Kingozi retired1 again to his cot; but for a long time he could not get to sleep. Little things annoyed him. A fever owl2 in a thorn tree somewhere nearby called over and over again monotonously3, hurriedly, without pause, without a break in rhythm. Kingozi knew that the bird would thus continue all night long, and he tried to adjust his mind to the fact, but failed. It seemed beyond human comprehension that any living creature could keep up steadily4 so breathless a performance. Some of the men were chatting in low voices. Ordinarily he would not have heard them at all; now they annoyed him. He stood it as long as he could, then shouted "_Kalele!_" at them in so fierce a tone that the human silence was dead and immediate5. But this made prominent other lesser6 noises. Kingozi's headache was worse. He tossed and turned, but at last fell into a half-waking stupor7.
He was brought to full consciousness by the entrance of Cazi Moto. He opened his eyes. It was still night--a very black night, evidently, for not a ray of light entered the tent.
"What time is it, Cazi Moto?" he asked.
"Five o'clock, _bwana_."
It was time to rise if a march was to be undertaken. Kingozi waited a moment impatiently.
"Why do you not light the candle?" he demanded.
"The candle is lighted, _bwana_" replied Cazi Moto, with a slight tone of surprise.
Kingozi reached his outspread hand across to his tin box. His fingers encountered a flame, and were slightly scorched8. He lay back and closed his eyes.
"The men have struck their tents?" he asked Cazi Moto after a moment.
"Yes, _bwana_, all is prepared."
Then there must be a dozen little fires, and the tent must be filled with flickering9 reflections. Kingozi lay for some time, thinking. He could hear Cazi Moto moving about, arranging clothes and equipment. When by the sounds Kingozi knew that the task was finished and Cazi Moto about to depart, he spoke10.
"We shall not make safari11 to-day," he said. Cazi Moto stopped.
"_Bwana?_"
"We shall not make safari to-day."
Cazi Moto's mind adjusted itself to this new decision. Then, without comment, he glided12 out to reverse all his arrangements.
Left alone Kingozi lay on his back and bent13 his will power to getting control of the situation.
He was blind.
At first the mere14 thought sent so numbing15 a chill through all his faculties16 that he needed the utmost of his fortitude17 to prevent an insensate and aimless panic. Gradually he gained control of this.
Then he groped for the candle. By experiment he found that at a distance of a foot or so the illumination registered. Then there was no paralysis18 of the nerve itself. Desperately19 he marshalled his unruly thoughts, striving to look back into the remote past of his student days. Fragments of knowledge came to him, but nothing on which to build a theory of what was wrong.
"It's mechanical; it's mechanical," he muttered over and over to himself, but could not seem to progress beyond this point. All he could conclude was that it was _not_ ophthalmia or trachoma. He had seen a good deal of these two plagues of Egypt, and their symptoms were absent here. He concentrated until his mind was weary, and his will slipped. At last in despair he relaxed and in an unconscious gesture rubbed his eyes with his forefingers20 and thumbs. The contact brought him to with a jerk.
The eyeballs, instead of feeling soft and velvety21 under the lids, were as hard as marbles.
The shock of this phenomenon rang a bell in his memory. A distinct picture came to him of his classroom and old Doctor Stokes. He could fairly hear the slow, impressive voice.
"There is one symptom," the past was saying to him, "one symptom, young gentlemen, that is not always present; but when present establishes the diagnosis22 beyond any doubt. I refer to a peculiar23 hardening of the eyeball itself----"
"Glaucoma!" cried Kingozi aloud.
His thoughts, like hounds on a trail, raced off after this new scent24. Desperately he tried to recollect25. In snatches he captured knowledge. Of its accuracy he was sometimes in doubt; but little by little that doubt grew less. To change the figure, the latent images of his past science developed slowly, like the images on a photographic plate.
Glaucoma--a hardening, an enlarging of the pupil, a change in the shape and consistency26 of the iris27--yes, he had it fairly well. Treatment? Let's see--an operation on the iris, delicate. That was it. Impossible, of course. But there was something else, a temporary expedient28, until the surgeon could be reached--an undue29 expansion of the pupil----
"Why," shouted Kingozi aloud, sitting up in bed. "Pilocarpin, of course!"
What luck! He fervently30 blessed the shortage of phenacetin that had forced him to take pilocarpin as a sweating substitute for fever.
"Cazi Moto!" he called. Then, as the headman hurried up: "Get me the box of medicines, quick!"
He waited until he heard the little man reenter the tent.
"Place it here," he commanded. "Now go."
He groped for the case, opened it----
The bottles it contained were all of the same shape. He remembered that the pilocarpin was at the right-hand end--or was it the left? Hastily he uncorked the left-hand bottle, and was immediately reassured31. It contained tablets. The right-hand bottle, on the contrary, held the typical small crystals. But a doubt assailed32 him. At the same end of the case were the receptacles also of the atropin and the morphia. He remembered the Leopard33 Woman's remarking how much alike they all were. Kingozi seemed to see plainly in his mind's eye the precise arrangement, to visualize34 even the exact appearance of the labels on the bottles--first the morphia, next to it the pilocarpin, and last the atropin. But while he contemplated35 this mental image, it shifted. The pilocarpin and atropin changed places. And this latter recollection seemed as distinct to him as the first had been.
He fingered the three bottles, his brows bent. And across his mental travail36 floated another thought that brought him up all standing37.
Pilocarpin and atropin had exactly the opposite effect.
"Here, this won't do!" he said aloud. "If I get the wrong stuff in my eyes it will destroy them permanently38."
He raised his voice for Cazi Moto.
"When Bibi-ya-chui is awake," he told the headman, "I want to see her. Tell her to come."
收听单词发音 |
1
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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safari
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| n.远征旅行(探险、考察)；探险队，狩猎队 | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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numbing
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| adj.使麻木的，使失去感觉的v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的现在分词 ) | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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paralysis
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| n.麻痹(症)；瘫痪(症) | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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forefingers
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| n.食指( forefinger的名词复数 ) | |
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velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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diagnosis
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| n.诊断，诊断结果，调查分析，判断 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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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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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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iris
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| n.虹膜，彩虹 | |
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expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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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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leopard
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| n.豹 | |
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visualize
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| vt.使看得见，使具体化，想象，设想 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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travail
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| n.阵痛；努力 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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