stories by english authors in africa(旅非英国作家的故事)-第4节
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Tom！ when I came up； his mood had changed； and he was standing with
his hands in his pockets； gazing vacantly before him with a rueful
countenance。
〃Look！〃 he said； 〃look！〃 and he pointed at the cliff。 Not a sign of
anything in the least resembling a diamond there。 The circle included
nothing but a flat slate…coloured stone； with one large hole； where we had
extracted the rock…salt； and one or two smaller depressions。 No sign of the
gem。
〃I've been over every inch of it；〃 said poor Tom。 〃It's not there。 Some
one has been here and noticed the chalk； and taken it。 Come home； Jack； I
feel sick and tired。 Oh； had any man ever luck like mine！〃
I turned to go； but took one last look at the cliff first。 Tom was already
ten paces off。
〃Hollo！〃 I cried； 〃don't you see any change in that circle since
yesterday？〃
〃What d' ye mean？〃 said Tom。
〃Don't you miss a thing that was there before？〃
〃The rock…salt？〃 said Tom。
〃No； but the little round knob that we used for a fulcrum。 I suppose we
must have wrenched it off in using the lever。 Let's have a look at what it's
made of。〃
Accordingly； at the foot of the cliff we searched about among the loose
stones。
〃Here you are； Jack！ We've done it at last！ We're made men！〃
I turned round； and there was Tom radiant with delight； and with the
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little corner of black rock in his hand。 At first sight it seemed to be merely
a chip from the cliff； but near the base there was projecting from it an
object which Tom was now exultingly pointing out。 It looked at first
something like a glass eye； but there was a depth and brilliancy about it
such as glass never exhibited。 There was no mistake this time； we had
certainly got possession of a jewel of great value； and with light hearts we
turned from the valley； bearing away with us the 〃fiend〃 which had so
long reigned there。
There； sir； I've spun my story out too long； and tired you perhaps。 You
see； when I get talking of those rough old days； I kind of see the little
cabin again； and the brook beside it； and the bush around； and seem to
hear Tom's honest voice once more。 There's little for me to say now。 We
prospered on the gem。 Tom Donahue； as you know； has set up here； and is
well known about town。 I have done well； farming and ostrich…raising in
Africa。 We set old Dick Wharton up in business； and he is one of our
nearest neighbours。 If you should ever be coming up our way； sir； you'll
not forget to ask for Jack TurnbullJack Turnbull of Sasassa Farm。
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STORIES
LONG ODDS
BY H。 RIDER HAGGARD
The story which is narrated in the following pages came to me from
the lips of my old friend Allan Quatermain； or Hunter Quatermain； as we
used to call him in South Africa。 He told it to me one evening when I was
stopping with him at the place he bought in Yorkshire。 Shortly after that；
the death of his only son so unsettled him that he immediately left England；
accompanied by two companions； his old fellow…voyagers； Sir Henry
Curtis and Captain Good； and has now utterly vanished into the dark heart
of Africa。 He is persuaded that a white people； of which he has heard
rumours all his life； exists somewhere on the highlands in the vast； still
unexplored interior； and his great ambition is to find them before he dies。
This is the wild quest upon which he and his companions have departed；
and from which I shrewdly suspect they never will return。 One letter only
have I received from the old gentleman； dated from a mission station high
up the Tana； a river on the east coast； about three hundred miles north of
Zanzibar； in it he says that they have gone through many hardships and
adventures； but are alive and well； and have found traces which go far
toward making him hope that the results of their wild quest may be a
〃magnificent and unexampled discovery。〃 I greatly fear； however； that all
he has discovered is death； for this letter came a long while ago； and
nobody has heard a single word of the party since。 They have totally
vanished。
It was on the last evening of my stay at his house that he told the
ensuing story to me and Captain Good； who was dining with him。 He had
eaten his dinner and drunk two or three glasses of old port； just to help
Good and myself to the end of the second bottle。 It was an unusual thing
for him to do； for he was a most abstemious man； having conceived； as he
used to say； a great horror of drink from observing its effects upon the
class of colonistshunters； transport…riders and othersamongst whom he
had passed so many years of his life。 Consequently the good wine took
more effect on him than it would have done on most men； sending a little
flush into his wrinkled cheeks； and making him talk more freely than
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usual。
Dear old man！ I can see him now； as he went limping up and down the
vestibule； with his gray hair sticking up in scrubbing…brush fashion； his
shrivelled yellow face； and his large dark eyes； that were as keen as any
hawk's； and yet soft as a buck's。 The whole room was hung with trophies
of his numerous hunting expeditions； and he had some story about every
one of them； if only he could be got to tell it。 Generally he would not； for
he was not very fond of narrating his own adventures； but to…night the port
wine made him more communicative。
〃Ah； you brute！〃 he said； stopping beneath an unusually large skull of
a lion； which was fixed just over the mantelpiece； beneath a long row of
guns； its jaws distended to their utmost width。 〃Ah； you brute！ you have
given me a lot of trouble for the last dozen years； and will； I suppose to my
dying day。〃
〃Tell us the yarn； Quatermain；〃 said Good。 〃You have often promised
to tell me； and you never have。〃
〃You had better not ask me to；〃 he answered； 〃for it is a longish one。〃
〃All right；〃 I said； 〃the evening is young； and there is some more port。〃
Thus adjured； he filled his pipe from a jar of coarse…cut Boer tobacco
that was always standing on the mantelpiece； and still walking up and
down the room； began：
〃It was； I think； in the March of '69 that I was up in Sikukuni's country。
It was just after old Sequati's time； and Sikukuni had got into powerI
forget how。 Anyway； I was there。 I had heard that the Bapedi people had
brought down an enormous quantity of ivory from the interior； and so I
started with a waggon…load of goods； and came straight away from
Middelburg to try and trade some of it。 It was a risky thing to go into the
country so early； on account of the fever； but I knew that there were one or
two others after that lot of ivory； so I determined to have a try for it； and
take my chance of fever。 I had become so tough from continual knocking
about that I did not set it down at much。 Well； I got on all right for a while。
It is a wonderfully beautiful piece of bush veldt； with great ranges of
mountains running through it； and round granite koppies starting up here
and there； looking out like sentinels over the rolling waste of bush。 But it
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is very hot；hot as a stew…pan；and when I was there that March； which；
of course； is autumn in this part of Africa； the whole place reeked of fever。
Every morning； as I trekked along down by the Oliphant River； I used to
creep from the waggon at dawn and look out。 But there was no river to be
seenonly a long line of billows of what looked like the finest cotton…wool
tossed up lightly with a pitchfork。 It was the fever mist。 Out from among
the scrub； too； came little spirals of vapour； as though there were hundreds
of tiny fires alight
