Chapter 3 Chapter Three Primitive Forest

Mole has long wanted to know Guan.Hearing everyone talk about Badger, Badger seems to be an important person. Although he seldom shows his face, everyone around him will feel his invisible influence.But every time the Mole mentioned this wish to the Rat, he always rejected it. "No problem," the Rat would say, "the Badger will show his face one day...he shows his face a lot...and I'll introduce you then. He's the best of the good guys! But don't show yourself when you see him." Looking for him, but just bumping into him." "Can't you invite him up here--to supper or something?" said the Mole.

"He won't come," replied the Rat curtly. "The Badger hates company, invitations, supper, and the like." "Shall we go and visit him then?" proposed the Mole. "Oh, I'm sure he doesn't like being called on him at all," said the Rat, much astonished. "He's too shy, and it's sure to offend him. Though I know him so well, I don't even know him." Dare to visit his house. Besides, we have no way to visit him. It is impossible to consider, because he lives deep in the primeval forest." "Even if he lived there," said the Mole, "you know it's you who told me there's nothing to fear in this primeval forest."

"Oh, I know, I know, it's nothing to be afraid of," replied the Rat vaguely. "But I don't think we can go now. Not yet. It's a long way, and anyway, he won't be home at this time of year, but he will come one day if you just wait quietly." The Mole could only be content with this, but the Badger never came. Every day was fun, until the summer was long gone, and it was freezing cold and muddy outside, and they had to stay indoors most of the time, with the swollen river rushing outside their window, too fast for them to row. Only then did his thoughts return to the lonely gray badger that lived in a hole deep in the primeval forest.

In winter the Rat goes to bed early and gets up late, and sleeps a lot.In his short day, he sometimes scribbles poetry, or does a little housework; of course, guests often drop by to chat, so they tell many stories and exchange a lot about the past summer and its various affairs. view. What a rich chapter when one looks back on all these past events!And so many colorful pictures!The scenery on the river bank is constantly changing.Turn over one landscape painting after another.The purple coptises bloomed early, shaking their beautiful clusters in dense clusters by the mirror-like banks of the river, while in the water their own faces smiled back at them.Then came the brooding tender willow grass, like a pink cloud at sunset.Purple and white daisies spread hand in hand, and took their seats on the bank.Finally one morning, the shy and belated Qiangwei appeared on the stage.It was as if the strings announced, with the solemn chords of the gavotte, that June had come at last.There is a companion waiting in the midst of the whole; he is the shepherd boy whom the fairies woo, and the knight whom the ladies wait at the window, who will kiss the prince who wakes the sleeping Summer and loves him.But when the breezy, sweet-smelling spirea in the amber bodice gracefully takes his place among the group, the show can begin.

What a play it had been!The drowsy animals crouched in their dens as soon as the storm knocked at their door, thinking of those fine mornings, when the white mist still hung over the water an hour before sunrise; followed by an early morning swim , the bouncing of the river, the changing colors of the earth, air, and water, when suddenly the sun was with them again, the gray turned to gold, and the colors were born again, leaping to the earth.They thought of the languid siesta in the depths of the green bushes on a hot noon, the golden rays and spots of the sun coming through the leaves, the boating and swimming in the afternoon, the walks on the dusty paths and the golden wheat fields; It was a cool evening when so many private conversations were made, so many friendships were deepened, and so many adventures were planned for the morrow.

The animals chattered round the fire during those short winter days, but the Mole had plenty of spare time, so one afternoon when the Rat dozed in his arm-chair by the fire, When rhyming again, the Mole made up his mind to explore the primeval forest alone, and maybe he could get to know Mr. Badger. It was a cold, quiet afternoon outside, with an iron gray sky overhead, when he crept out of the warm living room into the open air.The fields around him were bare, the trees were bare of leaves, and it seemed to him that he had never seen so far, so lovingly, into the interior of things as he had on this winter day, when nature was deep into the annual In hibernation, it seems to have kicked off all the things covered.The bushes, dells, stone pits, and hidden places of all kinds, which had been secret treasures of exploration in the leafy summer, now let themselves and their secrets all pitifully be revealed, as if inviting him to see their temporary poverty. Look, until the day in the future, when they can re-indulge in the glorious masquerade ball as in the past, deceive him and seduce him with the ancient art of eating.It was pathetic on the one hand, yet gay on the other—exciting, even.He was glad that he liked the way Tian Ye looked undressed, naked, without all his finery.He had come to its bare bones, and they were good and strong and simple.He wants no warming clover and weeding tricks; it seems better to have no shelter of hedges, billowing curtains of beeches and elms.Full of joy, he marched towards the primeval forest, which lay low and menacingly before him, like a large black rock in the calm South Sea.

