green mansions-第9部分

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　this　trifle　with　covetous　eyesthe　covetous　way　in　which　they　all　looked　at　it　had　given　it　a　fictitious　value　in　my　ownI　tried　to　bribe　him　with　the　offer　of　it　to　accompany　me　to　my　favourite　haunt。　　The　brave　young　hunter　refused　again　and　again；　but　on　each　occasion　he　offered　to　perform　some　other　service　or　to　give　me　something　in　exchange　for　the　box。　　At　last　I　told　him　that　I　would　give　it　to　the　first　person　who　should　accompany　me；　and　fearing　that　someone　would　be　found　valiant　enough　to　win　the　prize；　he　at　length　plucked　up　a　spirit；　and　on　the　next　day；　seeing　me　going　out　for　a　walk；　he　all　at　once　offered　to　go　with　me。　　He　cunningly　tried　to　get　the　box　before　startinghis　cunning；　poor　youth；　was　not　very　deep！　I　told　him　that　the　forest　we　were　about　to　visit　abounded　with　plants　and　birds　unlike　any　I　had　seen　elsewhere；　that　I　wished　to　learn　their　names　and　everything　about　them；　and　that　when　I　had　got　the　required　information　the　box　would　be　hisnot　sooner。　　Finally　we　started；　he；　as　usual；　armed　with　his　zabatana；　with　which；　I　imagined；　he　would　procure　more　game　than　usually　fell　to　his　little　poisoned　arrows。　　When　we　reached　the　wood　I　could　see　that　he　was　ill　at　ease：　nothing　would　persuade　him　to　go　into　the　deeper　parts；　and　even　where　it　was　very　open　and　light　he　was　constantly　gazing　into　bushes　and　shadowy　places；　as　if　expecting　to　see　some　frightful　creature　lying　in　wait　for　him。　　This　behaviour　might　have　had　a　disquieting　effect　on　me　had　I　not　been　thoroughly　convinced　that　his　fears　were　purely　superstitious　and　that　there　could　be　no　dangerous　animal　in　a　spot　I　was　accustomed　to　walk　in　every　day。　　My　plan　was　to　ramble　about　with　an　unconcerned　air；　occasionally　pointing　out　an　uncommon　tree　or　shrub　or　vine；　or　calling　his　attention　to　a　distant　bird…cry　and　asking　the　bird's　name；　in　the　hope　that　the　mysterious　voice　would　make　itself　heard　and　that　he　would　be　able　to　give　me　some　explanation　of　it。　　But　for　upwards　of　two　hours　we　moved　about；　hearing　nothing　except　the　usual　bird　voices；　and　during　all　that　time　he　never　stirred　a　yard　from　my　side　nor　made　an　attempt　to　capture　anything。　　At　length　we　sat　down　under　a　tree；　in　an　open　spot　close　to　the　border　of　the　wood。　　He　sat　down　very　reluctantly；　and　seemed　more　troubled　in　his　mind　than　ever；　keeping　his　eyes　continually　roving　about；　while　he　listened　intently　to　every　sound。　　The　sounds　were　not　few；　owing　to　the　abundance　of　animal　and　especially　of　bird　life　in　this　favoured　spot。　　I　began　to　question　my　companion　as　to　some　of　the　cries　we　heard。　　There　were　notes　and　cries　familiar　to　me　as　the　crowing　of　the　cockparrot　screams　and　yelping　of　toucans；　the　distant　wailing　calls　of　maam　and　duraquara；　and　shrill　laughter…like　notes　of　the　large　tree…climber　as　it　passed　from　tree　to　tree；　the　quick　whistle　of　cotingas；　and　strange　throbbing　and　thrilling　sounds；　as　of　pygmies　beating　on　metallic　drums；　of　the　skulking　pitta…thrushes；　and　with　these　mingled　other　notes　less　well　known。　　One　came　from　the　treetops；　where　it　was　perpetually　wandering　amid　the　foliage　a　low　note；　repeated　at　intervals　of　a　few　seconds；　so　thin　and　mournful　and　full　of　mystery　that　I　half　expected　to　hear　that　it　proceeded　from　the　restless　ghost　of　some　dead　bird。　　But　no；　he　only　said　it　was　uttered　by　a　〃little　bird〃too　little　presumably　to　have　a　name。　From　the　foliage　of　a　neighbouring　tree　came　a　few　tinkling　chirps；　as　of　a　small　mandolin；　two　or　three　strings　of　which　had　been　carelessly　struck　by　the　player。　　He　said　that　it　came　from　a　small　green　frog　that　lived　in　trees；　and　in　this　way　my　rude　Indianvexed　perhaps　at　being　asked　such　trivial　questionsbrushed　away　the　pretty　fantasies　my　mind　had　woven　in　the　woodland　solitude。　　For　I　often　listened　to　this　tinkling　music；　and　it　had　suggested　the　idea　that　the　place　was　frequented　by　a　tribe　of　fairy…like　troubadour　monkeys；　and　that　if　I　could　only　be　quick…sighted　enough　I　might　one　day　be　able　to　detect　the　minstrel　sitting；　in　a　green　tunic　perhaps；　cross…legged　on　some　high；　swaying　bough；　carelessly　touching　his　mandolin；　suspended　from　his　neck　by　a　yellow　ribbon。

