adventure-第1部分

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Adventure

by　Jack　London





CHAPTER　ISOMETHING　TO　BE　DONE



He　was　a　very　sick　white　man。　　He　rode　pick…a…back　on　a　woolly…　headed；　black…skinned　savage；　the　lobes　of　whose　ears　had　been　pierced　and　stretched　until　one　had　torn　out；　while　the　other　carried　a　circular　block　of　carved　wood　three　inches　in　diameter。　The　torn　ear　had　been　pierced　again；　but　this　time　not　so　ambitiously；　for　the　hole　accommodated　no　more　than　a　short　clay　pipe。　　The　man…horse　was　greasy　and　dirty；　and　naked　save　for　an　exceedingly　narrow　and　dirty　loin…cloth；　but　the　white　man　clung　to　him　closely　and　desperately。　　At　times；　from　weakness；　his　head　drooped　and　rested　on　the　woolly　pate。　　At　other　times　he　lifted　his　head　and　stared　with　swimming　eyes　at　the　cocoanut　palms　that　reeled　and　swung　in　the　shimmering　heat。　　He　was　clad　in　a　thin　undershirt　and　a　strip　of　cotton　cloth；　that　wrapped　about　his　waist　and　descended　to　his　knees。　　On　his　head　was　a　battered　Stetson；　known　to　the　trade　as　a　Baden…Powell。　　About　his　middle　was　strapped　a　belt；　which　carried　a　large…calibred　automatic　pistol　and　several　spare　clips；　loaded　and　ready　for　quick　work。

The　rear　was　brought　up　by　a　black　boy　of　fourteen　or　fifteen；　who　carried　medicine　bottles；　a　pail　of　hot　water；　and　various　other　hospital　appurtenances。　　They　passed　out　of　the　compound　through　a　small　wicker　gate；　and　went　on　under　the　blazing　sun；　winding　about　among　new…planted　cocoanuts　that　threw　no　shade。　　There　was　not　a　breath　of　wind；　and　the　superheated；　stagnant　air　was　heavy　with　pestilence。　　From　the　direction　they　were　going　arose　a　wild　clamour；　as　of　lost　souls　wailing　and　of　men　in　torment。　　A　long；　low　shed　showed　ahead；　grass…walled　and　grass…thatched；　and　it　was　from　here　that　the　noise　proceeded。　　There　were　shrieks　and　screams；　some　unmistakably　of　grief；　others　unmistakably　of　unendurable　pain。　　As　the　white　man　drew　closer　he　could　hear　a　low　and　continuous　moaning　and　groaning。　　He　shuddered　at　the　thought　of　entering；　and　for　a　moment　was　quite　certain　that　he　was　going　to　faint。　　For　that　most　dreaded　of　Solomon　Island　scourges；　dysentery；　had　struck　Berande　plantation；　and　he　was　all　alone　to　cope　with　it。　　Also；　he　was　afflicted　himself。

By　stooping　close；　still　on　man…back；　he　managed　to　pass　through　the　low　doorway。　　He　took　a　small　bottle　from　his　follower；　and　sniffed　strong　ammonia　to　clear　his　senses　for　the　ordeal。　　Then　he　shouted；　〃Shut　up！〃　and　the　clamour　stilled。　　A　raised　platform　of　forest　slabs；　six　feet　wide；　with　a　slight　pitch；　extended　the　full　length　of　the　shed。　　Alongside　of　it　was　a　yard…wide　run…way。　Stretched　on　the　platform；　side　by　side　and　crowded　close；　lay　a　score　of　blacks。　　That　they　were　low　in　the　order　of　human　life　was　apparent　at　a　glance。　　They　were　man…eaters。　　Their　faces　were　asymmetrical；　bestial；　their　bodies　were　ugly　and　ape…like。　　They　wore　nose…rings　of　clam…shell　and　turtle…shell；　and　from　the　ends　of　their　noses　which　were　also　pierced；　projected　horns　of　beads　strung　on　stiff　wire。　　Their　ears　were　pierced　and　distended　to　accommodate　wooden　plugs　and　sticks；　pipes；　and　all　manner　of　barbaric　ornaments。　　Their　faces　and　bodies　were　tattooed　or　scarred　in　hideous　designs。　　In　their　sickness　they　wore　no　clothing；　not　even　loin…cloths；　though　they　retained　their　shell　armlets；　their　bead　necklaces；　and　their　leather　belts；　between　which　and　the　skin　were　thrust　naked　knives。　　The　bodies　of　many　were　covered　with　horrible　sores。　　Swarms　of　flies　rose　and　settled；　or　flew　back　and　forth　in　clouds。

