To define Azuma-zi was beyond ethnology. He was, perhaps, more negroid than anything else, though his hair was curly rather than frizzy, and his nose had a bridge. Moreover, his skin was brown rather than black, and the whites of his eyes were yellow. His broad cheek-bones and narrow chin gave his face something of the viperine9 V. His head, too, was broad behind, and low and narrow at the forehead, as if his brain had been twisted round in the reverse way to a European’s. He was short of stature10 and still shorter of English. In conversation he made numerous odd noises of no known marketable value, and his infrequent words were carved and wrought11 into heraldic grotesqueness12. Holroyd tried to elucidate13 his religious beliefs, and—especially after whiskey—lectured to him against superstition14 and missionaries15. Azuma-zi, however, shirked the discussion of his gods, even though he was kicked for it.
Azuma-zi had come, clad in white but insufficient16 raiment, out of the stoke-hole of the Lord Clive, from the Straits Settlements, and beyond, into London. He had heard even in his youth of the greatness and riches of London, where all the women are white and fair, and even the beggars in the streets are white, and he had arrived, with newly-earned gold coins in his pocket, to worship at the shrine17 of civilisation. The day of his landing was a dismal19 one; the sky was dun, and a wind-worried drizzle20 filtered down to the greasy21 streets, but he plunged22 boldly into the delights of Shadwell, and was presently cast up, shattered in health, civilised in costume, penniless, and, except in matters of the direst necessity, practically a dumb animal, to toil23 for James Holroyd and to be bullied24 by him in the dynamo shed at Camberwell. And to James Holroyd bullying25 was a labour of love.
There were three dynamos with their engines at Camberwell. The two that have been there since the beginning are small machines; the larger one was new. The smaller machines made a reasonable noise; their straps26 hummed over the drums, every now and then the brushes buzzed and fizzled, and the air churned steadily27, whoo! whoo! whoo! between their poles. One was loose in its foundations and kept the shed vibrating. But the big dynamo drowned these little noises altogether with the sustained drone of its iron core, which somehow set part of the ironwork humming. The place made the visitor’s head reel with the throb28, throb, throb of the engines, the rotation29 of the big wheels, the spinning ball-valves, the occasional spittings of the steam, and over all the deep, unceasing, surging note of the big dynamo. This last noise was from an engineering point of view a defect, but Azuma-zi accounted it unto the monster for mightiness30 and pride.
If it were possible we would have the noises of that shed always about the reader as he reads, we would tell all our story to such an accompaniment. It was a steady stream of din18, from which the ear picked out first one thread and then another; there was the intermittent31 snorting, panting, and seething32 of the steam engines, the suck and thud of their pistons34, the dull beat on the air as the spokes35 of the great driving-wheels came round, a note the leather straps made as they ran tighter and looser, and a fretful tumult36 from the dynamos; and over all, sometimes inaudible, as the ear tired of it, and then creeping back upon the senses again, was this trombone note of the big machine. The floor never felt steady and quiet beneath one’s feet, but quivered and jarred. It was a confusing, unsteady place, and enough to send anyone’s thoughts jerking into odd zigzags37. And for three months, while the big strike of the engineers was in progress, Holroyd, who was a blackleg, and Azuma-zi, who was a mere38 black, were never out of the stir and eddy39 of it, but slept and fed in the little wooden shanty40 between the shed and the gates.
Holroyd delivered a theological lecture on the text of his big machine soon after Azuma-zi came. He had to shout to be heard in the din. “Look at that,” said Holroyd; “where’s your ‘eathen idol41 to match im?” And Azuma-zi looked. For a moment Holroyd was inaudible, and then Azuma-zi heard: “Kill a hundred men. Twelve per cent, on the ordinary shares,” said Holroyd, “and that’s something like a Gord!”
