the red one-第21部分
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the matter with the mill; it was another。 On the fourth day;
Ferguson; my engineer; had to shut down several hours in order to
remedy his own troubles。 I was bothered by the feeder。 After
having the niggers (who had been feeding the cane) pour cream of
lime on the rollers to keep everything sweet; I sent them out to
join the cane…cutting squads。 So I was all alone at that end; just
as Ferguson started up the mill; just as I discovered what was the
matter with the feed…rollers; and just as Motomoe strolled up。
〃He stood there; in Norfolk jacket; pigskin puttees; and all the
rest of the fashionable get…up out of a bandbox; sneering at me
covered with filth and grease to the eyebrows and looking like a
navvy。 And; the rollers now white from the lime; I'd just seen
what was wrong。 The rollers were not in plumb。 One side crushed
the cane well; but the other side was too open。 I shoved my
fingers in on that side。 The big; toothed cogs on the rollers did
not touch my fingers。 And yet; suddenly; they did。 With the grip
of ten thousand devils; my finger…tips were caught; drawn in; and
pulped to … well; just pulp。 And; like a slick of cane; I had
started on my way。 There was no stopping me。 Ten thousand horses
could not have pulled me back。 There was nothing to stop me。
Hand; arm; shoulder; head; and chest; down to the toes of me; I was
doomed to feed through。
〃It did hurt。 It hurt so much it did not hurt me at all。 Quite
detached; almost may I say; I looked on my hand being ground up;
knuckle by knuckle; joint by joint; the back of the hand; the
wrist; the forearm; all in order slowly and inevitably feeding in。
O engineer hoist by thine own petard! O sugar…maker crushed by
thine own cane…crusher!
〃Motomoe sprang forward involuntarily; and the sneer was chased
from his face by an expression of solicitude。 Then the beauty of
the situation dawned on him; and he chuckled and grinned。 No; I
didn't expect anything of him。 Hadn't he tried to knock me on the
head? What could he do anyway? He didn't know anything about
engines。
〃I yelled at the top of my lungs to Ferguson to shut off the
engine; but the roar of the machinery drowned my voice。 And there
I stood; up to the elbow and feeding right on in。 Yes; it did
hurt。 There were some astonishing twinges when special nerves were
shredded and dragged out by the roots。 But I remember that I was
surprised at the time that it did not hurt worse。
〃Motomoe made a movement that attracted my attention。 At the same
time he growled out loud; as if he hated himself; 'I'm a fool。'
What he had done was to pick up a cane…knife … you know the kind;
as big as a machete and as heavy。 And I was grateful to him in
advance for putting me out of my misery。 There wasn't any sense in
slowly feeding in till my head was crushed; and already my arm was
pulped half way from elbow to shoulder; and the pulping was going
right on。 So I was grateful; as I bent my head to the blow。
〃'Get your head out of the way; you idiot!' he barked at me。
〃And then I understood and obeyed。 I was a big man; and he took
two hacks to do it; but he hacked my arm off just outside the
shoulder and dragged me back and laid me down on the cane。
〃Yes; the sugar paid … enormously; and I built for the Princess the
church of her saintly dream; and 。 。 。 she married me。〃
He partly assuaged his thirst; and uttered his final word。
〃Alackaday! Shuttlecock and battle…dore。 And this at; the end of
it all; lined with boilerplate that even alcohol will not corrode
and that only alcohol will tickle。 Yet have I lived; and I kiss my
hand to the dear dust of my Princess long asleep in the great
mausoleum of King John that looks across the Vale of Manona to the
alien flag that floats over the bungalow of the British Government
House。 。 。 〃
Fatty pledged him sympathetically; and sympathetically drank out of
his own small can。 Bruce Cadogan Cavendish glared into the fire
with implacable bitterness。 He was a man who preferred to drink by
himself。 Across the thin lips that composed the cruel slash of his
mouth played twitches of mockery that caught Fatty's eye。 And
Fatty; making sure first that his rock…chunk was within reach;
challenged。
〃Well; how about yourself; Bruce Cadogan Cavendish? It's your
turn。〃
The other lifted bleak eyes that bored into Fatty's until he
physically betrayed uncomfortableness。
〃I've lived a hard life;〃 Slim grated harshly。 〃What do I know
about love passages?〃
〃No man of your build and make…up could have escaped them;〃 Fatty
wheedled。
〃And what of it?〃 Slim snarled。 〃It's no reason for a gentleman to
boast of amorous triumphs。〃
〃Oh; go on; be a good fellow;〃 Fatty urged。 〃The night's still
young。 We've still some drink left。 Delarouse and I have
contributed our share。 It isn't often that three real ones like us
