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VOA Short Stories., The Law of Life

The Law of Life

Now, the VOA Special English Program, AMERICAN STORIES.

(MUSIC)

Our story today is called “The Law of Life.” It was written by Jack London. Here is Shep O'Neal with the story.

SHEP O'NEAL: The old Indian was sitting in the snow. It was Koskoosh, former chief of his tribe. Now, all he could do was sit and listen to the others. His eyes were old. He could not see, but his ears were wide open to every sound.

“Aha.” That was the sound of his daughter, Sit-cum-to-ha. She was beating the dogs, trying to make them stand in front of the snow sleds. He was forgotten by her, and by the others, too. They had to look for new hunting grounds. The long, snowy ride waited. The days of the northlands were growing short. The tribe could not wait for death. Koskoosh was dying.

The stiff, crackling noises of frozen animal skins told him that the chief's tent was being torn down. The chief was a mighty hunter. He was his son, the son of Koskoosh. Koskoosh was being left to die.

As the women worked, old Koskoosh could hear his son's voice drive them to work faster. He listened harder. It was the last time he would hear that voice. A child cried, and a woman sang softly to quiet it. The child was Koo-tee, the old man thought, a sickly child. It would die soon, and they would burn a hole in the frozen ground to bury it. They would cover its small body with stones to keep the wolves away.

“Well, what of it? A few years, and in the end, death. Death waited ever hungry. Death had the hungriest stomach of all.”

Koskoosh listened to other sounds he would hear no more: the men tying strong leather rope around the sleds to hold their belongings; the sharp sounds of leather whips, ordering the dogs to move and pull the sleds.

“Listen to the dogs cry. How they hated the work.”

They were off. Sled after sled moved slowly away into the silence. They had passed out of his life. He must meet his last hour alone.

“But what was that?” The snow packed down hard under someone's shoes. A man stood beside him, and placed a hand gently on his old head. His son was good to do this. He remembered other old men whose sons had not done this, who had left without a goodbye.

His mind traveled into the past until his son's voice brought him back. “It is well with you?” his son asked. And the old man answered, “It is well.”

“There is wood next to you and the fire burns bright,” the son said. “The morning is gray and the cold is here. It will snow soon. Even now it is snowing. Ahh, even now it is snowing.

“The tribesmen hurry. Their loads are heavy and their stomachs flat from little food. The way is long and they travel fast. I go now. All is well?”

“It is well. I am as last year's leaf that sticks to the tree. The first breath that blows will knock me to the ground. My voice is like an old woman's. My eyes no longer show me the way my feet go. I am tired and all is well.”

He lowered his head to his chest and listened to the snow as his son rode away. He felt the sticks of wood next to him again. One by one, the fire would eat them. And step by step, death would cover him. When the last stick was gone, the cold would come. First, his feet would freeze. Then, his hands. The cold would travel slowly from the outside to the inside of him, and he would rest. It was easy…all men must die.

He felt sorrow, but he did not think of his sorrow. It was the way of life. He had lived close to the earth, and the law was not new to him. It was the law of the body. Nature was not kind to the body. She was not thoughtful of the person alone. She was interested only in the group, the race, the species.

This was a deep thought for old Koskoosh. He had seen examples of it in all his life. The tree sap in early spring; the new-born green leaf, soft and fresh as skin; the fall of the yellowed, dry leaf. In this alone was all history.

He placed another stick on the fire and began to remember his past. He had been a great chief, too. He had seen days of much food and laughter; fat stomachs when food was left to rot and spoil; times when they left animals alone, unkilled; days when women had many children. And he had seen days of no food and empty stomachs, days when the fish did not come, and the animals were hard to find.

For seven years the animals did not come. Then, he remembered when as a small boy how he watched the wolves kill a moose. He was with his friend Zing-ha, who was killed later in the Yukon River.