Holroyd was proud of his big dynamo, and expatiated42 upon its size and power to Azuma-zi until heaven knows what odd currents of thought that and the incessant43 whirling and shindy set up within the curly black cranium. He would explain in the most graphic44 manner the dozen or so ways in which a man might be killed by it, and once he gave Azuma-zi a shock as a sample of its quality. After that, in the breathing-times of his labour—it was heavy labour, being not only his own, but most of Holroyd’s—Azuma-zi would sit and watch the big machine. Now and then the brushes would sparkle and spit blue flashes, at which Holroyd would swear, but all the rest was as smooth and rhythmic45 as breathing. The band ran shouting over the shaft46, and ever behind one as one watched was the complacent47 thud of the piston33. So it lived all day in this big airy shed, with him and Holroyd to wait upon it; not prisoned up and slaving to drive a ship as the other engines he knew—mere captive devils of the British Solomon—had been, but a machine enthroned. Those two smaller dynamos, Azuma-zi by force of contrast despised; the large one he privately48 christened the Lord of the Dynamos. They were fretful and irregular, but the big dynamo was steady. How great it was! How serene49 and easy in its working! Greater and calmer even than the Buddahs he had seen at Rangoon, and yet not motionless, but living! The great black coils spun50, spun, spun, the rings ran round under the brushes, and the deep note of its coil steadied the whole. It affected51 Azuma-zi queerly.
Azuma-zi was not fond of labour. He would sit about and watch the Lord of the Dynamos while Holroyd went away to persuade the yard porter to get whiskey, although his proper place was not in the dynamo shed but behind the engines, and, moreover, if Holroyd caught him skulking52 he got hit for it with a rod of stout53 copper54 wire. He would go and stand close to the colossus and look up at the great leather band running overhead. There was a black patch on the band that came round, and it pleased him somehow among all the clatter55 to watch this return again and again. Odd thoughts spun with the whirl of it. Scientific people tell us that savages57 give souls to rocks and trees—and a machine is a thousand times more alive than a rock or a tree. And Azuma-zi was practically a savage56 still; the veneer58 of civilisation lay no deeper than his slop suit, his bruises59, and the coal grime on his face and hands. His father before him had worshipped a meteoric60 stone, kindred blood it may be had splashed the broad wheels of Juggernaut.
He took every opportunity Holroyd gave him of touching61 and handling the great dynamo that was fascinating him. He polished and cleaned it until the metal parts were blinding in the sun. He felt a mysterious sense of service in doing this. He would go up to it and touch its spinning coils gently. The gods he had worshipped were all far away. The people in London hid their gods.
At last his dim feelings grew more distinct, and took shape in thoughts and at last in acts. When he came into the roaring shed one morning he salaamed63 to the Lord of the Dynamos, and then, when Holroyd was away, he went and whispered to the thundering machine that he was its servant, and prayed it to have pity on him and save him from Holroyd. As he did so a rare gleam of light came in through the open archway of the throbbing64 machine-shed, and the Lord of the Dynamos, as he whirled and roared, was radiant with pale gold. Then Azuma-zi knew that his service was acceptable to his Lord. After that he did not feel so lonely as he had done, and he had indeed been very much alone in London. And even when his work time was over, which was rare, he loitered about the shed.
Then, the next time Holroyd maltreated him, Azuma-zi went presently to the Lord of the Dynamos and whispered, “Thou seest, O my Lord!” and the angry whirr of the machinery seemed to answer him. Thereafter it appeared to him that whenever Holroyd came into the shed a different note came into the sounds of the dynamo. “My Lord bides65 his time,” said Azuma-zi to himself. “The iniquity66 of the fool is not yet ripe.” And he waited and watched for the day of reckoning. One day there was evidence of short circuiting, and Holroyd, making an unwary examination—it was in the afternoon—got a rather severe shock. Azuma-zi from behind the engine saw him jump off and curse at the peccant coil.
“He is warned,” said Azuma-zi to himself. “Surely my Lord is very patient.”
Holroyd had at first initiated68 his “nigger” into such elementary conceptions of the dynamo’s working as would enable him to take temporary charge of the shed in his absence. But when he noticed the manner in which Azuma-zi hung about the monster he became suspicious. He dimly perceived his assistant was “up to something,” and connecting him with the anointing of the coils with oil that had rotted the varnish69 in one place, he issued an edict, shouted above the confusion of the machinery, “Don’t ‘ee go nigh that big dynamo any more, Pooh-bah, or a’ll take thy skin off!” Besides, if it pleased Azuma-zi to be near the big machine, it was plain sense and decency70 to keep him away from it.
Azuma-zi obeyed at the time, but later he was caught bowing before the Lord of the Dynamos. At which Holroyd twisted his arm and kicked him as he turned to go away. As Azuma-zi presently stood behind the engine and glared at the back of the hated Holroyd, the noises of the machinery took a new rhythm, and sounded like four words in his native tongue.
