the story of an african farm-第59章

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〃One　Sunday　we　outspanned　on　the　banks　of　a　swollen　river　to　wait　for　its

going　down。　　It　was　drizzling　still；　so　I　lay　under　the　wagon　on　the　mud。　

There　was　no　dry　place　anywhere；　and　all　the　dung　was　wet；　so　there　was　no

fire　to　cook　food。　　My　little　flask　was　filled　with　brandy；　and　I　drank

some　and　went　to　sleep。　　When　I　woke　it　was　drizzling　still；　so　I　drank

some　more。　　I　was　stiff　and　cold；　and　my　master；　who　lay　by　me；　offered　me

his　flask；　because　mine　was　empty。　　I　drank　some；　and　then　I　thought　I

would　go　and　see　if　the　river　was　going　down。　　I　remember　that　I　walked　to

the　road；　and　it　seemed　to　be　going　away　from　me。　　When　I　woke　up　I　was

lying　by　a　little　bush　on　the　bank　of　the　river。　　It　was　afternoon；　all　the

clouds　had　gone；　and　the　sky　was　deep　blue。　　The　Bushman　boy　was　grilling

ribs　at　the　fire。　　He　looked　at　me　and　grinned　from　ear　to　ear。　　'Master

was　a　little　nice；'　he　said；　'and　lay　down　in　the　road。　　Something　might

ride　over　master；　so　I　carried　him　there。'　　He　grinned　at　me　again。　　It　was

as　though　he　said；　'You　and　I　are　comrades。　　I　have　lain　in　a　road；　too。　　I

know　all　about　it。'



〃When　I　turned　my　head　from　him　I　saw　the　earth；　so　pure　after　the　rain；　so

green；　so　fresh；　so　blue；　and　I　was　a　drunken　carrier；　whom　his　leader　had

picked　up　in　the　mud；　and　laid　at　the　roadside　to　sleep　out　his　drink。　　I

remember　my　old　life；　and　I　remember　you。　　I　saw　how；　one　day；　you　would

read　in　the　papers：　　'A　German　carrier；　named　Waldo　Farber；　was　killed

through　falling　from　his　wagon；　being　instantly　crushed　under　the　wheel。　

Deceased　was　supposed　to　have　been　drunk　at　the　time　of　the　accident。'　

There　are　those　notices　in　the　paper　every　month。　　I　sat　up；　and　I　took　the

brandy…flask　out　of　my　pocket；　and　I　flung　it　as　far　as　I　could　into　the

dark　water。　　The　Hottentot　boy　ran　down　to　see　if　he　could　catch　it；　it　had

sunk　to　the　bottom。　　I　never　drank　again。　　But；　Lyndall；　sin　looks　much

more　terrible　to　those　who　look　at　it　than　to　those　who　do　it。　　A　convict；

or　a　man　who　drinks；　seems　something　so　far　off　and　horrible　when　we　see

him；　but　to　himself　he　seems　quite　near　to　us；　and　like　us。　　We　wonder　what

kind　of　a　creature　he　is；　but　he　is　just　we；　ourselves。　　We　are　only　the

wood；　the　knife　that　carves　on　us　is　the　circumstance。



〃I　do　not　know　why　I　kept　on　working　so　hard　for　that　master。　　I　think　it

was　as　the　oxen　come　every　day　and　stand　by　the　yokes；　they　do　not　know

why。　　Perhaps　I　would　have　been　with　him　still；　but　one　day　we　started　with

loads　for　the　Diamond　Fields。　　The　oxen　were　very　thin　now；　and　they　had

been　standing　about　in　the　yoke　all　day　without　food；　while　the　wagons　were

being　loaded。　　Not　far　from　the　town　was　a　hill。　　When　we　came　to　the　foot

the　first　wagon　stuck　fast。　　I　tried　for　a　little　while　to　urge　the　oxen；

but　I　soon　saw　the　one　span　could　never　pull　it　up。　　I　went　to　the　other

wagon　to　loosen　that　span　to　join　them　on　in　front；　but　the　transport…

rider；　who　was　lying　at　the　back　of　the　wagon；　jumped　out。



〃'They　shall　bring　it　up　the　hill；　and　if　half　of　them　die　for　it　they

shall　do　it　alone；'　he　said。



〃He　was　not　drunk；　but　in　bad　temper；　for　he　had　been　drunk　the　night

before。　　He　swore　at　me；　and　told　me　to　take　the　whip　and　help　him。　　We

tried　for　a　little　time；　then　I　told　him　it　was　no　use；　they　could　never　do

it。　　He　swore　louder　and　called　to　the　leaders　to　come　on　with　their　whips；

and　together　they　lashed。　　There　was　one　ox；　a　black　ox；　so　thin　that　the

ridge　of　his　backbone　almost　cut　through　his　flesh。



〃'It　is　you；　devil；　is　it；　that　will　not　pull？'　the　transport…rider　said。　

'I　will　show　you　something。'　　He　looked　like　a　devil。



〃He　told　the　boys　to　leave　off　flogging；　and　he　held　the　ox　by　the　horn；

and　took　up　a　round　stone　and　knocked　its　nose　with　it　till　the　blood　came。

When　he　had　done　they　called　to　the　oxen　and　took　up　their　whips　again；　and

the　oxen　strained　with　their　backs　bent；　but　the　wagon　did　not　move　an

inch。



〃'So　you　won't；　won't　you？'　he　said。　　I'll　help　you。'



