"Mellor!" Pierre grunted1. "How do you Americans say it? Stuffed shirt!"
"Yeah," Johnny McCord said, sitting down to the telephone. "But my boss."
While Pierre was fishing two cans of beer from the refrigerator, Johnny dialed Tissalit. Kate's face lit up the screen. Johnny said, "Hi. I understand the old man wants to talk to me."
"That's right," the girl said, and moved a switch. "Just a minute, Johnny."
Her face faded to be replaced by that of Mellor. Johnny noted2 that as usual the other wore a business suit, complete with white shirt and tie—in the middle of the Sahara!
Mellor was scowling3. "Where've you been, McCord?"
"Checking some pumps near In Ziza," Johnny said evenly.
"Leaving no one at all at camp?" the other said.
Johnny said, "There were at least a score of men here, Mr. Mellor."
"No officers. Suppose an emergency came up?"
Johnny felt like saying, An emergency did come up, two of them in fact. That's why we were all gone at once. But for some reason he decided4 against explaining current happenings at Bidon Cinq until he had a clearer picture. He said, "There are only three of us here, Mr. Mellor. We have to stretch our manpower. Derek Mason had to go over to Amérene el Kasbach with Mohammed Mohmoud and his men to clear out those nomads5 and their livestock6."
"What did they find? Where were the Tuareg from?"
"They haven't returned yet." Automatically, Johnny took up his can of beer and took a swallow from it.
Mellor's eyebrows7 went up. "Drinking this early in the day, McCord?"
Johnny sighed deeply, "Look, Mr. Mellor, Pierre Marimbert and I just returned from several hours in the desert, inspecting pumps. We're dehydrated, so we're drinking cold beer. It tastes wonderful. I doubt if it will lead either of us to a drunkard's grave."
Mellor scowled8 pompously9. He said finally, "See here, McCord—the reason I called—you can be expecting a reporter from one of the French publications—"
"She's here."
"Oh," Mellor said. "I just received notice this morning. Orders are to give her the utmost cooperation. Things are on the touchy10 side right now. Very touchy."
"How do you mean?" Johnny said.
"There are pressures on the highest levels," Mellor said, managing to put over the impression that these matters were above and beyond such as Johnny McCord but that he, Mellor, was privy11 to them.
"What pressures?" Johnny said wearily. "If you want me to handle this woman with kid gloves, then I've got to know what I'm protecting her against, or hiding from her, or whatever the hell I'm supposed to do."
Mellor glared at him. "I'm not sure I always appreciate your flippancy12, McCord," he said. "However, back home the opposition13 is in an uproar14 over our expenditures15. Things are very delicate. A handful of votes could sway the continuance of the whole project."
Johnny McCord closed his eyes in pain. This came up every year or so.
Mellor said, "That isn't all. The Russkies are putting up a howl in the Reunited Nations. They claim the West plans to eventually take over all northwest Africa. That this reforestation is just preliminary to make the area worth assimilating."
Johnny chuckled16 sourly, "Let's face it. They're right."
Mellor was shocked. "Mr. McCord! The West has never admitted to any such scheme."
Johnny sighed. "However, we aren't plowing17 billions into the Sahara out of kindness of heart. The Mali Federation18 alone has almost two million square miles in it, and less than twenty million population. Already, there's fewer people than are needed to exploit the new lands we've opened up."
"Well, that brings up another point," Mellor said. "The Southeast Asia Bloc19 is putting up a howl too. They claim they should be the ones allowed to reclaim20 this area and that it should go into farmland instead of forest."
"They're putting the cart before the horse," Johnny said. "At this stage of the game, the only land they could use really profitably for farming would be along the Niger. We're going to have to forest this whole area first, and in doing so, change the whole climate. Then it'll...."
Mellor interrupted him. "I'm as familiar with the program of the Sahara Reforestation Commission as you are, I am sure, McCord. I need no lecture. See that Miss Desage gets as sympathetic a picture of our work as possible. And, for heaven's sake, don't let anything happen that might influence her toward writing something that would change opinions either at home or in the Reunited Nations."
"I'll do my best," Johnny said sourly.
The other clicked off.
Pierre was handy with another can of beer, already opened. "So Mademoiselle Desage is to be handled with loving care."
Johnny groaned21, "And from what we've seen so far of Mademoiselle Desage, she's going to take quite a bit of loving care to handle."
Outside, they could hear the beating of rotors coming in. Two helicopters, from the sound of it. Beer cans in hand they went over to the window and watched them approach.
