Скотный двор / Animal Farm

With some difficulty (for it is not easy for a pig to balance himself on a ladder) Snowball climbed up and set to work. Squealer was holding the paint-pot^[12]. The Commandments were written on the tarred wall in great white letters. They ran thus:

ccc

The Seven Commandments

1. Whatever goes upon two legs is an enemy.

2. Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend.

3. No animal shall wear clothes.

4. No animal shall sleep in a bed.

5. No animal shall drink alcohol.

6. No animal shall kill any other animal.

7. All animals are equal.

/ccc

It was very neatly written, and except that «friend» was written «freind» and one of the «S’s» was the wrong way round^[13], the spelling was correct. Snowball read it aloud for the benefit of the others. All the animals nodded in complete agreement, and the cleverer ones at once began to learn the Commandments by heart.

«Now, comrades,» cried Snowball, throwing down the paint-brush, «to the hayfield! Let us get in the harvest more quickly than Jones and his men could do.»

But at this moment the three cows, who seemed uneasy, began to moo. They were not milked for twenty-four hours, and their udders were almost bursting. After a little thought, the pigs sent for buckets and milked the cows successfully. Their trotters were well adapted to this task. Soon there were five buckets of frothing creamy milk. Many of the animals looked at the buckets with considerable interest.

«What will happen to that milk?» said someone.

«Jones sometimes mixed some of it in our mash,» said one of the hens.

«Never mind the milk, comrades!» cried Napoleon, placing himself in front of the buckets. «That will be attended to^[14]. The harvest is more important. Comrade Snowball will lead the way. I shall follow in a few minutes. Forward, comrades! The hay is waiting.»

So the animals went to the hayfield to begin the harvest. When they came back in the evening the milk had disappeared.

Chapter III

How they toiled and sweated! But their efforts were rewarded, for the harvest was even bigger than they hoped.

Sometimes the work was hard; the implements were designed for human beings and not for animals. It was a great drawback that no animal was able to use any tool to stand on his hind legs. But the pigs were so clever that they could find the way. As for the horses, they knew every inch of the field, and in fact understood the business of mowing and raking far better than Jones and his men.

The pigs did not actually work, but directed and supervised the others. With their superior knowledge it was natural that they assumed the leadership.

Boxer and Clover harnessed themselves to the cutter or the horse-rake (no bits or reins, of course) and tramped steadily round and round the field. A pig was walking behind and calling out «Gee up, comrade!» or «Whoa back, comrade!»

Every animal worked, they turned the hay and gathered it. Even the ducks and hens toiled to and fro all day in the sun. They carried tiny wisps of hay in their beaks. In the end they finished the harvest in two days’ less time than it usually took Jones and his men. Moreover, it was the biggest harvest on the farm. There was no wastage; the hens and ducks with their sharp eyes gathered up every stalk. And not an animal on the farm stole anything.

All through that summer the work of the farm went like clockwork. The animals were happy. Every mouthful of food was their big pleasure. It was truly their own food, produced by themselves and for themselves! The worthless parasitical human beings are gone, there was more for everyone to eat. There was more leisure too.

They met with many difficulties – for instance, later in the year, when they harvested the corn, they treaded it out in the ancient style and blew away the chaff with their breath. But the pigs with their cleverness and Boxer with his tremendous muscles always helped them. Everybody admired Boxer. He was a hard worker even in Jones’s time, but now he seemed more like three horses than one. There were days when the entire work of the farm rested on his mighty shoulders. From morning to night he was pushing and pulling. He made an arrangement with one of the cockerels to call him in the mornings half an hour earlier than anyone else. His answer to every problem, every setback, was «I will work harder!» It was his personal motto.

But everyone worked according to his capacity. The hens and ducks, for instance, saved five bushels of corn at the harvest by gathering up the stray grains. Nobody stole, nobody grumbled over his rations. The quarrelling and biting and jealousy which were normal features of life in the old days almost disappeared. Nobody shirked – or almost nobody.

Mollie, it was true, did not like to get up early in the mornings, and was always ready to leave work early on the ground when was a stone in her hoof. And the behaviour of the cat was peculiar. It was soon noticed that when there was work the cat was always absent. She could vanish for hours, and then reappear at meal-times, or in the evening after work. But she always made such excellent excuses, and purred so affectionately, that it was impossible not to believe in her good intentions.