By　and　by　a　bird　came　with　low；　swift　flight；　its　great　tail　spread　open　fan…wise；　and　perched　itself　on　an　exposed　bough　not　thirty　yards　from　us。　　It　was　all　of　a　chestnut…red　colour；　long…bodied；　in　size　like　a　big　pigeon。　　Its　actions　showed　that　its　curiosity　had　been　greatly　excited；　for　it　jerked　from　side　to　side；　eyeing　us　first　with　one　eye；　then　the　other；　while　its　long　tail　rose　and　fell　in　a　measured　way。

〃Look；　Kua…ko；〃　I　said　in　a　whisper；　〃there　is　a　bird　for　you　to　kill。〃

But　he　only　shook　his　head；　still　watchful。

〃Give　me　the　blow…pipe；　then；〃　I　said；　with　a　laugh；　putting　out　my　hand　to　take　it。　　But　he　refused　to　let　me　take　it；　knowing　that　it　would　only　be　an　arrow　wasted　if　I　attempted　to　shoot　anything。

As　I　persisted　in　telling　him　to　kill　the　bird；　he　at　last　bent　his　lips　near　me　and　said　in　a　half…whisper；　as　if　fearful　of　being　overheard：　〃I　can　kill　nothing　here。　　If　I　shot　at　the　bird；　the　daughter　of　the　Didi　would　catch　the　dart　in　her　hand　and　throw　it　back　and　hit　me　here；〃　touching　his　breast　just　over　his　heart。

I　laughed　again；　saying　to　myself；　with　some　amusement；　that　Kua…ko　was　not　such　a　bad　companion　after　allthat　he　was　not　without　imagination。　　But　in　spite　of　my　laughter　his　words　roused　my　interest　and　suggested　the　idea　that　the　voice　I　was　curious　about　had　been　heard　by　the　Indians　and　was　as　great　a　mystery　to　them　as　to　me；　since；　not　being　like　that　of　any　creature　known　to　them；　it　would　be　attributed　by　their　superstitious　minds　to　one　of　the　numerous　demons　or　semi…human　monsters　inhabiting　every　forest；　stream；　and　mountain；　and　fear　of　it　would　drive　them　from　the　wood。　　In　this　case；　judging　from　my　companion's　words；　they　had　varied　the　form　of　the　superstition　somewhat；　inventing　a　daughter　of　a　water…spirit　to　be　afraid　of。　　My　thought　was　that　if　their　keen；　practiced　eyes　had　never　been　able　to　see　this　flitting　woodland　creature　with　a　musical　soul；　it　was　not　likely　that　I　would　succeed　in　my　quest。