"Derek and the girl in one, Mohammed in the other," Pierre said. "Evidently our good captain left the messy work of butchering goats to his men, while he remains22 on the scene to be as available to our girl Hélène as she will allow."
The copters swooped23 in, landed, the rotors came to a halt and the occupants stepped from the cockpits. The Arab ground crew came running up to take over.
Preceded by Hélène Desage, the two men made their way toward the main office. Even at this distance there seemed to be an aggressive lift to the girl's walk.
"Oh, oh, my friend," Pierre said. "I am afraid Mademoiselle Desage is unhappy about something."
Johnny groaned. "I think you're right. But smile, Reuben, smile. You heard the city slicker's orders. Handle her with all the care of a new-born heifer."
Hélène Desage stormed through the door and glared at Johnny McCord. "Do you realize what your men are doing?"
"I thought I did," Johnny said placatingly24.
Derek and Mohammed Mohmoud entered behind her. Derek winked25 at Johnny McCord and made a beeline for the refrigerator. "Beer, everybody?" he said.
Mohammed Mohmoud said, "A soft drink for me, if you please, Mr. Mason."
Derek said, "Sorry, I forgot. Beer, Miss Desage?"
She turned and glared at him. "You did nothing whatsoever26 to prevent them!"
Derek shrugged27. "That's why we went out there, honey. Did you notice how much damage those goats had done to the trees? Thousands of dollars worth."
Johnny said wearily, "What happened?" He sank into the chair behind his desk.
The reporter turned to him again. "Your men are shooting the livestock of those poverty-stricken people."
Mohammed Mohmoud said, "We are keeping an accurate count of every beast destroyed, Mr. McCord." His dark face was expressionless.
Johnny McCord attempted to explain to the girl. "As I told you, Miss Desage, goats are the curse of the desert. They prefer leaves, twigs28 and even the bark of young trees to grass. The Commission before ever taking on this tremendous project arranged through the Mali Federation government to buy up and have destroyed every grazing animal north of the Niger. It cost millions upon millions. But our work couldn't even begin until it was accomplished29."
"But why slaughter30 the livelihood31 of those poor people? You could quite easily insist that they return with their flocks to whatever areas are still available to them."
Derek offered her a can of beer. She seemed to be going to reject it, but a desert-born thirst changed her mind. She took it without thanking him.
The lanky32 Canadian said mildly, "I tried to explain to her that the Tuareg aren't exactly innocent children of the desert. They're known as the Apaches of the Sahara. For a couple of thousand years they've terrified the other nomads. They were slave raiders, bandits. When the Commission started its work the other tribes were glad to sell their animals and take up jobs in the new oases33. Send their kids to the new schools we've been building in the towns. Begin fitting into the reality of modern life."
Her eyes were flashing now. "The Apaches of the Sahara, eh? Bien sur! If I remember correctly, the American Apaches were the last of the Indian tribes which you Americans destroyed. The last to resist. Now you export your methods to Africa!"
Johnny McCord said mildly, "Miss Desage, it seems to be the thing these days to bleed over the fate of the redman. Actually, there are a greater number of them in the United States today than there were when Columbus landed. But even if you do carry a torch for the noble Indian, picking the Apaches as an example is poor choice. They were bandit tribes, largely living off what they could steal and raid from the Pueblo34 and other harder working but less warlike Indians. The Tuareg are the North African equivalent."
"Who are you to judge?" she snapped back. "Those tribesmen out there are the last defenders35 of their ancient desert culture. Their flocks are their way of life. You mercilessly butcher them, rob their women and children of their sole source of food and clothing."
Johnny McCord ran his hand over his face in an unhappy gesture. "Look," he said plaintively36. "Those goats and sheep have already been bought and paid for by the Commission. The Tuareg should have destroyed them, or sold them as food to be immediately butchered, several years ago. Where they've been hiding is a mystery. But they simply have no right to be in possession of those animals, no right to be in this part of the country, and, above all, no right to be grazing in our transplants."
"It's their country! What right have you to order them away?"
Johnny McCord held up his hands, palms upward. "This country is part of the Mali Federation, Miss Desage. It used to be called French Sudan and South Algeria. The government of the Federation gladly accepted the project of reforestating the Sahara. Why not? We've already succeeded in making one of the most poverty-stricken areas in the world a prosperous one. Far from there being unemployment here, we have a labor37 shortage. Schools have opened, even universities. Hospitals have sprung up. Highways have been laid out through country that hadn't even trails before. The Federation is booming. If there are a few Tuareg who can't adapt to the new world, it's too bad. Their children will be glad for the change."
