Green Hills of Africa. Ernest HemingwayЧитать онлайн книгу.
all these women?’
‘What women?’
‘When you were talking about women.’
‘The hell with them,’ I said. ‘Those are the ones you get involved with when you’re drunk.’
‘So that’s what you do.’
‘No.’
‘I don’t get involved with people when I’m drunk.’
‘Come, come,’ said Pop. ‘We’re none of us ever drunk. My God, that man can talk.’
‘He didn’t have a chance to talk after B’wana M’Kumba started.’
‘I did have verbal dysentery,’ I said.
‘What about his lorry? Can we tow it in without ruining ours?’
‘I think so,’ Pop said. ‘When ours comes back from Handeni.’
At lunch under the green fly of the dining-tent, in the shade of a big tree, the wind blowing, the fresh butter much admired, Grant’s gazelle chops, mashed potatoes, green corn, and then mixed fruit for dessert, Kandisky told us why the East Indians were taking the country over.
‘You see, during the war they sent the Indian troops to fight here. To keep them out of India because they feared another mutiny. They promised the Aga Khan that because they fought in Africa, Indians could come freely to settle and for business afterwards. They cannot break that promise and now the Indians have taken the country over from the Europeans. They live on nothing and they send all the money back to India. When they have made enough to go home they leave, bringing out their poor relations to take over from them and continue to exploit the country.’
Pop said nothing. He would not argue with a guest at table.
‘It is the Aga Khan,’ Kandisky said. ‘You are an American. You know nothing of these combinations.’
‘Were you with Von Lettöw?’ Pop asked him.
‘From the start,’ Kandisky said. ‘Until the end.’
‘He was a great fighter,’ Pop said. ‘I have great admiration for him.’
‘You fought?’ Kandisky asked.
‘Yes.’
‘I do not care for Lettöw,’ Kandisky said. ‘He fought, yes. No one ever better. When we wanted quinine he would order it captured. All supplies the same. But afterwards he cared nothing for his men. After the war I am in Germany. I go to see about indemnification for my property. "You are an Austrian," they say. "You must go through Austrian channels." So I go to Austria. "But why did you fight?" they ask me. "You cannot hold us responsible. Suppose you go to fight in China. That is your own affair. We cannot do anything for you."
‘"But I went as a patriot," I say, very foolishly. "I fight where I can because I am an Austrian and I know my duty." "Yes," they say. "That is very beautiful. But you cannot hold us responsible for your noble sentiments." So they passed me from one to the other and nothing. Still I love the country very much. I have lost everything here but I have more than anyone has in Europe. To me it is always interesting. The natives and the language. I have many books of notes on them. Then too, in reality, I am a king here. It is very pleasant. Waking in the morning I extend one foot and the boy places the sock on it. When I am ready I extend the other foot and he adjusts the other sock. I step from under the mosquito bar into my drawers which are held for me. Don’t you think that is very marvellous?’
‘It’s marvellous.’
‘When you come back another time we must take a safari to study the natives. And shoot nothing, or only to eat. Look, I will show you a dance and sing a song.’
Crouched, elbows lifting and falling, knees humping, he shuffled around the table, singing. Undoubtedly it was very fine.
‘That is only one of a thousand,’ he said. ‘Now I must go for a time. You will be sleeping.’
‘There’s no hurry. Stay around.’
‘No. Surely you will be sleeping. I also. I will take the butter to keep it cool.’
‘We’ll see you at supper,’ Pop said.
‘Now you must sleep. Good-bye.’
After he was gone, Pop said: ‘I wouldn’t believe all that about the Aga Khan, you know.’
‘It sounded pretty good.’
‘Of course he feels badly,’ Pop said. ‘Who wouldn’t. Von Lettöw was a hell of a man.’
‘He’s very intelligent,’ my wife said. ‘He talks wonderfully about the natives. But he’s bitter about American women.’
‘So am I,’ said Pop. ‘He’s a good man. You better get some shut-eye. You’ll need to start about three-thirty.’
‘Have them call me.’
Molo raised the back of the tent, propping it with sticks, so the wind blew through and I went to sleep reading, the wind coming in cool and fresh under the heated canvas.
When I woke it was time to go. There were rain clouds in the sky and it was very hot. They had packed some tinned fruit, a five-pound piece of roast meat, bread, tea, a tea pot, and some tinned milk in a whisky box with four bottles of beer. There was a canvas water bag and a ground cloth to use as a tent. M’Cola was taking the big gun out to the car.
‘There’s no hurry about getting back,’ Pop said. ‘We’ll look for you when we see you.’
‘All right.’
‘We’ll send the lorry to haul that sportsman into Handeni. He’s sending his men ahead walking.’
‘You’re sure the lorry can stand it? Don’t do it because he’s a friend of mine.’
‘Have to get him out. The lorry will be in to-night.’
‘The Memsahib’s still asleep,’ I said. ‘Maybe she can get out for a walk and shoot some guineas?’
‘I’m here,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry about us. Oh, I hope you get them.’
‘Don’t send out to look for us along the road until day after to-morrow,’ I said. ‘If there’s a good chance we’ll stay.’
‘Good luck.’
‘Good luck, sweet. Good-bye, Mr. J. P.’
CHAPTER TWO
We were out from under the shade of camp and along the sandy river of a road, driving into the western sun, the bush thick to the edge of the sand, solid as a thicket, the little hills rising above it, and all along the road we passed groups of people making their way to the westward. Some were naked except for a greasy cloth knotted over one shoulder, and carried bows and sealed quivers of arrows. Others carried spears. The wealthy carried umbrellas and wore draped white cloth and their women walked behind them, with their pots and pans. Bundles and loads of skins were scattered along ahead on the heads of other natives. All were travelling away from the famine. And in the heat, my feet out over the side of the car to keep them away from the heat of the engine, hat low over the eyes against the sun, watching the road, the people, and all clearings in the bush for game, we drove to the westward.
Once we saw three lesser kudu cows in an open place of broken bush. Grey, big bellied, long necked, small headed, and with big ears, they moved quickly into the woods and were gone. We left the car and tracked them but there was no bull track.
A little beyond there a flock of guineas quick-legged across the road running steady-headed with the motion of trotters. As I jumped from the car and sprinted after them they rocketed