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the house of pride and other tales of hawaii-第21部分
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were as big and as fine as his body。
〃I wonder what you would do if you saw your friend; your brother; on
the slippery lip of a precipice; slipping; slipping; and you were
able to do nothing。 That was just it。 I could do nothing。 I saw
it coming; and I could do nothing。 My God; man; what could I do?
There it was; malignant and incontestable; the mark of the thing on
his brow。 No one else saw it。 It was because I loved him so; I do
believe; that I alone saw it。 I could not credit the testimony of
my senses。 It was too incredibly horrible。 Yet there it was; on
his brow; on his ears。 I had seen it; the slight puff of the
earlobesoh; so imperceptibly slight。 I watched it for months。
Then; next; hoping against hope; the darkening of the skin above
both eyebrowsoh; so faint; just like the dimmest touch of sunburn。
I should have thought it sunburn but that there was a shine to it;
such an invisible shine; like a little highlight seen for a moment
and gone the next。 I tried to believe it was sunburn; only I could
not。 I knew better。 No one noticed it but me。 No one ever noticed
it except Stephen Kaluna; and I did not know that till afterward。
But I saw it coming; the whole damnable; unnamable awfulness of it;
but I refused to think about the future。 I was afraid。 I could
not。 And of nights I cried over it。
〃He was my friend。 We fished sharks on Niihau together。 We hunted
wild cattle on Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa。 We broke horses and branded
steers on the Carter Ranch。 We hunted goats through Haleakala。 He
taught me diving and surfing until I was nearly as clever as he; and
he was cleverer than the average Kanaka。 I have seen him dive in
fifteen fathoms; and he could stay down two minutes。 He was an
amphibian and a mountaineer。 He could climb wherever a goat dared
climb。 He was afraid of nothing。 He was on the wrecked Luga; and
he swam thirty miles in thirty…six hours in a heavy sea。 He could
fight his way out through breaking combers that would batter you and
me to a jelly。 He was a great; glorious man…god。 We went through
the Revolution together。 We were both romantic loyalists。 He was
shot twice and sentenced to death。 But he was too great a man for
the republicans to kill。 He laughed at them。 Later; they gave him
honour and made him Sheriff of Kona。 He was a simple man; a boy
that never grew up。 His was no intricate brain pattern。 He had no
twists nor quirks in his mental processes。 He went straight to the
point; and his points were always simple。
〃And he was sanguine。 Never have I known so confident a man; nor a
man so satisfied and happy。 He did not ask anything from life。
There was nothing left to be desired。 For him life had no arrears。
He had been paid in full; cash down; and in advance。 What more
could he possibly desire than that magnificent body; that iron
constitution; that immunity from all ordinary ills; and that lowly
wholesomeness of soul? Physically he was perfect。 He had never
been sick in his life。 He did not know what a headache was。 When I
was so afflicted he used to look at me in wonder; and make me laugh
with his clumsy attempts at sympathy。 He did not understand such a
thing as a headache。 He could not understand。 Sanguine? No
wonder。 How could he be otherwise with that tremendous vitality and
incredible health?
〃Just to show you what faith he had in his glorious star; and; also;
what sanction he had for that faith。 He was a youngster at the
timeI had just met himwhen he went into a poker game at Wailuku。
There was a big German in it; Schultz his name was; and he played a
brutal; domineering game。 He had had a run of luck as well; and he
was quite insufferable; when Lyte Gregory dropped in and took a
hand。 The very first hand it was Schultz's blind。 Lyte came in; as
well as the others; and Schultz raised them outall except Lyte。
He did not like the German's tone; and he raised him back。 Schultz
raised in turn; and in turn Lyte raised Schultz。 So they went; back
and forth。 The stakes were big。 And do you know what Lyte held? A
pair of kings and three little clubs。 It wasn't poker。 Lyte wasn't
playing poker。 He was playing his optimism。 He didn't know what
Schultz held; but he raised and raised until he made Schultz squeal;
and Schultz held three aces all the time。 Think of it! A man with
a pair of kings compelling three aces to see before the draw!
〃Well; Schultz called for two cards。 Another German was dealing;
Schultz's friend at that。 Lyte knew then that he was up against
three of a kind。 Now what did he do? What would you have done?
Drawn three cards and held up the kings; of course。 Not Lyte。 He
was playing optimism。 He threw the kings away; held up the three
little clubs; and drew two cards。 He never looked at them。 He
looked across at Schultz to bet; and Schultz did bet; big。 Since he
himself held three aces he knew he had Lyte; because he played Lyte
for threes; and; necessarily; they would have to be smaller threes。
Poor Schultz! He was perfectly correct under the premises。 His
mistake was that he thought Lyte was playing poker。 They bet back
and forth for five minutes; until Schultz's certainty began to ooze
out。 And all the time Lyte had never looked at his two cards; and
Schultz knew it。 I could see Schultz think; and revive; and splurge
with his bets again。 But the strain was too much for him。〃
〃'Hold on; Gregory;' he said at last。 'I've got you beaten from the
start。 I don't want any of your money。 I've got'〃
〃'Never mind what you've got;' Lyte interrupted。 'You don't know
what I've got。 I guess I'll take a look。'〃
〃He looked; and raised the German a hundred dollars。 Then they went
at it again; back and forth and back and forth; until Schultz
weakened and called; and laid down his three aces。 Lyte faced his
five cards。 They were all black。 He had drawn two more clubs。 Do
you know; he just about broke Schultz's nerve as a poker player。 He
never played in the same form again。 He lacked confidence after
that; and was a bit wobbly。〃
〃'But how could you do it?' I asked Lyte afterwards。 'You knew he
had you beaten when he drew two cards。 Besides; you never looked at
your own draw。'〃
〃'I didn't have to look;' was Lyte's answer。 'I knew they were two
clubs all the time。 They just had to be two clubs。 Do you think I
was going to let that big Dutchman beat me? It was impossible that
he should beat me。 It is not my way to be beaten。 I just have to
win。 Why; I'd have been the most surprised man in this world if
they hadn't been all clubs。'〃
〃That was Lyte's way; and maybe it will help you to appreciate his
colossal optimism。 As he put it he just had to succeed; to fare
well; to prosper。 And in that same incident; as in ten thousand
others; he found his
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