Ah, but the moose. Zing-ha and he had gone out to play that day. Down by the river they saw fresh steps of a big, heavy moose. “He's an old one,” Zing-ha had said. “He cannot run like the others. He has fallen behind. The wolves have separated him from the others. They will never leave him.”

And so it was. By day and night, never stopping, biting at his nose, biting at his feet, the wolves stayed with him until the end.

Zing-ha and he had felt the blood quicken in their bodies. The end would be a sight to see.

They had followed the steps of the moose and the wolves. Each step told a different story. They could see the tragedy as it happened: here was the place the moose stopped to fight. The snow was packed down for many feet. One wolf had been caught by the heavy feet of the moose and kicked to death. Further on, they saw how the moose had struggled to escape up a hill. But the wolves had attacked from behind. The moose had fallen down and crushed two wolves. Yet, it was clear the end was near.

The snow was red ahead of them. Then they heard the sounds of battle. He and Zing-ha moved closer, on their stomachs, so the wolves would not see them. They saw the end. The picture was so strong it had stayed with him all his life. His dull, blind eyes saw the end again as they had in the far off past.

For long, his mind saw his past. The fire began to die out, and the cold entered his body. He placed two more sticks on it, just two more left. This would be how long he would live.

It was very lonely. He placed one of the last pieces of wood on the fire. Listen, what a strange noise for wood to make in the fire. No, it wasn't wood. His body shook as he recognized the sound…wolves.

The cry of a wolf brought the picture of the old moose back to him again. He saw the body torn to pieces, with fresh blood running on the snow. He saw the clean bones lying gray against the frozen blood. He saw the rushing forms of the gray wolves, their shining eyes, their long wet tongues and sharp teeth. And he saw them form a circle and move ever slowly closer and closer.

A cold, wet nose touched his face. At the touch, his soul jumped forward to awaken him. His hand went to the fire and he pulled a burning stick from it. The wolf saw the fire, but was not afraid. It turned and howled into the air to his brother wolves. They answered with hunger in their throats, and came running.

The old Indian listened to the hungry wolves. He heard them form a circle around him and his small fire. He waved his burning stick at them, but they did not move away. Now, one of them moved closer, slowly, as if to test the old man's strength. Another and another followed. The circle grew smaller and smaller. Not one wolf stayed behind.

Why should he fight? Why cling to life? And he dropped his stick with the fire on the end of it. It fell in the snow and the light went out.

The circle of wolves moved closer. Once again the old Indian saw the picture of the moose as it struggled before the end came. He dropped his head to his knees. What did it matter after all? Isn't this the law of life?

(MUSIC)

FAITH LAPIDUS: You have just heard the American story “The Law of Life.” It was written by Jack London. Your storyteller was Shep O'Neal. Listen again next week for another American story in V.O.A. Special English. I'm Faith Lapidus.


The Law of Life La loi de la vie 生命の法則 Gyvenimo įstatymas A lei da vida Закон жизни Yaşam Yasası Закон життя 生命法则

Now, the VOA Special English Program, AMERICAN STORIES. Nyní, speciální anglický program VOA, AMERICKÉ PŘÍBĚHY. Специальная программа VOA на английском языке "АМЕРИКАНСКИЕ ИСТОРИИ".

(MUSIC)

Our story today is called “The Law of Life.”  It was written by Jack London. 今日の私たちの物語は「生命の法則」と呼ばれています。ジャック・ロンドンによって書かれました。 Here is Shep O’Neal with the story. これがシェプ・オニールのストーリーです。

SHEP O’NEAL:  The old Indian was sitting in the snow. シェップ・オニール:古いインディアンが雪の中に座っていた。 ШЕП О'НИЛ: Старый индеец сидел в снегу. It was Koskoosh, former chief of his tribe. Byl to Koskoosh, bývalý šéf jeho kmene. それは、彼の部族の元首長であったコスクーシュでした。 그의 부족의 전 족장 Koskoosh였습니다. Это был Коскуш, бывший вождь его племени. Now, all he could do was sit and listen to the others. Nyní mohl jen sedět a poslouchat ostatní. 今、彼ができることは、座って他の人の話を聞くことだけでした。 His eyes were old. Jeho oči byly staré. 彼の目は古かった。 He could not see, but his ears were wide open to every sound. Neviděl, ale jeho uši byly doširoka otevřené každému zvuku. 彼は見ることができませんでしたが、彼の耳はすべての音に大きく開いていました。 그는 볼 수 없었지만 그의 귀는 모든 소리에 활짝 열려있었습니다.

