Throughout the past century humanity did everything in its power to control nature. We dammed earth's rivers, chopped down the forests and exhausted the soils. Burning up fuels, we pumped a great deal of greenhouse gases into the air, altering the chemistry of the atmosphere and warming the planet in just a few decades. And as our population began in the year 2000 to be above the billion mark, still spreading across the continents, dozens of animal and plant species were dying out every day, including the first primate(灵长类)to disappear in more than100 years.

At the start of the 21st century there were unmistakable signs that nature was beginning to take its revenge(报复). Melting ice in both poles of the earth suggested that the climate was changing rapidly. Weather was even more changeable than usual, giving some places too little rain and others too much. Fires raced across the dried American West last summer, and recent storms spread damages from Britain to China. No specific event could be directly blamed on global warming. Floods and drought will be more frequent and severe. Other sad signs from an overburdened planet include falling grain and fish harvests and fierce competition for scarce water supplies.

But there were also signs of great awareness. Connected by the Internet, hundreds of millions of people gathered for the anniversary of Earth Day. Governments from Washington to Lima took steps to protect the large wild areas from development. Progress was made toward using more renewable energy from the wind and the sun, and new cars that used both gasoline and electricity spotted fuel-economy statistics.

The goal for the new century is “sustainable development”. Is that possible? It depends on how well we understand that humanity is part of nature, not lord or master.

If you want to hike alone in the woods, it’s always a good deal to bring along your best friend — the dog.

A hiker in Nevada recently learned that lesson the hard way. A 53-year-old man was hiking in the woods in Nevada County on the night of July 12 when he fell down a 70-foot embankment (路堤). He was badly injured, breaking his hip and ribs, but he managed to drag himself to a spot with cell service and call for help.

After getting cellphone reception, the wounded hiker, whose name was not released by authorities, phoned first responders at noon the following day asking for help and telling them about his broken bones. The man then covered himself in a camouflage tarp (伪装油布) and waited for help to arrive. His loyal friend, Saul, waited by his side.

Upon receiving the man’s emergency call, the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection enlisted the help of the nonprofit Nevada County Sheriff’s Search and Rescue to locate and rescue the man.

Twenty-five members of the Nevada County Sheriff’s Search and Rescue organization set out to find the hiker, whose last GPS location was used to get to the general neighborhood, but with miles of huge wilderness around them, they worried it would take a long time to find him.

At about 7 p. m. on July 13, the search was still going on. “Having searching for the man for over seven hours, we were tired out and felt a bit disappointed,” said Dennis Haack, leader of the Search and Rescue team, “But I do put a lot of faith in our searchers because they’re extremely good at what they do.”

Suddenly, a black dog came into the sight of a group of rescuers.

The hiking victim was put into a helicopter.

My story started one autumn morning, at the bend on a path.

I was 13 years old, and was on the way to school. It was the first time I had caught sight of a fox. Fascinated to the point that I forgot all fear, I dared to go up to it. I had never come so close to a wild animal. There was nobody else around, only me and the fox.

“Hey, fox!” I tried to greet it, though my voice was so weak it felt like I was saying hello to myself. It didn’t hear me. It stayed there and I watched it. My heart was beating flat out. It was so cute. For a moment, I thought I might be able to touch it.

Throughout the day at school, I could only think of the fox at the big beech (山毛榉) tree. At my return to the place where we met, I was sure I’d find it there.

And I did. This time I gathered a little bit more courage and called out to it, “Fox!” Of course it escaped. But that only made me long to meet it again. I decided that if I could find its kennel (洞) and catch it, I would try and tame (驯服) it, making it my friend.

Thus, I spent most of my free time in the forests trying to find the fox during the following months. But I never saw it again before winter came. During the winter, I followed its footprints far across the fields. Suddenly I was alarmed by the howling of wolves near me. I ran away frightened, stumbled and hurt my ankle. It healed very slowly, so that I had to stay at home during the winter, reading a book about animals of the forest and foxes.

When spring arrived, I was free again. I looked for fox kennels and waited for my fox. To my amazement, it had got young ones but kept moving because of my observations; therefore I decided to observe the fox from a longer distance.

Finally, it would let me get close. Finally, it would let me get close.

But before that, several days had seen my distant and patient observation, during which time the fox gradually got accustomed to my presence and finally quit moving. Delighted to see its attitude transformation, I started to bring some food, put it outside the kennel and soon returned to my distant observation site to avoid disturbing and frightening the fox. Every time, it carried the food back to the kennel after cautiously sniffing. Several times later, I attempted to get close and was astonished to find that it didn’t get away. What thrilled me further was that it would even initiatively walk to me and lie beside me for a while. So thrilled was I that one day I impulsively took it home, imaging to tame it with tips from my book.

To my surprise, the day after I took it home, it fled.