It is hard to say exactly what madness is. I fancy Azuma-zi was mad. The incessant din and whirl of the dynamo shed may have churned up his little store of knowledge and big store of superstitious71 fancy, at last, into something akin67 to frenzy72. At any rate, when the idea of making Holroyd a sacrifice to the Dynamo Fetich was thus suggested to him, it filled him with a strange tumult of exultant73 emotion.
That night the two men and their black shadows were alone in the shed together. The shed was lit with one big arc light that winked74 and flickered75 purple. The shadows lay black behind the dynamos, the ball governors of the engines whirled from light to darkness, and their pistons beat loud and steady. The world outside seen through the open end of the shed seemed incredibly dim and remote. It seemed absolutely silent, too, since the riot of the machinery drowned every external sound. Far away was the black fence of the yard with grey shadowy houses behind, and above was the deep blue sky and the pale little stars. Azuma-zi suddenly walked across the centre of the shed above which the leather bands were running, and went into the shadow by the big dynamo. Holroyd heard a click, and the spin of the armature changed.
Then he saw the set expression of Azuma-zi’s eyes as the Asiatic came out of the shadow towards him.
In another moment the two men were grappling fiercely in front of the great dynamo.
“You coffee-headed fool!” gasped77 Holroyd, with a brown hand at his throat. “Keep off those contact rings.” In another moment he was tripped and reeling back upon the Lord of the Dynamos. He instinctively78 loosened his grip upon his antagonist79 to save himself from the machine.
The messenger, sent in furious haste from the station to find out what had happened in the dynamo shed, met Azuma-zi at the porter’s lodge80 by the gate. Azuma-zi tried to explain something, but the messenger could make nothing of the black’s incoherent English, and hurried on to the shed. The machines were all noisily at work, and nothing seemed to be disarranged. There was, however, a queer smell of singed81 hair. Then he saw an odd-looking crumpled82 mass clinging to the front of the big dynamo, and, approaching, recognised the distorted remains83 of Holroyd.
The man stared and hesitated a moment. Then he saw the face, and shut his eyes convulsively. He turned on his heel before he opened them, so that he should not see Holroyd again, and went out of the shed to get advice and help.
When Azuma-zi saw Holroyd die in the grip of the Great Dynamo he had been a little scared about the consequences of his act. Yet he felt strangely elated, and knew that the favour of the Lord Dynamo was upon him. His plan was already settled when he met the man coming from the station, and the scientific manager who speedily arrived on the scene jumped at the obvious conclusion of suicide. This expert scarcely noticed Azuma-zi, except to ask a few questions. Did he see Holroyd kill himself? Azuma-zi explained he had been out of sight at the engine furnace until he heard a difference in the noise from the dynamo. It was not a difficult examination, being untinctured by suspicion.
The distorted remains of Holroyd, which the electrician removed from the machine, were hastily covered by the porter with a coffee-stained tablecloth84. Somebody, by a happy inspiration, fetched a medical man. The expert was chiefly anxious to get the machine at work again, for seven or eight trains had stopped midway in the stuffy85 tunnels of the electric railway. Azuma-zi, answering or misunderstanding the questions of the people who had by authority or impudence86 come into the shed, was presently sent back to the stoke-hole by the scientific manager. Of course a crowd collected outside the gates of the yard—a crowd, for no known reason, always hovers87 for a day or two near the scene of a sudden death in London—two or three reporters percolated88 somehow into the engine-shed, and one even got to Azuma-zi; but the scientific expert cleared them out again, being himself an amateur journalist.
Presently the body was carried away, and public interest departed with it. Azuma-zi remained very quietly at his furnace, seeing over and over again in the coals a figure that wriggled89 violently and became still. An hour after the murder, to anyone coming into the shed it would have looked exactly as if nothing remarkable90 had ever happened there. Peeping presently from his engine-room the black saw the Lord Dynamo spin and whirl beside his little brothers, and the driving wheels were beating round, and the steam in the pistons went thud, thud, exactly as it had been earlier in the evening. After all, from the mechanical point of view, it had been a most insignificant91 incident—the mere temporary deflection of a current. But now the slender form and slender shadow of the scientific manager replaced the sturdy outline of Holroyd travelling up and down the lane of light upon the vibrating floor under the straps between the engines and the dynamos.
