ToBuildaFire大学英语作文1 -earsprickedforwardintentlyasitwatchedthemanandtheman,ashebeatandthreshedwithh下面是小编为大家整理的To,Build,a,Fire大学英语作文,菁选3篇【优秀范文】,供大家参考。
To Build a Fire大学英语作文1
-ears pricked forward intently as it watched the man and the man, as he beat and threshed with his arms and hands, felt a great surge of envy as he regarded the creature that was warm ant secure in its natural covering。
after a time he was aware of the first far-away signals of sensation in his beaten fingers。 the faint tingling grew stronger till it evolved into a stinging ache that was ecruciating, but which the man hailed with satisfaction。 he stripped the mitten from his right hand and fetched forth the birch bark。 the eposed fingers were quickly going numb again。 net he brought out his bunch of sulphur matches。 but the tremendous cold had already driven the life out of his fingers。 in his effort to separate one match from the others, the whole bunch fell in the snow。 he tried to pick it out of the snow, but failed。 the dead fingers could neither touch nor clutch。 he was very careful。 he drove the thought of his freezing feet, and nose, and cheeks, out of his mind, devoting his whole soul to the matches。 he watched, using the sense of vision in place of that of touch, and when he saw his fingers on each side the bunch, he dosed them--that is, he willed to close them, for the wires were down, and the fingers did not obey。 he pulled the mitten on the right hand and beat it fiercely against his knee。 then。 with both mittened hands, he scooped the bunch of matches, along with much snow, into his lap。 yet he was no better off。
after some manipulation he managed to get the bunch between the heels of his mittened hands。 in this fashion he carried it to his mouth。 the ice crackled and snapped when by a violent effort he opened his mouth。 he drew the lower jaw in, curled the upper lip out of the way, and scraped the bunch with his upper teeth in order to separate a match。 he succeeded in getting one, which he dropped on his lap。 he was no better off。 he could not pick it up。 then he devised a way。 he picked it up in his teeth and scratched it on his leg。 twenty times he scratched before he succeeded in lighting it。 as it flamed he held it with his teeth to the birch bark。 but the burning brimstone went up his nostrils and into his lungs, causing him to cough spasmodically。 the match fell into the snow and went out。
the old-timer an sulphur creek was right, he thought in the moment of controlled despair that ensued after fifty below, a man should travel with a partner。 he beat his hands, but failed in eciting any sensation。 suddenly he bared both hands, removing the mittens with his teeth。 he caught the whole bunch between the heels of his hands。 his arm muscles not being frozen enabled him to press the hand-heels tightly against the matches。 then he scratched the bunch along his leg it flared into flame, seventy sulphur matches at once! there was no wind to blow them out he kept his head to one side to escape the strangling fumes, and held the blazing bunch to the birth bark。 as he so held it, he became aware of sensation in his hand。 his flesh was burning。 he could smell it。 deep down below the surface he could feel it。 the sensation developed into pain that grew acute。 and still he endured, it holding the flame of the matches clumsily to the bark that would not light readily because his own burning hands were in the way, absorbing most of the flame。
at last, when he could endure no more, he jerked his hands apart。 the blazing matches fell sizzling into the snow, but the birch bark was alight。 he began laying dry grasses and the tiniest twigs on the flame。 he could not pick and choose, for he had to lift the fuel between the heels of his hands。 small pieces of rotten wood and green moss clung to the twigs, and he bit them off as well as he could with his teeth。 he cherished the flame carefully and awkwardly。 it meant life, and it must not perish。 the withdrawal of blood from the surface of his body now made him begin to shiver, and he grew more awkward。 a large piece of green moss fell squarely on the little fire。 he tried to poke it out with his fingers, but his shivering frame made him poke too far and he disrupted the nucleus of the little fire, the burning grasses and tiny twigs separating and scattering。 he tried to poke them together again, but in spite of the tenseness of the effort, his shivering got away with him, and the twigs were hopelessly scattered。 each twig gushed a puff of smoke and went out。 the fire-provider had failed。 as he looked apathetically about him, his eyes chanced on the dog, sitting across the ruins of the fire from him, in the snow, making restless, hunching movements, slightly lifting one forefoot and then the other, shifting its weight back and forth on them with wistful eagerness。
