As the Days here slip by, whilst the Transit1 yet lies too distant for him quite to believe in, Dixon, assailed2 without mercy by his Sensorium, almost in a swoon, finds himself, on Nights of Cloud, less and less able to forgo3 emerging at dusk, cloaked against the Etesian wind, and making directly for the prohibited parts of town. Somewhere a Tune4 In the musi?cal Mode styl'd, by the East Indians, Pelog, which they term appropriate to evening, bells quietly with him as he goes, keeping the rhythm of his stride, and he begins to whistle briskly along. After months of being told by Masters-at-Arms that he might not whistle aboard ship, any resump?tion of the vice5 comes as a freedom almost Torpedick, particularly here, as he follows these Increasingly unlighted lanes of hammered dust, with Lawless Bustle6 at ev'ry Hand, black slaves carrying gamecocks, looking for a Spot Contest, Bandieten exil'd from Batavia with their Retinues8 of Pygmies, Women in Veils, Drosters down on business, Sailors to whom ev'ry Port of Call's but another Imitation of Wapplng, and along the way, at each dimmed crossing, Cape9 Malays waiting with Goods to sell, all of whom have soon come to know Dixon.
"Here, Tuan! Best Dagga, cleaned, graded, ready for your flame..." "Real Dutch gin, bottles with th' original seals, yes! Intact as virgins10..." "Latest ketjap, arriv'd Express from Indo-China, see? Pineapple, Pumplenose, Tamarind,— an hundred flavors, a thousand blends!" Invisible through the long Dutch workday, life in the Cape Night now begins to unwrap everywhere. Dixon smells the broiling12 food, the spices, the livestock13, the night-blooming vines, the ocean voracious14 and immense. He is acquiring a nasal map of the Town, learning, in monitory whiffs, to smell the Watch,— pipes, sheep-fat suppers, pre-Watch gin,— and to take evasive action...learning to lurk15, become part of the night, close enough to slave-borne lanthorns passing by to feel their heat as easily as he may scent16 the burghers' wives through the curtains of their sedan chairs,— the St. Helena coffee, English soap, French dampness. In the distance the nightly curfew cannon17 barks, announcing Dixon's transition to the state of Outlaw18.
He feels like a predatory Animal,— as if this Town were ancient to him, his Hunting-Ground, his Fell so mis-remember'd in nearly all Details, save where lie the Bound'ries he does not plan to cross. Tho' how can there be any room for excess in this gossip-ridden Town, crowded up against the Mountains that wall it from the virid vast leagues of Bushmen's Land beyond? as behind these carv'd doors and Gothickal Gates, in the far Penumbrse of sperm19 tapers20, in Loft21 and Voorhuis, in entryways scour'd by Dusk and blown Sand, these Dutch carry on as if Judgment22 be near as the towering Seas and nothing matter anymore, especially not good behavior, because there's no more time,— the bets are in, ev'ry individual Fate decided23, all cries taken by the great Winds, and 'tis done. Temporally, as geographically24, the End of the World. The unrelenting Vapor25 of debauchery here would not merely tempt26 a Saint,— Heavens, 'twould tempt an Astronomer27. Yet 'tis difficult, if not impossi?ble, for these Astronomers29 to get down to a Chat upon the Topick of Desire, given Dixon's inability to deny or divert the Gusts30 that sweep him, and Mason's frequent failure, in his Melancholy31, even to recognize Desire, let alone to act upon it, tho' it run up calling Ahoy Charlie. "How could you begin to understand?" Mason sighs. "You've no concept of Temptation. You came ashore32 here looking for occasions to transgress33. Some of us have more Backbone34, I suppose...."
"A bodily Part too often undistinguish'd," Dixon replies, "from a Ram-Rod up the Arse."
Jet slides by in the narrow Hallway. "Don't forget to-night, Charles," she sings.
"I'll remember," mutters Mason, adjusting his Wig35.
Dixon beams after her, then back at Mason. "Engaging Youngster...?”
"She is a fine young Woman, Dixon, and I shan't hear a Word more."
"Tell me," blinks Dixon, "what'd I say?" But Mason has already clam-ber'd away up the Stairs. Passing thro' the Hallway a bit later, Dixon observes Mason now in deep conversation with Greet, the two of them nervous as cats. "Mutton Stew36 this evening, I'm told," Dixon cries in cheery Salute37. The Girl shrieks39, and runs off into the Kitchen.
Mason snarls40. "Time hanging heavy, 's that it? What can I do to help? Just name it."
"Why aye,— perhaps when the Ladies have retir'd,— " Thus bicker41?ing they pass into the Dining-Room. After the Cape custom, the Dutch?man has lock'd his front door for the evening meal, which he now regards, smoldering42, less predictable than an Italian Volcano.
"I see you have discovered another Cape delicacy43, Mr. Dixon," Johanna in an effort not to get into any verbal exchange with Mason, whilst her husband is in the room, "— our Malays call it ketjap."
"Girls, don't even want you looking at it. Filthy44 Asian stuff," Cornelius commands thro' clouds of aromatic46 pipe-smoke. "Even" (puff) "if some?thing has to be done" (puff) "to cover up the taste of this food." Another volcanickal Emission47, whilst he grimly attacks his slice of the evening's mutton in Tail-fat. Over the course of its late owner's life, the Tail has grown not merely larger and more fatty, but also, having absorbed years of ovine Flatulence ever blowing by, to exhibit a distinct Taste, perhaps priz'd by cognoscenti somewhere, though where cannot readily be imagin'd.