Old Benjamin, the donkey, seemed quite unchanged since the Rebellion. He did his work slowly as he was doing it in Jones’s time. He was never shirking and never volunteering for extra work either. About the Rebellion and its results he expressed no opinion. When the others asked him whether he was happy or not, he said only «Donkeys live a long time. None of you has ever seen a dead donkey».

On Sundays there was no work. Breakfast was an hour later than usual, and after breakfast there was a ceremony. First came the hoisting of the flag. Snowball found in the harness-room an old green tablecloth of Mrs. Jones’s and painted on it a hoof and a horn in white. This was the flag in the farmhouse garden. The flag was green, Snowball explained, to represent the green fields of England, while the hoof and horn signified the future Republic of the Animals. This Republic will arise when the human race is finally overthrown. After the hoisting of the flag all the animals trooped into the big barn for a general assembly which was known as the Meeting. Here they planned the work of the next week and put forward some resolutions. It was always the pigs who put forward the resolutions. The other animals understood how to vote, but could never think of any resolutions of their own.

Snowball and Napoleon were by far the most active in the debates. But it was noticed that these two were never in agreement. Whatever suggestion either of them made, the other was against it. Even when it was resolved to set aside the small paddock behind the orchard as a home of rest for the old animals, there was a stormy debate over the correct retiring age^[15] for each class of animal. The Meeting always ended with the singing of ‘Beasts of England’.

The harness-room was a headquarters for the pigs. Here, in the evenings, they studied blacksmithing, carpentering, and other necessary arts from books which they brought out of the farmhouse. Snowball also organized the other animals into Animal Committees. He was indefatigable at this. He formed the Egg Production Committee for the hens, the Clean Tails League for the cows, the Wild Comrades’ Re-education Committee (the object of this was to tame the rats and rabbits), the Whiter Wool Movement for the sheep, and various others, besides classes in reading and writing. On the whole, these projects were a failure. The attempt to tame the wild creatures, for instance, broke down almost immediately. If someone treated the wild animals with generosity, they simply took advantage of it. The cat joined the Re-education Committee and was very active in it for some days. One time she was sitting on a roof and talking to some sparrows. She was telling them that all animals were now comrades and that any sparrow could come and perch on her paw. But the sparrows kept their distance.

The reading and writing classes, however, were a great success. By the autumn almost every animal on the farm was literate in some degree.

As for the pigs, they could already read and write perfectly. The dogs learned to read fairly well, but were not interested in reading anything except the Seven Commandments. Muriel, the goat, could read better than the dogs, and sometimes read to the others in the evenings from scraps of newspaper which she found on the rubbish heap.

Benjamin could read as well as any pig, but never exercised his faculty. He said, there was nothing worth reading. Clover learnt the whole alphabet, but could not put words together. Boxer could not get beyond the letter D. He could trace out A, B, C, D, in the dust with his great hoof, and then was staring at the letters with his ears back. Sometimes he was shaking his forelock, and trying with all his might to remember what came next. He never succeeded. On several occasions, indeed, he did learn E, F, G, H, but by the time he knew them, it was always discovered that he forgot A, B, C, and D. Finally he decided to be content with the first four letters, and wrote them out once or twice every day to refresh his memory.

Mollie refused to learn any but the six letters which spelt her own name. She formed these letters out of pieces of twig, and then decorated them with a flower or two and walked round them.

None of the other animals on the farm could get further than the letter A. It was also found that the stupider animals, such as the sheep, hens, and ducks, were unable to learn the Seven Commandments by heart. Snowball declared that the Seven Commandments could be reduced to a single maxim, namely: «Four legs good, two legs bad.» This, he said, contained the essential principle of Animalism. The birds at first objected, since they also had two legs, but Snowball proved to them that this was not so.

«A bird’s wing, comrades,» he said, «is an organ of propulsion and not of manipulation. Therefore it is a leg. The distinguishing mark of man is the HAND, the instrument with which he does all his mischief.»

