瓦尔登湖:Brute Neighbors3

　　I was witness to events of a less peaceful character.  One day when I went out to my wood-pile， or rather my pile of stumps， I observed two large ants， the one red， the other much larger， nearly half an inch long， and black， fiercely contending with one another. Having once got hold they never let go， but struggled and wrestled and rolled on the chips incessantly.  Looking farther， I was surprised to find that the chips were covered with such combatants，that it was not a duellum， but a bellum， a war between two races of ants， the red always pitted against the black， and frequently two red ones to one black.  The legions of these Myrmidons covered all the hills and vales in my wood-yard， and the ground was already strewn with the dead and dying， both red and black.  It was the only battle which I have ever witnessed， the only battle-field I ever trod while the battle was raging； internecine war； the red republicans on the one hand， and the black imperialists on the other.  On every side they were engaged in deadly combat， yet without any noise that I could hear， and human soldiers never fought so resolutely.  I watched a couple that were fast locked in each other's embraces， in a little sunny valley amid the chips， now at noonday prepared to fight till the sun went down， or life went out. The smaller red champion had fastened himself like a vice to his adversary's front， and through all the tumblings on that field never for an instant ceased to gnaw at one of his feelers near the root，having already caused the other to go by the board； while the stronger black one dashed him from side to side， and， as I saw on looking nearer， had already divested him of several of his members. They fought with more pertinacity than bulldogs.  Neither manifested the least disposition to retreat.  It was evident that their battle-cry was "Conquer or die."  In the meanwhile there came along a single red ant on the hillside of this valley， evidently full of excitement， who either had despatched his foe， or had not yet taken part in the battle； probably the latter， for he had lost none of his limbs； whose mother had charged him to return with his shield or upon it.  Or perchance he was some Achilles， who had nourished his wrath apart， and had now come to avenge or rescue his Patroclus.  He saw this unequal combat from afar ―― for the blacks were nearly twice the size of the red ―― he drew near with rapid pace till be stood on his guard within half an inch of the combatants； then，watching his opportunity， he sprang upon the black warrior， and commenced his operations near the root of his right fore leg，leaving the foe to select among his own members； and so there were three united for life， as if a new kind of attraction had been invented which put all other locks and cements to shame.  I should not have wondered by this time to find that they had their respective musical bands stationed on some eminent chip， and playing their national airs the while， to excite the slow and cheer the dying combatants.  I was myself excited somewhat even as if they had been men.  The more you think of it， the less the difference.  And certainly there is not the fight recorded in Concord history， at least， if in the history of America， that will bear a moment's comparison with this， whether for the numbers engaged in it， or for the patriotism and heroism displayed.  For numbers and for carnage it was an Austerlitz or Dresden.  Concord Fight！  Two killed on the patriots' side， and Luther Blanchard wounded！  Why here every ant was a Buttrick ―― "Fire！ for God's sake fire！" ―― and thousands shared the fate of Davis and Hosmer.  There was not one hireling there.  I have no doubt that it was a principle they fought for， as much as our ancestors， and not to avoid a three-penny tax on their tea； and the results of this battle will be as important and memorable to those whom it concerns as those of the battle of Bunker Hill， at least.

　　I took up the chip on which the three I have particularly described were struggling， carried it into my house， and placed it under a tumbler on my window-sill， in order to see the issue. Holding a microscope to the first-mentioned red ant， I saw that，though he was assiduously gnawing at the near fore leg of his enemy，having severed his remaining feeler， his own breast was all torn away， exposing what vitals he had there to the jaws of the black warrior， whose breastplate was apparently too thick for him to pierce； and the dark carbuncles of the sufferer's eyes shone with ferocity such as war only could excite.  They struggled half an hour longer under the tumbler， and when I looked again the black soldier had severed the heads of his foes from their bodies， and the still living heads were hanging on either side of him like ghastly trophies at his saddle-bow， still apparently as firmly fastened as ever， and he was endeavoring with feeble struggles， being without feelers and with only the remnant of a leg， and I know not how many other wounds， to divest himself of them； which at length， after half an hour more， he accomplished.  I raised the glass， and he went off over the window-sill in that crippled state.  Whether he finally survived that combat， and spent the remainder of his days in some Hotel des Invalides， I do not know； but I thought that his industry would not be worth much thereafter.  I never learned which party was victorious， nor the cause of the war； but I felt for the rest of that day as if I had had my feelings excited and harrowed by witnessing the struggle， the ferocity and carnage， of a human battle before my door.