Dixon meanwhile is struggling with the very Chinese Concoction48, or rather with its slender Bottle, out of whose long neck he finds he has trouble getting the stuff to flow. "Strike her upon the bottom," whispers Els, "and perhaps she will behave." Dixon does a quick triple-take among the faces of the women, a Jocularity poised49 upon his Tongue but peering out warily50, not quite trusting the open. He notes, at the far cor?ner of his visual field, Mason attempting to hide behind, perhaps even beneath, the food on his plate. Cornelius, president inside his blue tobacco Fumulus, seems unaware51 of the tangle53 of purposes in the room. Greet is playing vigorously with locks of her Hair, trying to remember what her sisters above and below think she does and doesn't know at this point in the Saga54, as against what her Mother believes. What Mason may be thinking is of course unimportant to any of them.
At last, the relentless55 Supper done, the Vrooms, as is their Custom, retire out front to the Stoep, Johanna and the Girls swiftly choosing Seats to Windward of Cornelius and his Watch-fire, leaving the Astronomers to light what Pipes they may in self-defense.
"There is something irresistibly56 perverse," as the Revd then noted58, "about a young white woman sitting upon a Stoep in the evening, among a steady coming and going of black servants meant, as in the Theater of the Japanese, to be read as invisible, whilst she poses all a-shine, she and her friends. According to which steps they sit upon, and which are then claim'd by the Feet of young Sparks who might wish to linger, the possible viewing-angles, for both Parties, are more or less multiplied, each combination of Steps having its own elaborate Codes for what is allow'd, and what transgresses59, from Eye-play to the readjustment of skirts and underskirts, and the length of time 'tis consider'd proper to gaze. Some Belles61 like to 'boss' their male Slaves about in front of the young men, whilst others wish to be caught gazing after Girl-slaves with unconceal'd envy. Over the Range of their Desires, they are shameless, these Dutch girls of all ages, for they are the Girls of the end of the world, and the only reason for anyone to endure church all day Sunday is to be reminded of the Boundaries there to be o'erstepp'd. The more aware of their Sins as they commit them, the more pleas'd be these Cape folk,— more so than Englishmen, who tend to perish from the levels of Remorse62 attending any offense63 graver than a Leer."
Slowly, gravely, the Younkers dance up and down the Steps in the Evening. Their talk is of Roof-tops, Arch-ways, Sheds, and Ware52?houses— any place secure from Traffick long enough for a Skirt to be lifted or Breeches unbuckl'd. Johanna keeps looking over at Mason, as if offering to translate. A young Gallant64 arrives bearing a diminutive65 three-string'd Lute38, and dropping to one Knee before Jet,— tho' she has dele?gated the sighing to her sisters,— sings his own original Paean66 to Cape Womanhood,—
Oh,
Cape Girrl,
In the Ocean Wind,
Fairer than the full Moon,
Secret as a Sin,—
Sc You're a,
Light Lass,
So the Lads all say,
Sitting on your Stoep, hop-
-Ing Love will pass today...
You keep your Slaves about,
As don't we all,
Yet no one in love is brave,
And even a Slave may fall...
In love with,—
Cape Girl,
When South-Easters blow,
Thro' my Dreams, I know,
To your Arms I'll go,
Cape Girl, don't say no.
"And self-Accompanied, Wim!— what is that tiny Object in your Lap that you've been whanging your Triads upon, there, and so rhythmic-kally, too?"
"Found this down at that Market near the Gallows,— 'tis a Fiji Islander's Guitar, first introduc'd there two hundred years ago by Por?tuguese Jesuits, according to the Malay that sold me it."
"I see the Jesuit part clearly enough," Greet remarks.
"So long as you don't grasp it," murmurs67 Els.
'Tis an open enough Game, with a level of Calculation, among these Daughters of the Low Country, no less forgiving than the sort of thing that may be heard, any slack-time, among the Girls in the Company Brothel at the Slave Lodge,— two distinct Worlds, the Company maintaining their separation, setting Prices, seeking as ever total control, over the sex industry in Cape Town. Yet do there remain a few independents, brave girls and boys who are young enough to enjoy the danger of going up against the Compagnie. Sylphs of mixed race, mixed gender69, who know how to vanish into the foothills, and the Droster Net-work, even finding safety beyond, in the land of the Hottentots. Yet 'tis difficult to leave the life in town, to give up that sudden elation70, when the ships appear 'round the Headlands, Spanish Dollars everywhere in golden Infestation71, every woman in town, from the stoniest72 white Church-Pillar to the giddiest black Belle60 in from the Hinterland, at once coming alert, and even some-
times a-jangle. The taverns73 are jumping, sailors bring their pipes and fiddles74 ashore, Dagga smoke begins to scent the air, voices lift, music pulses, the nights bloom like Jasmine.