the sight of the dog put a wild idea into his head。 he remembered the tale of the man, caught in a blizzard, who killed a steer and crawled inside the carcass, and so was saved。 he would kill the dog and bury his hands in the warm body until the numbness went out of them。 then he could build another fire。 he spoke to the dog, calling it to him; but in his voice was a strange note of fear that frightened the animal, who had never known the man to speak in such way before。 something was the matter, and its suspicious nature sensed danger--it knew not what danger, but somewhere, somehow, in its brain arose an apprehension of the man。 it flattened its ears down at the sound of the mans voice, and its restless, hunching movements and the liftings and shiftings of its forefeet became more pronounced; but it would not come to the man。 he got on his hands and knees and crawled toward the dog。 this unusual posture again ecited suspicion, and the animal sidled mincingly away。
the man sat up in the snow for a moment and struggled for calmness。 then he pulled on his mittens, by means of his teeth, and got upon his feet。 he glanced down at first in order to assure himself that he was really standing up, for the absence of sensation in his feet left him unrelated to the earth。 his erect position in itself started to drive the webs of suspicion from the dogs mind; and when he spoke peremptorily, with the sound of whiplashes in his voice, the dog rendered its customary allegiance and came to him。 as it came within reaching distance, the man lost his control。 his arms flashed out to the dog, and he eperienced genuine surprise when he discovered that his hands could not clutch, that there was neither bend nor feeling in the fingers。 he had forgotten for the moment that they were frozen and that they were freezing more and more。 all this happened quickly, and before the animal could get away, he encircled its body with his arms。 he sat down in the snow, and in this fashion held the dog, while it snarled and whined and struggled。
but it was all he could do, hold its body encircled in his arms and sit there。 he realized that he could not kill the dog。 there was no way to do it。 with his helpless hands he could neither draw nor hold his sheath knife nor throttle the animal。 he released it, and it plunged wildly away, with tail between its legs, and still snarling。 it halted forty feet away and surveyed him curiously, with ears shar* pricked forward。 the man looked down at his hands in order to locate them, and found them hanging on the ends of his arms。 it struck him as curious that one should have to use his eyes in order to find out where his hands were。 he began threshing his arms back and forth, beating the mittened hands against his sides。 he did this for five minutes, violently, and his heart pumped enough blood up to the surface to put a stop to his shivering。 but no sensation was aroused in the hands。 he had an impression that they hung like weights on the ends of his arms, but when he tried to run the impression down, he could not find it。
a certain fear of death, dull and oppressive, came to him。 this fear quickly became poignant as he realized that it was no longer a mere matter of freezing his fingers and toes, or of losing his hands and feet, but tha
To Build a Fire大学英语作文2
day had broken cold and gray, eceedingly cold and gray, when the man turned aside from the main yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank, where a dim and little traveled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland。 it was a steep bank, and he paused for breath at the top, ecusing the act to himself by looking at his watch。 it was nine oclock。 there was no sun nor hint of sun, though there was not a cloud in the sky。 it was a clear day, and yet there seemed an intangible pall over the face of things, a subtle gloom that made the day dark, and that was due to the absence of sun。 this fact did not worry the man。 he was used to the lack of sun。 it had been days since he had seen the sun, and he knew that a few more-days must pass before that cheerful orb, due south, would just peep above the sky-line and dip immediately from view。
the man flung a look back along the way he had come。 the yukon lay a mile wide and hidden under three feet of ice。 on top of this ice were as many feet of snow。 it was all pure white, rolling in gentle, undulations where the ice jams of the freeze-up had formed。 north and south, as far as his eye could see, it was unbroken white, save for a dark hairline that curved and twisted from around the spruce-covered island to the south, and that curved and twisted away into the north, where it disappeared behind another spruce-covered island。 this dark hair-line was the trail--the main trail--that led south five hundred miles to the chilcoot pass, dyea, and salt water; and that led north seventy miles to dawson, and still on to the north a thousand miles to nulato, and finally to st。 michael on bering sea, a thousand miles and half a thousand more。