“Aha.” That was the sound of his daughter, Sit-cum-to-ha. "Aha." To byl zvuk jeho dcery, Sit-cum-to-ha. 「ああ」それは彼の娘、シットカムトゥーハの音でした。 "아하." 그것은 그의 딸 Sit-cum-to-ha의 소리였습니다. She was beating the dogs, trying to make them stand in front of the snow sleds. Porazila psy a snažila se je postavit před sněhové sáňky. She was beating the dogs, trying to make them stand in front of the snow sleds. 彼女は犬を倒し、雪そりの前に立たせようとしていた。 Она била собак, пытаясь заставить их стоять перед санями. He was forgotten by her, and by the others, too. Zapomněl na ni i na ostatní. 彼は彼女に、そして他の人にも忘れられました。 Он был забыт ею, да и остальными тоже. They had to look for new hunting grounds. Museli hledat nová lovecká pole. 彼らは新しい狩猟場を探す必要がありました。 Им пришлось искать новые охотничьи угодья. The long, snowy ride waited. Dlouhá zasněžená jízda čekala. 長く雪に覆われた乗り物が待っていました。 Долгая снежная дорога ждала. The days of the northlands were growing short. Dny severních zemí se krátily. ノースランドの時代は短くなりました。 Дни северных земель становились короче. The tribe could not wait for death. Kmen nemohl čekat na smrt. 部族は死を待つことができませんでした。 Племя не могло дождаться смерти. Koskoosh was dying. Koskoosh umírá. Koskooshは死にかけていました。 Коскуш умирал.

The stiff, crackling noises of frozen animal skins told him that the chief’s tent was being torn down. Tuhé, praskající zvuky zmrzlých zvířecích kůží mu řekly, že hlavní stan byl zničen. 凍った動物の皮の固くてパチパチという音は、首長のテントが取り壊されていることを彼に告げました。 Жесткий треск замороженных шкур животных подсказал ему, что палатку вождя сносят. The chief was a mighty hunter. Šéf byl mocný lovec. チーフは強力なハンターでした。 Вождь был могучим охотником. He was his son, the son of Koskoosh. Byl to jeho syn, syn Koskoosh. 彼は彼の息子、Koskooshの息子でした。 Он был его сыном, сыном Коскуша. Koskoosh was being left to die. Koskoosh nechal zemřít. Koskooshは死ぬことを余儀なくされていました。 Коскуша оставили умирать.

As the women worked, old Koskoosh could hear his son’s voice drive them to work faster. Když ženy pracovaly, starý Koskoosh slyšel, jak je hlas jeho syna nutí pracovat rychleji. 女性が働いている間、古いKoskooshは、息子の声が女性をより速く働かせるのを聞くことができました。 Пока женщины работали, старый Коскуш слышал, как голос сына заставляет их работать быстрее. He listened harder. Těžce poslouchal. 彼はもっとよく聞いた。 Он прислушался. It was the last time he would hear that voice. Bylo to naposledy, co ten hlas slyšel. 彼がその声を聞くのはこれが最後だった。 Это был последний раз, когда он слышал этот голос. A child cried, and a woman sang softly to quiet it. Křičelo dítě a žena tiše zpívala, aby to uklidnila. 子供が泣き、女性がそっと歌って静かにしました。 Ребенок плакал, и женщина тихонько пела, чтобы его успокоить. The child was Koo-tee, the old man thought, a sickly child. Dítě bylo Koo-tee, pomyslel si starý muž, nemocné dítě. その子はクーティーで、老人は病弱な子だと思った。 Ребенок был Ку-ти, подумал старик, болезненный ребенок. It would die soon, and they would burn a hole in the frozen ground to bury it. Brzy zemře a spálili díru ve zmrzlé zemi, aby ji pochovali. それはすぐに死に、彼らはそれを埋めるために凍った地面に穴を燃やしました。 Он скоро умрет, и они прожгут яму в мерзлой земле, чтобы похоронить его. They would cover its small body with stones to keep the wolves away. Zakryli jeho malé tělo kameny, aby vlky drželi dál. 彼らはオオカミを遠ざけるためにその小さな体を石で覆いました。

