The Baker1's first and most natural impulse was to curse Smith for waking him up in the middle of the night, and his second was, that now, and at last, his chum had gone definitely off his head. He groaned2 as he sat up and prepared to soothe3 the man, and combat his wild delusion4. But Smith was by no means crazy or delirious5. Indeed, he was keen enough to perceive from the very tone of Mandeville's voice what was in his mind.
"I'm not crazy, Baker," he said earnestly, as he raked the ashes of their own fire together. "I'm quite sane6, and what I say is right."
"That white men lighted this fire?" said the Baker. "And 'ow the deuce did you find that out in pitch dark?"
Smith laughed, a far more pleasant laugh than usual.
"Why, man alive, I saw it last night, and I didn't see it. It was written large, and I missed it. How, I can't tell, for it's plain enough. It was far too large a fire for any black-fellow to light. Haven't you heard me often enough tell you to light a black-fellow's fire, three sticks and two hot coals? Well, and this fire was big enough to roast a sheep whole. I tell you white men did it."
But the Baker was not so easily convinced. His mind was acute.
"And 'ow do you know as black-fellows always does as you say? Australia's big enough for a 'undred ways of fire lightin'?"
"That's all right," said Smith impatiently; "but I know their usual custom, and I'm justified7 in thinking what I say is right."
The Baker shook his head.
"And, granting as some white man lighted it, where is the bloomin' white man?"
"That's true," he groaned. "But it was a white man anyhow. When it's light we can search and see if there is nothing to confirm it."
"No," said the Baker; "if it's so, don't let's waste no time. Let's hoff straight down the creek9. If so be as he was 'ere at all, 'e would go that way. And I dare say we shall find 'im a bloomin' corpse10, if we find 'im at all."
"You're a croaker," said Smith, who was recovering again, and they lay down till dawn.
The pace they went at the next day was very slow, for they were at an extremity11. The internal pains which had tormented12 them on the second and third days of starvation returned again like seven devils worse than the first, and Mandeville, who was the stronger, suffered the most. They had covered little more than six miles, when they camped just before noon.
"If we strike nothing to-night, it's all up with Smith," said the Baker, and when they started again about three o'clock, he insisted on carrying his chum's swag.
"drop them both," said Smith.
About four o'clock they did drop them, and walked on light, the Baker leading through the open forest, carrying nothing but the water-bags. Smith even threw away his coat, which hung on him as loosely as if it had been made for Hicks. He found it easier going, but hope was gradually dying. White-fellow or black-fellow, what did it matter? He was a thousand times inclined to stay, to lie down and die.
And when he was at his lowest he saw the Baker stop and bend down.
"Poor devil, he's got the gripes again," said Smith, in a curious detached way, as if the Baker was some one whom he was looking at from some other than a human stand-point.
But Mandeville had nothing wrong with him when he stooped. He bent13 down to pick something up; and that something made his eyes bolt out of his head. He put it in his coat pocket and walked on.
"No, I never picked h'anythin' up," he said obstinately14 to himself, and then diving into his pocket, he pulled the thing out again.
"If I shows it to Smith 'e'll go fair off 'is nut," he said. "It ain't possible, that's what it ain't. But, Lordy, ain't it 'eavy."
And sitting down, he waited till Smith came stumbling along blindly.
"Yes," said Smith dully.
"It's gold, Smith."
"Let's eat it, Mandy."
But the Baker produced his find and handed it over. It was obviously human handiwork, and Smith livened up.
"A ball, and weighs about seven pounds," he said. "And the hole through it is for a handle. By Jove, it's a costly17 kind of a black-fellow's waddy. But what's this?"
And he sprang on his feet.
"Look!" and Mandy saw what he had not noticed before. He paled to the lips, and Smith fell back again on the log.
"It's white men again; and why this mark?"
But Smith could not tell him. For the heavy ball was plainly marked with a broad arrow—thus:—up arrow and with his thumb on it, Smith sprang up again and shouted loud:
"Cooey!"
But the forest swallowed up his cry as it had swallowed them up.
They walked again, and Mandeville carried the gold ball.
"And on convicts' clothes, too," said Mandeville. "I know'd a man as did time, and 'e told me."
