9 Trapping

CHAPTER NINE Trapping The next day, Ingrid and Sir Charles Fotheringay were taking a turn around the Small Pond. 'I don't know how long I can live like a PRISONER!' wailed Sir Charles. Ingrid thwacked him on the beak. 'What are you talking about?' she quacked. 'We are asleep for at least fifteen hours every day. No monster is going to affect my routine. I do not care how big or ferocious it is.' Sir Charles nodded. 'You're quite right, darling. I'm so sorry. All this drama is so unbearable!' 'You love the drama just as much as I do.' Ingrid harrumphed, her eyes narrowing. The rest of the ducks in the Small Pond had gathered near a particular clump of reeds. There was much quacking and pointing. 'Speaking of drama,' said Ingrid. 'What is all the fussing about?' She and Charles glided over to the others.

第九章陷阱第二天，英格丽德和查尔斯·福瑟林盖爵士绕着小池塘转了一圈。 “我不知道我还能像个囚犯一样活多久！”查尔斯爵士哀号道。 英格丽德在他的喙上打了一下。 “你在说什么？”她嘎嘎地说。 “我们每天至少睡十五个小时。 没有怪物会影响我的日常生活。 我不在乎它有多大，有多凶猛。”查尔斯爵士点点头。 “你说得很对，亲爱的。 我很抱歉。这一切太让人难以忍受了！“你和我一样喜欢这部剧。”英格丽眯着眼睛嘟哝道。 小池塘里其他的鸭子都聚集在一丛芦苇附近。 有很多嘎嘎叫和指指点点的声音。 “说到戏剧，”英格丽德说。 “你在大惊小怪些什么？”她和查尔斯滑向其他人。

'Look!' quacked a duck called Kenzo. 'Monster prints! It must have come to the Small Pond in the middle of the night!' Sir Charles fainted. 'I suppose I will have to go and tell Titus,' sighed Ingrid. 'This is just the kind of hoo-ha they will all get very excited about.' And she paddled off towards Titus's caravan, dragging Sir Charles behind her. Titus had been so distracted by all the monster kerfuffle, he had fallen behind with writing his book Memoirs of a Stag. He sat next to a pot of tea and a plate of chocolate éclairs. He hoovered up one of the éclairs without chewing, and stared at the blank page on the table. He had been writing his book for over a year. So far, he had written five pages. 'Writing is so haaaard,' he whined, chewing on the end of his pencil and holding his head in his hooves. Then suddenly, inspiration struck. He started scribbling.

“看!一只叫Kenzo的鸭子嘎嘎地叫着。 “怪物打印!它一定是半夜到小池塘来的！”查尔斯爵士昏了过去。 “我想我得去告诉提图斯，”英格丽德叹了口气。 “这是一种他们都会非常兴奋的事情。”她拖着查尔斯爵士向提图斯的商队划去。 提图斯一直被怪物的混乱弄得心烦意乱，他的《雄鹿回忆录》写得落后了。 他坐在一壶茶和一盘巧克力的旁边。 他一口也没嚼就把其中一份拿来，盯着桌子上那张空白的纸。 他写这本书已经一年多了。 到目前为止，他已经写了五页。 “写作太糟糕了，”他抱怨道，嘴里嚼着铅笔头，用蹄子捂着头。 突然，灵感来了。 他开始乱涂乱画。

I have always been fond of pastry. Any kind will do, though my favourite might be choux. 'Phew!' said Titus, and he leant back in his chair. He decided a celebratory nap was in order. But before he could get his doze on, he was disturbed by some aggressive quacking. 'Wake up, feeble stag! You are supposed to be the Mayor of Grimwood, are you not?' 'Oh, hullo, Ingrid,' said Titus. 'Hullo, Sir Charles. I've just been writing my novel.' 'So I see,' said Ingrid, sounding unimpressed. 'Anyway, I am here to tell you that there are MANY giant monster footprints next to my pond. Clearly this beast was attempting to eat me and my duck brethren last night. I am displeased.' Titus leapt up at once. 'No! Oh, Ingrid, I am so glad you're all right. Oh, this pesky beast!' Frank, who was quietly perched in the hollow of an oak tree, gave a polite hoot. 'Might be time to ask Pamela if she's seen anything on her cameras, Chief?' he asked. 'Yes, grand idea, Frank,' said Titus. 'At least we'll know what we're up against.' Frank swooped down and poured himself a coffee.

