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tracks of a rolling stone-第28章

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edily got up a 'dignity ball' for our  entertainment。  She was rather too much of an armful to dance  with herself; but there was no lack of dark beauties; (not a  white woman or white man except ourselves in the room。)  We  danced pretty nearly from daylight to daylight。  The blending  of rigid propriety; of the severest 'dignity;' with the  sudden guffaw and outburst of wildest spirits and comic  humour; is beyond description; and is only to be met with  amongst these ebullient children of the sun。

On our arrival at Golden Grove; there was a great turn…out of  the natives to welcome their young lord and 'massa。'  Archy  was touched and amused by their frantic loyalty。  But their  mode of exhibiting it was not so entirely to his taste。  Not  only the young; but the old women wanted to hug him。  'Eigh!   Dat you; Massa?  Dat you; sar? Me no believe him。  Out o' de  way; you trash!  Eigh! me too much pleased like devil。' The  one constant and spontaneous ejaculation was; 'Yah! Massa too  muchy handsome!  Garamighty!  Buckra berry fat!'  The latter  attribute was the source of genuine admiration; but the  object of it hardly appreciated its recognition; and waved  off his subjects with a mixture of impatience and alarm。

We had scarcely been a week at Golden Grove; when my two  companions and Durham's servant were down with yellow fever。   Being 'salted;' perhaps; I escaped scot…free; so helped  Archy's valet and Mr。 Forbes; his factor; to nurse and to  carry out professional orders。  As we were thirty miles from  Kingston the doctor could only come every other day。  The  responsibility; therefore; of attending three patients  smitten with so deadly a disease was no light matter。  The  factor seemed to think discretion the better part of valour;  and that Jamaica rum was the best specific for keeping his  up。  All physicians were SANGRADOS in those days; and when  the Kingston doctor decided upon bleeding; the hysterical  state of the darky girls (we had no men in the bungalow  except Durham's and Archy's servants) rendered them worse  than useless。  It fell to me; therefore; to hold the basin  while Archy's man was attending to his master。

Durham; who had nerves of steel; bore his lot with the grim  stoicism which marked his character。  But at one time the  doctor considered his state so serious that he thought his  lordship's family should be informed of it。  Accordingly I  wrote to the last Lord Grey; his uncle and guardian; stating  that there was little hope of his recovery。  Poor Phoca was  at once tragic and comic。  His medicine had to be  administered every; two hours。  Each time; he begged and  prayed in lacrymose tones to be let off。  It was doing him no  good。  He might as well be allowed to die in peace。  If we  would only spare him the beastliness this once; on his honour  he would take it next time 'like a man。'  We were inexorable;  of course; and treated him exactly as one treats a child。

At last the crisis was over。  Wonderful to relate; all three  began to recover。  During their convalescence; I amused  myself by shooting alligators in the mangrove swamps at  Holland Bay; which was within half an hour's ride of the  bungalow。  It was curious sport。  The great saurians would  lie motionless in the pools amidst the snake…like tangle of  mangrove roots。  They would float with just their eyes and  noses out of water; but so still that; without a glass;  (which I had not;) it was difficult to distinguish their  heads from the countless roots and rotten logs around them。   If one fired by mistake; the sport was spoiled for an hour to  come。

I used to sit watching patiently for one of them to show  itself; or for something to disturb the glassy surface of the  dark waters。  Overhead the foliage was so dense that the heat  was not oppressive。  All Nature seemed asleep。  The deathlike  stillness was rarely broken by the faintest sound; … though  unseen life; amidst the heat and moisture; was teeming  everywhere; life feeding upon life。  For what purpose?  To  what end?  Is this a primary law of Nature?  Does cannibalism  prevail in Mars?  Sometimes a mocking…bird would pipe its  weird notes; deepening silence by the contrast。  But besides  pestilent mosquitos; the only living things in sight were  humming…birds of every hue; some no bigger than a butterfly;  fluttering over the blossoms of the orchids; or darting from  flower to flower like flashes of prismatic rays。

I killed several alligators; but one day; while stalking what  seemed to be an unusual monster; narrowly escaped an  accident。  Under the excitement; my eye was so intently fixed  upon the object; that I rather felt than saw my way。   Presently over I went; just managed to save my rifle; and; to  my amazement; found I had set my foot on a sleeping reptile。   Fortunately the brute was as much astonished as I was; and  plunged with a splash into the adjacent pool。

A Cambridge friend; Mr。 Walter Shirley; owned an estate at  Trelawny; on the other side of Jamaica; while the invalids  were recovering; I paid him a visit; and was initiated into  the mysteries of cane…growing and sugar…making。  As the great  split between the Northern and Southern States on the  question of slavery was pending; the life; condition; and  treatment of the negro was of the greatest interest。  Mr。  Shirley was a gentleman of exceptional ability; and full of  valuable information on these subjects。  He passed me on to  other plantations; and I made the complete round of the  island before returning to my comrades at Golden Grove。  A  few weeks afterwards I stayed with a Spanish gentleman; the  Marquis d'Iznaga; who owned six large sugar plantations in  Cuba; and rode with his son from Casilda to Cienfuegos; from  which port I got a steamer to the Havana。  The ride afforded  abundant opportunities of comparing the slave with the free  negro。  But; as I have written on the subject elsewhere; I  will pass to matters more entertaining。



CHAPTER XVII



ON my arrival at the Havana I found that Durham; who was  still an invalid; had taken up his quarters at Mr。  Crauford's; the Consul…General。  Phoca; who was nearly well  again; was at the hotel; the only one in the town。  And who  should I meet there but my old Cambridge ally; Fred; the last  Lord Calthorpe。  This event was a fruitful one; … it  determined the plans of both of us for a year or more to  come。

Fred … as I shall henceforth call him … had just returned  from a hunting expedition in Texas; with another sportsman  whom he had accidentally met there。  This gentleman  ultimately became of even more importance to me than my old  friend。  I purposely abstain from giving either his name or  his profession; for reasons which will become obvious enough  by…and…by; the outward man may be described。  He stood well  over six  feet in his socks; his frame and limbs were those  of a gladiator; he could crush a horseshoe in one hand; he  had a small head with a bull…neck; purely Grecian features;  thick curly hair with crisp beard and silky moustache。  He so  closely resembled a marble Hercules that (as he must have a  name) we will call him Samson。

Before Fred stumbled upon him; he had spent a winter camping  
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