“Have I not served my Lord?” said Azuma-zi inaudibly, from his shadow, and the note of the great dynamo rang out full and clear. As he looked at the big whirling mechanism92 the strange fascination93 of it that had been a little in abeyance94 since Holroyd’s death resumed its sway.
Never had Azuma-zi seen a man killed so swiftly and pitilessly. The big humming machine had slain95 its victim without wavering for a second from its steady beating. It was indeed a mighty96 god.
The unconscious scientific manager stood with his back to him, scribbling97 on a piece of paper. His shadow lay at the foot of the monster.
“Was the Lord Dynamo still hungry? His servant was ready.”
Azuma-zi made a stealthy step forward; then stopped. The scientific manager suddenly stopped writing, and walked down the shed to the endmost of the dynamos, and began to examine the brushes.
Azuma-zi hesitated, and then slipped across noiselessly into the shadow by the switch. There he waited. Presently the manager’s footsteps could be heard returning. He stopped in his old position, unconscious of the stoker crouching98 ten feet away from him. Then the big dynamo suddenly fizzled, and in another moment Azuma-zi had sprung out of the darkness upon him.
First, the scientific manager was gripped round the body and swung towards the big dynamo, then, kicking with his knee and forcing his antagonist’s head down with his hands, he loosened the grip on his waist and swung round away from the machine. Then the black grasped him again, putting a curly head against his chest, and they swayed and panted as it seemed for an age or so. Then the scientific manager was impelled99 to catch a black ear in his teeth and bite furiously. The black yelled hideously100.
They rolled over on the floor, and the black, who had apparently101 slipped from the vice62 of the teeth or parted with some ear—the scientific manager wondered which at the time—tried to throttle102 him. The scientific manager was making some ineffectual efforts to claw something with his hands and to kick, when the welcome sound of quick footsteps sounded on the floor. The next moment Azuma-zi had left him and darted103 towards the big dynamo. There was a splutter amid the roar.
The officer of the company who had entered, stood staring as Azuma-zi caught the naked terminals in his hands, gave one horrible convulsion, and then hung motionless from the machine, his face violently distorted.
“I’m jolly glad you came in when you did,” said the scientific manager, still sitting on the floor.
He looked at the still quivering figure. “It is not a nice death to die, apparently—but it is quick.”
The official was still staring at the body. He was a man of slow apprehension104.
There was a pause.
The scientific manager got up on his feet rather awkwardly. He ran his fingers along his collar thoughtfully, and moved his head to and fro several times.
“Poor Holroyd! I see now.” Then almost mechanically he went towards the switch in the shadow and turned the current into the railway circuit again. As he did so the singed body loosened its grip upon the machine and fell forward on its face. The core of the dynamo roared out loud and clear, and the armature beat the air.
So ended prematurely105 the Worship of the Dynamo Deity, perhaps the most short-lived of all religions. Yet withal it could at least boast a Martyrdom and a Human Sacrifice.
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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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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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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viperine
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| adj.毒蛇的，似毒蛇的 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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grotesqueness
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elucidate
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| v.阐明，说明 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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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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drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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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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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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rotation
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| n.旋转；循环，轮流 | |
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mightiness
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| n.强大 | |
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intermittent
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| adj.间歇的，断断续续的 | |
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seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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piston
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| n.活塞 | |
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pistons
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| 活塞( piston的名词复数 ) | |
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spokes
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| n.（车轮的）辐条( spoke的名词复数 )；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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zigzags
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| n.锯齿形的线条、小径等( zigzag的名词复数 )v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的第三人称单数 ) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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expatiated
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| v.详述，细说( expatiate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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skulking
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| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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veneer
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| n.(墙上的)饰面，虚饰 | |
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bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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meteoric
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| adj.流星的，转瞬即逝的，突然的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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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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salaamed
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| 行额手礼( salaam的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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bides
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| v.等待，停留( bide的第三人称单数 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待；面临 | |
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iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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varnish
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| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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antagonist
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| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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singed
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| v.浅表烧焦( singe的过去式和过去分词 )；（毛发）燎，烧焦尖端[边儿] | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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hovers
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| 鸟( hover的第三人称单数 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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percolated
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| v.滤( percolate的过去式和过去分词 )；渗透；（思想等）渗透；渗入 | |
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wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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abeyance
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| n.搁置，缓办，中止，产权未定 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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scribbling
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| n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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100
hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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101
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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102
throttle
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| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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103
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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104
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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