"We're not likely to meet either sailors or convicts here," said Smith. "It's a mystery. I don't feel hungry, but sick. What kind of a country is it? It's full of horror, and thirst, and hunger, and cannibals, from the Leeuwin to the North Cape19." And he stopped trembling.
"Steady, old man," said the Baker, "we may strike it yet."
"We'll never get out. It's my luck," said Smith. "This day will do me. Give me a drop of water."
He sat down and twisted.
"Oh these accursed pains," he groaned, and then he looked up at the Baker. "I'm sorry to howl, Baker, but it did catch me then."
And Mandeville was quite as bad, though, being a bit stronger, he said nothing.
They went on again for half an hour by the billabong, which was here pretty straight, and deeper within its banks, but in that half-hour they did barely a mile.
"What's the use?" screamed the man Smith, to his inherited desire of life. "What's the use? Why should I suffer? Why not lie down and die?"
And yet the desire for life clawed on to hope, and struggled still, driving the failing creature of a day through torture which was sometimes lulled20, and sometimes grew monstrously21, splitting the man's mind as a tree's roots drive rocks asunder22, as a cancer penetrates23 the living tissue.
When they talked, they returned again and again to the white man's fire, and to the great ball of gold, the lost weapon of some impenetrable mystery. And Smith's striving with its solution was near setting him mad; he felt almost as he had done in that day of thirst when his personality left him, and he became a nameless, brainless creature that only suffered blindly, ignorant of destiny.
But though they knew it not, a partial solution of the strange problem was at hand, a solution which solved it to present another still more terrible, still more inexplicable24. As the sun went down upon the trees, they came suddenly, and without any dreadful warning in the warm wind, upon the body of a white man, only a few days dead.
But what a white man he was, said the two dying wanderers who found him lying there. No, indeed no! he was like no man they had ever seen, for his hair hung down his shoulders, his beard was below his breast. As he lay upon his back, with bared teeth, they beheld25 the great arched chest of a giant, and they could note, even yet, the scars of spear wounds on his breast and arms. He looked a savage26, a strange and awful survival, for in the aspect of him was no suggestion that he had ever known any influence of any civilisation27. He might have been solitary28 from his birth, for aloofness29 and suspicion were visible in him still. His face was burnt to an extreme brownness, which might have left doubts as to his race, but the muscles under the arms were white. He lay there with a rudely-tanned kangaroo skin just across his feet. There was no ornament30 nor any sign of personal adornment31 upon him. But in his hand was clenched32 a short stick, which Mandeville dared to drag from him. It fitted the golden ball which he still carried.
"My God," said Smith, "what's all this? Didn't I say it was a nightmare land? What's it mean, Mandy?"
But the Baker shook his head.
"Save us from such white men," he said, in a whisper. "Did he die, or was he killed?"
When they went round the other side the answer was easy. They saw the broken shaft33 of a spear still in his side.
"He fought down yonder, and came here to die," said Smith. "But, Mandy, whom did he fight with?"
"Let's get away," said Mandy hurriedly. And they left the awful sight in silence.
"Was it blacks or other white men that killed him?"
They fought the question out for an hour, but could give it no answer.
"What could he be? Did we dream it?" said Smith. "He looked just like a savage."
"Perhaps 'e got lost, like us, years ago," suggested Mandeville.
But Smith shook his head.
"If he had been lost as a child it might have been."
And, with that horror behind them and death in front, they wandered on, presently half forgetting what or where they were. They sat down, and rose again, until it got almost dark, and just as they were failing utterly34, they came out of the forest to a line of big gum trees.
"The river at last," said Smith; and he fell in a limp heap.
Mandeville left him, and running twenty yards, he saw the river. Across it was the light of a camp fire.
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1
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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2
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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6
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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7
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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9
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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10
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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11
extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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12
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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13
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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14
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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wanly
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| adv.虚弱地；苍白地，无血色地 | |
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17
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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18
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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20
lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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21
monstrously
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asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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penetrates
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| v.穿过( penetrate的第三人称单数 )；刺入；了解；渗透 | |
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24
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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25
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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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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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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28
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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29
aloofness
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| 超然态度 | |
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30
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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31
adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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32
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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34
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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