When he first entered the forest, nothing frightened him.Branches creaked under his feet, broken trees tripped his feet, and mushrooms on tree stumps, imitating something, startled him at once by their resemblance to something familiar in the distance; Zhang Zhang face. He turned his face first, and felt that he vaguely saw a face: a vicious little triangular face, staring at him from a hole.When I turned around towards it, the thing was gone. He quickened his pace, taking care of himself cheerfully not to think about it wildly, otherwise there would be no end to it. He goes through another hole, and another; and then... yes! ……yes!There was indeed a long, narrow, tearful face, with stern eyes, which flashed away in a hole.

He hesitated for a moment... cheered up and continued to move forward.Then all of a sudden, there seemed to be hundreds of holes that were so far and near all the time, and each hole looked at its own face, appearing and going quickly, all staring at him with malicious and hateful eyes: all cold, vicious and fierce. He thought that if only he could get out of the holes next to him, there would be no more faces.So he left the path and slipped into the untrodden part of the woods.That's when the whistling started. When he first heard it, it was faint and shrill, far behind him, but it made him hurry forward nonetheless.Then, the voice was still very weak and sharp, but it was far in front of him. He couldn't help hesitating for a moment, wanting to turn around and walk back.While he was still standing there hesitating, voices sounded from both sides, as if echoing each other, through the entire forest to the end.Whatever animals they were, they were clearly up, alert and ready.But he...he was alone, with his bare hands and nowhere to turn for help; the night was falling.Then there was a crackling sound.At first he thought it was just the softness of falling leaves.Then it had an even rhythm, and he understood that it could only be the clicking of little feet, but it was still a long way off. Was it; in front or in?It sounds like many are in front, then they seem to be behind, and then they seem to be in front and behind.The voice became louder and more numerous, until when he leaned from one side to the other and listened anxiously, the voice seemed to surround him from all directions.While he was standing still and listening, a Rabbit looked through the ground for a moment, and then turned to the Mole to ask him if he knew of a good word that rhymed.From the edge of the tree came a faint voice saying, "The Rat! Is it really you?"

The Rat crawled into the hollow, and found the Mole in it, exhausted and trembling. "Alas, Rat!" he cried. "I'm so scared, you really can't think of it!" "Oh, I can quite figure it out," said the Rat reassuringly. "You shouldn't have come out like this, Mole. I did everything in my power to keep you from doing it. We riverside dwellers seldom come up here alone. Make sure you come, at least with a company, and you'll be all right." And there are hundreds and thousands of things to watch out for here, things we know, but you don't. I'm talking passwords, signs, words of force, and plants in your pockets that you'll recite Poems, tricks and tricks you're going to play. If you know these things, it's easy enough, but if you're an animal, you have to know these, or you'll be in trouble. Of course, if you're a badger or an otter, that's another story. One thing."

"Brave Mr. Toad wouldn't mind coming up here alone, would he?" asked the Mole. "And old Toad?" said the Rat, laughing heartily. "He won't show his face here by himself, even if you give him a hat and gold coins, the toad won't come." The Mole was so delighted to hear the Rat laugh so casually, and to see his stick and his shiny pistol, that he stopped trembling, and began to feel bolder and more normal. "Well," said the Rat at once, "we must really get our spirits together, and we'll start home now, while it's still a little light. There's no way you can spend the night here, you know. Suffice it to say: It's too cold in here."

