“Does the lady go with us, my father?” I asked of Billali, as he stood superintending things in general.
He shrugged1 his shoulders as he answered—
“If she wills. In this country the women do what they please. We worship them, and give them their way, because without them the world could not go on; they are the source of life.”
“Ah,” I said, the matter never having struck me quite in that light before.
“We worship them,” he went on, “up to a point, till at last they get unbearable3, which,” he added, “they do about every second generation.”
“And then what do you do?” I asked, with curiosity.
“Then,” he answered, with a faint smile, “we rise, and kill the old ones as an example to the young ones, and to show them that we are the strongest. My poor wife was killed in that way three years ago. It was very sad, but to tell thee the truth, my son, life has been happier since, for my age protects me from the young ones.”
“In short,” I replied, quoting the saying of a great man whose wisdom has not yet lightened the darkness of the Amahagger, “thou hast found thy position one of greater freedom and less responsibility.”
This phrase puzzled him a little at first from its vagueness, though I think my translation hit off its sense very well, but at last he saw it, and appreciated it.
“Yes, yes, my Baboon4,” he said, “I see it now, but all the ‘responsibilities’ are killed, at least some of them are, and that is why there are so few old women about just now. Well, they brought it on themselves. As for this girl,” he went on, in a graver tone, “I know not what to say. She is a brave girl, and she loves the Lion (Leo); thou sawest how she clung to him, and saved his life. Also, she is, according to our custom, wed5 to him, and has a right to go where he goes, unless,” he added significantly, “She would say her no, for her word overrides6 all rights.”
“And if She bade her leave him, and the girl refused? What then?”
“If,” he said, with a shrug2, “the hurricane bids the tree to bend, and it will not; what happens?”
And then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked to his litter, and in ten minutes from that time we were all well under way.
It took us an hour and more to cross the cup of the volcanic7 plain, and another half-hour or so to climb the edge on the farther side. Once there, however, the view was a very fine one. Before us was a long steep slope of grassy8 plain, broken here and there by clumps9 of trees mostly of the thorn tribe. At the bottom of this gentle slope, some nine or ten miles away, we could make out a dim sea of marsh10, over which the foul11 vapours hung like smoke about a city. It was easy going for the bearers down the slopes, and by midday we had reached the borders of the dismal12 swamp. Here we halted to eat our midday meal, and then, following a winding13 and devious14 path, plunged15 into the morass16. Presently the path, at any rate to our unaccustomed eyes, grew so faint as to be almost indistinguishable from those made by the aquatic17 beasts and birds, and it is to this day a mystery to me how our bearers found their way across the marshes18. Ahead of the cavalcade19 marched two men with long poles, which they now and again plunged into the ground before them, the reason of this being that the nature of the soil frequently changed from causes with which I am not acquainted, so that places which might be safe enough to cross one month would certainly swallow the wayfarer20 the next. Never did I see a more dreary21 and depressing scene. Miles on miles of quagmire22, varied23 only by bright green strips of comparatively solid ground, and by deep and sullen24 pools fringed with tall rushes, in which the bitterns boomed and the frogs croaked25 incessantly26: miles on miles of it without a break, unless the fever fog can be called a break. The only life in this great morass was that of the aquatic birds, and the animals that fed on them, of both of which there were vast numbers. Geese, cranes, ducks, teal, coot, snipe, and plover27 swarmed28 all around us, many being of varieties that were quite new to me, and all so tame that one could almost have knocked them over with a stick. Among these birds I especially noticed a very beautiful variety of painted snipe, almost the size of a woodcock, and with a flight more resembling that bird’s than an English snipe’s. In the pools, too, was a species of small alligator29 or enormous iguana30, I do not know which, that fed, Billali told me, upon the waterfowl, also large quantities of a hideous31 black water-snake, of which the bite is very dangerous, though not, I gathered, so deadly as a cobra’s or a puff32 adder’s. The bull-frogs were also very large, and with voices proportionate to their size; and as for the mosquitoes—the “musqueteers,” as Job called them—they were, if possible, even worse than they had been on the river, and tormented33 us greatly. Undoubtedly35, however, the worst feature of the swamp was the awful smell of rotting vegetation that hung about it, which was at times positively36 overpowering, and the malarious37 exhalations that accompanied it, which we were of course obliged to breathe.