She seated herself stiffly. "I am not impressed by your excuses," she said.
Johnny shrugged and turned to Mohammed Mohmoud who had been standing38 silently through all this, almost as though at attention.
Johnny said, "Did you learn where this band comes from? Where they had kept that many animals for so long without detection?"
The Moslem39 officer shook his head. "They wouldn't reveal that."
Johnny looked at Derek Mason. The Canadian shook his head. "None of them spoke40 French, Johnny. Or if they did, they wouldn't admit it. When we first came up they looked as though they were going to fight. Happily, the size of the captain's command made them decide otherwise. At any rate, they're putting up no resistance. I let them know through the captain, here, that when they got back to Tissalit, or Timbuktu, they could put in a demand for reimbursement41 for their animals—if the animals were legally theirs."
Johnny looked at the Malian officer again. "How come you've returned to camp? Shouldn't you be out there with your men?"
"There were a few things to be discussed," the Moslem said. He looked significantly at the French reporter.
Hélène Desage said, "Let me warn you, I will not tolerate being sent away. I want to hear this. If I don't, I demand you let me communicate immediately with my magazine and with the Transatlantic Newspaper Alliance for whom I am also doing a series of articles on the Sahara Reforestation scheme."
Johnny McCord winced42. He said, "There is nothing going on around here, Miss Desage, that is secret. You won't be ordered away." He turned to Mohammed Mohmoud. "What did you wish to discuss, Captain?"
"First, what about the camels, asses43 and horses?"
"Shoot them. Practically the only graze between here and Tissalit are our trees."
"And how will they get themselves and their property out of this country?" the reporter snapped.
Johnny said wearily, "We'll truck them out, Miss Desage. They and all their property. And while we're doing it, we'll feed them. I imagine, before it's all over it will cost the Commission several thousand dollars." He turned back to the desert patrol captain. "What else?"
From a tunic44 pocket Mohammed Mohmoud brought a handgun and handed it to Johnny McCord. "I thought you might like to see this. They were quite well armed. At first I thought there might be resistance."
Johnny turned the automatic over in his hands, scowling at it. "What's there to see that's special? I don't know much about guns."
Mohammed Mohmoud said, "It was made in Pilsen."
Johnny looked up at him. "Czechoslovakia, eh?"
The other said, "So were most of their rifles."
Hélène Desage snorted in deprecation. "So, we'll drag in that old wheeze45. The red menace. Blame it on la Russie."
Johnny McCord said mildly, "We haven't blamed anything on the Russkies, Miss Desage. The Tuareg have a right to bear arms, there are still dangerous animals in the Mali Federation. And they are free to purchase Czech weapons if they find them better or cheaper than western ones. Don't find an exciting story where there is none. Things are tranquil46 here."
Hélène Desage stared at him. So did Mohammed Mohmoud and Derek Mason for that matter.
Only Pierre Marimbert realized Johnny McCord's position, and he chuckled and went for more beer.
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收听单词发音
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1
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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nomads
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| n.游牧部落的一员( nomad的名词复数 )；流浪者；游牧生活；流浪生活 | |
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livestock
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| n.家畜，牲畜 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pompously
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| adv.傲慢地，盛大壮观地；大模大样 | |
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touchy
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| adj.易怒的；棘手的 | |
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privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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flippancy
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| n.轻率；浮躁；无礼的行动 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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expenditures
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| n.花费( expenditure的名词复数 )；使用；（尤指金钱的）支出额；（精力、时间、材料等的）耗费 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plowing
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| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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federation
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| n.同盟，联邦，联合，联盟，联合会 | |
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bloc
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| n.集团；联盟 | |
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reclaim
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| v.要求归还，收回；开垦 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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placatingly
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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livelihood
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| n.生计，谋生之道 | |
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lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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oases
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| n.（沙漠中的）绿洲( oasis的名词复数 )；（困苦中）令人快慰的地方（或时刻）；乐土；乐事 | |
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pueblo
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| n.（美国西南部或墨西哥等）印第安人的村庄 | |
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defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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Moslem
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| n.回教徒，穆罕默德信徒；adj.回教徒的，回教的 | |
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40
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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41
reimbursement
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| n.偿还，退还 | |
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42
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
asses
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| n. 驴，愚蠢的人，臀部 adv. (常用作后置)用于贬损或骂人 | |
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44
tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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45
wheeze
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| n.喘息声，气喘声；v.喘息着说 | |
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46
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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