Tis then Mason and Dixon are most likely to be out rambling75 among all the Spices armies us'd to kill for, up in the Malay quarter, a protruded76 tongue of little streets askew77 to the Dutch grid78, reaching to the base of Table Mountain. The abrupt79 evening descends80, the charcoal81 fires come glowing one by one to life, dotting the hill-side, night slowly fills with cooking aromas,— shrimp82 paste, tamarinds, coriander and cumin, hot chilies83, fish sauces, and fennel and fenugreek, ginger84 and lengkua. Windows and doorways85 open to Lives finite but overwhelming, house?holds gathering86 against the certain night....
Greet Vroom slips away with Austra to follow the Astronomers. "They visit different Kitchens, and eat," she reports back to her sisters, nodding her head, a little out of breath. "They wander about, eating and talking. Every now and then they'll step into one of those seamen's taverns."
"What do they eat?"
"Everything. Half of it is food you wouldn't dream of!
Out in the Dark where the Malays all feast,
Spices and Veg'table Treats from the East,
Peppers as hot as the Hearth-sides of Hell,
Things that Papa has neglected to tell,—
Curried87 wild Peacock and Springbok Ragout,
Bilimbi Pickles88, and Tamarinds, too,
Bobotie, Frikkadel, Fried Porcupine89,
Glasses a-brim with Constantia Wine, singing,
Pass me that Plate,
Hand me that Bowl,
Let's have that Bottle,
Toss me a Roll,'
Scoffing90 and swilling91, out under the Sky,
Leaving the Stars to go silently by.
"Greet,— uncomb'd, sentimental92 Greet," Jet gushes93. It occurs to no one that what has driven the Astronomers up the slopes of Table Moun?tain may be, at last, the Table Vroom. The pipe smoke, the Sheep-fat, the strange Dinner-ware, everything, dishes, spoons, Yes even twinkling
through the mutton broth68 at the bottom of one's spoon, are these,— well, stories,— Battles, religious Events, Personages with rapt Phizzes stand?ing about in Rays from above, pointing aloft at who knows what, violent scenes of martyrdom from the religious wars of the previous century, obscure moral instructions written in all-but-unreadable lettering, and in Dutch withal,— framing the potatoes on one's plate, or encircling some caudal Stuffata being passed from eater to eater, and rotated as it goes, so that each gets to view a separate episode of some forever obscure doctrinal dispute— Soon enough Mason and Dixon are desperate. Pre?tending astronomical94 Chores up at the Observatory95, Bowls and Cutlery conceal'd in their Cloaks, they steal away, thinking of Oceanick Fish, African Game, hot Peppers, spices of the East.
"I believe in Vibrations," declares Mason, "— I believe, that Vibra?tions from that horrid96 family get into their food, which is difficult enough to enjoy to begin with,—
"And?"
"I'd rather be out here."
"Why aye,"— as far projected into the Sea, each will confide97, as Land may go, out blessedly alone upon the furthest Point, nothing beyond but the uninterrupted planetary Seas of the 4o's, the West Wind Express, and the Regions of Ice, and the Mystery at the exact Other Pole,— the night Fog creeping like quicksilver, all but surrounded by a Waste where the Seas might grow higher than either Astronomer can imagine without Fear, set up and waiting for a Southern Star, Lumina of a shapely Con7?stellation unnam'd, forever below any British Horizon, to culminate98.
They have come upon a Queue forming up a dark street, and decide to join it, Dixon in his red coat, boots with three-inch heels, and mysteriously cockaded hat, Mason, after an hour before his traveler's Mirror, having assum'd rather a darken'd, volish neutrality. As they move slowly toward the makeshift kitchen-tent, more and more of its candle-lit interior may be seen. A man in a Sarong cooks as though possessed99, running about with a Krees to gaze too long at whose bright wavy100 edge might put a Man's Thumbs a-prickle, as his Mind in a Bind,— poking101 embers precisely102 into huge gusts of flame, stirring the contents of various pots, peeling Garlick, deveining and Butterflying shrimps103, slicing vegetables, boning and fillet?ing fish, performing perhaps a dozen such Tasks more or less simultane- ously with this single Implement104, whilst beds of embers glow, and from iron pans rise huge clouds of smoke and steam, so fragrant105 that breathing them is like eating the first Plate-ful of a large Meal,— and his wife hands the food out the window and collects the money, and older children carry and prepare whilst younger ones tend the babies in the dark, watching the Progress of the Krees, which they have seen fly, heard sing, and, in the presence of a pure well, felt a-tremble, there being an odd number of waves to its Blade, signifying Alliance with the correct Forces.
"Amazing," Mason somehow having fallen into conversation with one of the Children. "In my country, near my Home, since the Mills came, our pure Wells have been well hidden, and we must now ask Dowsers, who use long Hazel Wands in much the same way, to find them."
"Have the Dutch conquer'd your land, too?"
"Oh, dear me, no,— " Mason prim'd to chuckle106 in condescension107 till Dixon, infernally a-beam, says, "William of Orange, what about him? Tha wouldn't style thah' a Conquest?"
"Captain Jere, Good Evening, the Satay Deluxe108 as usual?"
"Looks bonnie, Rakhman,— what are those yellow bits there?"
"Mangoes. Still on the green side tonight, but tomorrow,— tomorrow's the Day."
Accordingly, next morning at the first risen Gull's cry, "Eeh, Mason,— the Mangoes are in!"
