(a)

There are more and more tourists in the town. Backpackers and couples hugging each other with drink glasses can be seen everywhere.

However, the most popular visitors are tourists who love so-called outdoor sports such as fishing and hunting.

Once, while walking with Mr. Yichen, I met a few North American tourists and their children fishing for trout in a stream that had just melted ice.

Soon after the bait was dropped, inexperienced wild fish devoured the hook ferociously, starving for a winter under the ice of the stream, unable to resist the delicious food.

Then, the hooked fish fluttered and struggled in the water, swinging their fins and hitting the water with their tails to break free from the line that had caught them, and the water splashed and began a life-and-death struggle with the angler.

In the end, of course, there were so many anglers that the hooked fish were dragged ashore and thrown into the big baskets.

Listening to the desperate death-fighting sound in the fish basket, I felt that I couldn't bear to look at it any longer.

I turned my head and hurried out of the stream.

I was reminded of the old campfire nights. You say to me at the campfire that you don't like the outdoors like fishing.

I thought about the fate of those fish again.

Locals say that trout in streams are generally inhabited by one family, and from now on, many families will have to experience the pain of separation. Parents and brothers care for each other, and they can't help each other, what a tragedy it is.

We ourselves have suffered from such a fate, written countless literary works of lamentation, shed countless tears of resonance in the diàn yǐng courtyard and in front of the television, but we have no care to inflict it on other beings. We even take pleasure in such cruelty.

The fish that are about to die in Huangquan today will soon become a bubbling fish soup on the table, which is filled with milk powder and spices, which looks white, and the aroma of the stewed fish soup will waft out from many windows, which together constitute the unique style of the town in the tourist season.

We silently walked along the stream in the direction of Winter Lake.

After walking for a while, Mr. Yichen said: "Actually, people are no different from fish. Seeing a little bit of petty profit, he swallowed the deadly bait and sent himself to the end of suffering. Isn't it the same with those who fish? For the sake of a fish's petty interests, he indulges himself in doing such evil to other beings. ”

(b)

Even more upsetting than the anglers are the hunters.

The vast majority of people don't have the courage to face a giant bear or a pack of hungry wolves. Their marksmanship was also not good enough to accurately hit a rabbit or fawn in the middle of a run. Their favorite prey is the ubiquitous, numerous, often chirping, clearly targeted, and not posing any threat to human safety.

Not only were all kinds of chickadees and grouses slaughtered, but even the wild ducks that floated leisurely on the winter lake were not spared.

During the day, when we were writing in the house, we often heard the sound of liè qiāng outside.

At dusk, it is also common to see cheerful bird beaters carrying liè qiāng and strings of dead birds in their hands, returning from the forest with great ambition.

Sometimes, I would go to my neighbor's aunt's house to borrow a frying pan or something, and I would see tourists from her family's house, squatting by the tin stove, plucking the feathers of dead mallards with a pot of boiling hot water. The smell of corpses and feather dirt filled the room. I watched the bloody scene in that mess, and I always turned around and ran away quickly, and I didn't borrow anything.

They eat ducks very wastefully, the head is cut off and thrown away, and the internal organs are so dirty that they must also be discarded, so they only cut off the duck's breast, leg and wings.

I often see severed heads and amputated limbs and liver and intestine entrails of various birds in the nearby garbage cans.

I deeply feel that they don't even possess the "natural ethics" of hunters in ancient times. The oldest ethic of hunting is not to waste a single piece of good meat. Any hunt is only forced to go for the sake of hunger, and the whole body of each prey must be used to the fullest, and for the animals that are killed, primitive people must carry out various prayers to express their guilt and gratitude. They painted the hunted animals into cave murals in the hope that in this way, their lives would be prolonged.

(c)

From time to time, the sound of gunfire pierced the silence, which made Mr. Yichen and I feel very uncomfortable.

As a result, we couldn't sit down at our desks, even in broad daylight.

We often escaped from town and sat back to back in the birch forests of the green sea by the winter lake.

Sometimes, I don't want to go back to eat at noon, and I don't want to smell the wild animals cooking in the town.

Let's just bring out some big leba and pickled cucumbers for lunch.

Together, we lay on our backs on the grass covered with small white flowers, looking up at the dense canopy of trees overhead.

Mr. Yichen said: "As a bird and beast, fate is really pitiful. If you want to survive every hunting season, you have to go through too many dangers and frightenings. ”

I said, "Yes! As a human being, I am not hungry or hungry, but I like cruel and cruel killing so much, and I am also pitiful. ”

(iv)

It is comforting that the unrestrained and unrestrained people are often tourists from other places.

Locals don't like to harm native animals as much as tourists from all over the world.

They still retain their deep reverence for nature.

Once, I saw a local village woman with her little blonde boy coming to the lake to wash clothes.

The boy lifted his shirt and tried to pee in the lake.

Then the mother hurriedly stopped the child and said to the boy: "Oh, Seryosha! What are you doing?! Don't be evil, how can you pee in your mother's eyes......"

She told her children that the earth is the mother of all of us, and the clear lake of Winter Lake is the eyes of Mother Earth.

Later, when I was chatting about it, I told my neighbor's aunt.

She echoed the mother's point of view with enthusiasm.

She said that our ancestors have been passed down this way for generations. According to the locals, if the woman's eyes hurt in the future, it was because of the retribution of her child for urinating in the lake.

Since when do we stop loving nature as much as we cherish our mother's eyes?

I asked my neighbor's aunt: Spring is the season for birds to mate and breed, and we have a tradition of prohibiting spring hunting in ancient China, and there are rules for not hunting pregnant females. In the spring, here is full of hunters, and won't the wildlife resources be destroyed devastatingly soon?

The aunt said: This must be the case in principle. However, if we ban hunting here, these people will not come to the town, they will go to other places where there is no hunting ban, and the people in the town will no longer have the good income that these tourists bring. As for what to do if one day, they kill all the local animals, everyone is also worried, but they have not seriously considered it.

She said that there are so many wild animals here that they can't kill them for a while. Even if that happens, it should be after those of us middle-aged people die.

She said that this is more important to live the life she is living now.

She said to me, "Verorica, you readers, you just like to think too much. ”