On we went through it all, till at last the sun sank in sullen splendour just as we reached a spot of rising ground about two acres in extent—a little oasis38 of dry in the midst of the miry wilderness—where Billali announced that we were to camp. The camping, however, turned out to be a very simple process, and consisted, in fact, in sitting down on the ground round a scanty39 fire made of dry reeds and some wood that had been brought with us. However, we made the best we could of it, and smoked and ate with such appetite as the smell of damp, stifling40 heat would allow, for it was very hot on this low land, and yet, oddly enough, chilly41 at times. But, however hot it was, we were glad enough to keep near the fire, because we found that the mosquitoes did not like the smoke. Presently we rolled ourselves up in our blankets and tried to go to sleep, but so far as I was concerned the bull-frogs, and the extraordinary roaring and alarming sound produced by hundreds of snipe hovering42 high in the air, made sleep an impossibility, to say nothing of our other discomforts43. I turned and looked at Leo, who was next me; he was dozing44, but his face had a flushed appearance that I did not like, and by the flickering45 fire-light I saw Ustane, who was lying on the other side of him, raise herself from time to time upon her elbow, and look at him anxiously enough.
However, I could do nothing for him, for we had all already taken a good dose of quinine, which was the only preventive we had; so I lay and watched the stars come out by thousands, till all the immense arch of heaven was strewn with glittering points, and every point a world! Here was a glorious sight by which man might well measure his own insignificance46! Soon I gave up thinking about it, for the mind wearies easily when it strives to grapple with the Infinite, and to trace the footsteps of the Almighty47 as he strides from sphere to sphere, or deduce His purpose from His works. Such things are not for us to know. Knowledge is to the strong, and we are weak. Too much wisdom would perchance blind our imperfect sight, and too much strength would make us drunk, and over-weight our feeble reason till it fell and we were drowned in the depths of our own vanity. For what is the first result of man’s increased knowledge interpreted from Nature’s book by the persistent48 effort of his purblind49 observation? It is not but too often to make him question the existence of his Maker50, or indeed of any intelligent purpose beyond his own? The truth is veiled, because we could no more look upon her glory than we can upon the sun. It would destroy us. Full knowledge is not for man as man is here, for his capacities, which he is apt to think so great, are indeed but small. The vessel51 is soon filled, and, were one-thousandth part of the unutterable and silent wisdom that directs the rolling of those shining spheres, and the Force which makes them roll, pressed into it, it would be shattered into fragments. Perhaps in some other place and time it may be otherwise, who can tell? Here the lot of man born of the flesh is but to endure midst toil52 and tribulation53, to catch at the bubbles blown by Fate, which he calls pleasure, thankful if before they burst they rest a moment in his hand, and when the tragedy is played out, and his hour comes to perish, to pass humbly54 whither he knows not.
Above me, as I lay, shone the eternal stars, and there at my feet the impish marsh-born balls of fire rolled this way and that, vapour-tossed and earth-desiring, and methought that in the two I saw a type and image of what man is, and what perchance man may one day be, if the living Force who ordained56 him and them should so ordain55 this also. Oh, that it might be ours to rest year by year upon that high level of the heart to which at times we momentarily attain57! Oh, that we could shake loose the prisoned pinions58 of the soul and soar to that superior point, whence, like to some traveller looking out through space from Darien’s giddiest peak, we might gaze with spiritual eyes deep into Infinity59!
What would it be to cast off this earthy robe, to have done for ever with these earthy thoughts and miserable60 desires; no longer, like those corpse61 candles, to be tossed this way and that, by forces beyond our control; or which, if we can theoretically control them, we are at times driven by the exigencies62 of our nature to obey! Yes, to cast them off, to have done with the foul and thorny63 places of the world; and, like to those glittering points above me, to rest on high wrapped for ever in the brightness of our better selves, that even now shines in us as fire faintly shines within those lurid64 balls, and lay down our littleness in that wide glory of our dreams, that invisible but surrounding Good, from which all truth and beauty comes!
These and many such thoughts passed through my mind that night. They come to torment34 us all at times. I say to torment, for, alas65! thinking can only serve to measure out the helplessness of thought. What is the purpose of our feeble crying in the awful silences of space? Can our dim intelligence read the secrets of that star-strewn sky? Does any answer come out of it? Never any at all, nothing but echoes and fantastic visions! And yet we believe that there is an answer, and that upon a time a new Dawn will come blushing down the ways of our enduring night. We believe it, for its reflected beauty even now shines up continually in our hearts from beneath the horizon of the grave, and we call it Hope. Without Hope we should suffer moral death, and by the help of Hope we yet may climb to Heaven, or at the worst, if she also prove but a kindly66 mockery given to hold us from despair, be gently lowered into the abysses of eternal sleep.