“Well, what of it? "No a co to?" 「まあ、それは何ですか? «Ну и что? A few years, and in the end, death. Pár let a nakonec smrt. 数年、そして最終的には死。 Несколько лет и, в конце концов, смерть. Death waited ever hungry. Smrt čekala, kdy měl hlad. 死は空腹を待っていた。 Смерть ждала вечно голодного. Death had the hungriest stomach of all.” Smrt měla nejhladovější žaludek ze všech. “ 死はすべての中で最も空腹だった。」

Koskoosh listened to other sounds he would hear no more: the men tying strong leather rope around the sleds to hold their belongings; the sharp sounds of leather whips, ordering the dogs to move and pull the sleds. Koskoosh poslouchal další zvuky, které už neslyšel: muži uvázající kolem sáně silné kožené lano, aby drželi své věci; ostré zvuky kožených bičů, které přikazují psům pohybovat se a táhnout sáně. Koskooshは、もう聞こえないであろう他の音を聞きました。男性は、そりの周りに強い革のロープを結び、持ち物を保持しました。革の鞭の鋭い音が、犬にそりを動かして引っ張るように命じます。

“Listen to the dogs cry. "Poslouchejte pláč psů." «Послушайте, как плачут собаки. How they hated the work.” Jak nenáviděli práci. “

They were off. Byli pryč. Они были выключены. Sled after sled moved slowly away into the silence. Sáňkování za saněmi pomalu odcházelo do ticha. Сани за сани медленно уходили в тишину. They had passed out of his life. Prošli z jeho života. Они ушли из его жизни. He must meet his last hour alone. Musí se setkat se svou poslední hodinou sám.

“But what was that?” The snow packed down hard under someone’s shoes. "Ale co to bylo?" Sníh se tvrdě sbalil pod něčí boty. — Но что это было? Снег сильно утрамбовывался под чьими-то ботинками. A man stood beside him, and placed a hand gently on his old head. Vedle něj stál muž a jemně položil ruku na jeho starou hlavu. Рядом с ним встал мужчина и нежно положил руку на его старую голову. His son was good to do this. Jeho syn to udělal dobře. Его сын умел это делать. He remembered other old men whose sons had not done this, who had left without a goodbye. Vzpomněl si na jiné staré muže, jejichž synové to neudělali, kteří odešli bez rozloučení.

His mind traveled into the past until his son’s voice brought him back. Jeho mysl cestovala do minulosti, dokud ho hlas jeho syna nevrátil zpět. “It is well with you?” his son asked. „Je to s tebou dobře?“ Zeptal se jeho syn. — С тобой все в порядке? — спросил его сын. And the old man answered, “It is well.” A starý muž odpověděl: „To je v pořádku.“ И старик ответил: «Хорошо».

“There is wood next to you and the fire burns bright,” the son said. "Vedle tebe je dřevo a oheň hoří jasně," řekl syn. “The morning is gray and the cold is here. "Ráno je šedé a zima je tady." «Утро серое, и холод здесь. It will snow soon. Brzy bude sněžit. Even now it is snowing. I teď sněží. Ahh, even now it is snowing. Ahh, i teď sněží.

