As each day passed I would learn, in our talk, something about the little prince's planet, his departure from it, his journey. The information would come very slowly, as it might chance to fall from his thoughts. It was in this way that I heard, on the third day, about the catastrophe of the baobabs.

This time, once more, I had the sheep to thank for it. For the little prince asked me abruptly—as if seized by a grave doubt—“It is true, isn't it, that sheep eat little bushes?”

“Yes, that is true.”

“Ah! I am glad!”

I did not understand why it was so important that sheep should eat little bushes. But the little prince added:

“Then it follows that they also eat baobabs?”

I pointed out to the little prince that baobabs were not little bushes, but, on the contrary, trees as big as castles; and that even if he took a whole herd of elephants away with him, the herd would not eat up one single baobab.

The idea of the herd of elephants made the little prince laugh.

“We would have to put them one on top of the other,” he said.

But he made a wise comment:

“Before they grow so big, the baobabs start out by being little.”

“That is strictly correct,” I said. “But why do you want the sheep to eat the little baobabs?”

He answered me at once, “Oh, come, come!”, as if he were speaking of something that was self-evident. And I was obliged to make a great mental effort to solve this problem, without any assistance.

Indeed, as I learned, there were on the planet where the little prince lived—as on all planets—good plants and bad plants. In consequence, there were good seeds from good plants, and bad seeds from bad plants. But seeds are invisible. They sleep deep in the heart of the earth's darkness, until some one among them is seized with the desire to awaken. Then this little seed will stretch itself and begin—timidly at first—to push a charming little sprig inoffensively upward toward the sun. If it is only a sprout of radish or the sprig of a rose-bush, one would let it grow wherever it might wish. But when it is a bad plant, one must destroy it as soon as possible, the very first instant that one recognizes it.

Now there were some terrible seeds on the planet that was the home of the little prince; and these were the seeds of the baobab. The soil of that planet was infested with them. A baobab is something you will never, never be able to get rid of if you attend to it too late. It spreads over the entire planet. It bores clear through it with its roots. And if the planet is too small, and the baobabs are too many, they split it in pieces…

“It is a question of discipline,” the little prince said to me later on. “When you've finished your own toilet in the morning, then it is time to attend to the toilet of your planet, just so, with the greatest care. You must see to it that you pull up regularly all the baobabs, at the very first moment when they can be distinguished from the rosebushes which they resemble so closely in their earliest youth. It is very tedious work,” the little prince added, “but very easy.”

And one day he said to me: “You ought to make a beautiful drawing, so that the children where you live can see exactly how all this is. That would be very useful to them if they were to travel some day. Sometimes,” he added, “there is no harm in putting off a piece of work until another day. But when it is a matter of baobabs, that always means a catastrophe. I knew a planet that was inhabited by a lazy man. He neglected three little bushes…”So, as the little prince described it to me, I have made a drawing of that planet. I do not much like to take the tone of a moralist. But the danger of the baobabs is so little understood, and such considerable risks would be run by anyone who might get lost on an asteroid, that for once I am breaking through my reserve. “Children,” I say plainly, “watch out for the baobabs!”

My friends, like myself, have been skirting this danger for a long time, without ever knowing it; and so it is for them that I have worked so hard over this drawing. The lesson which I pass on by this means is worth all the trouble it has cost me.

Perhaps you will ask me, “Why are there no other drawing in this book as magnificent and impressive as this drawing of the baobabs?”

The reply is simple. I have tried. But with the others I have not been successful. When I made the drawing of the baobabs I was carried beyond myself by the inspiring force of urgent necessity.

每天，我都了解到有關他那顆星球上的一些事，關于他是怎么起程出發的，他在太空里是怎么長途旅行的，等等。這些我都是在他時不時進行沉思時，不動聲色地了解到的。第三天，正是在這種情況下，我了解到關于猴面包樹的故事。

這回，還得歸功于那只綿羊，因為，小王子突然向我發問，好像是在沉思時產生了一個嚴重的疑惑：“綿羊都愛啃灌木叢，這是真的嗎？”

“的確，是真的?！?