The　white　man　went　down　the　line；　dosing　each　man　with　medicine。　To　some　he　gave　chlorodyne。　　He　was　forced　to　concentrate　with　all　his　will　in　order　to　remember　which　of　them　could　stand　ipecacuanha；　and　which　of　them　were　constitutionally　unable　to　retain　that　powerful　drug。　　One　who　lay　dead　he　ordered　to　be　carried　out。　　He　spoke　in　the　sharp；　peremptory　manner　of　a　man　who　would　take　no　nonsense；　and　the　well　men　who　obeyed　his　orders　scowled　malignantly。　　One　muttered　deep　in　his　chest　as　he　took　the　corpse　by　the　feet。　　The　white　man　exploded　in　speech　and　action。　It　cost　him　a　painful　effort；　but　his　arm　shot　out；　landing　a　back…　hand　blow　on　the　black's　mouth。

〃What　name　you；　Angara？〃　he　shouted。　　〃What　for　talk　'long　you；　eh？　I　knock　seven　bells　out　of　you；　too　much；　quick！〃

With　the　automatic　swiftness　of　a　wild　animal　the　black　gathered　himself　to　spring。　　The　anger　of　a　wild　animal　was　in　his　eyes；　but　he　saw　the　white　man's　hand　dropping　to　the　pistol　in　his　belt。　The　spring　was　never　made。　　The　tensed　body　relaxed；　and　the　black；　stooping　over　the　corpse；　helped　carry　it　out。　　This　time　there　was　no　muttering。

〃Swine！〃　the　white　man　gritted　out　through　his　teeth　at　the　whole　breed　of　Solomon　Islanders。

He　was　very　sick；　this　white　man；　as　sick　as　the　black　men　who　lay　helpless　about　him；　and　whom　he　attended。　　He　never　knew；　each　time　he　entered　the　festering　shambles；　whether　or　not　he　would　be　able　to　complete　the　round。　　But　he　did　know　in　large　degree　of　certainty　that；　if　he　ever　fainted　there　in　the　midst　of　the　blacks；　those　who　were　able　would　be　at　his　throat　like　ravening　wolves。

Part　way　down　the　line　a　man　was　dying。　　He　gave　orders　for　his　removal　as　soon　as　he　had　breathed　his　last。　　A　black　stuck　his　head　inside　the　shed　door；　saying；　…

〃Four　fella　sick　too　much。〃

Fresh　cases；　still　able　to　walk；　they　clustered　about　the　spokesman。　　The　white　man　singled　out　the　weakest；　and　put　him　in　the　place　just　vacated　by　the　corpse。　　Also；　he　indicated　the　next　weakest；　telling　him　to　wait　for　a　place　until　the　next　man　died。　Then；　ordering　one　of　the　well　men　to　take　a　squad　from　the　field…　force　and　build　a　lean…to　addition　to　the　hospital；　he　continued　along　the　run…way；　administering　medicine　and　cracking　jokes　in　beche…de…mer　English　to　cheer　the　sufferers。　　Now　and　again；　from　the　far　end；　a　weird　wail　was　raised。　　When　he　arrived　there　he　found　the　noise　was　emitted　by　a　boy　who　was　not　sick。　　The　white　man's　wrath　was　immediate。