I　began　to　question　him；　but　he　now　appeared　less　inclined　to　talk　and　more　frightened　than　ever；　and　each　time　I　attempted　to　speak　he　imposed　silence；　with　a　quick　gesture　of　alarm；　while　he　continued　to　stare　about　him　with　dilated　eyes。　　All　at　once　he　sprang　to　his　feet　as　if　overcome　with　terror　and　started　running　at　full　speed。　　His　fear　infected　me；　and；　springing　up；　I　followed　as　fast　as　I　could；　but　he　was　far　ahead　of　me；　running　for　dear　life；　and　before　I　had　gone　forty　yards　my　feet　were　caught　in　a　creeper　trailing　along　the　surface；　and　I　measured　my　length　on　the　ground。　　The　sudden；　violent　shock　almost　took　away　my　senses　for　a　moment；　but　when　I　jumped　up　and　stared　round　to　see　no　unspeakable　monsterCurupita　or　otherrushing　on　to　slay　and　devour　me　there　and　then；　I　began　to　feel　ashamed　of　my　cowardice；　and　in　the　end　I　turned　and　walked　back　to　the　spot　I　had　just　quitted　and　sat　down　once　more。　　I　even　tried　to　hum　a　tune；　just　to　prove　to　myself　that　I　had　completely　recovered　from　the　panic　caught　from　the　miserable　Indian；　but　it　is　never　possible　in　such　cases　to　get　back　one's　serenity　immediately；　and　a　vague　suspicion　continued　to　trouble　me　for　a　time。　　After　sitting　there　for　half　an　hour　or　so；　listening　to　distant　bird…sounds；　I　began　to　recover　my　old　confidence；　and　even　to　feel　inclined　to　penetrate　further　into　the　wood。　　All　at　once；　making　me　almost　jump；　so　sudden　it　was；　so　much　nearer　and　louder　than　I　had　ever　heard　it　before；　the　mysterious　melody　began。　　Unmistakably　it　was　uttered　by　the　same　being　heard　on　former　occasions；　but　today　it　was　different　in　character。　　The　utterance　was　far　more　rapid；　with　fewer　silent　intervals；　and　it　had　none　of　the　usual　tenderness　in　it；　nor　ever　once　sunk　to　that　low；　whisper…like　talking　which　had　seemed　to　me　as　if　the　spirit　of　the　wind　had　breathed　its　low　sighs　in　syllables　and　speech。　　Now　it　was　not　only　loud；　rapid；　and　continuous；　but；　while　still　musical；　there　was　an　incisiveness　in　it；　a　sharp　ring　as　of　resentment；　which　made　it　strike　painfully　on　the　sense。

The　impression　of　an　intelligent　unhuman　being　addressing　me　in　anger　took　so　firm　a　hold　on　my　mind　that　the　old　fear　returned；　and；　rising；　I　began　to　walk　rapidly　away；　intending　to　escape　from　the　wood。　　The　voice　continued　violently　rating　me；　as　it　seemed　to　my　mind；　moving　with　me；　which　caused　me　to　accelerate　my　steps；　and　very　soon　I　would　have　broken　into　a　run；　when　its　character　began　to　change　again。　　There　were　pauses　now；　intervals　of　silence；　long　or　short；　and　after　each　one　the　voice　came　to　my　ear　with　a　more　subdued　and　dulcet　soundmore　of　that　melting；　flute…like　quality　it　had　possessed　at　other　times；　and　this　softness　of　tone；　coupled　with　the　talking…like　form　of　utterance；　gave　me　the　idea　of　a　being　no　longer　incensed；　addressing　me　now　in　a　peaceable　spirit；　reasoning　away　my　unworthy　tremors；　and　imploring　me　to　remain　with　it　in　the　wood。　Strange　as　this　voice　without　a　body　was；　and　always　productive　of　a　slightly　uncomfortable　feeling　on　accoun