“哦！那我就高興了！”

我不明白，為什么綿羊吃不吃灌木叢對他這么事關重大。我還沒有想明白，小王子又追問：

“那么，綿羊啃不啃猴面包樹呢？”

我提請小王子注意，猴面包樹并不是什么低矮的灌木叢，而是高高大大的樹，足有教堂那么高。要是他擁有一群大象的話，這群大象摞在一起，還不及一棵猴面包樹高呢。

一提到象群，就把小王子逗得笑了起來：

“還得把那些大象一頭一頭摞起來呀……”

不過，他很聰明，馬上就注意到了：

“猴面包樹在長成大樹之前，起初也是小小的樹苗呀。”

“的確是這么回事！可你為什么要讓你的綿羊去啃那些猴面包樹的小苗呢？”

“嘿，咱們瞧吧！”他這么回答我，似乎這件事是再明白不過的。但是，對我來說，要弄明白是怎么回事，可讓我絞盡了腦汁。

實際情況是這樣的，在小王子的那顆星球上，也像所有別的星球一樣，長有良草與莠草。因此，良草自然產良草籽，莠草產莠草籽。可是，草籽是良是莠，起初是看不見的。它們在地下沉睡，不露出自己的本性。直到有一天，其中的一粒一時興起，蘇醒了過來，伸了個懶腰，朝著太陽羞怯怯地先長出一片嫩嫩的幼芽，它嬌美可愛，不露聲色。如果這是小紅蘿卜或玫瑰的幼芽，那就可以任它自由生長。但如果是一株有害植物的幼芽，一旦識別了它，那就必須立即拔掉。

而在小王子的那個星球上，就有那么一種可怕的種子，那就是猴面包樹籽。他那個星球的土壤，飽受了這種樹的破壞。如果對一棵猴面包樹下手晚了的話，那就永遠休想把它清除干凈。它會不斷生長，用自己的根須使勁在星球里穿刺，直到塞滿星球。如果這顆星球太小，而猴面包樹又鋪天蓋地，整個星球就會被它們撐破撐裂。

“在我家里，我必須遵守嚴格的作息制度，”小王子后來這么告訴我，“每天一清早，梳洗完畢之后，我就該仔細認真地清掃星球。猴面包樹與玫瑰樹剛發芽的時候，非常相似。我一旦把它們區別出來，就必須立即把猴面包樹幼苗拔掉。這件工作十分枯燥，但做起來也很容易?！?

有一天，他勸我花些工夫畫出一幅漂亮的圖畫，好讓地球上的孩子明白以上的道理。他對我這樣說：“假如將來有一天他們旅行的話，明白了這種情況，對他們是有用處的。有的時候，把自己的工作擱置一下并無關緊要，但如果在對付猴面包樹上拖延了時間，那就會釀成災難。我就知道這么一個事例：有一個星球，那上面住了一個懶漢，他對三棵小樹掉以輕心，結果出了大禍……”

于是，我按照小王子的描述，畫出那顆出了大禍的星球。本來，我很不愿意擺出一副說教人的面孔，但是，地球人對猴面包樹所能造成的危害實在知之甚少，而且，這種樹在一顆小行星上所引起的災難是那么嚴重，那么觸目驚心。因此，我這一次破例改變自己從不說教的態度，大聲說道：“孩子們！要警惕猴面包樹！”

為了警告我的朋友們，提防就在他們身邊的這種危險，我才費了好大的勁兒畫出了上面這幅畫。為了防備災難，花些力氣提出告誡，還是很值得的。

你們也許會問，為什么這本書里的其他插圖，都不如這幅猴面包樹畫得有氣勢。

原因很簡單：畫這幅畫時，我是出自一種特別急切的心情，想要警告地球人；而我畫其他插圖時，雖說也想畫得有氣勢，但都沒有成功。