but all this--the mysterious, far-reaching hair-line trail。 the absence of sun from the sky, the tremendous cold, and the strangeness and weirdness of it all--made no impression on the man。 it was not because he was long used to it。 he was a newcomer! in the land, a chechaquo, and this was his first winter。 the trouble with him was that he was without imagination。 he was quick and alert in the things of life, but only in the things, and not in the significances。 fifty degrees below zero meant eighty-odd degrees of frost。 such fact impressed him as being cold and uncomfortable, and that was all。 it did not lead him to meditate upon his frailty as a creature of temperature, and upon mans frailty in general, able only to live within certain narrow limits of heat and cold; and from there on it did not lead him to the conjectural field of immortality and mans place in the universe。 fifty degrees below zero stood forte bite of frost that hurt and that must be guarded against by the use of mittens, ear-flaps, warm moccasins, and thick socks。 fifty degrees below zero was to him just precisely fifty degrees below zero。 that there should be anything more to it than that was a thought that never entered his head。
as he turned to go on, he spat speculatively。 there was a sharp, eplosive crackle that startled him。 he spat again。 and again, in the air, before it could fall to the snow, the spittle crackled。 he knew that at fifty below spittle crackled on the snow, but this spittle had crackled in the air。 undoubtedly it was colder than fifty below--how much colder he did not know。 but the temperature did not matter。 he was bound for the old claim on the left fork of henderson creek, where the boys were already。 they had come over across the divide from the indian creek country, while he had come the roundabout way to take; a look at the possibilities of getting out logs in the spring from the islands in the yukon。 he would be in to camp by si oclock; a bit after dark, it was true, but the boys would be there, a fire would be going, and a hot supper would be ready。 as for lunch, he pressed his hand against the protruding bundle under his jacket。 it was also under his shirt, wrapped up in a handkerchief and lying against the naked skin。 it was the only way to keep the biscuits from freezing。 he smiled agreeably to himself as he thought of those biscuits, each cut open and sopped in bacon grease, and each enclosing a generous slice of fried bacon。
he plunged in among the big spruce trees。 the trail was faint。 a foot of snow had fallen since the last sled had passed over, and he was glad he was without a sled, traveling light。 in fact, he carried nothing but the lunch wrapped in the handkerchief。 he was surprised, however, at the cold。 it certainly was cold, he concluded as he rubbed his numb nose and cheek-bones with his mittened hand。 he was a warm-whiskered man, but the hair on his face did not protect the high cheek-bones and the eager nose that thrust itself aggressively into the frosty air。
at the mans heels trotted a dog, a big native husky, the proper wolfdog, gray-coated and without any visible or temperamental difference from its brother, the wild wolf。 the animal was depressed by the tremendous cold。 it knew that it was no time for traveling。 its instinct told it a truer tale than was told to the man by the mans judgment。 in reality, it was not merely colder than fifty below zero; it was colder than sity below, than seventy below。 it was seventy-five below zero。 since the freezing point is thirty-two above zero, it meant that one hundred and seven degrees of frost obtained。 the dog did not know anything about thermometers。 possibly in its brain there was no sharp consciousness of a condition of very cold such as was in the mans brain。 but the brute had its instinct。 it eperienced a vague but menacing apprehension that subdued it and made it slink along at the mans heels, and that made it question eagerly every unwonted movement of the man as if epecting him to go into camp or to seek shelter somewhere and build a fire。 the dog had learned fire, and it wanted fire, or else to burrow under the snow and cuddle its warmth away from the air。