“The tribesmen hurry. Their loads are heavy and their stomachs flat from little food. Jejich břemena jsou těžká a žaludky ploché od malého jídla. Их грузы тяжелы, а их животы плоские от небольшого количества пищи. The way is long and they travel fast. Cesta je dlouhá a cestují rychle. I go now. Jdu teď. All is well?” Vše je v pořádku?"

“It is well. "To je dobře. I am as last year’s leaf that sticks to the tree. Jsem jako loňský list, který se drží stromu. Я как прошлогодний лист, прилипший к дереву. The first breath that blows will knock me to the ground. První dech, který fouká, mě klepe na zem. Первый вздох сбивает меня с ног. My voice is like an old woman’s. Můj hlas je jako stará žena. My eyes no longer show me the way my feet go. Moje oči už mi neukazují, jak chodí moje nohy. I am tired and all is well.” Jsem unavený a vše je v pořádku. “

He lowered his head to his chest and listened to the snow as his son rode away. Sklonil hlavu k hrudi a poslouchal sníh, když jeho syn odjel. He felt the sticks of wood next to him again. Znovu ucítil hůlky dřeva vedle něj. Он снова почувствовал рядом с собой деревянные палки. One by one, the fire would eat them. Jeden po druhém je oheň snědl. Одну за другой огонь пожирал их. And step by step, death would cover him. A krok za krokem ho smrt pokryje. И шаг за шагом смерть накрывала его. When the last stick was gone, the cold would come. Když byla poslední hůl pryč, přijela zima. Когда исчезнет последняя палка, наступят холода. First, his feet would freeze. Nejprve mu nohy zamrzly. Then, his hands. Pak jeho ruce. The cold would travel slowly from the outside to the inside of him, and he would rest. Chlad se pohyboval pomalu z vnějšku dovnitř a on odpočíval. It was easy…all men must die. Bylo to snadné ... všichni muži musí zemřít. Это было легко… все люди должны умереть.

He felt sorrow, but he did not think of his sorrow. Cítil smutek, ale nepomyslel na jeho smutek. Он чувствовал печаль, но не думал о своей печали. It was the way of life. Byl to způsob života. He had lived close to the earth, and the law was not new to him. Žil blízko Země a zákon pro něj nebyl nový. Он жил близко к земле, и закон не был для него новым. It was the law of the body. Byl to zákon těla. Это был закон тела. Nature was not kind to the body. Příroda nebyla k tělu laskavá. Природа не была добра к телу. She was not thoughtful of the person alone. Na samotnou osobu nemyslela. Она не думала только об этом человеке. She was interested only in the group, the race, the species. Zajímala se pouze o skupinu, rasu, druh.

This was a deep thought for old Koskoosh. Это была глубокая мысль для старого Коскуша. He had seen examples of it in all his life. Příklady toho viděl po celý svůj život. Он видел примеры этого на протяжении всей своей жизни. The tree sap in early spring; the new-born green leaf, soft and fresh as skin; the fall of the yellowed, dry leaf. Míza stromu brzy na jaře; nově narozený zelený list, měkký a svěží jako kůže; pád zažloutlého suchého listu. Сок дерева ранней весной; рождающийся зеленый лист, мягкий и свежий, как кожа; падение пожелтевшего, сухого листа. In this alone was all history. V tom samém byla celá historie. Только в этом была вся история.

He placed another stick on the fire and began to remember his past. Položil další palici na oheň a začal si pamatovat svou minulost. He had been a great chief, too. Byl také velkým náčelníkem. He had seen days of much food and laughter; fat stomachs when food was left to rot and spoil; times when they left animals alone, unkilled; days when women had many children. Viděl dny hodně jídla a smíchu; tukové žaludky, když se jídlo nechalo hniet a kazit; časy, kdy nechali zvířata na pokoji, bez zabití; dny, kdy ženy měly mnoho dětí. Он видел дни, когда было много еды и смеха; толстые желудки, когда пища оставлялась гнить и портиться; времена, когда они оставляли животных одних, неубитыми; дни, когда у женщин было много детей. And he had seen days of no food and empty stomachs, days when the fish did not come, and the animals were hard to find. A viděl dny bez jídla a prázdných žaludků, dny, kdy ryby nepřicházely, a zvířata byla těžko k nalezení. Он видел дни без еды и с пустыми желудками, дни, когда рыба не ловилась, а животных было трудно найти.