我一直很喜欢吃糕点。 任何一种都可以，不过我最喜欢的可能是泡芙。 “唷!提图斯说着，向后靠在椅子上。 他决定打个盹庆祝一下。 但还没来得及打个盹儿，他就被一阵咄咄逼人的嘎嘎声吵醒了。 “醒醒吧，虚弱的鹿！”你应该是格里姆伍德的市长，不是吗？“哦，你好，英格丽德，”提图斯说。 “你好，查尔斯爵士。我正在写我的小说。“我明白了，”英格丽德说，听上去无动于衷。 “不管怎样，我在这里告诉你，我的池塘旁边有许多巨大的怪物脚印。 很明显，这只野兽昨晚想要吃掉我和我的鸭子兄弟们。 我很不高兴。”提多立刻跳了起来。 “不!英格丽德，真高兴你没事。 哦，这个讨厌的畜生！”弗兰克静静地坐在一棵橡树的树洞里，礼貌地叫了一声。 “也许是时候问问帕梅拉，她有没有在相机上看到什么了，头儿？”他问。 “是的，好主意，弗兰克，”提图斯说。 “至少我们知道我们面对的是什么。”弗兰克冲下来给自己倒了杯咖啡。

'I can't face that eagle without caffeine first,' he said, pecking at a chocolate éclair. And, as if by magic, Pamela the eagle swooped down from the Magic Tower. 'WASSSUUUUUUUUUUUUP!' she hooted, before diving face first into the plate of chocolate éclairs. She ate the whole lot (including the plate). 'Did you see anything last night, Pamela?' asked Titus. Pamela did a tremendous burp. Out came the plate. 'Too crunchy,' she said. 'No, I did not see any beasties prowling around. I only saw Sharon doing some midnight breakdancing. I do not know why she does this.' Just then, Willow and Ted turned up, breathless from running. 'We heard there were chocolate éclairs!' she panted. 'They're all gone, I'm afraid, young Willow,' said Titus. 'But wait there!' He dashed back into his caravan and started clattering about. 'We have seen more footprints,' quacked Ingrid. 'Maybe they are in your book?' Willow nodded eagerly. 'Me and Ted have read the whole thing, and we think we know what the monster is!' she said. She heaved the book onto the table and turned to a page with a folded corner.

他说，如果没有咖啡因，我就无法面对那只老鹰。 然后，就像被施了魔法一样，老鹰帕梅拉从魔法塔上俯冲下来。 “WASSSUUUUUUUUUUUUP !她喊道，然后一头扎进了那盘巧克力色拉。 她把所有的都吃光了（包括盘子）。 “昨晚你看到什么了吗，帕梅拉？”提多问。 帕梅拉打了一个响亮的嗝。 盘子出来了。“太脆了，”她说。 “没有，我没有看到任何野兽在附近徘徊。 我只看到莎伦在跳午夜霹雳舞。 我不知道她为什么这样做。”就在这时，威洛和泰德出现了，他们跑得上气不接下气。 “我们听说那里有巧克力做成的饮料！”她喘着气说。 “恐怕他们都走了，小威洛，”提图斯说。 “可是在那儿等着！”他冲回他的大篷车，开始四处走动。 “我们看到了更多的脚印。”英格丽嘎嘎地说。 “也许它们在你的书里？”威洛急切地点了点头。 “我和泰德把整本书都读了，我们想我们知道这个怪物是什么了！”她说。 她把书举到桌上，翻到折角的那一页。