the frozen moisture of its breathing had settled on its fur in a fine powder of frost, and especially were its jowls, muzzle, and eyelashes whitened by its crystalled breath。 the mans red beard and mustache were likewise frosted, but more solidly, the deposit taking the form of ice and increasing with every warm, moist breath he ehaled。 also, the man was chewing tobacco, and the muzzle of ice held his lips so rigidly that he was unable to clear his chin when he epelled the juice。 the result was that a crystal beard of the color and solidity of amber was increasing its length on his chin。 if he fell down it would shatter itself, like glass, into brittle fragments。 but he did not mind the appendage。 it was the penalty all tobacco-chewers paid in that country, and he had been out before in two cold snaps。 they had not been so cold as this, he knew, but by the spirit thermometer at sity mile he knew they had been registered at fifty below and at fifty-five。
he held on through the level stretch of woods for several miles, crossed a wide flat of rigger-heads, and dropped down a bank to the frozen bed of a small stream。 this was henderson creek, and he knew he was ten miles from the forks。 he looked at his watch。 it was ten oclock。 he was making four miles an hour, and he calculated that he would arrive at the forks at half-past twelve。 he decided to celebrate that event by eating his lunch there。
the dog dropped in again at his heels, with a tail drooping discouragement, as the man swung along the creek-bed。 the furrow of the old sled-trail was plainly visible, but a dozen inches of snow covered the marks of the last runners。 in a month no man had come up or down that silent creek。 the man held steadily on。 he was not much given to thinking, and just then particularly he had nothing to think about save that he would eat lunch at-the forks and that at si oclock he would be in camp with the boys。 there was nobody to talk to; and, had there been, speech would have been impossible because of the ice-muzzle on his mouth。 so he continued monotonously to chew tobac
To Build a Fire大学英语作文3
once in a while the thought reiterated itself that it was very cold and that he had never eperienced such cold。 as he walked along he rubbed his cheek-bones and nose with the back of his mittened hand。 he did this automatically, now and again changing hands。 but rub as he would, the instant he stopped his cheek-bones went numb, and the following instant the end of his nose went numb。 he was sure to frost his cheeks; he knew that, and eperienced a pang of regret that he had not devised a nose-strap of the sort bud wore in cold snaps。 such a strap passed across the cheeks, as well, and saved them。 but it didnt matter much, after all。 what were frosted cheeks? a bit painful, that was all; they were never serious。
empty as the mans mind was of thoughts, he was keenly observant, and he noticed the changes in the creek, the curves and bends and timber jams, and always he shar* noted where he placed his feet。 once coming around a bend, he shied abruptly, like a startled horse, curved away from the place where he had been walking, and retreated several paces back along the trail。 the creek he knew was frozen clear to the bottom,--no creek could contain water in that arctic winter,--but he knew also that there were springs that bubbled out from the hillsides and ran along under the snow and on top the ice of the creek。 he knew that the coldest snaps never froze these springs, and he knew likewise their danger。 they were traps。 they hid pools of water under the snow that might be three inches deep, or three feet。 sometimes a skin of ice。 half an inch thick covered them, and in turn was covered by the snow sometimes there were alternate layers of water and ice-skin, so that when one broke through he kept on breaking through for a while, sometimes wetting himself to the waist。
that was why he had shied in such panic。 he had felt the give under his feet and heard the crackle of a snow-hidden ice-skin。 and to get his feet wet in such a temperature meant trouble and danger。 at the very least it meant delay, for he would be forced to stop and build a fire, and under its protection to bare his feet while he dried his socks and moccasins。 he stood and studied the creek-bed and its banks, and decided that the flow of water came from the right。 he reflected a while, rubbing his nose and cheeks, then skirted to the left, stepping gingerly and testing the footing for each step。 once clear of the danger, he took a fresh chew of tobacco and swung along at his four-mile gait。
in the course of the net two hours he came upon several similar traps。 usually the snow above the hidden pools had a sunken, candied appearance that advertised the danger。 once again, however, he had a close call; and once, suspecting danger, he compelled the dog to go on in front。 the dog did not want to go。 it hung back until the man shoved it forward, and then it went quickly across the white, unbroken surface。 suddenly it broke through, floundered to one side, and got away to firmer footing。 it had wet its forefeet and legs, and almost immediately the water that clung to it turned to ice。 it made quick efforts to lick the ice off its legs, then dropped down in the snow and began to bite out the ice that had formed between the toes。 l his was a matter of instinct。 to permit the ice to remain would mean sore feet。 it did not know this。 it merely obeyed the mysterious prompting that arose from the deep crypts of its being。 but the man knew, having achieved a judgment on the subject, and he removed the mitten from his right hand and helped tear out the ice-particles。 he did not epose his fingers more than a minute, and was astonished at the swift numbness that smote them。 it certainly was cold。 he pulled on the mitten hastily, and beat the hand savagely across his chest。
