武松读了印信榜文，方知端的有虎。欲待转身再回酒店里来，寻思道：“我回去时，须吃他耻笑，不是好汉，难以转去。”存想了一回，说道：“怕甚么鸟！且只顾上去看怎地！”

So there really was a tiger! The notice with its official seal confirmed that. Wu Song considered returning to the tavern. But then he said to himself: “If I do that, the host will laugh at me for a coward. I can't go back.” He thought a moment. “What's there to be afraid of,” he exclaimed. “Just keep climbing and see what happens.”

武松正走，看看酒涌上来，便把毡笠儿背在脊梁上，将哨棒绾在肋下，一步步上那冈子来。回头看这日色时，渐渐地坠下去了。此时正是十月间天气，日短夜长，容易得晚。武松自言自说道：“那得甚么大虫？人自怕了，不敢上山。”武松走了一直，酒力发作，焦热起来。一只手提着哨棒，一只手把胸膛前袒开，踉踉跄跄，直奔过乱树林来。见一块光挞挞大青石，把那哨棒倚在一边，放翻身体，却待要睡，只见发起一阵狂风来。
He walked on. The warmth of the wine rose in him, and he pushed back the felt hat till it was hanging by the string on his shoulders. Clapping the staff under one arm, he plodded up the slope. When he looked back at the sun, it was almost gone. The days are short in late autumn, and the nights are long. It gets dark early. “There isn't any tiger,” he said to himself. “People just scare themselves and don't dare come up the mountain.” The wine was burning inside him as he walked. With his staff in one hand, he unbuttoned his tunic with the other. His gait was unsteady now, and he staggered into a thicket. Before him was a large smooth rock. He rested his staff against it, clambered onto its flat surface, and prepared to sleep.

那一阵风过处，只听得乱树背后扑地一声响，跳出一只吊睛白额大虫来。武松见了，叫声：“阿呀！”从青石上翻将下来，便拿那条哨棒在手里，闪在青石边。
Suddenly a wild gale blew, and when it passed a roar come from behind the thicket and out bounded a huge tiger. Its malevolent upward – slanting eyes gleamed beneath a broad white forehead. “Aiya!” cried Wu Song. He jumped down, seized his staff, and slipped behind the rock.

那个大虫又饥又渴，把两只爪在地下略按一按，和身望上一扑，从半空里撺将下来。武松被那一惊，酒都做冷汗出了。说时迟，那时快，武松见大虫扑来，只一闪，闪在大虫背后。那大虫背后看人最难，便把前爪搭在地下，把腰胯一掀，掀将起来。武松只一躲，躲在一边。大虫见掀他不着，吼一声，却似半天里起个霹雳，振得那山冈也动，把这铁棒也似虎尾，倒竖起来只一剪。武松却又闪在一边。原来那大虫拿人，只是一扑，一掀，一剪；三般提不着时，气性先自没了一半。那大虫又剪不着，再吼了一声，一兜兜将回来。武松见那大虫复翻身回来，双手抡起哨棒，尽平生气力只一棒，从半空劈将下来。只听得一声响，簌簌地将那树连枝带叶劈脸打将下来。定睛看时，一棒劈不着大虫；原来打急了，正打在枯树上，把那条哨棒折做两截，只拿得一半在手里。
Both hungry and thirsty, the big animal clawed the ground with its front paws a couple of times, sprang high and came hurtling forward. The wine poured out of Wu Song in a cold sweat. Quicker than it takes to say, he dodged, and the huge beast landed beyond him. Tigers can't see behind them, so as its front paws touched the ground it tried to side – swipe Wu Song with its body. Again he dodged, and the tiger missed. With a thunderous roar that shook the ridge, the animal slashed at Wu Song with its iron tail. Once more he swiveled out of the way. Now this tiger had three methods for getting its victim – spring, swipe and slash. But none of them had worked, and the beast's spirit diminished by half. Again it roared, and whirled around. Wu Song raised his staff high in a two – handed grip and swung with all his might. There was a loud crackling, and a large branch, leaves and all, tumbled past his face. In his haste, he had struck an old tree instead of the tiger, snapping the staff in two and leaving him holding only the remaining half.

那大虫咆哮，性发起来，翻身又只一扑，扑将来。武松又只一跳，却退了十步远。那大虫恰好把两只前爪搭在武松面前。武松将半截棒丢在一边，两只手就势把大虫顶花皮肐瘩地揪住，一按按将下来。那只大虫急要挣扎，被武松尽力气纳定，那里肯放半点儿松宽。武松把只脚望大虫面门上、眼睛里，只顾乱踢。那大虫咆哮起来，把身底下爬起两堆黄泥，做了一个土坑。武松把那大虫嘴直按下黄泥坑里去，那大虫吃武松奈何得没了些气力。武松把左手紧紧地揪住顶花皮，偷出右手来，提起铁锤般大小拳头，尽平生之力，只顾打。打到五七十拳，那大虫眼里、口里、鼻子里、耳朵里，都迸出鲜血来，更动弹不得，只剩口里兀自气喘。
Lashing itself into a roaring fury, the beast charged. Wu Song leaped back ten paces, and the tiger landed in front of him. He threw away the stump of his staff, seized the animal by the ruff and bore down. The tiger struggled frantically, but Wu Song was exerting all his strength, and wouldn't give an inch. He kicked the beast in the face and eyes, again and again. The tiger roared, its wildly scrabbling claws pushing back two piles of yellow earth and digging a pit before it. Wu Song pressed the animal's muzzle into the pit, weakening it further. Still relentlessly clutching the beast by the ruff with his left hand, Wu Song freed his right, big as an iron mallet, and with all his might began to pound. After sixty or seventy blows the tiger, blood streaming from eyes, mouth, nose and ears, lay motionless, panting weakly.

武松放了手，来松树边寻那打折的棒橛，拿在手里；只怕大虫不死，把棒橛又打了一回。那大虫气都没了，武松再寻思道：“我就地拖得这死大虫下冈子去。”就血泊里双手来提时，那里提得动，原来使尽了气力，手脚都苏软了。
Wu Song got up and searched around under the pine tree until he found the stump of his broken staff. With this he beat the animal till it breathed no more. Then he tossed the staff aside. “I'd better drag this dead tiger down the mountain,” he thought. He tried to lift the beast, lying in a pool of blood, but couldn't move it. He was exhausted, the strength gone out of his hands and feet.