"Bring me back a likely one," Mason mutters, "and perhaps I shan't kill you." Yet out of something like Duty ow'd his Senses, he finds himelf shambling down to the Market, yawning in the sun, there to behold109 Mountains of the Fruit apparently110 all come to Ripeness at the same Moment,— causing a Panic, for all must then be pick'd in a short time from the Groves111 up-country and rush'd directly to Town, to lie in these towering Heaps, waiting to be lifted and apprais'd, as they find the Rev57?erend Wicks Cherrycoke doing when they arrive.
"Well met, Gentlemen! What a Morning! One feels as Adam felt,— even better, as Eve."
"I shall kill him now," Mason declares.
"Eeh, get the old Nozzle down upon this one, Mason,— a Beauty, 's it not?" The Aroma45 captures Mason's Attention. "Aye, tha'd better eat thah' one now thy Nose has been all over it.”
"Why don't I throw it at you instead?" They are soon retir'd to a nearby Stoep, where they sit eating Mangoes. Neighboring Stoeps are similarly occupied.
"Thought you'd sail'd," Dixon says.
"The Seahorse proceeds without me. East of the Cape, Captain Grant was pleas'd to inform me, men of Christ are not desir'd,— tho' why, he refus'd to say, even when I suggested that if clergy112 be bann'd, then what is contemplated113 out there must be too terrible to speak of, in any way but secretly."
"I, personally, am looking for that B-st-rd St.-Foux," Captain Grant declar'd. "My Seahorse is a damn'd snappy little Package, and I suppose I've grown to love her, for her Honor is become important to me."
"Shall I be safer in Cape Town?" inquir'd the Revd.
"Safe enough. You shouldn't have long to wait. Indiamen come thro' all the time, tho' they are most inflexibly114 anti-clerickal Folk,— their Cargo115 spaces are purposely built a Tun short to avoid the law that requires a Chaplain on board,— so you'd do better to represent yourself in some other line of work."
"Tha could pretend to be an Astronomer," Dixon says, "— all tha need to know, I can teach thee in five minutes."
"Surveying won't even take that long," snaps Mason. "Piss runneth downhill, and Pay-Day is Saturday,— now you're a qualified116 Fence-runner."
The Revd holds aloft a Mango, as if 'twere a Host. "Had I gone, I should have miss'd this. Regard how the fruit takes its shape and feel from this great seed-case within, which the Spanish call el Hueso, 'the Bone.' This Mango handles like flesh,— to peel it is to flay117 it,— to bite into it is to eat uncook'd Flesh,— though I can imagine as well uncom?fortable religious questions arising."
Mason, who has been shock'd by impieties118 far more venial119, might have shar'd his Moral Displeasure were the Topick not Food, allowing him promptly120 to advert121 to his own Iliad of dietary Misfortune here among the Dutch. "Their emphasis upon roots,— the eternal boiling,— the absence of even salt, we have already review'd. 'Tis the Sheep,— Heaven forfend we should ever find a Moment without Sheep in it. Sheep, where I come from, are more important than all but a few humans. A boy is as likely to learn to skate upon a Shearing-floor as upon the Ice. The smell, at some times of year sensible for Miles, of Sheep, and wool-fat, and that queasy122 Nidor of Lambs baking in ovens meant for bread.. .the very nasal Patina123 that met me here, upon entering my first Dutch house, of Mutton-fat vaporiz'd and recondens'd, again and again, working its way insidiously124, over the years of cooking, into all walls, furniture, draperies, within a cer?tain radius125 of that kitchen,— ahrrhh! How foolishly did I believe I'd escap'd these perfumes of Gloucestershire,— nay,— at the Dutchman's Table, I am return'd to them, as to a kind of Hell."
The young clergyman nods in apparent sympathy. "Then eating Malay food seems a cheap enough Deliverance,— bearing in mind that the cui?sine of a people whose recreations include running Amok is necessarily magickal in purpose and effect, and no one is altogether exempt126." Later that night, writing in his Journal, adding,— "Lamb of God, Eucharist of bread,— what Mr. Mason could not bear, were the very odors of Blood-Sacrifice and Transsubstantiation, the constant element in all being the Oven, the Altar wherebefore his Father presided."
A few pages later, he admits, "Of course, 'twas none of my affair,— yet such was the unease of those Days, as I waited for a Ship to convey me further East, that I sought distraction127 in the study of other Lives,— usu?ally without their Principals knowing of it. So found we ourselves, for the moment, as some might say beached, just here, upon the Brink128 of all the Indies, before the Unfolding, fearful and inexhaustible, of the East.”
Despite all wish to avoid it, here they are, Vrou Vroom and Mason, in an upper Bedroom, in unshutter'd afternoon light swiftly fading, harkening to each sound in the House, waiting for the "Bull's Eye," a strange dark cloud with a red center, to appear over Table Mountain, and grow swiftly, till but minutes later the North-Wester shall sweep upon them. "I am not one of these Cape women," she is whispering, " - tho' I have ever envied their reputations. Next to Cornelius, so dreamt I, must other men figure as Adonises, and I should certainly have my pick. Alas130. Whenever in earnest I have tried to flirt131, each time my choice proves to be worse than Cornelius. I ought to've given up, and settled for being a Churchly ideal."
"And instead?" Mason finds to his surprize that he cannot refrain from inquiring, his Jealousy132 nonetheless more peevish133 than substantial.
Misunderstanding, she hangs her head, in lewd135 innocence136 erring137 upon the side of Eros, and whispers, " - I have chosen to be a very wicked woman."
