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We bounce in the truck along a furrowed road, through a mud slick and up to a bluff that looks out to the curve of the Earth.
卡車在裂痕縱橫的道路上顛簸，開過一片滑溜的泥地登上斷崖，弧形的天際線盡收眼底。
The plains glow emerald in this wet spring, rolling toward distant hills. Near an oxbow in the creek beneath us, a herd of buffalo graze. They are primeval creatures, bearded and huge, their winter fur peeling off in strips like old wallpaper.
春雨的浸潤讓草原像綠寶石般發(fā)光，連綿鋪向遠(yuǎn)方的山丘。腳下蜿蜒的溪水形如牛軛，一群野牛在旁吃草。這些古老生靈身形龐大，胡須綴面，過冬的厚毛一條條脫落，如同破舊的墻紙。
In the days before horses and guns, Plains Indians chased buffalo off this steep embankment to their deaths. It's late in May, late in the afternoon, and the light has taken on a rich, nostalgic cast. Damien Austin, a former zookeeper with rectangular glasses and a rectangular fringe of hair, extends his hand across the humped expanse of prairie. "Just imagine grizzly bears running around out there," he says.
在槍支和奔馬被引入這片大地之前，“大平原印第安人”的狩獵方式就是驅(qū)趕野牛摔下這道斷崖。如今正是五月下旬，傍晚時分，光線帶著濃濃的懷舊氣息。當(dāng)過動物園管理員的達(dá)明·奧斯汀的眼鏡框和發(fā)型同樣方方正正，手臂伸向起伏綿延的草地。“想象一下大灰熊在那里奔跑的場景。”他說道。
