在常年冰封的马特洪峰上,在被土库曼人称为死亡谷的断尾崖下,我和泽比尔疲惫不堪地倒在帐篷内,而塔木叔则蜷缩在帐外的睡袋里,以防万一,在休息时我们总分开睡。塔木叔朝我们喊:“小子,早点儿睡,别明天爬崖时打瞌睡。”这次族人庆典有点特别,族长不知为什么突然提出要采山巅雪莲祭祖,在这样的寒冬季节,我们三个人自告奋勇参加,就连族长最美丽的小女儿莫丽也为我们送行。此时,我们就快 Under perennial frosty Matterhorn, under the rocky cliffs called the Death Valley by Turks, I and Zabill were weary in the tent, while Uncle Tarm curled up in an under-sleeping sleeping bag In case, we always fall asleep at rest. Uncle Tarm shouted to us: “Boy, sleep early, do not sleep tomorrow climbing the cliff. ” The tribe celebrations a bit special, the patriarch I do not know why suddenly proposed to take the mountain snow lotus ancestors, in such a cold winter Three of us volunteered to join us. Even Molly, the most beautiful young patriarch, gave us off. At this point, we are fast