Then I fell to reflecting upon the undertaking67 on which we were bent68, and what a wild one it was, and yet how strangely the story seemed to fit in with what had been written centuries ago upon the sherd. Who was this extraordinary woman, Queen over a people apparently69 as extraordinary as herself, and reigning70 amidst the vestiges71 of a lost civilisation72? And what was the meaning of this story of the Fire that gave unending life? Could it be possible that any fluid or essence should exist which might so fortify73 these fleshy walls that they should from age to age resist the mines and batterings of decay? It was possible, though not probable. The infinite continuation of life would not, as poor Vincey said, be so marvellous a thing as the production of life and its temporary endurance. And if it were true, what then? The person who found it could no doubt rule the world. He could accumulate all the wealth in the world, and all the power, and all the wisdom that is power. He might give a lifetime to the study of each art or science. Well, if that were so, and this She were practically immortal74, which I did not for one moment believe, how was it that, with all these things at her feet, she preferred to remain in a cave amongst a society of cannibals? This surely settled the question. The whole story was monstrous75, and only worthy76 of the superstitious77 days in which it was written. At any rate I was very sure that I would not attempt to attain unending life. I had had far too many worries and disappointments and secret bitternesses during my forty odd years of existence to wish that this state of affairs should be continued indefinitely. And yet I suppose that my life has been, comparatively speaking, a happy one.
And then, reflecting that at the present moment there was far more likelihood of our earthly careers being cut exceedingly short than of their being unduly78 prolonged, I at last managed to get to sleep, a fact for which anybody who reads this narrative79, if anybody ever does, may very probably be thankful.
When I woke again it was just dawning, and the guard and bearers were moving about like ghosts through the dense80 morning mists, getting ready for our start. The fire had died quite down, and I rose and stretched myself, shivering in every limb from the damp cold of the dawn. Then I looked at Leo. He was sitting up, holding his hands to his head, and I saw that his face was flushed and his eye bright, and yet yellow round the pupil.
“Well, Leo,” I said, “how do you feel?”
“I feel as though I were going to die,” he answered hoarsely81. “My head is splitting, my body is trembling, and I am as sick as a cat.”
I whistled, or if I did not whistle I felt inclined to—Leo had got a sharp attack of fever. I went to Job, and asked him for the quinine, of which fortunately we had still a good supply, only to find that Job himself was not much better. He complained of pains across the back, and dizziness, and was almost incapable82 of helping83 himself. Then I did the only thing it was possible to do under the circumstances—gave them both about ten grains of quinine, and took a slightly smaller dose myself as a matter of precaution. After that I found Billali, and explained to him how matters stood, asking at the same time what he thought had best be done. He came with me, and looked at Leo and Job (whom, by the way, he had named the Pig on account of his fatness, round face, and small eyes).
“Ah,” he said, when we were out of earshot, “the fever! I thought so. The Lion has it badly, but he is young, and he may live. As for the Pig, his attack is not so bad; it is the ‘little fever’ which he has; that always begins with pains across the back, it will spend itself upon his fat.”
“Can they go on, my father?” I asked.
“Nay, my son, they must go on. If they stop here they will certainly die; also, they will be better in the litters than on the ground. By to-night, if all goes well, we shall be across the marsh and in good air. Come, let us lift them into the litters and start, for it is very bad to stand still in this morning fog. We can eat our meal as we go.”
This we accordingly did, and with a heavy heart I once more set out upon our strange journey. For the first three hours all went as well as could be expected, and then an accident happened that nearly lost us the pleasure of the company of our venerable friend Billali, whose litter was leading the cavalcade. We were going through a particularly dangerous stretch of quagmire, in which the bearers sometimes sank up to their knees. Indeed, it was a mystery to me how they contrived84 to carry the heavy litters at all over such ground as that which we were traversing, though the two spare hands, as well as the four regular ones, had of course to put their shoulders to the pole.
Presently, as we blundered and floundered along, there was a sharp cry, then a storm of exclamations85, and, last of all, a most tremendous splash, and the whole caravan86 halted.
