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the house of pride and other tales of hawaii-第24部分
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and we went down; rolling and scrambling and struggling for grips。
He was getting away with me; when some one came running up with a
lantern。 Then I saw his face。 How shall I describe the horror of
it。 It was not a faceonly wasted or wasting featuresa living
ravage; noseless; lipless; with one ear swollen and distorted;
hanging down to the shoulder。 I was frantic。 In a clinch he hugged
me close to him until that ear flapped in my face。 Then I guess I
went insane。 It was too terrible。 I began striking him with my
revolver。 How it happened I don't know; but just as I was getting
clear he fastened upon me with his teeth。 The whole side of my hand
was in that lipless mouth。 Then I struck him with the revolver butt
squarely between the eyes; and his teeth relaxed。〃
Cudworth held his hand to me in the moonlight; and I could see the
scars。 It looked as if it had been mangled by a dog。
〃Weren't you afraid?〃 I asked。
〃I was。 Seven years I waited。 You know; it takes that long for the
disease to incubate。 Here in Kona I waited; and it did not come。
But there was never a day of those seven years; and never a night;
that I did not look out on 。 。 。 on all this 。 。 。 〃 His voice
broke as he swept his eyes from the moon…bathed sea beneath to the
snowy summits above。 〃I could not bear to think of losing it; of
never again beholding Kona。 Seven years! I stayed clean。 But that
is why I am single。 I was engaged。 I could not dare to marry while
I was in doubt。 She did not understand。 She went away to the
States and married。 I have never seen her since。
〃Just at the moment I got clear of the leper policeman there was a
rush and clatter of hoofs like a cavalry charge。 It was the
squarehead。 He had been afraid of a rumpus and he had improved his
time by making those blessed lepers he was guarding saddle up four
horses。 We were ready for him。 Lyte had accounted for three
kokuas; and between us we untangled Burnley from a couple more。 The
whole settlement was in an uproar by that time; and as we dashed
away somebody opened upon us with a Winchester。 It must have been
Jack McVeigh; the superintendent of Molokai。
〃That was a ride! Leper horses; leper saddles; leper bridles;
pitch…black darkness; whistling bullets; and a road none of the
best。 And the squarehead's horse was a mule; and he didn't know how
to ride; either。 But we made the whaleboat; and as we shoved off
through the surf we could hear the horses coming down the hill from
Kalaupapa。
〃You're going to Shanghai。 You look Lyte Gregory up。 He is
employed in a German firm there。 Take him out to dinner。 Open up
wine。 Give him everything of the best; but don't let him pay for
anything。 Send the bill to me。 His wife and the kids are in
Honolulu; and he needs the money for them。 I know。 He sends most
of his salary; and lives like an anchorite。 And tell him about
Kona。 There's where his heart is。 Tell him all you can about
Kona。〃
JACK LONDON
BY HIMSELF
I was born in San Francisco in 1876。 At fifteen I was a man among
men; and if I had a spare nickel I spent it on beer instead of
candy; because I thought it was more manly to buy beer。 Now; when
my years are nearly doubled; I am out on a hunt for the boyhood
which I never had; and I am less serious than at any other time of
my life。 Guess I'll find that boyhood! Almost the first things I
realized were responsibilities。 I have no recollection of being
taught to read or writeI could do both at the age of fivebut I
know that my first school was in Alameda before I went out on a
ranch with my folks and as a ranch boy worked hard from my eighth
year。
The second school were I tried to pick up a little learning was an
irregular hit or miss affair at San Mateo。 Each class sat in a
separate desk; but there were days when we did not sit at all; for
the master used to get drunk very often; and then one of the elder
boys would thrash him。 To even things up; the master would then
thrash the younger lads; so you can think what sort of school it
was。 There was no one belonging to me; or associated with me in any
way; who had literary tastes or ideas; the nearest I can make to it
is that my great…grandfather was a circuit writer; a Welshman; known
as 〃Priest〃 Jones in the backwoods; where his enthusiasm led him to
scatter the Gospel。
One of my earliest and strongest impressions was of the ignorance of
other people。 I had read and absorbed Washington Irving's
〃Alhambra〃 before I was nine; but could never understand how it was
that the other ranchers knew nothing about it。 Later I concluded
that this ignorance was peculiar to the country; and felt that those
who lived in cities would not be so dense。 One day a man from the
city came to the ranch。 He wore shiny shoes and a cloth coat; and I
felt that here was a good chance for me to exchange thoughts with an
enlightened mind。 From the bricks of an old fallen chimney I had
built an Alhambra of my own; towers; terraces; and all were
complete; and chalk inscriptions marked the different sections。
Here I led the city man and questioned him about 〃The Alhambra;〃 but
he was as ignorant as the man on the ranch; and then I consoled
myself with the thought that there were only two clever people in
the worldWashington Irving and myself。
My other reading…matter at that time consisted mainly of dime
novels; borrowed from the hired men; and newspapers in which the
servants gloated over the adventures of poor but virtuous shop…
girls。
Through reading such stuff my mind was necessarily ridiculously
conventional; but being very lonely I read everything that came my
way; and was greatly impressed by Ouida's story 〃Signa;〃 which I
devoured regularly for a couple of years。 I never knew the finish
until I grew up; for the closing chapters were missing from my copy;
so I kept on dreaming with the hero; and; like him; unable to see
Nemesis; at the end。 My work on the ranch at one time was to watch
the bees; and as I sat under a tree from sunrise till late in the
afternoon; waiting for the swarming; I had plenty of time to read
and dream。 Livermore Valley was very flat; and even the hills
around were then to me devoid of interest; and the only incident to
break in on my visions was when I gave the alarm of swarming; and
the ranch folks rushed out with pots; pans; and buckets of water。 I
think the opening line of 〃Signa〃 was 〃It was only a little lad;〃
yet he had dreams of becoming a great musician; and having all
Europe at his feet。 Well; I was only a little lad; too; but why
could not I become what 〃Signa〃 dreamed of being?
Life on a Californian ranch was then to me the dullest possible
existence; and every day I thought of going out beyond the sky…line
to see the world。 Even then there were whis
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