"Who it seems will commit any sin."
Giggling138 awkward as a Girl, her face a-glow,— the first time he's observ'd her thus. She has been trying to unbutton her Bodice...the trembling in her hands and the failing light resist her...at last with a small growl139 she grabs both sides of the Garment and rips it in two, or, actually, twain. The light in the room is darkening with unnatural140 speed, turning her nipples and mouth black as ashes, her fair hair nearly invis- ible. There is a sudden hammering upon the Door. Mason jumps up and runs 'round the Room twice before locating the Window, which, without looking back, he raises, climbs thro', and vanishes from with a receding141 wail142 and a Thump143 somewhere below.
In runs Jet. "Charles, we've only five minutes,— Oh hello, Mamma."
"What would Mr. Mason be doing here, my Imp28?" inquires merry Johanna.
"What's happen'd to your Bodice?"
In a corner, the Darkling Beetle144 rustles145 in its Cage, its Elytra the same unforgiving white as the great sand-waste call'd 'Kalahari' lying north of here, where the creature was taken up, brought Leagues overland to the Cape with hundreds of its kind, arriving hungry and disoriented, to be set out with others, like a great sugar-iced Confection, at some Harbor-side Market frequented by Sailors and the Strange. So far in its Life, it has never seen Rain, tho' now it can feel something undeniably on the way, something it cannot conceive of, perhaps as Humans apprehend146 God,— as a Force they are ever just about to become acquainted with—
The storm arrives, and goes on for the next three days. Cornelius, up-country, is prevented by floods from returning. The logistics are both simple and hellishly next to impossible, for tho' the Guest rooms at Zee-manns' lie empty,— Dixon being across town at a certain Malay estab?lishment, rain'd in like ev'ryone else,— and Mason is known for not responding to knocks upon the door, yet is Johanna oblig'd to arrange plausible147 absences from her daily schedule, with dozens of sets of eyes, within the house and outside it, scrutinizing148 her every step.
No sooner, for example, is her Mother out the door than in comes bouncing Els, all a-soak. "It's fantastic!" she cries. "The Season I live for! Come, Charles. Do the English kiss in the Rain?"
Down the street somebody's roof collapses149 in a sodden150 rumble151. All structural152 Surfaces here, even Vertical153 ones, touch'd by Rain, begin at once to take up Water like great rigid154 Sponges, and after enough of it, dissolving, crumble155 away. A Bell upon a Roof-top begins to ring. Fruit Peels lie squash'd and slippery in the Gutters156 that run down to the Canals, where the Slaves are out in the Storm, doing their Owners' Laundry, observing and reading each occurrence of Blood, Semen, Excrement157, Saliva158, Urine, Sweat, Road-Mud, dead Skin, and other such Data of Biography, whose pure form they practice Daily, before all is lixiviated 'neath Heaven. In the rainy-day Shadows beneath the Arcades159, Pipesful of Tobacco pulse brightly, and bob about in front of watchful160 Faces. Ev'rything smells of wet Lime and Sewage. A stray'd Sheep cowers161 against a Wall too high for it, bleating162 fretfully. Mason is not having fun. "Chase me," at last demands the mischievous163 Snip164, and away she shoots up the Lane and gone. No matter how he rotates his hat, Mason cannot prevent a Stream of Water from funneling165 somewhere onto his Person. He arrives back at the Vrooms' skidding166 in the Mud, Wig-powder running down his Shoulders and Lapels in a White-Lead Wash. The Door is lock'd. Inside he hears Els and her sisters laughing. Furious, he stalks thro' the down-pour around to the back, locates a Ladder, and props167 it against a Balcony whose Window seems open, but when he gets to it, is not. With no more than a precarious168 hold upon the Balcony, Mason now feels activity beneath his Soles, and looks down in time to see the Ladder being deftly169 abstracted and taken 'round the Cor?ner in malicious170 fun by Jet, who is for some reason feeling under?appreciated today. As he hangs there in Misery171, tasting Ocean Salt in the Wind, watching in a spirit of Distance, "Soon," he mutters aloud, "to be Detachment," the Bolts connecting the House to the Balcony, which was never meant to bear much more weight than that of an ado?lescent Female's Foot, begin to slide, protesting with horrid sucking Shrieks, out of the Lime and Sand that have held them there so orna?mentally till now. "What," he is heard to exclaim, "— not again?" before jumping clear of the falling Iron-work, landing, mercifully with?out more than Contusions and Pain, upon the soak'd Earth. This time he decides to lie for a while, as he imagines in Surrender to the Forces of Nature, allowing Heaven's Rains to visit as they will. After a bit he notices a peculiar172 weight to the Drops striking his Face, and withal a distinctly lateral173 motion, as of something actually crawling—
"Ahrrh!" He plucks from his Face a Beetle, about half an inch long and emitting green light as if bearing a Candle within. He rolls his Gaze wildly about,— all 'round him, all over Cape Town, as 'twill prove, these Insects, swept here over Mountains and Deserts, are falling. It is not a message from any Beyond Mason knows of. It is an introduction to the Rainy Season.
"What'd we respectfully request? Skanderoon, wasn't it? only to be anointed with the suppos'd contents of our cowardly Breeches, and sent here, where they know how bad the seeing is. What madness are they about? We'll be lucky to see the Sun here,— and how many Years will give us clear Nights enough to fix our Latitude174 and Longitude175?"
