She did not know what had happened to her, but I, who had seen this many times in her people, knew.
She was homesick—“bush hungry”—hungry for her own ways, and her own people; for the bush talks, and the camps, and the long long wanderings from place to place, for the fear of Debbil-debbils, for anything that would make her a little bush nigger once more, for anything—if only she could shake off the white man for a little while, and do nothing but live.
We whites sometimes grow very weary and “bush hungry” when we are taken away to the towns, but we can never even guess at the pain of a blackfellow’s longing1 for his own people, and his beloved “bush.”
Poor little Bett-Bett! as I watched her I knew that sooner or later I must let her go, for there was no other cure for her. If I tried to keep her, she would only run away or be ill.
At last she came to me saying—
“Missus! me sick-fellow, I think,” and sat down at my feet.
I talked to her quietly for a little while about her people, and their long walk-abouts; for the sooner she went, the quicker she would be cured.
All at once she knew what she needed.
“Missus,” she cried, springing to her feet, all life and energy again, “Missus, me want walk-about. No more longa you, Missus, longa blackfellow.”
That was all—and I only asked—
“How long, Bett-Bett?”
“Me no more savey, Missus,” she answered, her eyes burning like stars. She could not tell. She only knew that she must stay till she was cured.
Next morning at “sun up” she went. She took nothing with her but the little bag made from her “Shimy Shirt” string, for in that were her most precious treasures. She stuffed all her clothes into her box, wearing only a gaily-striped handkerchief wound round her middle. Even that would soon be gone, for she was going to be just a little black nigger girl for a while.
Sue didn’t like the look of things at all. She sat down and whined2 miserably3, trying to say that the homestead was quite good enough for her, as long as Bett-Bett was in it. Poor little Sue! It was really only her body that was so miserably ugly, for her comical little face was brimful of beautiful love and devotion for her little mistress.
I went as far as the camp with them, where Bett-Bett was to meet her friends. Then I stood and watched this tiny black Princess of the Never-Never, with her faithful speckled subject at her heels, fade away into her wonderful, lonely Palace. Once Sue sat down and whined, and Bett-Bett, looking round, saw me still watching her. She ran back, and without speaking, thrust a little pearl mussel-shell, one of her most treasured belongings4, into my hand; then scampering5 after her friends, disappeared in the forest.
Then I walked back to the homestead, feeling strangely lonely, for I had grown accustomed to the little black shadow that was always chattering6 at my heels; but when I looked at the little pearl-shell, as it lay in my hand, I knew that in a little while Bett-Bett would need her “Missus,” and come back bright and happy again.
The End
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1 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
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2 whined | |
v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 );哀诉,诉怨 | |
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3 miserably | |
adv.痛苦地;悲惨地;糟糕地;极度地 | |
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4 belongings | |
n.私人物品,私人财物 | |
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5 scampering | |
v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑,惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
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6 chattering | |
n. (机器振动发出的)咔嗒声,(鸟等)鸣,啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的,啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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