The birds did not understand Snowball’s long words, but they accepted his explanation, and all the humbler animals began to learn the new maxim by heart. Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad, was inscribed on the end wall of the barn, above the Seven Commandments and in bigger letters. They liked this maxim very much, and often as they lay in the field they all started bleating «Four legs good, two legs bad! Four legs good, two legs bad!» for hours.

Napoleon took no interest in Snowball’s committees. He said that the education of the young was more important. Jessie and Bluebell gave birth to nine sturdy puppies. Napoleon took them away from their mothers. He will make himself responsible for their education. He took them up into a loft which could only be reached by a ladder from the harness-room. He kept them there in such seclusion that the rest of the farm soon forgot their existence.

What about the milk? It was mixed every day into the pigs’ mash. The early apples were now ripening, and the grass of the orchard was littered with windfalls. The animals wanted to share the apples equally; one day, however, they heard an order. All the windfalls must be collected and brought to the harness-room for the use of the pigs. At this some of the other animals murmured, but it was no use. All the pigs were in full agreement on this point, even Snowball and Napoleon. Squealer made the necessary explanations to the others.

«Comrades!» he cried. «You do not imagine, I hope, that we pigs are doing this in a spirit of selfishness and privilege? Many of us actually dislike milk and apples. I dislike them myself. Our sole object is to preserve our health. Milk and apples (Science proved that, comrades) contain substances absolutely necessary to the well-being of a pig. We pigs are brainworkers^[16]. The whole management and organization of this farm depend on us. Day and night we are watching over your welfare. It is for your sake that we drink that milk and eat those apples. Do you know what will happen if we pigs fail in our duty? Jones will come back! Yes, Jones will come back! Surely, comrades,» cried Squealer almost pleadingly, skipping from side to side and whisking his tail, «surely there is no one among you who wants to see Jones come back?»

He was absolutely right: no animal wanted Jones back. So the animals had no more to say. The importance of keeping the pigs in good health was obvious. So it was agreed without further argument that the milk and the windfall apples (and also the main crop of apples when they ripened) must be reserved for the pigs alone.

Chapter IV

By the late summer the news of the Animal Farm spread across half the county. Every day Snowball and Napoleon sent out flights of pigeons whose instructions were to mingle with the animals on neighbouring farms, tell them the story of the Rebellion, and teach them the tune of ‘Beasts of England’.

Most of this time Mr. Jones spent in the taproom of the Red Lion at Willingdon. He was complaining to anyone who listened of the monstrous injustice he suffered. A pack of good-for-nothing animals turned him out of his property. The other farmers listened to him, but they did give him much help. It was lucky that the owners of the two farms which adjoined Animal Farm were on permanently bad terms. One of them, which was named Foxwood, was a large, neglected, old-fashioned farm, with all its pastures worn out and its hedges in a disgraceful condition. Its owner, Mr. Pilkington, was an easy-going^[17] gentleman farmer who spent most of his time in fishing or hunting.

The other farm, which was called Pinchfield, was smaller. Its owner was a Mr. Frederick, a tough, shrewd man, perpetually involved in lawsuits. These two disliked each other so much that it was difficult for them to come to any agreement.

Nevertheless, they were both thoroughly frightened by the rebellion on Animal Farm, and very anxious to prevent their own animals from learning too much about it. At first they laughed to scorn the idea of animals managing a farm for themselves. The whole thing will be over in a fortnight. The Manor Farm (they insisted on calling it the Manor Farm; they hated the name «Animal Farm») will rapidly starve to death. When time passed and the animals did not evidently starve to death, Frederick and Pilkington changed their tune and began to talk of the terrible wickedness that now flourished on Animal Farm. The animals there practised cannibalism, tortured one another with red-hot horseshoes, and had their females in common. This was against the laws of Nature, Frederick and Pilkington said.

However, the people did not believe these stories. Rumours of a wonderful farm, where the animals managed their own affairs, continued to circulate. Throughout that year a wave of rebelliousness ran through the countryside. Bulls which were always tractable suddenly turned savage, sheep broke down hedges and devoured the clover, cows kicked the pail over, hunters refused their fences and shot their riders on to the other side. Above all, the tune and even the words of ‘Beasts of England’ were known everywhere. It spread with astonishing speed. The human beings could not contain their rage when they heard this song, though they thought it merely ridiculous. And yet the song was irrepressible. The blackbirds whistled it in the hedges, the pigeons cooed it in the elms. And when the human beings listened to it, they secretly trembled.