"It wouldn't be like this in Skanderoon," Dixon agrees. "They say, 'tis nearly Europe there."
"Fabulous176 Skanderoon," sighs Mason. They are presently part-singing, to a sort of medium-tempo Cuban Rhythm,
Skan-deroon,
I'd rather be in, Skanderoon,
Tho' 'twould have to be quite soon,—
This June,—
In Skan-
Deroon!
Not far away,—
Lesser177 Asia, so they say,—
Minarets178 and Palms a-sway,
We might lounge about all day,—
Stuf-fing our Gobs,— With Turkish Delight,— Securing our Obs,— Then beginning, the Night...
Crescent Moon, Caravan179, and Muezzin's Tune, I'll not be forgetting soon Souvenirs of, Skanderoon!
What a Hope. Rain rules now, and shall, until October. The Girls fol?low Mason one afternoon up to the Observatory, up onto the first slopes of the Mountain where they are forbidden ever to go,— "Father says because of the African Boys," they proclaim solemnly to Austra, who laughs merrily.
"Boys! Babies, rather. Stay close to me,— I'll protect you." She wishes to add, " 'Tis not with them your debit180 grows, but with the African Women from whom you take, take without pause or apology," but aloud says, "Just try to wear something over your Hair,— the only blond they see up where we're going is when the Kommando ride through, and the sight of it sometimes causes them to act in haste."
"I shall let mine blow wild," Els cries.
"Cover my Hair?" Jet astonish'd. "As, I haven't better things to do?"
"You'll want to keep it out of the Wind," says Greet.
"And end up with Shawl Hair? I think not, Greet." But they are by now too far ascended181 for her to return home unaccompanied. They are ascended into Africa. At some point all note that they can no longer hear the Town. That is all it takes, to deliver them into Africa. They can see the Bay, and the Sea beyond, and the Ships and Boats, but the girls have lost the Voices and Percussion182 and rough Breath of the Town,— they are of the Continent now, and the Town is a Spectacle in a Museum of Mar11?vels, and the Rain-Beetles are in Song. And who gazes back upon it, too long or even too sentimentally183, may never see it again. Or may turn to Salt, and be white for Eternity184.
Mason, far ahead of them, an earthen Trudging185 among the Lanes, appears to be making for a curious, squat186 Cylindrick Structure with a Cone187-shap'd roof, perch'd high enough to keep above the morning Fog,— or so the Astronomers hope.
; 'Tis a Gnome's House!" whispers Els.
Jet is gazing at the ends of large fistfuls of her Hair. "Look at these,— these should have been soaking in Egg-Whites half an Hour ago,— do you know what happens if I miss one day? They're already split beyond belief,— "
"Has anyone notic'd the Light?" inquires Greet. For the Sun is dark?ening rapidly, whilst striking to a remarkable188 Hellish Red all surfaces that not so long ago were reflecting the simple Day-light.
"What?— Never been this close to the Bull's Eye?" Austra smiles grimly. "Welcome to the Droster Republick, Misses. Up here, some believe the Bull's Eye lives, and goes about.. .selecting those it shall take."
"We must ask Mr. Mason for Shelter," cries Jet. They flee, all shivers and screams, a-splash up the hill-side to the Observatory just as the Storm breaks, arriving at the Door-Way soak'd through. Mason is not cow?ering, he will later explain,— tho' he is sorry if that's what it look'd like,— rather standing134 guard over the Instruments,— whilst Dixon, no less warily, opens the Door, and in tumble the Bunch of them, rowdy and wet.
The Carpenter of the Seahorse and his men have put up a structure solid as a Man o' War, tarr'd the Roof and all the joints189, rigg'd a couple of Blocks in a Gun-Purchase Arrangement allowing the Gentlemen to slide the Shutter129 open and clos'd from inside. "Get her down to the Water, step a Mast, put up some Canvas, and ye may sail her home," the Carpenter assur'd them. It holds six snugly,— less awkwardly if, as Jet and Els now discover, two lie together upon one Astronomer's Couch,— as, promptly, do Austra and Greet, upon the other.
The storm drums at the Cone above, which sheds the Rain in Sheets. There is nothing to drink but Cape Madeira, a thick violet Liquid one must get thro' six or seven Bottles of even to begin to feel at ease. There is no Question of Working, all Drudgery190 Logarithmick having been brought up to Date, the Clock seen to, the Shutter-Tackle made secure.
"Now then," Mason rapping upon the Table's Edge with a sinister-looking Fescue of Ebony, whose List of Uses simple Indication does not quite exhaust, whilst the Girls squirm pleasingly, "as you young Ladies have been kind enough to visit during School-Hours, we must be sure that your Education advance upon some Topick,— wherefore our Lesson for today shall be, the forthcoming Transit of Venus."
Cries of, "Oh, please, Sir!" and "Not the Transit of Venus!"
"Then what in the World are thee up here for," Dixon's Eye-Balls ingenuously191 gibbous, "if not out of Curiosity as to what we do?"
They all take looks at one another, Austra at length detaching to smirk192 at Mason and cast her Eyes heavenward, where the Roar of the Storm goes on unabating. Her blond Procuresses all begin to expostulate at once, and Mason understands that the vocal193 assaults of the Vroom Poul?try are not inborn194, but rather learn'd in this World from their Owners.