I jumped out of my litter and ran forward. About twenty yards ahead was the edge of one of those sullen peaty pools of which I have spoken, the path we were following running along the top of its bank, that, as it happened, was a steep one. Looking towards this pool, to my horror I saw that Billali’s litter was floating on it, and as for Billali himself, he was nowhere to be seen. To make matters clear I may as well explain at once what had happened. One of Billali’s bearers had unfortunately trodden on a basking87 snake, which had bitten him in the leg, whereon he had, not unnaturally88, let go of the pole, and then, finding that he was tumbling down the bank, grasped at the litter to save himself. The result of this was what might have been expected. The litter was pulled over the edge of the bank, the bearers let go, and the whole thing, including Billali and the man who had been bitten, rolled into the slimy pool. When I got to the edge of the water neither of them were to be seen; indeed, the unfortunate bearer never was seen again. Either he struck his head against something, or got wedged in the mud, or possibly the snake-bite paralyzed him. At any rate he vanished. But though Billali was not to be seen, his whereabouts was clear enough from the agitation89 of the floating litter, in the bearing cloth and curtains of which he was entangled90.
“He is there! Our father is there!” said one of the men, but he did not stir a finger to help him, nor did any of the others. They simply stood and stared at the water.
“Out of the way, you brutes91!” I shouted in English, and throwing off my hat I took a run and sprang well out into the horrid92 slimy-looking pool. A couple of strokes took me to where Billali was struggling beneath the cloth.
Somehow, I do not quite know how, I managed to push it free of him, and his venerable head all covered with green slime, like that of a yellowish Bacchus with ivy93 leaves, emerged upon the surface of the water. The rest was easy, for Billali was an eminently94 practical individual, and had the common sense not to grasp hold of me as drowning people often do, so I got him by the arm, and towed him to the bank, through the mud [out] of which we were with difficulty dragged. Such a filthy95 spectacle as we presented I have never seen before or since, and it will perhaps give some idea of the almost superhuman dignity of Billali’s appearance when I say that, coughing, half-drowned, and covered with mud and green slime as he was, with his beautiful beard coming to a dripping point, like a Chinaman’s freshly-oiled pig-tail, he still looked venerable and imposing96.
“Ye dogs,” he said, addressing the bearers, as soon as he had sufficiently97 recovered to speak, “ye left me, your father, to drown. Had it not been for this stranger, my son the Baboon, assuredly I should have drowned. Well, I will remember it,” and he fixed98 them with his gleaming though slightly watery99 eye, in a way I saw that they did not like, though they tried to appear sulkily indifferent.
“As for thee, my son,” the old man went on, turning towards me and grasping my hand, “rest assured that I am thy friend through good and evil. Thou hast saved my life: perchance a day may come when I shall save thine.”
After that we cleaned ourselves as best we could, fished out the litter, and went on, minus the man who had been drowned. I do not know if it was owing to his being an unpopular character, or from native indifference100 and selfishness of temperament101, but I am bound to say that nobody seemed to grieve much over his sudden and final disappearance102, unless, perhaps, it was the men who had to do his share of the work.
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1
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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baboon
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| n.狒狒 | |
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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overrides
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| 越控( override的第三人称单数 )； （以权力）否决； 优先于； 比…更重要 | |
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volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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morass
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| n.沼泽，困境 | |
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aquatic
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| adj.水生的，水栖的 | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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wayfarer
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| n.旅人 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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quagmire
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| n.沼地 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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plover
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| n.珩，珩科鸟，千鸟 | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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alligator
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| n.短吻鳄(一种鳄鱼) | |
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iguana
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| n.美洲大蜥蜴，鬣鳞蜥 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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malarious
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| （患）疟疾的，（有）瘴气的 | |
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oasis
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| n.（沙漠中的）绿洲，宜人的地方 | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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42
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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discomforts
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| n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 )；不愉快，苦恼 | |
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dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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46
insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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48
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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purblind
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| adj.半盲的；愚笨的 | |
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maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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51
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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52
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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54
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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55
ordain
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| vi.颁发命令；vt.命令，授以圣职，注定，任命 | |
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ordained
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| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
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attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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pinions
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的第三人称单数 ) | |
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infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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exigencies
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| n.急切需要 | |
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thorny
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| adj.多刺的，棘手的 | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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reigning
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| adj.统治的，起支配作用的 | |
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vestiges
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| 残余部分( vestige的名词复数 )； 遗迹； 痕迹； 毫不 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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fortify
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| v.强化防御，为…设防；加强，强化 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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101
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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102
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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