English Original
Jed reached the mountaintop and sat to rest, weary from the long climb under the hot July sun. He knew the horse he sought couldn't be far. Scanning the valleys below, he spotted its tracks descending the far side. He was determined to capture it, though better men—like Tom Raglan, the state's best rancher, and his cowboys—had tried and failed, declaring the animal too wild to be caught.
After a painful descent, Jed drank from a cool river. Further down the valley, he saw the black horse standing in the shade of a tree. He hid and watched. It was the largest, blackest horse he had ever seen. Jed, who had grown up caring for horses, dreamed of owning a stallion and a mare with some land to breed and sell them. That was all the happiness he desired.
Night fell. The horse moved to graze by the river. Jed watched before finding a soft spot to sleep. At dawn, he found it grazing again, ever alert—a true mark of the wild. Jed approached. The horse stopped eating and watched him. Jed's heart pounded, for men called it a killer. Still, he moved closer until, fifteen meters away, the horse reared, then screamed and galloped down the valley. Jed sank to the ground, exhilarated. He had come closer than anyone; the horse was no killer.
For six days, Jed followed, resting when it rested. The terrain grew treacherous: high valley walls strewn with boulders, few trees, and a soft, wet floor. One night, thunder and rain awoke him. The next day was cold and wet, the valley floor softened by rain. Toward evening, he saw the horse again, but this time it smelled danger, its nostrils flaring.
Jed thought of a wildcat or bear and drew his knife. As he cautiously approached the horse, the silence shattered. The horse screamed in fear and bolted. Simultaneously, a deep rumble came from the rocks. A landslide—tons of wet earth and stone—crashed down the mountainside.
When the air cleared, Jed climbed over the fallen debris. On the other side, the horse was trapped, its legs sunk deep in mud. The more it struggled, the deeper it sank. Jed moved carefully; the mud tried to suck him down too. When he reached the horse, it was buried up to its stomach, able to move only its head. Overjoyed to touch it, Jed said, "Don't struggle. I'll get you out!"
Suddenly, the horse bit his arm. Jed bit his lip to stay silent, calming the animal with his free hand until it released him. It then pressed its nose to his face. They were friends at last.
Jed studied the problem. He couldn't lift the horse; his rope was too weak. He began digging mud with his hands, but the holes refilled. He ran to the landslide rocks, filled his shirt with them, and dug again, this time placing rocks in the holes to form a stable wall. He worked all day until his hands were bloody from the sharp stones.
Knowing night would frighten the horse, he cut small trees for bedding and spent the night speaking soft, calming words. At dawn, he brought grass for the horse and resumed his slow, hard labor. By the next afternoon, he had built a rock wall on one side and dug near the horse's front legs. The rocks firmed the mud, allowing the horse to move slightly. As pressure eased, it placed one front hoof on the rocks, pushed against the wall, and lifted its body a little.
Jed tied his rope around the horse's neck and pulled. The horse fought with all its might, raising its other front leg and pushing with its hind legs. Together, they moved toward solid ground. Jed collapsed, exhausted and hungry after three days with little food or sleep. Half-asleep, he felt the horse's nose nudge his face. He jumped up, fetched grass, and the horse responded with friendly noises and playful pushes.
A week later, a big black horse stopped near Tom Raglan's ranch house. A small man dismounted. Raglan stared in disbelief. "You got him."
"I got him, Tom, just as I said I would."
Raglan, a horseman himself, needed no explanation; Jed's tired face, torn hands, dirty clothes, and thin frame told the story. "Jed," he said, "that horse will kill anyone but you. I don't want it, but I haven't forgotten my promise. I'll give you some land and the old house behind the ranch if you keep him there. I'll pay you thirty a month if you let me breed my mares to him. I want his bloodline. You can keep every seventh foal for yourself."
Jed put his arm around the black horse. It was his. His dream had come true—all at once, it was almost too much.
