高级英语（张汉熙版）第二册学习笔记（原文及全文翻译）

Face to Face with Hurricane Camille

Joseph P. Blank

John Koshak, Jr., knew that Hurricane Camille would be bad. Radio and television warnings had sounded throughout that Sunday, last August 17, as Camille lashed northwestward across the Gulf of Mexico. It was certain to pummel Gulfport, Miss., where the Koshers lived. Along the coasts of Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama, nearly 150,000 people fled inland to safer ground. But, like thousands of others in the coastal communities, john was reluctant to abandon his home unless the family-his wife, Janis, and their seven children, aged 3 to 11-was clearly endangered.

Trying to reason out the best course of action, he talked with his father and mother, who had moved into the ten-room house with the Koshaks a month earlier from California. He also consulted Charles Hill, a long time friend, who had driven from Las Vegas for a visit.

John, 37-whose business was right there in his home ( he designed and developed educational toys and supplies, and all of Magna Products' correspondence, engineering drawings and art work were there on the first floor)-was familiar with the power of a hurricane. Four years earlier, Hurricane Betsy had demolished undefined his former home a few miles west of Gulfport (Koshak had moved his family to a motel for the night). But that house had stood only a few feet above sea level. "We're elevated 23 feet," he told his father, "and we're a good 250 yards from the sea.

The place has been here since 1915, and no hurricane has ever bothered it. We' II probably be as safe here as anyplace else."

The elder Koshak, a gruff, warmhearted expert machinist of 67, agreed. "We can batten down and ride it out," he said. "If we see signs of danger, we can get out before dark." The men methodically prepared for the hurricane. Since water mains might be damaged, they filled bathtubs and pails. A power failure was likely, so they checked out batteries for the portable radio and flashlights, and fuel for the lantern. John's father moved a small generator into the downstairs hallway, wired several light bulbs to it and prepared a connection to the refrigerator.

Rain fell steadily that afternoon; gray clouds scudded in from the Gulf on the rising wind. The family had an early supper. A neighbor, whose husband was in Vietnam, asked if she and her two children could sit out the storm with the Koshaks. Another neighbor came by on his way in-land-would the Koshaks mind taking care of his dog?

It grew dark before seven o' clock. Wind and rain now whipped the house. John sent his oldest son and daughter upstairs to bring down mattresses and pillows for the younger children. He wanted to keep the group together on one floor. "Stay away from the windows," he warned, concerned about glass flying from storm-shattered panes. As the wind mounted to a roar, the house began leaking- the rain seemingly driven right through the walls. With mops, towels, pots and buckets the Koshaks began a struggle against the rapidly spreading water. At 8:30, power failed, and Pop Koshak turned on the generator.

The roar of the hurricane now was overwhelming. The house shook, and the ceiling in the living room was falling piece by piece. The French doors in an upstairs room blew in with an explosive sound, and the group heard gun-like reports as other upstairs windows disintegrated. Water rose above their ankles.

Then the front door started to break away from its frame. John and Charlie put their shoulders against it, but a blast of water hit the house, flinging open the door and shoving them down the hall. The generator was doused, and the lights went out. Charlie licked his lips and shouted to John. "I think we' re in real trouble. That water tasted salty." The sea had reached the house, and the water was rising by the minute!

"Everybody out the back door to the cars!" John yelled. "We' II pass the children along between us. Count them! Nine!"

The children went from adult to adult like buckets in a fire brigade. But the cars wouldn't start; the electrical systems had been killed by water. The wind was too Strong and the water too deep to flee on foot. "Back to the house!" john yelled. "Count the children! Count nine!"

As they scrambled back, john ordered, "Every-body on the stairs!" Frightened, breathless and wet, the group settled on the stairs, which were protected by two interior walls. The children put the cat, Spooky, and a box with her four kittens on the landing. She peered nervously at her litter. The neighbor's dog curled up and went to sleep.

The wind sounded like the roar of a train passing a few yards away. The house shuddered and shifted on its foundations. Water inched its way up the steps as first- floor outside walls collapsed. No one spoke. Everyone knew there was no escape; they would live or die in the house.

Charlie Hill had more or less taken responsibility for the neighbor and her two children. The mother was on the verge of panic. She clutched his arm and kept repeating, "I can't swim, I can't swim."

"You won't have to," he told her, with outward calm. "It's bound to end soon."

Grandmother Koshak reached an arm around her husband's shoulder and put her mouth close to his ear. "Pop," she said, "I love you." He turned his head and answered, "I love you" -and his voice lacked its usual gruffness.

John watched the water lap at the steps, and felt a crushing guilt. He had underestimated the ferocity of Camille. He had assumed that what had never happened could not happen. He held his head between his hands, and silently prayed: "Get us through this mess, will You?"

A moment later, the hurricane, in one mighty swipe, lifted the entire roof off the house and skimmed it 40 feet through the air. The bottom steps of the staircase broke apart. One wall began crumbling on the marooned group.

