非洲的青山文档格式.docx

非洲的青山文档格式.docx

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hesaidagainandspreadhisarmswide.IhadneverlikedhimandIlikedhim.lessnow.

After,'

Iwhispered.M'

Colashookhishead.IlookedathisbaldblackskullandheturnedhisfacealittlesothatIsawthethinChinesehairsatthecornersofhismouth.

Nogood,'

hesaid.{'

Hapanam'

uzuri.'

}

Waitalittle,'

Itoldhim.Hebenthisheaddownagainsothatitwouldnotshowabovethedeadbranchesandwesatthereinthedustoftheholeuntilitwastoodarktoseethefrontsightonmyrifle;

butnothingmorecame.Thetheatricaltrackerwasimpatientandrestless.

AlittlebeforethelastofthelightwasgonehewhisperedtoM'

Colathatitwasnowtoodarkto

shoot.

Shutup,you,'

M'

Colatoldhim.'

TheBwanacanshootafteryoucannotsee.'

Theothertracker,theeducatedone,gaveanotherdemonstrationofhiseducationbyscratchinghisname,Abdullah,ontheblackskinofhislegwithasharptwig.IwatchedwithoutadmirationandM'

Colalookedatthewordwithoutashadowofexpressiononhisface.Afterawhilethetrackerscratcheditout.

FinallyImadealastsightagainstwhatwasleftofthelightandsawitwasnouse,evenwiththelargeaperture.

M'

Colawaswatching.'

Isaid.

Yes,'

heagreed,inSwahili.'

Gotocamp?

'

Yes.'

Westoodupandmadeourwayoutoftheblindandoutthroughthetrees,walkingonthesandyloam,feelingourwaybetweentreesandunderbranches,backtotheroad.Amilealongtheroadwasthecar.Aswecamealongside,Kamau,thedriver,putthelightson.

Thelorryhadspoiledit.Thatafternoonwehadleftthecaruptheroadandapproachedthesalt-lickverycarefully.Therehadbeenalittlerain,thedaybefore,thoughnotenoughtofloodthelick,whichwassimplyanopeninginthetreeswithapatchofearthwornintodeepcirclesandgroovedattheedgeswithhollowswheretheanimalshadlickedthedirtforsalt,andwehadseenlong,heart-shaped,freshtracksoffourgreaterkudubullsthathadbeenonthesaltthenightbefore,aswellasmanynewlypressedtracksoflesserkudu.Therewasalsoarhinowho,fromthetracksandthekicked-upmoundofstrawydung,camethereeachnight.Theblindhadbeenbuiltatclosearrow-shotofthelick,andsitting,leaningback,kneeshigh,headslow,inahollowhalffullofashesanddust,watchingthroughthedriedleavesandthinbranchesIhadseenalesserkudubullcomeoutofthebrushtotheedgeoftheopeningwherethesaltwasandstandthere,heavy-necked,grey,andhandsome,thehornsspiralledagainstthesunwhileIsightedonhischestandthenrefusedtheshot,wantingnottofrightenthegreaterkuduthatshouldsurelycomeatdusk.Butbeforeweeverheardthelorrythebullhadhearditandrunoffintothetrees,andeverythingelsethathadbeenmoving,inthebushontheflats,orcomingdownfromthesmallhillsthroughthetrees,comingtowardthesalt,hadhaltedatthatexploding,clankingsound.Theywouldcome,later,inthedark,butthenitwouldbetoolate.

Sonow,goingalongthesandytrackoftheroadinthecar,thelightspickingouttheeyesofnightbirdsthatsquattedcloseonthesanduntilthebulkofthecarwasonthemandtheyroseinsoftpanic;

passingthefiresofthetravellersthatallmovedtothewestwardbydayalongthisroad,

abandoningthefaminecountrythatwasaheadofus,mesitting,thebuttofmyrifleonmyfoot,thebarrelinthecrookofmyleftarm,aflaskofwhiskybetweenmyknees,pouringthewhiskyintoatincupandpassingitovermyshoulderinthedarkforM'

Colatopourwaterintoitfromthecanteen,drinkingthis,thefirstoneoftheday,thefinestonethereis,andlootingatthethickbushwepassedinthedark,feelingthecoolwindofthenightandsmellingthegoodsmellofAfrica,Iwasaltogetherhappy.

Thenaheadwesawabigfireandaswecameupandpassed,Imadeoutalorrybesidetheroad.ItoldKamautostopandgobackandaswebackedintothefirelighttherewasashort,bandy-leggedmanwithaTyrolesehat,leathershorts,andanopenshirtstandingbeforeanunhoodedengineinacrowdofnatives.

Canwehelp?

Iaskedhim.

Wo,'

hesaid.'

Unlessyouareamechanic.Ithastakenadisliketome.Allenginesdislikeme.'

Doyouthinkitcouldbethetimer?

Itsoundedasthoughitmightbeatimingknockwhenyouwentpastus.'