"Ladies, Ladies," Mason calls. " - You've seen her in the Evening Sky, you've wish'd upon her, and now for a short time will she be seen in the Day-light, crossing the Disk of the Sun,— and do make a Wish then, if you think it will help.— For Astronomers, who usually work at night, 'twill give us a chance to be up in the Day-time. Thro' our whole gazing-lives, Venus has been a tiny Dot of Light, going through phases like the Moon, ever against the black face of Eternity. But on the day of this Tran?sit, all shall suddenly reverse,— as she is caught, dark, embodied195, solid, against the face of the Sun,— a Goddess descended196 from light to Matter.”
"And our Job," Dixon adds, "is to observe her as she transits197 the face of the Sun, and write down the Times as she comes and goes...?"
"That's all? You could stay in England and do that," jaunty198 little Chins and slender Necks, posing, and re-posing, blond girls laughing together, growing sticky and malapert.
The Girls are taken on a short but dizzying journey, straight up, into the ?ther, until there beside them in the grayish Starlight is the ancient, gravid Earth, the Fescue become a widthless Wand of Light, striking upon it brilliantly white-hot Arcs.
"Parallax. To an Observer up at the North Cape, the Track of the Planet, across the Sun, will appear much to the south of the same Track as observ'd from down here, at the Cape of Good Hope. The further apart the Obs North and South, that is, the better. It is the Angular Distance between, that we wish to know. One day, someone sitting in a room will succeed in reducing all the Observations, from all 'round the World, to a simple number of Seconds, and tenths of a Second, of Arc,— and that will be the Parallax.
"Let us hope some of you are awake early enough, to see the Transit. Remember to keep both eyes open, and there will be the three Bodies, lined up perfectly,— the Heliocentric system in its true Mechanism199, His artisanship how pure." The Girls keep their Glances each looping 'round the others, like elaborately curl'd Tresses, trying to see if they should be understanding this, or,— being cruel young beauties ev'ry one,— even caring.
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1
transit
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| n.经过，运输；vt.穿越，旋转；vi.越过 | |
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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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forgo
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| v.放弃，抛弃 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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con
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| n.反对的观点，反对者，反对票，肺病；vt.精读，学习，默记；adv.反对地，从反面；adj.欺诈的 | |
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retinues
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| n.一批随员( retinue的名词复数 ) | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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virgins
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| 处女，童男( virgin的名词复数 )； 童贞玛利亚（耶稣之母） | |
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mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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broiling
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| adj.酷热的，炽热的，似烧的v.（用火）烤（焙、炙等）( broil的现在分词 )；使卷入争吵；使混乱；被烤（或炙） | |
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livestock
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| n.家畜，牲畜 | |
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voracious
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| adj.狼吞虎咽的，贪婪的 | |
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lurk
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| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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sperm
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| n.精子，精液 | |
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tapers
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| （长形物体的）逐渐变窄( taper的名词复数 )； 微弱的光； 极细的蜡烛 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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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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geographically
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| adv.地理学上，在地理上，地理方面 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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astronomer
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| n.天文学家 | |
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imp
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| n.顽童 | |
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astronomers
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| n.天文学者，天文学家( astronomer的名词复数 ) | |
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gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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transgress
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| vt.违反，逾越 | |
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backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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lute
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| n.琵琶，鲁特琴 | |
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39
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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snarls
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| n.（动物的）龇牙低吼( snarl的名词复数 )；愤怒叫嚷（声）；咆哮（声）；疼痛叫声v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的第三人称单数 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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bicker
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| vi.(为小事)吵嘴，争吵 | |
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42
smoldering
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| v.用文火焖烧，熏烧，慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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43
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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45
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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46
aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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47
emission
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| n.发出物，散发物；发出，散发 | |
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48
concoction
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| n.调配(物)；谎言 | |
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49
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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50
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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51
unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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52
ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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53
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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54
saga
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| n.(尤指中世纪北欧海盗的)故事，英雄传奇 | |
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55
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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56
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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59
transgresses
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| n.超越( transgress的名词复数 )；越过；违反；违背v.超越( transgress的第三人称单数 )；越过；违反；违背 | |
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60
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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61
belles
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| n.美女( belle的名词复数 )；最美的美女 | |
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62
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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64
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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66
paean
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| n.赞美歌，欢乐歌 | |
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67
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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broth
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| n.原(汁)汤(鱼汤、肉汤、菜汤等) | |
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gender
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| n.（生理上的）性，（名词、代词等的）性 | |
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70
elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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infestation
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| n.侵扰，蔓延 | |
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stoniest
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| 多石头的( stony的最高级 )； 冷酷的，无情的 | |
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taverns
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| n.小旅馆，客栈，酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
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fiddles
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| n.小提琴( fiddle的名词复数 )；欺诈；（需要运用手指功夫的）细巧活动；当第二把手v.伪造( fiddle的第三人称单数 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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75
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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76
protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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askew
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| adv.斜地；adj.歪斜的 | |
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grid
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| n.高压输电线路网；地图坐标方格；格栅 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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81
charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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82
shrimp
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| n.虾，小虾；矮小的人 | |
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83
chilies
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| n.红辣椒( chili的名词复数 ) | |
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84
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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85
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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86
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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curried
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| adj.加了咖喱（或咖喱粉的），用咖哩粉调理的 | |
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88
pickles
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| n.腌菜( pickle的名词复数 )；处于困境；遇到麻烦；菜酱 | |
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porcupine
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| n.豪猪， 箭猪 | |
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scoffing
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| n. 嘲笑, 笑柄, 愚弄 v. 嘲笑, 嘲弄, 愚弄, 狼吞虎咽 | |
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swilling
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| v.冲洗( swill的现在分词 )；猛喝；大口喝；（使）液体流动 | |
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92
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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gushes
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| n.涌出，迸发( gush的名词复数 )v.喷，涌( gush的第三人称单数 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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astronomical
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| adj.天文学的，（数字）极大的 | |
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observatory
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| n.天文台，气象台，瞭望台，观测台 | |
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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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confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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98
culminate
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| v.到绝顶，达于极点，达到高潮 | |
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99
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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100
wavy