中文翻译
杰德登上山顶，坐下休息。七月炎热的太阳和漫长的攀登让他疲惫不堪。他知道自己要抓的那匹马不会太远。他扫视着下方的山谷，发现了马蹄印通向山的另一侧。他决心要抓住它，尽管更厉害的人——比如州里最好的牧场主汤姆·拉格兰和他的牛仔们——都尝试过并失败了，宣称这匹马太野，不可能被捕获。
艰难地下山后，杰德在一条凉爽的河边喝了水。沿着山谷往下，他看到了那匹黑马站在树荫下。他躲起来观察。这是他见过的最高大、最乌黑的马。杰德是照顾马匹长大的，他梦想着拥有一匹公马、一匹母马和一些土地，用来繁殖和售卖马匹。这就是他全部的幸福所在。
夜幕降临。黑马移动到河边吃草。杰德观察了一会儿，找了个柔软的地方睡下。黎明时分，他发现马又在吃草，始终保持着警惕——这是野性的标志。杰德靠近。马停止吃草，看着他。杰德的心怦怦直跳，因为人们说它是匹杀人的马。但他仍然继续靠近，直到相距十五米时，马扬起前蹄，然后发出一声长嘶，向山谷下奔去。杰德瘫坐在地上，兴奋不已。他比任何人都更接近这匹马；它并非杀手。
接下来的六天，杰德一直跟着它，马休息时他也休息。地势变得险恶：山谷两侧是高耸的岩壁，布满巨石，树木稀少，谷底柔软潮湿。一天夜里，他被雷雨惊醒。第二天寒冷潮湿，谷底被雨水泡得更软。临近傍晚，他又看到了马，但这次马嗅到了危险，鼻孔张得老大。
杰德想到可能是山猫或熊，于是拔出了刀。当他小心翼翼地靠近马时，寂静被打破了。马发出恐惧的嘶鸣，猛地跑开。与此同时，岩石中传来低沉的隆隆声。山体滑坡了——成吨的湿土和石头从山坡上倾泻而下。
尘埃落定后，杰德爬过塌方的碎石。另一边，马被困住了，腿深深陷在泥沼里。它越挣扎，陷得越深。杰德小心地移动；泥沼也想把他吸下去。当他够到马时，泥巴已经埋到了它的腹部，只有头还能动。终于摸到了马，杰德欣喜若狂，说道：“别挣扎，我会救你出来的！”
突然，马咬住了他的胳膊。杰德咬住嘴唇不让自己叫出声，用另一只手轻轻安抚这动物，直到它松口。然后，马把鼻子贴到他的脸上。他们终于成了朋友。
杰德仔细研究了困境。他无法把马拉出来；他的绳子不够结实。他开始用手挖泥，但挖出的洞又被填满。他跑到滑坡的石头堆，用衬衫包了些石头回来，再次挖掘，这次他把石头填进挖出的洞里，形成一道稳固的墙。他干了一整天，双手被尖利的石头划得鲜血淋漓。
他知道夜晚会让马害怕，便砍了些小树铺在旁边，整夜对它说着轻柔安抚的话。天亮时，他给马带来了草，继续缓慢而艰苦的工作。第二天下午，他在马的一侧筑好了石墙，并开始挖马前腿附近的泥。石头让泥变硬了些，马可以稍微移动了。随着压力减小，它将一只前蹄踏在石头上，抵着侧面的墙，把身体抬高了一点。
杰德把绳子套在马脖子上开始拉。马也使出全力挣扎，抬起另一只前腿，后腿用力蹬。他们一起向坚实的陆地移动。杰德筋疲力尽地倒在地上，三天没怎么吃喝睡觉。半梦半醒间，他感到马的鼻子在蹭他的脸。他跳起来，拿来草，马发出友好的声音，顽皮地推了推他。
一周后，一匹高大的黑马停在汤姆·拉格兰的牧场房子附近。一个小个子男人从马背上下来。拉格兰难以置信地看着。“你抓到它了。”
“我抓到它了，汤姆，就像我说过的那样。”
拉格兰自己也是个懂马的人，无需杰德解释；杰德疲惫的面容、划破的双手、肮脏的衣服和瘦削的身躯说明了一切。“杰德，”他说，“除了你，这匹马会杀了任何人。我不想要它，但我没忘记我的承诺。如果你把它养在那里，我会给你一些地和牧场后面的旧房子。如果你允许我把我的母马带来配种，我每月付你三十块钱。我想要它的血统。每七匹小马驹，你可以留一匹给自己。”
杰德用手臂搂住黑马。它是他的了。他的梦想成真了——这一切来得太快，几乎让他难以承受。