〃He　took　out　his　clasp…knife；　and　ran　it　into　the　leg　of　the　trembling　ox

three　times；　up　to　the　hilt。　　Then　he　put　the　knife　in　his　pocket；　and　they

took　their　whips。　　The　oxen's　flanks　quivered；　and　they　foamed　at　the

mouth。　　Straining；　they　moved　the　wagon　a　few　feet　forward；　then　stood　with

bent　backs　to　keep　it　from　sliding　back。　　From　the　black　ox's　nostrils　foam

and　blood　were　streaming　on　to　the　ground。　　It　turned　its　head　in　its

anguish　and　looked　at　me　with　its　great　starting　eyes。　　It　was　praying　for

help　in　its　agony　and　weakness；　and　they　took　their　whips　again。　　The

creature　bellowed　aloud。　　If　there　is　a　God；　it　was　calling　to　its　Maker

for　help。　　Then　a　stream　of　clear　blood　burst　from　both　nostrils；　it　fell

on　to　the　ground；　and　the　wagon　slipped　back。　　The　man　walked　up　to　it。



〃'You　are　going　to　lie　down；　devil；　are　you？　　We'll　see　you　don't　take　it

too　easy。'



〃The　thing　was　just　dying。　　He　opened　his　clasp…knife　and　stooped　down　over

it。　　I　do　not　know　what　I　did　then。　　But　afterward　I　know　I　had　him　on　the

stones；　and　I　was　kneeling　on　him。　　The　boys　dragged　me　off。　　I　wish　they

had　not。　　I　left　him　standing　in　the　sand　in　the　road；　shaking　himself；　and

I　walked　back　to　the　town。　　I　took　nothing　from　that　accursed　wagon；　so　I

had　only　two　shillings。　　But　it　did　not　matter。　　The　next　day　I　got　work　at

a　wholesale　store。　　My　work　was　to　pack　and　unpack　goods；　and　to　carry

boxes；　and　I　had　to　work　from　six　in　the　morning　to　six　in　the　evening；　so

I　had　plenty　of　time。



〃I　hired　a　little　room；　and　subscribed　to　a　library；　so　I　had　everything　I

needed；　and　in　the　week　of　Christmas　holidays　I　went　to　see　the　sea。　　I

walked　all　night；　Lyndall；　to　escape　the　heat；　and　a　little　after　sunrise　I

got　to　the　top　of　a　high　hill。　　Before　me　was　a　long；　low；　blue；　monotonous

mountain。　　I　walked　looking　at　it；　but　I　was　thinking　of　the　sea　I　wanted

to　see。　　At　last　I　wondered　what　that　curious　blue　thing　might　be；　then　it

struck　me　it　was　the　sea！　　I　would　have　turned　back　again；　only　I　was　too

tired。　　I　wonder　if　all　the　things　we　long　to　seethe　churches；　the

pictures；　the　men　in　Europewill　disappoint　us　so！　　You　see　I　had　dreamed

of　it　so　long。　　When　I　was　a　little　boy；　minding　sheep　behind　the　kopje；　I

used　to　see　the　waves　stretching　out　as　far　as　the　eye　could　reach　in　the

sunlight。　　My　sea！　　Is　the　idea　always　more　beautiful　than　the　real？



〃I　got　to　the　beach　that　afternoon；　and　I　saw　the　water　run　up　and　down　on

the　sand；　and　I　saw　the　white　foam　breakers；　they　were　pretty；　but　I

thought　I　would　go　back　the　next　day。　　It　was　not　my　sea。



〃But　I　began　to　like　it　when　I　sat　by　it　that　night　in　the　moonlight；　and

the　next　day　I　liked　it　better；　and　before　I　left　I　loved　it。　　It　was　not

like　the　sky　and　stars；　that　talk　of　what　has　no　beginning　and　no　end；　but

it　is　so　human。　　Of　all　the　things　I　have　ever　seen；　only　the　sea　is　like　a

human　being；　the　sky　is　not；　nor　the　earth。　　But　the　sea　is　always　moving；

always　something　deep　in　itself　is　stirring　it。　　It　never　rests。　　It　is

always　wanting；　wanting；　wanting。　　It　hurries　on；　and　then　it　creeps　back

slowly　without　having　reached；　moaning。　　It　is　always　asking　a　question；

and　it　never　gets　the　answer。　　I　can　hear　it　in　the　day　and　in　the　night；

the　white　foam　breakers　are　saying　that　which　I　think。　　I　walk　alone　with

them　when　there　is　no　one　to　see　me；　and　I　sing　with　them。　　I　lie　down　on

the　sand　and　watch　them　with　my　eyes　half　shut。　　The　sky　is　better；　but　it

is　so　high　above　our　heads。　　I　love　the　sea。　　Sometimes　we　must　look　down

too。　　After　five　days　I　went　back　to　Grahamstown。



〃I　had　glorious　books；　and　in　the　night　I　could　sit　in　my　little　room　and

read　them；　but　I　was　lonely。　　Books　are　not　the　same　things　when　you　are

living　among　people。　　I　cannot　tell　why；　but　they　are　dead。　　On　the　farm

they　would　have　been　living　beings　to　me；　but　h