32 An Ink Storm

32 An Ink Storm After saying goodbye to the stranger, Peanut, Rockwell, Little-Bit and Doodle carried on winding their way through Sketchwood. As they walked, the path got gradually steeper and the scattering of trees became more dense. "My ears are popping," said Little-Bit. "It's just like that time we went on holiday to Menorca and I had to have seventeen sherbet lemons on the plane just to keep my eardrums from exploding." "I think we've crossed the border into the Ink District," said Rockwell, noticing the difference in the trees. "I'm guessing that we're in the foothills of the Black Mountains. "Peanut, have you got any sherbet lemons?" Little-Bit had

32 墨水风暴 和陌生人告别后，花生、罗克韦尔、小不点和嘟嘟继续在素描森林里蜿蜒前行。 他们走着走着，路变得越来越陡，零散的树木也变得愈发茂密。 “我的耳朵胀得嗡嗡响，”小不点说。 “就像上次我们去梅诺卡度假，我在飞机上吃了十七颗柠檬雪糖才没让耳膜炸掉。” “我觉得我们已经越过边界进入墨水区了，”罗克韦尔察觉到树木的变化后说道。 “我猜我们现在已经到黑山的山麓地带了。 “花生，你带柠檬雪糖了吗？” 小不点正

both hands clamped on to the sides of her head. Peanut pulled out the pencil and air-drew a boiled sweet. She plucked it from in front of her and handed it to her sister. "Try this," she said. Little-Bit took it and put it in her mouth. "YUCK! It tastes of tuna!" Within half an hour the incline had increased to such an extent that the group found themselves using their hands almost as much as their feet. After pulling themselves up and over a fallen tree on a particularly steep section of slope, they sat down to catch their breath. Peanut looked at the sky. "It's getting dark. What time is it?" "Only about two thirty," said Rockwell. "Hang on. Did you feel that?" "Feel what?" "That. Something wet. There it is again!" Doodle ran over to the biggest tree on the slope and sat underneath its branches. "What's that on your face?" said Peanut to Rockwell. "Running down your forehead?" The boy wiped it and looked at his hand. Splat! Splat! Two black drops of liquid landed on his palm. And then... the heavens opened.

双手紧紧按在自己的脑袋两侧。 花生掏出铅笔，在空中画了一颗硬糖。 她把糖从空中摘下来，递给了自己的妹妹。 “尝尝这个，”她说。 小不点接过糖放进嘴里。 “太难吃了！ 这个居然是金枪鱼味的！” 才过去半小时，坡就陡得不得了，大伙几乎要手脚并用才能往上爬。 他们费劲翻过陡坡上一棵倒下的大树后，坐下来喘气休息。 花生抬头看了看天。 “天越来越黑了。 现在几点了？” “才两点半左右，”罗克韦尔说。 “等一下。 你感觉到了吗？” “感觉到什么？” “就是这个。 有湿乎乎的东西。 又来了！” 嘟嘟跑到坡上最大的那棵树下，躲在了树枝下面。 “你脸上那是什么？”花生问罗克韦尔。 “顺着你额头往下流的那个？” 男孩擦了擦额头，低头看向自己的手。 啪嗒！ 啪嗒！ 两滴黑色液体落在了他的手掌上。 紧接着……天就下起了倾盆大雨。

Hundreds of fat orbs of oily liquid tumbled from the sky, exploding on the ground leaving a dark splatter pattern like a Jackson Pollock painting. QUICK!" shouted Rockwell. "Get under the tree with Doodle. It's raining ink!" The three of them, soaked and streaked with black liquid, scrambled over to where Doodle was sheltering. "You look like you got into a paint fight in the art room," laughed Rockwell, looking over at Peanut. "Ha! Don't pretend you've ever been in an art room," she replied, smiling. "Guys. Mummy always says that you shouldn't shelter underneath trees in a storm," declared Little-Bit. "She says that it's much better to be a bit wet than it is to be a bit electrocuted by lightning. Oh, come on," chuckled Rockwell. "That's such a myth! Did you know that the odds of a human being struck by lightning are approximately ten million to one? In fact, you're considerably more likely to be crushed by an intergalactic meteor or eaten by a hippo— CRACK! The explosion was so loud that it left the children's ears ringing. Peanut could smell burning. She looked up and saw bright orange flames licking the top of the tree.

成百上千颗油乎乎的大墨珠从天而降，砸在地上炸开，留下一片片黑色墨斑，就像杰克逊·波洛克的画一样。 “快！”罗克韦尔大喊。 “快和嘟嘟一起躲到树下去。 下墨水雨了！” 三个人浑身湿透、沾满黑墨，连滚带爬地躲到了嘟嘟藏身的地方。 “你看起来就像在美术室打了一场颜料大战，”罗克韦尔笑着看向花生说。 “哈！ 别装了，你什么时候去过美术室，”花生笑着回道。 “伙伴们。 妈妈总说暴风雨的时候不能躲在树下，”小不点大声说。 “妈妈说，稍微淋点雨也比被闪电电死好呀。 哦，得了吧，”罗克韦尔笑了， “这都是老谣言啦！ 你知道吗，人被闪电击中的概率大约只有一千万分之一？ 实际上，你被星际陨石砸死或者被河马吃掉的概率都比这个高——咔嚓！ 这声巨响震得孩子们的耳朵嗡嗡直响。 花生闻到了烧焦的味道。 她抬头一看，亮橙色的火苗正舔舐着树冠。

CRACK! CRACKETY CRACK! Sharp slashes of white arrowed across the slate- coloured sky, hitting their tree for a second time. Huge lumps of burning charcoal landed on the floor beside them and rolled down the hill. "RUN!" shouted Peanut. "But we'll get soaked!" said Rockwell. And I've only just got over a cold!" Without thinking, Peanut grabbed the three-inch paintbrush from her bandolier, dipped it into a puddle of black ink by her feet, and painted a large circle with a hole in the middle on the ground. As quickly as she could, she painted two more. Quick, grab one!" she bellowed.

咔嚓！ 咔嚓咔嚓！ 刺眼的白色闪电像箭一样划破灰蓝色天空，第二次劈中了这棵树。 大块大块燃烧的木炭掉在他们身边的地上，滚下了山坡。 “跑啊！”花生大喊。 “可是我们会被淋透的！”罗克韦尔说。 而且我的感冒才刚好！” 花生想都没想，就从弹带里抽出那把三英寸长的画笔，在脚边的墨水坑里蘸了蘸，在地上画了一个中间带洞的大圆圈。 她又飞快地画了两个。 “快，每人拿一个！” 她大吼道。

"Let's hope the paintbrush works. just like Little Tail!" The three children each grabbed a painted disc threw it over, their heady, poking their faces through the holes. "It worked!" shouted Little-Bit. Peanut scooped up Doodle, pulled him under her new poncho, and the four of them ran out into the pouring black rain, away from the burning tree.

“希望这支画笔能管用。 就像小尾巴那样！” 三个孩子每人抓起一个画好的圆盘，把它套过头，把脸从中间的洞露出来。 “真的管用！”小不点大喊。 花生抱起嘟嘟，把他拉到自己的新雨披下，四个人冲进倾盆黑墨雨中，往远离燃烧大树的方向跑去了。