　　我还是目睹比较不平和的一些事件的见证人。有一天，当我走出去，到我那一堆木料，或者说，到那一堆树根去的时候，我观察到两只大蚂蚁，一只是红的，另一只大得多，几乎有半英寸长，是黑色的，正在恶斗。一交手，它们就谁也不肯放松，挣扎着，角斗着，在木片上不停止地打滚。再往远处看，我更惊奇地发现，木片上到处有这样的斗士，看来这不是决斗，而是一场战争，这两个蚁民族之间的战争，红蚂蚁总跟黑蚂蚁战斗，时常还是两个红的对付一个黑的。在我放置木料的庭院中，满坑满谷都是这些迈密登。大地上已经满布了黑的和红的死者和将死者。这是我亲眼目击的唯一的一场战争，我曾经亲临前线的唯一的激战犹酣的战场；自相残杀的战争啊，红色的共和派在一边，黑色的帝国派在另一边。两方面都奋身作殊死之战，虽然我听不到一些声音，人类的战争还从没有打得这样坚决过。我看到在和丽阳光下，木片间的小山谷中，一双战士死死抱住不放开，现在是正午，它们准备酣战到日落，或生命消逝为止。那小个儿的红色英豪，像老虎钳一样地咬住它的仇敌的脑门不放。一面在战场上翻滚，一面丝毫不放松地咬住了它的一根触须的根，已经把另一根触须咬掉了；那更强壮的黑蚂蚁呢，却把红蚂蚁从一边到另一边地甩来甩去，我走近一看，它已经把红蚂蚁的好些部分都啃去了，它们打得比恶狗还凶狠。双方都一点也不愿撤退。显然它们的战争的口号是“不战胜，毋宁死”。同时，从这山谷的顶上出现了一只孤独的红蚂蚁，它显然是非常地激动，要不是已经打死了一个敌人，便是还没有参加战斗；大约是后面的理由，因为它还没有损失一条腿；它的母亲要它拿着盾牌回去，或者躺在盾牌上回去。也许它是阿基勒斯式的英雄，独自在一旁光火着，现在来救它的普特洛克勒斯，或者替它复仇来了。它从远处看见了这不平等的战斗，――因为黑蚂蚁大于红蚂蚁将近一倍，――它急忙奔上来，直到它离开那一对战斗者只半英寸的距离，于是，它觑定了下手的机会，便扑向那黑色斗士，从它的前腿根上开始了它的军事行动，根本不顾敌人反噬它自己身上的哪一部分；于是三个为了生命纠缠在一起了，好像发明了一种新的胶合力，使任何铁锁和水泥都比不上它们。这时，如果看到它们有各自的军乐队，排列在比较突出的木片上，吹奏着各自的国歌，以激励那些落在后面的战士，并鼓舞那些垂死的战士，我也会毫不惊奇了。我自己也相当地激动，好像它们是人一样。你越研究，越觉得它们和人类并没有不同。至少在康科德的历史中，暂且不说美国的历史了，自然是没有一场大战可以跟这一场战争相比的，无论从战斗人员的数量来说，还是从它们所表现的爱国主义与英雄主义来说。论人数与残杀的程度，这是一场奥斯特利茨之战，或一场德累斯顿之战。康科德之战算什么！爱国者死了两个，而路德。布朗夏尔受了重伤！啊，这里的每一个蚂蚁，都是一个波特利克，高呼着――“射击，为了上帝的缘故，射击！”――而成千生命都像台维斯和霍斯曼尔的命运一样。这里没有一个雇佣兵。我不怀疑，它们是为了原则而战争的，正如我的祖先一样，不是为了免去三便士的茶叶税，至于这一场大战的胜负，对于参战的双方，都是如此之重要，永远不能忘记，至少像我们的邦克山之战一样。

　　我特别描写的三个战士在同一张木片上搏斗，我把这张木片拿进我的家里，放在我的窗槛上。罩在一个大杯子下面，以便考察结局。用了这显微镜，先来看那最初提起的红蚂蚁，我看到，虽然它猛咬敌人前腿的附近，又咬断了它剩下的触须，它自己的胸部却完全给那个黑色战士撕掉了，露出了内脏，而黑色战士的胸铠却太厚，它没法刺穿；这受难者的黑色眼珠发出了只有战争才能激发出来的凶狠光芒。它们在杯子下面又挣扎了半小时，等我再去看时，那黑色战士已经使它的敌人的头颅同它们的身体分了家，但是那两个依然活着的头颅，就挂在它的两边，好像挂在马鞍边上的两个可怕的战利品，依然咬住它不放。它正企图作微弱的挣扎，因为它没有了触须，而且只存一条腿的残余部分，还不知受了多少其他的伤，它挣扎着要甩掉它们；这一件事，又过了半个小时之后，总算成功了。我拿掉了玻璃杯，它就在这残废的状态下，爬过了窗槛。经过了这场战斗之后，它是否还能活着，是否把它的余生消磨在荣誉军人院中，我却不知道了；可是我想它以后是干不了什么了不起的活儿的了。我不知道后来究竟是哪方面战胜的，也不知道这场大战的原因；可是后来这一整天里我的感情就仿佛因为目击了这一场战争而激动和痛苦，仿佛就在我的门口发生过一场人类的血淋淋的恶战一样。

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