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Three feet from the pit a man was standing, with an electric torch in his hand.
在离坑三英尺远的地方站了一个人，手中拿着手电筒。
You've done well, Rainsford, the voice of the general called. "Your Burmese tiger pit has claimed one of my best dogs. Again you score. I'm going home for a rest now. Thank you for a most amusing evening."
“干得好，雷恩斯福德，”将军喊道。“你的缅甸式猎虎坑弄死了我最好的一条狗。你又得手了。我现在要回家休息了。多谢你，这一夜玩得很有趣。”
At daybreak Rainsford was awakened by a sound that made him know that he had new things to learn about fear. It was a distant sound, but he knew it. It was the baying of a pack of hounds.
拂晓时分，雷恩斯福德被一阵声响吵醒，这声响让他领教了什么才叫恐惧。那声音很远，但他知道是什么，是一群猎狗的叫声。
Rainsford knew he could do one of two things. He could stay where he was and wait. That was suicide. He could flee. That was postponing the inevitable. For a moment he stood there, thinking. An idea that held a wild chance came to him and, tightening his belt, he headed away from the swamp.
雷恩斯福德知道自己只有两种选择，其一是待在原地继续等待，那无疑等于自杀；其二，他可以逃跑。那也不过是推迟不可避免的死亡罢了。他站在那里思考了一会儿。突然，他想到了一个主意。尽管希望不大，他还是勒紧腰带，转身离开沼泽。
The baying of the hounds drew nearer and nearer. On a ridge Rainsford climbed a tree. About a quarter of a mile away, he could see the bush moving. Straining his eyes, he saw the lean figure of the general; just ahead of him he made out another figure; it was the giant Ivan; Rainsford knew that he must be holding the pack in leash.
猎狗的叫声越来越近。雷恩斯福德爬到山脊的一棵树上。他可以看到大约四分之一英里开外的树丛在摆动。他极目远眺，看到了将军那精瘦的身影，而在将军前面有另一个身影也映入眼帘，他可以认出那是巨人伊万。雷恩斯福德知道，他肯定正用皮带牵着猎狗。
They would be on him any minute now. His mind worked frantically. He thought of a native trick he had learned in Uganda. He slid down the tree. He caught hold of a springy young sapling and to it he fastened his hunting knife, with the blade pointed down the trail; with a bit of wild grapevine he tied back the sapling.
猎狗现在随时都会扑到自己身上，他的大脑疯狂地运转着。他想起了在乌干达学会的一种土著把戏，于是他滑到树下。他抓住一棵有弹性的小树，把猎刀绑在树上，刀刃冲着小道，用一些野葡萄藤将小树反捆起来。