"Dear Rat," said poor Mole, "I'm so sorry, but it's true that I'm pretty worn out. If you want me to go home, you'll have to let me rest here a little longer anyway. Restore my strength." "Well, well then," said the good-natured Rat, "then rest for a while. Anyway, it's going to be very dark now, and there should be some moonlight in a while." So the Mole crawled into the dry leaves, stretched himself out, and soon fell asleep, though restlessly; and the Rat, covered up as warmly as he could, lay there patiently waiting, with his hands in his hands. Grab a pistol. When the Mole awoke at last, he was much more refreshed, and returned to his usual air. "There, then," said the Rat, "let me see if it is all quiet outside, and then we must go." He went to the hole of their refuge, and stuck his head out. Then the Mole heard him whispering to himself, "Ah! ah! Here it's... under...!" "What's up, Rat?" asked the Mole. "It's snowing," replied the Rat curtly, "or should I say: it's snowing. It's snowing hard." The Mole came along.Crouching beside him and looking out, he saw that the forest that had once terrified him had completely changed.All the caves, tree holes, puddles, traps, and other fears of the traveler were gone at once, and here and there was a shimmering fairy-land carpet too lovely to trample under a rough foot. .The sky is full of fine snow powder, and it feels a little tingling when it touches the cheeks.The black trunks are illuminated by the light from below. "Alas, alas, there is no way," said the Rat, after he had thought for a while. "I think we'll have to go and try our luck. Worst of all, I don't know exactly where we are. The snow has made everything completely unrecognizable now." Indeed.The Mole did not recognize the original forest.Yet they set off bravely, taking the surest-seeming line, supporting each other, always gaily pretending to recognize old friends at every tree that greeted them coldly and silently, or pretending to be in the same Passages, gaps, and paths are seen between the white spaces and the undifferentiated black trunks, and their turns are familiar. An hour or two later--they had lost count of the time--they stopped, dejected, exhausted, quite at a loss what to do, and sat gasping for breath on the trunk of a fallen tree, while contemplating the next what to do.They were so tired that their waists were sore and their backs ached, and they were hurt everywhere; they fell into several holes and were already soaked; the snow was so deep that they struggled to pull out their short legs and walked step by step; the trees were getting bigger and bigger. The denser it is, the more similar it becomes.The forest seemed to have no beginning and no end, it was the same everywhere, and worst of all, there was no way out. "We can't sit here too long," said the Rat. "We've got to keep on trying to do something. It's going to be too cold to do anything, and the snow will soon be too deep for us to walk." He stared at the Mole, thinking about it. "Listen," he went on, "that's what I'm thinking of doing. There's a little valley ahead of us, and it looks like it's full of bumps. We're going to go down there and try to find a place of shelter. ..a dry cave or hole, sheltered from the snow and the wind, where we rested before moving on, for we were both exhausted. Besides, the snow might stop, or the conditions might change." So they started up again, and struggled down into the valley, where they looked for a cave or a dry corner to shelter from the biting wind and flying snow.They were looking for one of the mounds that the Rat had mentioned, when the Mole stumbled, cried out, and fell face down on the ground. "Ouch, my leg!" he cried. "Oh, my poor shinbones!" Then he sat up in the snow and rubbed one of his legs with his front paws. "Poor old Mole!" said the Rat kindly. "Looks like you're having bad luck today, doesn't it? Let me see your leg. It's good," he said, kneeling down to look at it. "Your calf bone is indeed hurt. Wait until I get my handkerchief." Come out, and I'll wrap it up for you." "I must have tripped over some invisible branch or stump," said the Mole distressedly. "Alas! Alas!" "It's a wound," said the Rat, examining it carefully again. "Definitely not a branch or a stump. It seems to have been cut on the edge of something metal. That's strange!" He thought for a moment, and then inspected the piers and slopes around them. "Come on, never mind what's broken," said the Mole, who was so in pain that he forgot to say the proper words. "It doesn't matter what's dry or broken, it still hurts." But the Rat, having carefully bound the Mole's leg with his handkerchief, left