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| adj.有波浪的，多浪的，波浪状的，波动的，不稳定的 | |
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101
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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102
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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103
shrimps
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| n.虾，小虾( shrimp的名词复数 )；矮小的人 | |
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104
implement
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| n.(pl.)工具，器具；vt.实行，实施，执行 | |
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105
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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106
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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107
condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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108
deluxe
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| adj.华美的，豪华的，高级的 | |
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109
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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110
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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111
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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112
clergy
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| n.[总称]牧师，神职人员 | |
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113
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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114
inflexibly
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| adv.不屈曲地，不屈地 | |
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115
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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116
qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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117
flay
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| vt.剥皮；痛骂 | |
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118
impieties
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| n.不敬( impiety的名词复数 )；不孝；不敬的行为；不孝的行为 | |
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119
venial
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| adj.可宽恕的；轻微的 | |
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120
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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121
advert
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| vi.注意，留意，言及；n.广告 | |
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122
queasy
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| adj.易呕的 | |
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123
patina
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| n.铜器上的绿锈，年久而产生的光泽 | |
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124
insidiously
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| 潜在地，隐伏地，阴险地 | |
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125
radius
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| n.半径，半径范围；有效航程，范围，界限 | |
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126
exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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127
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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128
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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129
shutter
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| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
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130
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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131
flirt
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| v.调情，挑逗，调戏；n.调情者，卖俏者 | |
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132
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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133
peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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134
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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135
lewd
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| adj.淫荡的 | |
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136
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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137
erring
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| 做错事的，错误的 | |
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138
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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139
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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140
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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141
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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142
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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143
thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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144
beetle
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| n.甲虫，近视眼的人 | |
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145
rustles
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| n.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的名词复数 )v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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146
apprehend
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| vt.理解，领悟，逮捕，拘捕，忧虑 | |
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147
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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148
scrutinizing
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
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149
collapses
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| 折叠( collapse的第三人称单数 )； 倒塌； 崩溃； （尤指工作劳累后）坐下 | |
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150
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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151
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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152
structural
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| adj.构造的，组织的，建筑（用）的 | |
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153
vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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154
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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155
crumble
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| vi.碎裂，崩溃；vt.弄碎，摧毁 | |
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156
gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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157
excrement
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| n.排泄物，粪便 | |
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158
saliva
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| n.唾液，口水 | |
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159
arcades
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| n.商场( arcade的名词复数 )；拱形走道（两旁有商店或娱乐设施）；连拱廊；拱形建筑物 | |
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160
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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161
cowers
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的第三人称单数 ) | |
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162
bleating
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| v.（羊，小牛）叫( bleat的现在分词 )；哭诉；发出羊叫似的声音；轻声诉说 | |
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163
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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164
snip
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| n.便宜货，廉价货，剪，剪断 | |
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165
funneling
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| [医]成漏斗形：描述膀胱底及膀胱尿道交接区 | |
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166
skidding
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| n.曳出，集材v.（通常指车辆） 侧滑( skid的现在分词 )；打滑；滑行；（住在）贫民区 | |
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167
props
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| 小道具； 支柱( prop的名词复数 )； 支持者； 道具； （橄榄球中的）支柱前锋 | |
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168
precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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169
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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170
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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171
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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172
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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173
lateral
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| adj.侧面的，旁边的 | |
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174
latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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175
longitude
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| n.经线，经度 | |
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176
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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177
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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178
minarets
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| n.（清真寺旁由报告祈祷时刻的人使用的）光塔( minaret的名词复数 ) | |
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179
caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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180
debit
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| n.借方，借项，记人借方的款项 | |
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181
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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182
percussion
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| n.打击乐器；冲突，撞击；震动，音响 | |
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183
sentimentally
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| adv.富情感地 | |
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184
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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185
trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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186
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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187
cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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188
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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189
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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190
drudgery
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| n.苦工，重活，单调乏味的工作 | |
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191
ingenuously
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| adv.率直地，正直地 | |
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192
smirk
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| n.得意地笑；v.傻笑；假笑着说 | |
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193
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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194
inborn
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| adj.天生的，生来的，先天的 | |
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195
embodied
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| v.表现( embody的过去式和过去分词 )；象征；包括；包含 | |
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196
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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197
transits
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| 通过（transit的复数形式） | |
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198
jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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199
mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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