the hunger games-饥饿游戏(英文版)-第32章

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here　is　at　least　one　other　tribute　close　at　hand。　
I　would　drag　myself　into　a　tree　and　take　cover　now　if　I　could；　but　the　smoke　is　still　thick　enough　to　kill　me。　I　make　myself　stand　and　begin　to　limp　away　from　the　wall　of　flames　that　lights　up　the　sky。　It　does　not　seem　to　be　pursuing　me　any　longer；　except　with　its　stinking　black　clouds。　
Another　light；　daylight；　begins　to　softly　emerge。　Swirls　of　smoke　catch　the　sunbeams。　My　visibility　is　poor。　I　can　see　maybe　fifteen　yards　in　any　direction。　A　tribute　could　easily　be　concealed　from　me　here。　I　should　draw　my　knife　as　a　precaution；　but　I　doubt　my　ability　to　hold　it　for　long。　The　pain　in　my　hands　can　in　no　way　pete　with　that　in　my　calf。　I　hate　burns；　have　always　hated　them；　even　a　small　one　gotten　from　pulling　a　pan　of　bread　from　the　oven。　It　is　the　worst　kind　of　pain　to　me；　but　I　have　never　experienced　anything　like　this。
Iˇm　so　weary　I　donˇt　even　notice　Iˇm　in　the　pool　until　Iˇm　ankle…deep。　Itˇs　spring…fed；　bubbling　up　out　of　a　crevice　in　some　rocks；　and　blissfully　cool。　I　plunge　my　hands　into　the　shallow　water　and　feel　instant　relief。　Isnˇt　that　what　my　mother　always　says？　The　first　treatment　for　a　burn　is　cold　water？　That　it　draws　out　the　heat？　But　she　means　minor　burns。　Probably　sheˇd　remend　it　for　my　hands。　But　what　of　my　calf？　Although　I　have　not　yet　had　the　courage　to　examine　it；　Iˇm　guessing　that　itˇs　an　injury　in　a　whole　different　class。
I　lie　on　my　stomach　at　edge　of　the　pool　for　a　while；　dangling　my　hands　in　the　water；　examining　the　little　flames　on　my　fingernails　that　are　beginning　to　chip　off。　Good。　Iˇve　had　enough　fire　for　a　lifetime。
I　bathe　the　blood　and　ash　from　my　face。　I　try　to　recall　all　I　know　about　burns。　They　are　mon　injuries　in　the　Seam　where　we　cook　and　heat　our　homes　with　coal。　Then　there　are　the　mine　accidents。　。　。　。　A　family　once　brought　in　an　unconscious　young　man　pleading　with　my　mother　to　help　him。　The　district　doctor　whoˇs　responsible　for　treating　the　miners　had　written　him　off；　told　the　family　to　take　him　home　to　die。　But　they　wouldnˇt　accept　this。　He　lay　on　our　kitchen　table；　senseless　to　the　world。　I　got　a　glimpse　of　the　wound　on　his　thigh；　gaping；　charred　flesh；　burned　clear　down　to　the　bone；　before　I　ran　from　the　house。　I　went　to　the　woods　and　hunted　the　entire　day；　haunted　by　the　gruesome　leg；　memories　of　my　fatherˇs　death。　Whatˇs　funny　was；　Prim；　whoˇs　scared　of　her　own　shadow；　stayed　and　helped。　My　mother　says　healers　are　born；　not　made。　They　did　their　best；　but　the　man　died；　just　like　the　doctor　said　he　would。
My　leg　is　in　need　of　attention；　but　I　still　canˇt　look　at　it。　What　if　itˇs　as　bad　as　the　manˇs　and　I　can　see　my　bone？　Then　I　remember　my　mother　saying　that　if　a　burnˇs　severe；　the　victim　might　not　even　feel　pain　because　the　nerves　would　be　destroyed。　Encouraged　by　this；　I　sit　up　and　swing　my　leg　in　front　of　me。
I　almost　faint　at　the　sight　of　my　calf。　The　flesh　is　a　brilliant　red　covered　with　blisters。　I　force　myself　to　take　deep；　sloeras　are　on　my　face。　I　canˇt　show　weakness　at　this　injury。　Not　if　I　want　help。　Pity　does　not　get　you　aid。　Admiration　at　your　refusal　to　give　in　does。　I　cut　the　remains　of　the　pant　leg　off　at　the　knee　and　examine　the　injury　more　closely。　The　burned　area　is　about　the　size　of　my　hand。　None　of　the　skin　is　blackened。　I　think　itˇs　not　too　bad　to　soak。　Gingerly　I　stretch　out　my　leg　into　the　pool；　propping　the　heel　of　my　boot　on　a　rock　so　the　leather　doesnˇt　get　too　sodden；　and　sigh；　because　this　does　offer　some　relief。　I　know　there　are　herbs；　if　I　could　find　them；　that　would　speed　the　healing；　but　I　canˇt　quite　call　them　to　mind。　Water　and　time　will　probably　be　all　I　have　to　work　with。