him, and busied himself pawing and digging in the snow.He was chopping, digging, and looking, with all four legs busy, while the Mole waited impatiently, saying from time to time, "Oh, come, Rat!" Suddenly the Rat exclaimed: "Excellent!" And then: "Excellent--excellent--excellent--excellent--excellent--excellent--excellent--excellent!" Come jig. "What have you found, Rat?" asked the Mole, still rubbing his leg. "Come and see!" said the Rat, in high spirits, as he danced. The Mole limped up there, and had a good look. "Well," he said slowly at last, "I see it. I've seen this kind of stuff before, a lot. I must say, familiar stuff. A mud scraper by the door! Well, What's the matter? Why dance around a mud scraper?" "But don't you know what that means? You . . . you dull thing?" cried the Rat impatiently. "Of course I know what that means," replied the Mole, "but it means that some very careless and forgetful man lost the mud-scraper by his door in the primeval The place where everyone trips up. I said he's got no brains. When I get home I'm going to protest, mention... to someone, and I'll be damned if I don't mention it!" "Alas! alas!" cried the Rat, greatly disappointed at his slowness. "Okay, stop arguing, and come and scrape the snow!" He said and started to scrape the snow in all directions. He scratched like this for a while, and finally got the result: a very worn doormat was exposed. "See, what did I tell you?" said the Rat, with great satisfaction. "It's nothing at all," replied the Mole confidently. "Well," he went on, "it looks like you've just found another piece of household junk, worn out, and thrown away, but I think you're pretty happy about it. Go on with your dance around it, If you must jump, after this jump, we may be able to continue on the road, so we don't waste time on this garbage. Is the doormat edible? Can I sleep under the doormat? On the doormat, I can sit and ski home huh? You infuriating rodent!" "You . . . are . . . said," cried the excited Rat, "doesn't the doormat tell you anything?" "Honestly, Rat," said the Mole in great anger, "I think we've had enough of this nonsense. Who ever heard of a door-mat telling anything? They don't tell at all. They don't at all." That kind of role. Doormats just know where they're supposed to lie." "Now listen to me, you . Ah, especially around Dundun, if you want to sleep warm tonight in a dry place, because this is our last chance!" The Rat made a vigorous attack on a snow pier next to them, poking here and there with his stick, and digging furiously; The friend is dizzy. After ten minutes or so of toil, the Rat's stick tip touched something, which sounded hollow.He dug and dug till he could get his paw in, and then he called the Mole to help him.The two of them worked furiously, until at last the astonished Mole, who had not yet believed, fully saw the fruits of their labour. On the side of what was supposed to be a snow pier appeared a small, sturdy-looking door, painted dark green.Beside it was a door-bell cable, and under the door-bell was a little brass plate, squarely carved with capital letters, which they could read by moonlight: Mr. Badger Surprised and delighted, the Mole fell on his back on the snow. "Rat!" he yelled, admitting his mistake. "You are a great man! Needless to say, you are a great man, and now I see it all! I first fell and cut my calf, and you looked at the wound, and your noble soul immediately said: 'Yes! The mud scraper at the door!' From that moment on, your clever mind confirmed it step by step. Then you turned to find the mud scraper at the door that hurt me! You stop there No? No. One would be content with that, but you go on without you. 'Just let me find another doormat,' you say to yourself, 'and I'll be justified!' Naturally, you find your doormat. You are so clever that I am sure you can find anything you are looking for. 'Yes,' you say, 'that door exists as clearly as I can see it. Now the remaining The only thing to do is to find it!' Yes, I've read about it in books, but I've never seen it before in real life. You should go somewhere where it's really appreciated. You're here , among us, what a waste. If only I had your brains, Rat..." "But since you haven't," interrupted the Rat very rudely, "I suppose you're going to sit all night in the snow and talk all night? Get up at once and ring the bell you saw." Go up and pull the cable with all your strength, and I'll knock on the door!" When the Rat knocked at the door with his cane, the Mole flew up to the bell-guzzle, took hold of it, and hung on it, with both feet off the ground.From far away inside, they faintly heard the muffled ringing of a bell.