at twelve oclock the day was at its brightest。 yet the sun was too; far south an its winter journey to clear the horizon。 the bulge of the earth intervened between it arid henderson creek, where the man walked under a clear sky at noon and cast no shadow。 at half-past twelve, to the minute, he arrived at the forks of the creek。 he was。 pleased at the speed he had made。 if he kept it up, he would certainly be with the boys by si。 he unbuttoned his jacket and shirt and drew forth his lunch。 the action consumed no more than a quarter of a minute, yet in that brief moment the numbness laid hold of the eposed fingers。 he did not put the mitten on, but, instead struck the fingers a dozen sharp smashes against his leg。 then he sat down on a snow-covered log to eat。 the sting that followed upon the striking of his fingers against his leg ceased so quickly that he was startled。 he had had no chance to take a bite of biscuit。 he struck the fingers repeatedly and returned them to the mitten, baring the other hand for the purpose of eating, he tried to take a mouthful, but the ice-muzzle prevented。 he had forgotten to build a fire and thaw out。 he chuckled at his foolishness, and as he chuckled he noted the numbness creeping into the eposed fingers。 also, he noted that the stinging which had first come to his toes when he sat down was already passing away。 he wandered whether the toes were warm or numb。 he moved them inside the moccasins and decided that they were numb。
he pulled the mitten on hurriedly and stood up。 he was a bit frightened。 he stamped up and down until the stinging returned into the feet。 it certainly was cold, was his thought。 that man from sulphur creek had spoken the truth when telling how cold it sometimes got in the country。 and he had laughed at him at the time! that showed one must not be too sure of things。 there was no mistake about it, it was cold。 he strode up and down, stamping his feet and threshing his arms, until reassured by the returning warmth。 then he got out matches and proceeded to make a fire。 from the undergrowth, where high water of the previous spring had lodged a sup* of seasoned twigs, he got his firewood。 working carefully from a small beginning, he soon had a roaring fire, over which he thawed the ice from his face and in the protection of which he ate his biscuits。 for the moment the cold space was outwitted。 the dog took satisfaction in the fire, stretching out close enough for warmth and far enough away to escape being singed。
when the man had finished, be filled his pipe and took his comfortable time over a smoke。 then he pulled on his mittens, settled the ear-flaps of his cap firmly about his ears, and took the creek trail up the left fork。 the dog was disappointed and yearned back toward the fire。 this man did not know cold。 possibly all the generations of his ancestry had been ignorant of cold of real cold, of cold one hundred and seven degrees below freezing point。 but the dog knew; all its ancestry knew, and it had inherited the knowledge。 and it knew that it was not good to walk abroad in such fearful cold。 it was the time to lie snug in a hole in the snow and wait for a curtain of cloud to be drawn across the face of outer space whence this cold came。 on the other hand, there was no keen intimacy between the dog and the man。 the one was the toil-slave of the other, and the only caresses it had ever received were the caresses of the whiplash and of harsh and menacing throat-sounds that threatened the whiplash。 so, the dog made no effort to communicate its apprehension to the man。 it was not concerned in the welfare of the man, it was for its own sake that it yearned back toward the fire。 but the man whistled, and spoke to it with the sound of whiplashes and the dog swung in at the mans heel and followed after。
the man took a chew of tobacco and proceeded to start a new amber beard。 also, his moist breath quickly powdered with white his mustache, eyebrows, and lashes。 there did not seem to be so many springs on the left fork of the henderson, and for half an hour the man saw no signs of any。 and then it happened。 at a place where there were
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