Gita stands in the snow with her guide, Mr. Fabian. It is her first day on snowshoes. The shoes are big and flat. They look like two tennis rackets under her boots.
吉塔和她的向导法比安先生站在雪地里。今天是她第一天穿雪鞋。雪鞋又大又平。它们看起来像是靴子下面绑了两只网球拍。
"Walk with your legs wide," says Mr. Fabian. "Like a duck."
“两腿要分开走，”法比安先生说，“像鸭子一样。”
Gita walks like a duck. She falls on her first step. Snow goes into her sleeve. She laughs and gets up.
吉塔像鸭子一样走路。她迈出第一步就摔倒了。雪钻进了她的袖子。她笑着站了起来。
"Good," says Mr. Fabian. "Now you know the worst part."
“很好，”法比安先生说，“现在你知道最糟的部分是什么了。”
The hut is two hours away. It is a small wooden house on a hill. There is a stove inside. The cook makes hot soup for walkers. Gita wants that soup very much.
山屋离这里有两个小时的路程。那是山丘上的一间小木屋。屋里有一个炉子。厨师为徒步的人煮热汤。吉塔非常想喝那碗汤。
The path goes up through tall trees. The snow is deep and white. Everything is quiet. Gita hears only her breath and her shoes. Crunch, crunch, crunch.
小路穿过高大的树林向上延伸。雪又深又白。四周一片安静。吉塔只听得见自己的呼吸声和脚下的雪鞋声。咯吱，咯吱，咯吱。
"Look for the orange marks," says Mr. Fabian. "They are on the trees. We follow them all day."
“找橙色的标记，”法比安先生说，“它们在树上。我们一整天都跟着它们走。”
Gita sees the first one. It is a bright orange square on a tree. Then she sees another one, and another. She feels like she plays a game.
吉塔看见了第一个。那是树上一个鲜艳的橙色方块。接着她又看见了一个，又一个。她觉得自己像是在玩一个游戏。
After an hour, Gita is warm. She takes off her hat. She puts it in her bag. Her face is red. Her legs are tired, but she feels strong.
走了一个小时后，吉塔身上暖和起来。她摘下帽子，放进包里。她的脸红红的。她的腿很累，可是她觉得自己很有力气。
They stop to drink hot tea from a bottle. A small bird sits on a branch near them. Its chest is orange, and it looks at Gita's bread.
他们停下来，喝瓶子里的热茶。一只小鸟落在他们附近的树枝上。它的胸脯是橙色的，正看着吉塔的面包。
"Give it a little," says Mr. Fabian. Gita puts a crumb on the snow. The bird jumps down, takes it, and flies away.
“给它一点吧，”法比安先生说。吉塔在雪地上放了一小块面包屑。小鸟跳下来，叼起它，飞走了。
Then the snow begins to fall. It is soft at first. Big flakes come down slowly. Gita puts out her hand and catches one.
然后雪开始下了。起初很轻柔。大片大片的雪花慢慢飘落。吉塔伸出手，接住了一片。
"Pretty," she says.
“真漂亮，”她说。
Mr. Fabian looks up at the sky. His face is serious. "The snow gets heavy," he says. "We must walk faster."
法比安先生抬头望着天空。他的神情很严肃。“雪变大了，”他说，“我们得走快一点。”
The snow falls thicker now. The trees look grey and far away. Gita cannot see the top of the hill. She looks for an orange mark. There is no mark.
雪现在下得更密了。树木看起来灰蒙蒙的，离得很远。吉塔看不见山顶。她找着橙色的标记。可是没有标记。
"Mr. Fabian?" she says. "I do not see the next one."
“法比安先生？”她说，“我看不见下一个标记。”
"Stop here," he says. "Do not go on. Look slowly."
“就停在这里，”他说，“不要往前走。慢慢地找。”
They stand still. Gita looks left, then right. Snow sticks to her eyelashes. She wipes it away and looks again. Then she sees a small orange spot. It is low on a tree, under the snow.
他们一动不动地站着。吉塔向左看，又向右看。雪粘在她的睫毛上。她把雪擦掉，再看一遍。然后她看见了一个小小的橙色斑点。它在一棵树的低处，被雪盖着。
"There!" she shouts.
“在那儿！”她喊道。
"Good eyes," says Mr. Fabian. "Snow covers the marks. Look low and high."
“眼力好，”法比安先生说，“雪会盖住标记。要低处和高处都看。”
From now on, Gita is the leader. She looks for every mark. Sometimes she finds it fast. Sometimes she looks a long time. Mr. Fabian says nothing. He only follows her.
从现在起，吉塔是领路的人。她留意着每一个标记。有时她很快就找到了。有时她找了很久。法比安先生什么也没说。他只是跟在她后面。
Finally, she smells smoke. A yellow light shines through the snow. It is the window of the hut.
终于，她闻到了烟味。一道黄色的灯光透过雪照过来。那是山屋的窗户。
The door opens. A woman in a red sweater looks out. "Two walkers!" she says. "Come in, come in. The soup is ready."
门开了。一个穿红毛衣的女人向外张望。“两位徒步的客人！”她说，“快进来，快进来。汤已经好了。”
Inside, the room is warm and smells of onions. Gita takes off her wet boots. She puts her feet near the stove. A big bowl of soup comes with bread.
屋里很暖和，有一股洋葱的香味。吉塔脱下湿透的靴子。她把脚放在炉子旁边。一大碗汤连同面包端了上来。
She eats the first spoon. It is the best soup in the world.
她喝下第一勺。那是世界上最好喝的汤。
"Tomorrow," says Mr. Fabian, "you lead the whole way down."
“明天，”法比安先生说，“下山的整条路都由你来带路。”
Gita smiles with her mouth full. "Then I need a second bowl," she says.
吉塔嘴里塞得满满的，笑了。“那我就需要再来一碗，”她说。