Ithinkitismuchworsethanthat.Itsoundstobesomethingverybad.'

Ifyoucangettoourcampwehaveamechanic.'

Howfarisit?

Abouttwentymiles.'

InthemorningIwilltryit.NowIamafraidtomakeitgofartherwiththatnoiseofdeathinside.Itistryingtodiebecauseitdislikesme.Well,Idislikeittoo.ButifIdieitwouldnotannoyit.'

Willyouhaveadrink?

Iheldouttheflask.'

Hemingwayismyname.'

Kandisky,'

hesaidandbowed.'

HemingwayisanameIhaveheard.Where?

WherehaveIheardit?

Oh,yes.The{dichter}.YouknowHemingwaythepoet?

Wheredidyoureadhim?

Inthe{Querschnitt.'

Thatisme,'

Isaid,verypleased.The{Querschnitt}wasaGermanmagazineIhadwrittensomeratherobscenepoemsfor,andpublishedalongstoryin,yearsbeforeIcouldsellanythinginAmerica.

Thisisverystrange,'

themanintheTyrolesehatsaid.'

Tellme,whatdoyouthinkofRingelnatz?

Heissplendid.'

So.YoulikeRingelnatz.Good.WhatdoyouthinkofHeinrichMann?

Heisnogood.'

Youbelieveit?

AllIknowisthatIcannotreadhim.'

Heisnogoodatall.Iseewehavethingsincommon.Whatareyoudoinghere?

Shooting.'

{'

Not}ivory,Ihope.'

No.Forkudu.'

Whyshouldanymanshootakudu?

You,anintelligentman,apoet,toshootkudu.'

Ihaven'

tshotanyyet,'

Isaid.'

Butwe'

vebeenhuntingthemhardnowfortendays.Wewouldhavegotoneto-nightifithadn'

tbeenforyourlorry.'

Thatpoorlorry.Butyoushouldhuntforayear.Attheendofthattimeyouhaveshoteverythingandyouaresorryforit.Tohuntforonespecialanimalisnonsense.Whydoyoudoit?

Iliketodoit.'

Ofcourse,ifyou{like}todoit.Tellme,whatdoyoureallythinkofRilke?

Ihavereadonlytheonething.'

Which?

TheCornet.'

Youlikedit?

Ihavenopatiencewithit.Itissnobbery.Valery,yes.IseethepointofValery,althoughthereismuchsnobberytoo.Wellatleastyoudonotkillelephants.'

I'

dkillabigenoughone.'

Howbig?

Aseventy-pounder.Maybesmaller.'

Iseetherearethingswedonotagreeon.Butitisapleasuretomeetoneofthegreatold

{Querschnitt}group.TellmewhatisJoycelike?

Ihavenotthemoneytobuyit.SinclairLewisisnothing.Iboughtit.No.No.Tellmeto-morrow.YoudonotmindifIamcampednear?

Youarewithfriends?

Youhaveawhitehunter?

Withmywife.Wewouldbedelighted.Yes,awhitehunter.'

Whyishenotoutwithyou?

Hebelievesyoushouldhuntkudualone.'

Itisbetternottohuntthematall.Whatishe?

English?

BloodyEnglish?

No.Verynice.Youwilllikehim.'

Youmustgo.Imustnotkeepyou.PerhapsIwillseeyouto-morrow.Itwasverystrangethatweshouldmeet.'

Havethemlookatthelorryto-morrow.Anythingwecando?

Goodnight,'

Goodtrip.'

Isaid.WestartedoffandIsawhimwalkingtowardthefirewavinganarmatthenatives.Ihadnotaskedhimwhyhehadtwentyup-countrynativeswithhim,norwherehewasgoing.Lookingback,Ihadaskedhimnothing.Idonotliketoaskquestions,andwhereIwasbroughtupitwasnotpolite.Butherewehadnotseenawhitemanfortwoweeks,notsincewehadleftBabatitogosouth,andthentorunintooneonthisroadwhereyoumetonlyanoccasionalIndiantraderandthesteadymigrationofthenativesoutofthefaminecountry,tohavehimlooklikeacaricatureofBenchleyinTyroleancostume,tohavehimknowyourname,tocallyouapoet,tohavereadthe{Querschnitt},tobeanadmirerofJoachimRingelnatzandtowanttotalkaboutRilke,wastoofantastictodealwith.So,justthen,tocrownthisfantasy,thelightsofthecarshowedthreetall,conical,moundsofsomethingsmokingintheroadahead.ImotionedtoKamautostop,andputtingonthebrakesweskiddedjustshortofthem.TheywerefromtwotothreefeethighandwhenItouchedoneitwasquitewarm.

Tembo,'

}M'

Colasaid.

Itwasdungfromelephantsthathadjustcrossedtheroad,andinthecoldoftheeveningyoucouldseeitsteaming.Inalittlewhilewewereincamp.

NextmorningIwasupandawaytoanothersalt-lickbeforedayl