Early in October, when the corn was cut and stacked and some of it was already threshed, a flight of pigeons alighted in the yard of Animal Farm in the wildest excitement. Jones and all his men, with half a dozen others from Foxwood and Pinchfield, entered the five-barred gate and were coming up the track that led to the farm. They were all carrying sticks, except Jones, who was marching ahead with a gun in his hands. Obviously they were going to attempt the recapture of the farm.

The animals were ready. All preparations have been made. Snowball, who had studied an old book of Julius Caesar’s campaigns which he found in the farmhouse, was in charge of the defensive operations. He gave his orders quickly, and in a couple of minutes every animal was at his post.

As the human beings approached the farm buildings, Snowball launched his first attack. All the pigeons flew to and fro over the men’s heads and muted upon them. While the men were dealing with this, the geese rushed out and pecked viciously at the calves of their legs. However, this was only a light manoeuvre, intended to create a little disorder. The men easily drove the geese off with their sticks.

Snowball now launched his second line of attack. Muriel, Benjamin, and all the sheep, with Snowball at the head of them, rushed forward and prodded and butted the men from every side. Benjamin turned around and lashed at them with his small hoofs. But once again the men, with their sticks and their hobnailed boots, were too strong for them. Suddenly, at a squeal from Snowball, which was the signal for retreat, all the animals turned and fled through the gateway into the yard.

The men gave a shout of triumph. They rushed after their enemies. This was just what Snowball wanted. As soon as they were inside the yard, the three horses, the three cows, and the rest of the pigs, who were lying in ambush in the cowshed, suddenly emerged in their rear. Snowball gave the signal. He himself dashed straight for Jones. Jones raised his gun and fired. The pellets scored bloody streaks along Snowball’s back, and a sheep dropped dead.

Snowball flung against Jones’s legs. Jones was hurled into a pile of dung and his gun flew out of his hands. But the most terrifying spectacle of all was Boxer. He was rearing up on his hind legs and striking out with his great iron-shod hoofs like a stallion. His very first blow took a stable-lad^[18] on the skull and stretched him lifeless in the mud.

At the sight, several men dropped their sticks and tried to run. Panic overtook them, and the next moment all the animals together were chasing them round and round the yard. There was not an animal on the farm that did not take vengeance on them after his own fashion. Even the cat suddenly leapt off a roof onto a cowman’s shoulders and sank her claws in his neck, at which he yelled horribly. The men were glad to rush out of the yard.

All the men were gone except one. Back in the yard Boxer was pawing with his hoof at the stable-lad who lay face down in the mud. The boy did not stir.

«He is dead,» said Boxer sorrowfully. «I forgot that I was wearing iron shoes. Who will believe that I did not do this on purpose?»

«No sentimentality, comrade!» cried Snowball from whose wounds the blood was still dripping. «War is war. The only good human being is a dead one.»

«I have no wish to take life, not even human life,» repeated Boxer, and his eyes were full of tears.

«Where is Mollie?» exclaimed somebody.

Mollie in fact was missing. For a moment there was great alarm. In the end, however, they found her. She was hiding in her stall with her head buried among the hay in the manger. And when the others came back, the stable-lad, who in fact was only stunned, already recovered and ran away.

The animals now reassembled in the wildest excitement. Each was recounting his own exploits in the battle. They celebrated the victory! They ran up the flag and sang ‘Beasts of England’. The poor sheep was buried, and a hawthorn bush was planted on her grave. At the graveside Snowball made a little speech, emphasising the need for all animals to be ready to die for the Animal Farm.

The animals decided unanimously to create a military decoration^[19], «Animal Hero, First Class». Snowball and Boxer were rewarded. It consisted of a brass medal (an old horse-brass from the harness-room). There was also «Animal Hero, Second Class»: the dead sheep was rewarded posthumously.

The battle was named the Battle of the Cowshed. The animals set Mr. Jones’s gun at the foot of the Flagstaff to fire it twice a year – once on October the twelfth, the anniversary of the Battle of the Cowshed, and once on Midsummer Day, the anniversary of the Rebellion.