石。然后它象云彩般扩散开来。那鱼是银色的，一动不动地随着波浪浮动着。 老人用他偶尔着得清的眼睛仔细望着。接着他把鱼叉上的绳子在船头的系缆柱上绕了两圈，然后把脑袋搁在双手上。 "让我的头脑保持清醒吧，"他靠在船头的木板上说。"我是个疲乏的老头儿。可是我杀死了这条鱼，它是我的兄弟，现在我得去干辛苦的活儿了。" 现在我得准备好套索和绳子，把它绑在船边，他想。即使我这里有两个人，把船装满了水来把它拉上船，然后把水舀掉，这条小船也绝对容不下它。我得做好一切准备，然后把拖过来，好好绑住，竖起桅杆，张起帆驶回去。 他动手把鱼拖到船边，这样可以用一根绳子穿进它的鳃，从嘴里拉出来，把它的脑袋紧绑在船头边。我想看看它，他想，碰碰它，摸摸它。它是我的财产，他想。然而我想摸摸它倒不是为了这个。我以为刚才已经碰到了它的心脏，他想。那是在我第二次握着鱼叉的柄扎进去的时候。现在得把它拖过来，牢牢绑住，用一根套索拴住它的尾巴，另一根拴住它的腰部，把它绑牢在这小船上。 "动手干活吧，老头儿，"他说。他喝了很少的一口水。 "战斗既然结束了，就有好多辛苦的活儿要干呢。" 他抬头望望天空，然后望望船外的鱼。他仔细望望太阳。晌午才过了没多少时候，他想。而贸易风刮起来了。这些钓索现在都用不着了。回家以后，那孩子和我要把它们捻接起来。 "过来吧，鱼，"他说。可是这鱼不过来。它反而躺在海面上翻滚着，老人只得把小船驶到它的身边。