Should　I　be　moving　on？　The　smoke　is　slowly　clearing　but　still　too　heavy　to　be　healthy。　If　I　do　continue　away　from　the　fire；　wonˇt　I　be　walking　straight　into　the　weapons　of　the　Careers？　Besides；　every　time　I　lift　my　leg　from　the　water；　the　pain　rebounds　so　intensely　I　have　to　slide　it　back　in。　My　hands　are　slightly　less　demanding。　They　can　handle　small　breaks　from　the　pool。　So　I　slowly　put　my　gear　back　in　order。　First　I　fill　my　bottle　with　the　pool　water；　treat　it；　and　when　enough　time　has　passed；　begin　to　rehydrate　my　body。　After　a　time；　I　force　myself　to　nibble　on　a　cracker；　which　helps　settle　my　stomach。　I　roll　up　my　sleeping　bag。　Except　for　a　few　black　marks；　itˇs　relatively　unscathed。　My　jacketˇs　another　matter。　Stinking　and　scorched；　at　least　a　foot　of　the　back　beyond　repair。　I　cut　off　the　damaged　area　leaving　me　with　a　garment　that　es　just　to　the　bottom　of　my　ribs。　But　the　hoodˇs　intact　and　itˇs　far　better　than　nothing。
Despite　the　pain；　drowsiness　begins　to　take　over。　Iˇd　take　to　a　tree　and　try　to　rest；　except　Iˇd　be　too　easy　to　spot。　Besides；　abandoning　my　pool　seems　impossible。　I　neatly　arrange　my　supplies；　even　settle　my　pack　on　my　shoulders；　but　I　canˇt　seem　to　leave。　I　spot　some　water　plants　with　edible　roots　and　make　a　small　meal　with　my　last　piece　of　rabbit。　Sip　water。　Watch　the　sun　make　its　slow　arc　across　the　sky。　Where　would　I　go　anyway　that　is　any　safer　than　here？　I　lean　back　on　my　pack；　overe　by　drowsiness。　If　the　Careers　want　me；　let　them　find　me；　I　think　before　drifting　into　a　stupor。　Let　them　find　me。
And　find　me；　they　do。　Itˇs　lucky　Iˇm　ready　to　move　on　because　when　I　hear　the　feet；　I　have　less　than　a　minute　head　start。　Evening　has　begun　to　fall。　The　moment　I　awake；　Iˇm　up　and　running；　splashing　across　the　pool；　flying　into　the　underbrush。　My　leg　slows　me　down；　but　I　sense　my　pursuers　are　not　as　speedy　as　they　were　before　the　fire；　either。　I　hear　their　coughs；　their　raspy　voices　calling　to　one　another。
Still；　they　are　closing　in；　just　like　a　pack　of　wild　dogs；　and　so　I　do　what　I　have　done　my　whole　life　in　such　circumstances。　I　pick　a　high　tree　and　begin　to　climb。　If　running　hurt；　climbing　is　agonizing　because　it　requires　not　only　exertion　but　direct　contact　of　my　hands　on　the　tree　bark。　Iˇm　fast；　though；　and　by　the　time　theyˇve　reached　the　base　of　my　trunk；　Iˇm　twenty　feet　up。　For　a　moment；　we　stop　and　survey　one　another。　I　hope　they　canˇt　hear　the　pounding　of　my　heart。
This　could　be　it；　I　think。　What　chance　do　I　have　against　them？　All　six　are　there；　the　five　Careers　and　Peeta；　and　my　only　consolation　is　theyˇre　pretty　beat…up；　too。　Even　so；　look　at　their　weapons。　Look　at　their　faces；　grinning　and　snarling　at　me；　a　sure　kill　above　them。　It　seems　pretty　hopeless。　But　then　something　else　registers。　Theyˇre　bigger　and　stronger　than　I　am；　no　doubt；　but　theyˇre　also　heavier。　Thereˇs　a　reason　itˇs　me　and　not　Gale　who　ventures　up　to　pluck　the　highest　fruit；　or　rob　the　most　remote　bird　nests。　I　must　weigh　at　least　fifty　or　sixty　pounds　less　than　the　smallest　Career。
Now　I　smile。　¨Howˇs　everything　with　you？〃　I　call　down　cheerfully。
This　takes　them　aback；　but　I　know　the　crowd　will　love　it。
¨Well　enough；〃　says　the　boy　from　District　2。　¨Yourself？〃
¨Itˇs　been　a　bit　warm　for　my　taste；〃　I　say。　I　can　almost　hear　the　laughter　from　the　Capitol。　¨The　airˇs　better　up　here。　Why　donˇt　you　e　on　up？〃
¨Think　I　will；〃　says　the　same　boy。
¨Here；　take　this；　Cato；〃　says　the　girl　from　District　1；　and　she　offers　him　the　silver　bow　and　sheath　of　arrows。　My　bow！　My　arrows！　Just　the　sight　of　them　makes　me　so　angry　I　want　to　scream；　at　myself；　at　that　traitor　Peeta　for　distracting　me　from　having　them。　I　try　to　make　eye　contact　with　him　now；　but　he　seems　to　be　intentionally　avoiding　my　gaze　as　he　polishes　his　knife　with　the　edge　of　his　shirt。
　¨No；〃　says　Cato；　pushing　away　the　bow。　¨Iˇll　do　better　with　my　sword。〃　I　can　see　the　weapon；　a　short；　heavy　blade　at　his　belt。
I　give　Cato　time　to　hoist　himself　into　the　tree　before　I　begin　to　climb　again。　Gale　always　says　I　remind　him　of　a　squirrel　the　way　I　can　scurry　up　even　the　slenderest　limb。　Part　of　itˇs　my　weight；　but　part　of　itˇs　practice。　You　have　to　know　where　to　place　your　hands　and　feet。　Iˇm　another　thirty　feet　in　the　air　when　I　hear　the　crack　and　look　down　to　see　Cato　flailing　as　he　and　a　branch　go　down。　He　hits　the　ground　hard　and　Iˇm　hoping　he　possibly　broke　his　neck　when　he　gets　back　to　his　feet；　swearing　like　a　fiend。
The　girl　with　the　arrows；　Glimmer　I　hear　someone　call　her　　ugh；　the　names　the　people　i