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Maybe you could write an account of our ranging, Sam.
“山姆，或许你也可以把我们这次巡逻的经过写下来。”
He'd meant to sound encouraging, but it was the wrong thing to say. The last thing Sam needed was to be reminded of what faced them on the morrow. He shuffled the scrolls about aimlessly. "There's more maps. If I had time to search... everything's a jumble. I could set it all to order, though; I know I could, but it would take time... well, years, in truth."
他本意是鼓励，却说错了话，山姆此刻最不需要别人提醒的就是从明天起他们将面对的命运。他随手翻动一些卷轴，“地图还很多，如果给我时间……这里乱成一团，不过我有办法把一切都整理妥当，我知道我能行，但那得花上好多时间……唉，说真的，起码要好些年才行。”
Mormont wanted those maps a little sooner than that. Jon plucked a scroll from a bin, blew off the worst of the dust. A corner flaked off between his fingers as he unrolled it. "Look, this one is crumbling," he said, frowning over the faded script.
“恐怕莫尔蒙没法等那么久，”琼恩从箱子里抽出一束卷轴，吹掉上面厚厚的灰尘，不料展开的时候，卷轴竟有一小角从他指间剥落。“你看，这张快碎了。”他看着褪色的字迹皱眉。
Be gentle. Sam came around the table and took the scroll from his hand, holding it as if it were a wounded animal. "The important books used to be copied over when they needed them. Some of the oldest have been copied half a hundred times, probably."
“轻一点。”山姆绕过桌子，从他手中接过卷轴，像是对待受伤动物似地捧着。“重要的书籍记录在需要时常被誊抄。这里最老的书说不定被抄过五六十次呢。”
Well, don't bother copying that one. Twenty-three barrels of pickled cod, eighteen jars of fish oil, a cask of salt...
“哎，可这张没什么好抄的。二十三桶盐渍鳕鱼，十八罐鱼油，一桶腌……”
An inventory, Sam said, "or perhaps a bill of sale."
“这是张货物清单，”山姆说，“或是买卖的收据。”
Who cares how much pickled cod they ate six hundred years ago? Jon wondered.
“谁管六百年前的人吃多少鳕鱼啊？”琼恩不禁纳闷。
I would. Sam carefully replaced the scroll in the bin from which Jon had plucked it. "You can learn so much from ledgers like that, truly you can. It can tell you how many men were in the Night's Watch then, how they lived, what they ate..."
“我就会，”山姆小心翼翼地把卷轴放回原本的箱子，“从帐目里，你可以学到很多，真的，我不骗你。比方说，你可以从中得知当时守夜人军团有多少人，过着什么样的生活，吃些什么东西……”
