Bianka walked up to a mountain hut on a sunny Saturday. She was tired, so she sat inside and drank hot tea. On the table was the guestbook. She opened it for fun.
一个阳光明媚的星期六，比安卡走到了一间山间小屋。她累了，就坐在屋里喝热茶。桌上放着留言簿。她出于好玩翻开了它。
On one page, she saw a small fox. Under it was a date from ten years ago. She turned the page. A year later, she found the same fox again.
在其中一页上，她看到了一只小狐狸。它下面写着十年前的日期。她翻到下一页。一年后，她又看到了同样的狐狸。
She read the whole book. Every summer, someone drew one little fox, always in the same corner. It never had a name.
她把整本留言簿都读了一遍。每年夏天，都有人画一只小狐狸，总是在同一个角落。它从来没有署名。
"Who draws these?" she asked the woman at the hut.
“这些是谁画的？”她问小屋里的女士。
The woman smiled. "I do not know," she said. "The fox comes every summer. We never see who draws it."
那位女士笑了笑。“我不知道，”她说，“狐狸每年夏天都会出现。我们从来没见过是谁画的。”
Bianka took a photo of the page. Then she said goodbye and started down the trail.
比安卡拍了那一页的照片。然后她道了别，沿着小路往山下走去。
Halfway down, she met an old man. He sat on a rock and looked at the valley. A pencil stayed behind his ear. A small notebook lay on his knee.
走到半路，她遇见了一位老先生。他坐在一块岩石上，望着山谷。耳后夹着一支铅笔。膝盖上放着一本小笔记本。
Bianka stopped. "Hello," she said. "This is a strange question. Do you draw foxes?"
比安卡停下了脚步。“你好，”她说，“我问个奇怪的问题。你是不是画狐狸的人？”
The old man looked at her and laughed. "Yes," he said. "How do you know?"
老先生看着她，笑了起来。“是的，”他说，“你怎么知道？”
"I read your guestbook. I saw ten of them."
“我看了你们的留言簿。我看到了十只狐狸。”
"I come here every year on my birthday," he said. "I walk up, I draw one fox, and I walk down. Nobody asks me anything."
“我每年生日都来这里，”他说，“我走上来，画一只狐狸，再走下去。没有人问我任何问题。”
"Then happy birthday," Bianka said.
“那么，生日快乐，”比安卡说。
He smiled and opened his notebook. He drew a tiny fox on a clean page. He tore it out and gave it to her.
他笑了，打开他的笔记本。他在一页干净的纸上画了一只小小的狐狸。他把它撕下来，递给了她。