〃What　name　you　sing　out　alla　time？〃　he　demanded。

〃Him　fella　my　brother　belong　me；〃　was　the　answer。　　〃Him　fella　die　too　much。〃

〃You　sing　out；　him　fella　brother　belong　you　die　too　much；〃　the　white　man　went　on　in　threatening　tones。　　〃I　cross　too　much　along　you。　　What　name　you　sing　out；　eh？　　You　fat…head　make　um　brother　belong　you　die　dose　up　too　much。　　You　fella　finish　sing　out；　savvee？　　You　fella　no　finish　sing　out　I　make　finish　damn　quick。〃

He　threatened　the　wailer　with　his　fist；　and　the　black　cowered　down；　glaring　at　him　with　sullen　eyes。

〃Sing　out　no　good　little　bit；〃　the　white　man　went　on；　more　gently。　〃You　no　sing　out。　　You　chase　um　fella　fly。　　Too　much　strong　fella　fly。　　You　catch　water；　washee　brother　belong　you；　washee　plenty　too　much；　bime　bye　brother　belong　you　all　right。　　Jump！〃　he　shouted　fiercely　at　the　end；　his　will　penetrating　the　low　intelligence　of　the　black　with　dynamic　force　that　made　him　jump　to　the　task　of　brushing　the　loathsome　swarms　of　flies　away。

Again　he　rode　out　into　the　reeking　heat。　　He　clutched　the　black's　neck　tightly；　and　drew　a　long　breath；　but　the　dead　air　seemed　to　shrivel　his　lungs；　and　he　dropped　his　head　and　dozed　till　the　house　was　reached。　　Every　effort　of　will　was　torture；　yet　he　was　called　upon　continually　to　make　efforts　of　will。　　He　gave　the　black　he　had　ridden　a　nip　of　trade…gin。　　Viaburi；　the　house…boy；　brought　him　corrosive　sublimate　and　water；　and　he　took　a　thorough　antiseptic　wash。　　He　dosed　himself　with　chlorodyne；　took　his　own　pulse；　smoked　a　thermometer；　and　lay　back　on　the　couch　with　a　suppressed　groan。　It　was　mid…afternoon；　and　he　had　completed　his　third　round　that　day。　　He　called　the　house…boy。

〃Take　um　big　fella　look　along　Jessie；〃　he　commanded。

The　boy　carried　the　long　telescope　out　on　the　veranda；　and　searched　the　sea。

〃One　fella　schooner　long　way　little　bit；〃　he　announced。　　〃One　fella　Jessie。〃

The　white　man　gave　a　little　gasp　of　delight。

〃You　make　um　Jessie；　five　sticks　tobacco　along　you；〃　he　said。

There　was　silence　for　a　time；　during　which　he　waited　with　eager　impatience。

〃Maybe　Jessie；　maybe　other　fella　schooner；〃　came　the　faltering　admission。

The　man　wormed　to　the　edge　of　the　couch；　and　slipped　off　to　the　floor　on　his　knees。　　By　means　of　a　chair　he　drew　himself　to　his　feet。　　Still　clinging　to　the　chair；　supporting　most　of　his　weight　on　it；　he　shoved　it　to　the　door　and　out　upon　the　veranda。　　The　sweat　from　the　exertion　streamed　down　his　face　and　showed　through　the　undershirt　across　his　shoulders。　　He　managed　to　get　into　the　chair；　where　he　panted　in　a　state　of　collapse。　　In　a　few　minutes　he　roused　himself。　　The　boy　held　the　end　of　the　telescope　against　one　of　the　veranda　scantlings；　while　the　man　gazed　through　it　at　the　sea。　　At　last　he　picked　up　the　white　sails　of　the　schooner　and　studied　them。

〃No　Jessie；〃　he　said　very　quietly。　　〃That's　the　Malakula。〃

He　changed　his　seat　for　a　steamer　reclining…chair。　　Three　hundred　feet　away　the　sea　broke　in　a　small　surf　upon　the　beach。　　To　the　left　he　could　see　the　white　line　of　breakers　that　marked　the　bar　of　the　Balesuna　River；　and；　beyond；　the　rugged　outline　of　Savo　Island。　Directly　before　him；　acros