迎战卡米尔号飓风

约瑟夫·布兰克

小约翰·柯夏克已料到，卡米尔号飓风来势定然凶猛。就在去年8月17日那个星期天，当卡米尔号飓风越过墨西哥湾向西北进袭之时，收音机和电视里整天不断地播放着飓风警报。柯夏克一家居住的地方一-密西西比州的高尔夫港--肯定会遭到这场飓风的猛烈袭击。路易斯安那、密西西比和亚拉巴马三州沿海一带的居民已有将近15万人逃往内陆安全地带。但约翰就像沿海村落中其他成千上万的人一样，不愿舍弃家园，要他下决心弃家外逃，除非等到他的一家人一妻子詹妮丝以及他们那七个年龄从三岁到十一岁的孩子一一眼看着就要灾祸临头。

为了找出应付这场风灾的最佳对策，他与父母商量过。两位老人是早在一个月前就从加利福尼亚迁到这里来，住进柯夏克一家所住的那幢十个房间的屋子里。他还就此征求过从拉斯韦加斯开车来访的老朋友查理·希尔的意见。

约翰的全部产业就在自己家里(他开办的玛格纳制造公司是设计、研制各种教育玩具和教育用品的。公司的一切往来函件、设计图纸和工艺模具全都放在一楼)。37岁的他对飓风的威力是深有体会的。四年前，他原先拥有的位于高尔夫港以西几英里外的那个家就曾毁于贝翠号飓风(那场风灾前夕柯夏克已将全家搬到一家汽车旅馆过夜)。不过，当时那幢房子所处的地势偏低，高出海平面仅几英尺。"我们现在住的这幢房子高了23英尺，'他对父亲说，"而且距离海边足有250码远。

这幢房子是1915年建造的。至今还从未受到过飓风的袭击。我们呆在这儿恐怕是再安全不过了。

老柯夏克67岁是个语粗心慈的熟练机械师。他对儿子的意见表示赞同。"我们是可以严加防卫。度过难关的，"他说，"一但发现危险信号，我们还可以赶在天黑之前撤出去。" 为了对付这场飓风，几个男子汉有条不紊地做起准备工作来。自来水管道可能遭到破坏，他们把浴盆和提桶都盛满水。飓风也可能造成断电，所以他们检查手提式收音机和手电筒里的电池以及提灯里的燃料油。约翰的父亲将一台小发电机搬到楼下门厅里，接上几个灯泡。并做好把发电机与电冰箱接通的准备。

那天下午，雨一直下个不停，乌云随着越来越猛的暴风从海湾上空席卷而来。全家早早地用晚餐。邻居中一个丈夫去了越南的妇女跑过来。问她和她的两个孩子是否能搬进柯夏克家躲避风灾：另一个准备向内陆带转移的邻居也跑来问柯夏克家能否替他照看一下他的狗。

不到七点钟，天就黑了。狂风暴雨拍打着屋子。约翰让大儿子和大女儿上楼去取来被褥和枕头给几个小一点的孩子。他想把全家人都集中在同一层楼上。"不要靠近窗户!"他警告说，担心在飓风巾震破的玻璃碎片会飞来伤人。风凶猛地咆哮起来屋子开始漏雨了…那雨水好像能穿墙透壁，往屋里直灌。一家人都操起拖把、毛巾、盆罐和水桶，展开了一场排水战。到八点半钟，电没有了。柯夏克老爹便启动了小发电机。

飓风的咆哮声压倒了一切。房子摇晃着，起居室的天花板一块块掉下来。楼上一个房问的法兰西式两用门砰地一声被风吹开了。楼下的人还听到楼上其他玻璃窗破碎时发出的劈劈啪啪的响声。积水已经漫到脚踝上了。

随后，前门开始从门框上脱落。约翰和查理用肩膀抵住。但一股水浪冲击过来，撞开了大门，把两人都掀倒在地板上。发电机泡在水里，电灯熄灭了。查理舔了舔嘴唇，对着约翰大喊道："这回可真是大难临头了。这水是咸的。"海水已经漫到屋子跟前，积水仍不断上涨。

"都从后门到汽车上去!"约翰提高嗓门大叫道。"我们把孩子们一个个递过去，数一数!一共九个!"

孩子们从大人手上像救火队的水桶一样被递了过去。可是汽车不能发动了。它的点火系统被水泡坏了。水深风急。又不可能靠两只脚逃命。"回屋里去!.'约翰高声喊道。"数一数孩子们。一共九个!"

等他们爬着回到屋里后。约翰又命令道："都到楼梯上去！于是大家都跑到靠两堵内墙保护的楼梯上歇着。个个吓得要命，气喘吁吁，浑身湿透。孩子们把取名为斯普琪的一只猫和一个装着四只小猫仔的盒子放在楼梯平台上。斯普琪心神不定地打量着自己的幼仔，邻人的那条狗已蜷起身子睡着了。

狂风就像在身边呼啸而过的列车一样发出震耳的响声，房屋在地基上晃动移位。一楼的外墙坍塌了，海水渐渐地漫上了楼梯，大家沉默无语。谁都明白现在已是无路可逃，死活都只好留在崖子里了。

查理希尔对邻家的妇女和她那两个孩子多少尽了一点责任。那妇女简直吓昏了头。她紧紧地抓住他的胳膊连声叫道："我不会游泳，我可不会游泳啊。

"不会游泳也不要紧?"他强作镇定地安慰她道，一会儿便什么都过去了。

柯夏克老奶奶伸出胳臂挽住丈夫的肩膀。把嘴凑到他的耳边说，"老爷子，我爱你。"柯老爹扭过头来也回了一句"我爱你，说话声已不像平日那样粗声粗气的。

约翰望着海水漫过一级一级的台阶，心里感到一阵强烈的内疚。都怪他低估了卡米尔号飓风的危险性，一直认为未曾发生过的事情决不会发生。他两手抱着头，默默地祈祷着："啊，上帝，保佑我们度过这难关吧!"

不一会儿，一阵强风掠过，将整个屋顶卷入空中，抛向40英尺以外。楼梯底层的几级台阶断裂开来。有一堵墙眼看着就要倒向这群陷入进退维谷境地的男女老少。

Key Words:

ferocity   [fə'rɔsiti] 

n. 凶猛性，残忍性，狂暴的行为

crumbling            

v. 破碎；崩溃（crumble的ing形式）

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