For seven years the animals did not come. Sedm let zvířata nepřicházela. Then, he remembered when as a small boy how he watched the wolves kill a moose. Pak si vzpomněl, když jako malý chlapec sledoval, jak vlci zabíjejí los. Затем он вспомнил, как маленьким мальчиком наблюдал за тем, как волки убивали лося. He was with his friend Zing-ha, who was killed later in the Yukon River. Byl se svým přítelem Zing-ha, který byl později zabit v řece Yukon.

Ah, but the moose. Ah, ale los. А, но лось. Zing-ha and he had gone out to play that day. Zing-ha a ten den šel hrát. В тот день они с Цзын-ха отправились поиграть. Down by the river they saw fresh steps of a big, heavy moose. Dole u řeky viděli čerstvé kroky velké, těžké losy. “He’s an old one,” Zing-ha had said. "Je to starý," řekl Zing-ha. “He cannot run like the others. "Nemůže běžet jako ostatní." He has fallen behind. Zůstal pozadu. Он отстал. The wolves have separated him from the others. Vlci ho oddělili od ostatních. Волки отделили его от остальных. They will never leave him.” Nikdy ho neopustí. “

And so it was. A tak to bylo. By day and night, never stopping, biting at his nose, biting at his feet, the wolves stayed with him until the end. Ve dne i v noci se vlci nikdy nepřestávali, kousali si do nosu, kousali se do jeho nohou a vlci zůstali s ním až do konce.

Zing-ha and he had felt the blood quicken in their bodies. Zing-ha a cítil, jak se krev v jejich tělech zrychluje. Зинг-ха и он почувствовали, как кровь в их телах забегает. The end would be a sight to see. Konec by byl pohled vidět.

They had followed the steps of the moose and the wolves. Sledovali kroky losy a vlků. Each step told a different story. Každý krok vyprávěl jiný příběh. They could see the tragedy as it happened: here was the place the moose stopped to fight. Tragédii viděli, jak se to stalo: tady bylo místo, kde se los zastavil v boji. The snow was packed down for many feet. Sníh byl sbírán na mnoho nohou. Снег был уложен на много футов. One wolf had been caught by the heavy feet of the moose and kicked to death. Jeden vlk byl chycen těžkými nohama losy a kopal k smrti. Один волк был пойман тяжелыми ногами лося и забит ногой до смерти. Further on, they saw how the moose had struggled to escape up a hill. Dále uviděli, jak se losa snažila uniknout z kopce. But the wolves had attacked from behind. Ale vlci zaútočili zezadu. The moose had fallen down and crushed two wolves. Los padl na zem a rozdrtil dva vlky. Лось упал и раздавил двух волков. Yet, it was clear the end was near. Přesto bylo jasné, že konec je blízko.

The snow was red ahead of them. Před nimi byl sníh červený. Then they heard the sounds of battle. Pak zaslechli zvuky bitvy. He and Zing-ha moved closer, on their stomachs, so the wolves would not see them. Spolu se Zing-ha se přiblížili břichem, aby je vlci neviděli. They saw the end. Viděli konec. The picture was so strong it had stayed with him all his life. Obrázek byl tak silný, že s ním zůstal celý život. His dull, blind eyes saw the end again as they had in the far off past. Jeho slepé, slepé oči znovu viděly konec, jako tomu bylo v dávné minulosti. Его тусклые, слепые глаза снова увидели конец, как и в далеком прошлом.

