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第23章

the mirror of the sea-第23章

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white dry sails the hard blueness of the deep sea。  There we were;



a growing company of ships; each with her burden of grain; of



timber; of wool; of hides; and even of oranges; for we had one or



two belated fruit schooners in company。  There we were; in that



memorable spring of a certain year in the late seventies; dodging



to and fro; baffled on every tack; and with our stores running down



to sweepings of bread…lockers and scrapings of sugar…casks。  It was



just like the East Wind's nature to inflict starvation upon the



bodies of unoffending sailors; while he corrupted their simple



souls by an exasperation leading to outbursts of profanity as lurid



as his blood…red sunrises。  They were followed by gray days under



the cover of high; motionless clouds that looked as if carved in a



slab of ash…coloured marble。  And each mean starved sunset left us



calling with imprecations upon the West Wind even in its most



veiled misty mood to wake up and give us our liberty; if only to



rush on and dash the heads of our ships against the very walls of



our unapproachable home。















XXIX。















In the atmosphere of the Easterly weather; as pellucid as a piece



of crystal and refracting like a prism; we could see the appalling



numbers of our helpless company; even to those who in more normal



conditions would have remained invisible; sails down under the



horizon。  It is the malicious pleasure of the East Wind to augment



the power of your eyesight; in order; perhaps; that you should see



better the perfect humiliation; the hopeless character of your



captivity。  Easterly weather is generally clear; and that is all



that can be said for it … almost supernaturally clear when it



likes; but whatever its mood; there is something uncanny in its



nature。  Its duplicity is such that it will deceive a scientific



instrument。  No barometer will give warning of an easterly gale;



were it ever so wet。  It would be an unjust and ungrateful thing to



say that a barometer is a stupid contrivance。  It is simply that



the wiles of the East Wind are too much for its fundamental



honesty。  After years and years of experience the most trusty



instrument of the sort that ever went to sea screwed on to a ship's



cabin bulkhead will; almost invariably; be induced to rise by the



diabolic ingenuity of the Easterly weather; just at the moment when



the Easterly weather; discarding its methods of hard; dry;



impassive cruelty; contemplates drowning what is left of your



spirit in torrents of a peculiarly cold and horrid rain。  The



sleet…and…hail squalls following the lightning at the end of a



westerly gale are cold and benumbing and stinging and cruel enough。



But the dry; Easterly weather; when it turns to wet; seems to rain



poisoned showers upon your head。  It is a sort of steady;



persistent; overwhelming; endlessly driving downpour; which makes



your heart sick; and opens it to dismal forebodings。  And the



stormy mood of the Easterly weather looms black upon the sky with a



peculiar and amazing blackness。  The West Wind hangs heavy gray



curtains of mist and spray before your gaze; but the Eastern



interloper of the narrow seas; when he has mustered his courage and



cruelty to the point of a gale; puts your eyes out; puts them out



completely; makes you feel blind for life upon a lee…shore。  It is



the wind; also; that brings snow。







Out of his black and merciless heart he flings a white blinding



sheet upon the ships of the sea。  He has more manners of villainy;



and no more conscience than an Italian prince of the seventeenth



century。  His weapon is a dagger carried under a black cloak when



he goes out on his unlawful enterprises。  The mere hint of his



approach fills with dread every craft that swims the sea; from



fishing…smacks to four…masted ships that recognise the sway of the



West Wind。  Even in his most accommodating mood he inspires a dread



of treachery。  I have heard upwards of ten score of windlasses



spring like one into clanking life in the dead of night; filling



the Downs with a panic…struck sound of anchors being torn hurriedly



out of the ground at the first breath of his approach。



Fortunately; his heart often fails him:  he does not always blow



home upon our exposed coast; he has not the fearless temper of his



Westerly brother。







The natures of those two winds that share the dominions of the



great oceans are fundamentally different。  It is strange that the



winds which men are prone to style capricious remain true to their



character in all the various regions of the earth。  To us here; for



instance; the East Wind comes across a great continent; sweeping



over the greatest body of solid land upon this earth。  For the



Australian east coast the East Wind is the wind of the ocean;



coming across the greatest body of water upon the globe; and yet



here and there its characteristics remain the same with a strange



consistency in everything that is vile and base。  The members of



the West Wind's dynasty are modified in a way by the regions they



rule; as a Hohenzollern; without ceasing to be himself; becomes a



Roumanian by virtue of his throne; or a Saxe…Coburg learns to put



the dress of Bulgarian phrases upon his particular thoughts;



whatever they are。







The autocratic sway of the West Wind; whether forty north or forty



south of the Equator; is characterized by an open; generous; frank;



barbarous recklessness。  For he is a great autocrat; and to be a



great autocrat you must be a great barbarian。  I have been too much



moulded to his sway to nurse now any idea of rebellion in my heart。



Moreover; what is a rebellion within the four walls of a room



against the tempestuous rule of the West Wind?  I remain faithful



to the memory of the mighty King with a double…edged sword in one



hand; and in the other holding out rewards of great daily runs and



famously quick passages to those of his courtiers who knew how to



wait watchfully for every sign of his secret mood。  As we deep…



water men always reckoned; he made one year in three fairly lively



for anybody having business upon the Atlantic or down there along



the 〃forties〃 of the Southern Ocean。  You had to take the bitter



with the sweet; and it cannot be denied he played carelessly with



our lives and fortunes。  But; then; he was always a great king; fit



to rule over the great waters where; strictly speaking; a man would



have no business whatever but for his audacity。







The audacious should not complain。  A mere trader ought not to



grumble at the tolls levied by a mighty king。  His mightiness was



sometimes very overwhelming; but even when you had to defy him



openly; as on the banks of the Agulhas homeward bound from the East



Indies; or on the outward passage round the Horn; he struck at you



fairly his stinging blows (full in the face; too); and it was your



business not to get too much staggered。  And; after all; if you



showed anything of a countenance; the good…natured barbarian would



let you fight your way past the very steps of his throne。  It was



only now and then that the sword descended and a head fell; but if



you fell you were sure of impressive obsequies and of a roomy;



generous grave。







Such is the king to whom Viking chieftains bowed their heads; and



whom the modern and palatial steamship defies with impunity seven



times a week。  And yet it is but defiance; not victory。  The



magnificent barbarian sits enthroned in a mantle of gold…lined



clouds looking from on high on great ships gliding like mechanical



toys upon his sea and on men who; armed with fire and iron; no



longer need to watch anxiously for the slightest sign of his royal



mood。  He is disregarded; but he has kept all his strength; all his



splendour; and a grea

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