get together for a telling。 Surely you've got at least one
adventure in love you aren't ashamed to tell about … 〃
Bruce Cadogan Cavendish pulled forth his iron quoit and seemed to
debate whether or not he should brain the other。 He sighed; and
put back the quoit。
〃Very well; if you will have it;〃 he surrendered with manifest
reluctance。 〃Like you two; I have had a remarkable constitution。
And right now; speaking of armour…plate lining; I could drink the
both of you down when you were at your prime。 Like you two; my
beginnings were far distant and different。 That I am marked with
the hall…mark of gentlehood there is no discussion 。 。 。 unless
either of you care to discuss the matter now 。 。 。 〃
His one hand slipped into his pocket and clutched the quoit。
Neither of his auditors spoke nor betrayed any awareness of his
menace。
〃It occurred a thousand miles to the westward of Manatomana; on the
island of Tagalag;〃 he continued abruptly; with an air of saturnine
disappointment in that there had been no discussion。 〃But first I
must tell you of how I got to Tagalag。 For reasons I shall not
mention; by paths of descent I shall not describe; in the crown of
my manhood and the prime of my devilishness in which Oxford
renegades and racing younger sons had nothing on me; I found myself
master and owner of a schooner so well known that she shall remain
historically nameless。 I was running blackbird labour from the
west South Pacific and the Coral Sea to the plantations of Hawaii
and the nitrate mines of Chili … 〃
〃It was you who cleaned out the entire population of … 〃 Fatty
exploded; ere he could check his speech。
The one hand of Bruce Cadogan Cavendish flashed pocketward and
flashed back with the quoit balanced ripe for business。
〃Proceed;〃 Fatty sighed。 〃I 。 。 。 I have quite forgotten what I
was going to say。〃
〃Beastly funny country over that way;〃 the narrator drawled with
perfect casualness。 〃You've read this Sea Wolf stuff … 〃
〃You weren't the Sea Wolf;〃 Whiskers broke in with involuntary
positiveness。
〃No; sir;〃 was the snarling answer。 〃The Sea Wolf's dead; isn't
he? And I'm still alive; aren't I?〃
〃Of course; of course;〃 Whiskers conceded。 〃He suffocated head…
first in the mud off a wharf in Victoria a couple of years back。〃
〃As I was saying … and I don't like interruptions;〃 Bruce Cadogan
Cavendish proceeded; 〃it's a beastly funny country over that way。
I was at Taki…Tiki; a low island that politically belongs to the
Solomons; but that geologically doesn't at all; for the Solomons
are high islands。 Ethnographically it belongs to Polynesia;
Melanesia; and Micronesia; because all the breeds of the South
Pacific have gravitated to it by canoe…drift and intricately;
degeneratively; and amazingly interbred。 The scum of the scrapings
of the bottom of the human pit; biologically speaking; resides in
Taka…Tiki。 And I know the bottom and whereof I speak。
〃It was a beastly funny time of it I had; diving out shell; fishing
beche…de…mer; trading hoop…iron and hatchets for copra and ivory…
nuts; running niggers and all the rest of it。 Why; even in Fiji
the Lotu was having a hard time of it and the chiefs still eating
long…pig。 To the westward it was fierce … funny little black
kinky…heads; man…eaters the last Jack of them; and the jackpot fat
and spilling over with wealth … 〃
〃Jack…pots?〃 Fatty queried。 At sight of an irritable movement; he
added: 〃You see; I never got over to the West like Delarouse and
you。〃
〃They're all head…hunters。 Heads are valuable; especially a white
man's head。 They decorate the canoe…houses and devil…devil houses
with them。 Each village runs a jack…pot; and everybody antes。
Whoever brings in a white man's head takes the pot。 If there
aren't openers for a long time; the pot grows to tremendous
proportions。 Beastly funny; isn't it?
〃I know。 Didn't a Holland mate die on me of blackwater? And
didn't I win a pot myself? It was this way。 We were lying at
Lango…lui at the time。 I never let on; and arranged the affair
with Johnny; my boat…steerer。 He was a kinky…head himself from
Port Moresby。 He cut the dead mate's head off and sneaked ashore
in the might; while I whanged away with my rifle as if I were
trying to get him。 He opened the pot with the mate's head; and got
it; too。 Of course; next day I sent in a landing boat; with two
covering boats; and fetched him off with the loot。〃
〃How big was the pot?〃 Whiskers asked。 〃I heard of a pot at Orla
worth eighty quid。〃
〃To commence with;〃 Slim answered; 〃there were forty fat pigs; each
worth a fathom of prime shell…money; and shell…money worth a quid a
fathom。 That was two hundred dollars right there。 There were
ninety…eight fathoms of shell…money; which is pretty close to five
hundred in itself。 And there were twenty…two gold sovereigns。 I
split it four ways: one…fourth to Johnny; one…fourt