For long, his mind saw his past. Jeho mysl dlouho viděla jeho minulost. Его разум долго видел свое прошлое. The fire began to die out, and the cold entered his body. Oheň začal mizet a do jeho těla vstoupila chlad. He placed two more sticks on it, just two more left. Položil na ni další dvě tyčinky, další dvě zbyly. Он положил на нее еще две палки, осталось еще две. This would be how long he would live. To by bylo, jak dlouho bude žít.

It was very lonely. Bylo to velmi osamělé. He placed one of the last pieces of wood on the fire. Položil jeden z posledních kusů dřeva na oheň. Listen, what a strange noise for wood to make in the fire. Poslouchejte, jaký divný hluk se dřevo v ohni vydává. No, it wasn’t wood. Ne, nebylo to dřevo. His body shook as he recognized the sound…wolves. Jeho tělo se otřáslo, když poznal zvuk ... vlky.

The cry of a wolf brought the picture of the old moose back to him again. Výkřik vlka mu znovu přinesl obraz staré losy. He saw the body torn to pieces, with fresh blood running on the snow. Viděl tělo roztrhané na kousky, s čerstvou krví tekoucí na sněhu. He saw the clean bones lying gray against the frozen blood. Viděl, jak čisté kosti leží šedě proti zmrzlé krvi. Он увидел чистые кости, серые на фоне застывшей крови. He saw the rushing forms of the gray wolves, their shining eyes, their long wet tongues and sharp teeth. Viděl spěchající formy šedých vlků, jejich zářící oči, dlouhé mokré jazyky a ostré zuby. And he saw them form a circle and move ever slowly closer and closer. A viděl je, jak tvoří kruh a pohybují se stále pomalu blíž a blíž.

A cold, wet nose touched his face. Jeho tvář se dotkl chladný mokrý nos. At the touch, his soul jumped forward to awaken him. Na dotek jeho duše vyskočila dopředu, aby ho probudila. От прикосновения его душа подпрыгнула, чтобы разбудить его. His hand went to the fire and he pulled a burning stick from it. Jeho ruka šla do ohně a vytáhl ho z hořící palice. The wolf saw the fire, but was not afraid. Vlk viděl oheň, ale nebál se. It turned and howled into the air to his brother wolves. Otočil se a vytíhal do vzduchu ke svému bratrovi vlkům. They answered with hunger in their throats, and came running. Odpověděli hladem v hrdle a utíkali. Они ответили голодом в горле и прибежали.

The old Indian listened to the hungry wolves. Starý Ind poslouchal hladové vlky. He heard them form a circle around him and his small fire. Slyšel, jak kolem něj a jeho malého ohně tvoří kruh. He waved his burning stick at them, but they did not move away. Mávl na ně svou hořící palicí, ale neodtáhli se. Now, one of them moved closer, slowly, as if to test the old man’s strength. Nyní se jeden z nich pomalu přiblížil, jako by vyzkoušel sílu starého muže. Another and another followed. Následuje další a další. The circle grew smaller and smaller. Kruh se zmenšoval a zmenšoval. Not one wolf stayed behind. Žádný vlk nezůstal pozadu.

Why should he fight? Proč by měl bojovat? Why cling to life? And he dropped his stick with the fire on the end of it. A házel palcem s ohněm na konec. It fell in the snow and the light went out. Padl do sněhu a světlo zhaslo.

The circle of wolves moved closer. Kruh vlků se přiblížil. Once again the old Indian saw the picture of the moose as it struggled before the end came. Starý Ind znovu viděl obrázek losy, když zápasil před tím, než přišel konec. He dropped his head to his knees. Sklonil hlavu na kolena. What did it matter after all? Co na tom nakonec záleželo? В конце концов, какое это имело значение? Isn’t this the law of life? Není to zákon života?

(MUSIC)

FAITH LAPIDUS: You have just heard the American story “The Law of Life.”  It was written by Jack London. Your storyteller was Shep O’Neal. Listen again next week for another American story in V.O.A. Special English. I’m Faith Lapidus.