the mahatma and the hare-第1章
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The Mahatma and the Hare
A Dream Story
by H。 Rider Haggard
〃Ultimately a good hare was found which took the field at 。 。 。
There the hounds pressed her； and on the hunt arriving at the edge
of the cliff the hare could be seen crossing the beach and going
right out to sea。 A boat was procured； and the master and some
others rowed out to her just as she drowned； and； bringing the
body in； gave it to the hounds。 A hare swimming out to sea is a
sight not often witnessed。〃/Local paper； January/ 1911。
〃。 。 。 A long check occurred in the latter part of this hunt； the
hare having laid up in a hedgerow； from which she was at last
evicted by a crack of the whip。 Her next place of refuge was a
horse…pond； which she tried to swim； but got stuck in the ice
midway； and was sinking； when the huntsman went in after her。 It
was a novel sight to see huntsman and hare being lifted over a
wall out of the pond； the eager pack waiting for their prey behind
the wall。〃/Local paper； February/ 1911。
*****
The author supposes that the first of the above extracts must have
impressed him。 At any rate； on the night after the reading of it； just
as he went to sleep； or on the following morning just as he awoke； he
cannot tell which； there came to him the title and the outlines of
this fantasy； including the command with which it ends。 With a
particular clearness did he seem to see the picture of the Great White
Road； 〃straight as the way of the Spirit； and broad as the breast of
Death；〃 and of the little Hare travelling towards the awful Gates。
Like the Mahatma of this fable； he expresses no opinion as to the
merits of the controversy between the Red…faced Man and the Hare that；
without search on his own part； presented itself to his mind in so odd
a fashion。 It is one on which anybody interested in such matters can
form an individual judgment。
THE MAHATMA＇*＇
＇*＇ Mahatma； 〃great…souled。〃 〃One of a class of persons with preter…
natural powers； imagined to exist in India and Thibet。〃/New
English Dictionary/。
Everyone has seen a hare； either crouched or running in the fields； or
hanging dead in a poulterer's shop； or lastly pathetic； even dreadful…
looking and in this form almost indistinguishable from a skinned cat；
on the domestic table。 But not many people have met a Mahatma； at
least to their knowledge。 Not many people know even who or what a
Mahatma is。 The majority of those who chance to have heard the title
are apt to confuse it with another； that of Mad Hatter。
This is even done of malice prepense （especially； for obvious reasons；
if a hare is in any way concerned） in scorn； not in ignorance； by
persons who are well acquainted with the real meaning of the word and
even with its Sanscrit origin。 The truth is that an incredulous
Western world puts no faith in Mahatmas。 To it a Mahatma is a kind of
spiritual Mrs。 Harris； giving an address in Thibet at which no letters
are delivered。 Either； it says； there is no such person； or he is a
fraudulent scamp with no greater occult powerswell； than a hare。
I confess that this view of Mahatmas is one that does not surprise me
in the least。 I never met； and I scarcely expect to meet； an
individual entitled to set 〃Mahatma〃 after his name。 Certainly /I/
have no right to do so； who only took that title on the spur of the
moment when the Hare asked me how I was called； and now make use of it
as a /nom…de…plume/。 It is true there is Jorsen； by whose order； for
it amounts to that； I publish this history。 For aught I know Jorsen
may be a Mahatma； but he does not in the least look the part。
Imagine a bluff person with a strong； hard face； piercing grey eyes；
and very prominent； bushy eyebrows； of about fifty or sixty years of
age。 Add a Scotch accent and a meerschaum pipe； which he smokes even
when he is wearing a frock coat and a tall hat； and you have Jorsen。 I
believe that he lives somewhere in the country； is well off； and
practises gardening。 If so he has never asked me to his place； and I
only meet him when he comes to Town； as I understand； to visit flower…
shows。
Then I always meet him because he orders me to do so； not by letter or
by word of mouth but in quite a different way。 Suddenly I receive an
impression in my mind that I am to go to a certain place at a certain
hour； and that there I shall find Jorsen。 I do go； sometimes to an
hotel； sometimes to a lodging； sometimes to a railway station or to
the corner of a particular street and there I do find Jorsen smoking
his big meerschaum pipe。 We shake hands and he explains why he has
sent for me； after which we talk of various things。 Never mind what
they are； for that would be telling Jorsen's secrets as well as my
own； which I must not do。
It may be asked how I came to know Jorsen。 Well； in a strange way。
Nearly thirty years ago a dreadful thing happened to me。 I was married
and； although still young； a person of some mark in literature。 Indeed
even now one or two of the books which I wrote are read and
remembered； although it is supposed that their author has long left
the world。
The thing which happened was that my wife and our daughter were coming
over from the Channel Islands； where they had been on a visit （she was
a Jersey woman）； and； andwell； the ship was lost； that's all。 The
shock broke my heart； in such a way that it has never been mended
again； but unfortunately did not kill me。
Afterwards I took to drink and sank； as drunkards do。 Then the river
began to draw me。 I had a lodging in a poor street at Chelsea； and I
could hear the river calling me at night； andI wished to die as the
others had died。 At last I yielded； for the drink had rotted out all
my moral sense。 About one o'clock of a wild； winter morning I went to
a bridge I knew where in those days policemen rarely came； and
listened to that call of the water。
〃Come！〃 it seemed to say。 〃This world is the real hell； ending in the
eternal naught。 The dreams of a life beyond and of re…union there are
but a demon's mocking breathed into the mortal heart； lest by its
universal suicide mankind should rob him of his torture…pit。 There is
no truth in all your father taught you〃 （he was a clergyman and rather
eminent in his profession）； 〃there is no hope for man； there is
nothing he can win except the deep happiness of sleep。 Come and
sleep。〃
Such were the arguments of that Voice of the river； the old； familiar
arguments of desolation and despair。 I leant over the parapet； in
another moment I should have been gone； when I became aware that some
one was standing near to me。 I did not see the person because it was
too dark。 I did not hear him because of the raving of the wind。 But I
knew that he was there。 So I waited until the moon shone out for a
while between the edges of two ragged clouds； the shapes of which I
can see to this hour。 It showed me Jorsen； looking just as he does
to…day； for he never seems to changeJorsen； on whom； to my
knowledge； I had not set eyes before。
〃Even a year ago；〃 he said； in his strong； rough voice； 〃you would not
have allowed your mind to be convinced by such arguments as those
which you have just heard in the Voice of the river。 That is one of
the worst sides of drink； it decays the reason as it does the body。
You must have noticed it yourself。〃
I replied that I had； for I was surprised into acquiescence。 Then I
grew defiant and asked him what he knew of the arguments which were or
were not influencing me。 To my surpriseno； that is not the wordto
my bewilderment； he repeated them to me one by one just as they had
arisen a few minutes before in my heart。 Moreover； he told me what I
had been about to do； and why I was about to do it。
〃You know me and my story；〃 I muttered at last。
〃No；〃 he answered； 〃at least not more than I know that of many men
with whom I chance to be in touch。 That is； I have not met you for
nearly eleven hundred years。 A thousand and eighty…six； to be correct。
I was a blind priest then and you were the captain of Irene's guard。〃
At this news I burst out laughing and the laugh did me good。
〃I did not know I was so old；〃 I said
