child of storm-第2部分

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glass　of　our　conventions；　leaving　out　those　aspects　of　it　which　we　have
forgotten　or　do　not　think　it　polite　to　mention。　　But　I；　Allan
Quatermain；　reflecting　upon　these　matters　in　my　ignorant　and　uneducated
fashion；　have　always　held　that　no　one　really　understands　human　nature
who　has　not　studied　it　in　the　rough。　　Well；　that　is　the　aspect　of　it
with　which　I　have　been　best　acquainted。

For　most　of　the　years　of　my　life　I　have　handled　the　raw　material；　the
virgin　ore；　not　the　finished　ornament　that　is　smelted　out　of　itif；
indeed；　it　is　finished　yet；　which　I　greatly　doubt。　　I　dare　say　that　a
time　may　come　when　the　perfected　generationsif　Civilisation；　as　we
understand　it；　really　has　a　future　and　any　such　should　be　allowed　to
enjoy　their　hour　on　the　Worldwill　look　back　to　us　as　crude；
half…developed　creatures　whose　only　merit　was　that　we　handed　on　the
flame　of　life。

Maybe；　maybe；　for　everything　goes　by　comparison；　and　at　one　end　of　the
ladder　is　the　ape…man；　and　at　the　other；　as　we　hope；　the　angel。　　No；　not
the　angel；　he　belongs　to　a　different　sphere；　but　that　last　expression　of
humanity　upon　which　I　will　not　speculate。　　While　man　is　manthat　is；
before　he　suffers　the　magical　death…change　into　spirit；　if　such　should
be　his　destinywell；　he　will　remain　man。　　I　mean　that　the　same　passions
will　sway　him；　he　will　aim　at　the　same　ambitions；　he　will　know　the　same
joys　and　be　oppressed　by　the　same　fears；　whether　he　lives　in　a　Kafir　hut
or　in　a　golden　palace；　whether　he　walks　upon　his　two　feet　or；　as　for
aught　I　know　he　may　do　one　day；　flies　through　the　air。　　This　is　certain：
that　in　the　flesh　he　can　never　escape　from　our　atmosphere；　and　while　he
breathes　it；　in　the　main　with　some　variations　prescribed　by　climate；
local　law　and　religion；　he　will　do　much　as　his　forefathers　did　for
countless　ages。

That　is　why　I　have　always　found　the　savage　so　interesting；　for　in　him；
nakedly　and　forcibly　expressed；　we　see　those　eternal　principles　which
direct　our　human　destiny。

To　descend　from　these　generalities；　that　is　why　also　I；　who　hate
writing；　have　thought　it　worth　while；　at　the　cost　of　some　labour　to
myself；　to　occupy　my　leisure　in　what　to　me　is　a　strange　landfor
although　I　was　born　in　England；　it　is　not　my　countryin　setting　down
various　experiences　of　my　life　that　do；　in　my　opinion；　interpret　this
our　universal　nature。　　I　dare　say　that　no　one　will　ever　read　them；
still；　perhaps　they　are　worthy　of　record；　and　who　knows？　　In　days　to
come　they　may　fall　into　the　hands　of　others　and　prove　of　value。　　At　any
rate；　they　are　true　stories　of　interesting　peoples；　who；　if　they　should
survive　in　the　savage　competition　of　the　nations；　probably　are　doomed　to
undergo　great　changes。　　Therefore　I　tell　of　them　before　they　began　to
change。

Now；　although　I　take　it　out　of　its　strict　chronological　order；　the　first
of　these　histories　that　I　wish　to　preserve　is　in　the　main　that　of　an
extremely　beautiful　womanwith　the　exception　of　a　certain　Nada；　called
〃the　Lily；〃　of　whom　I　hope　to　speak　some　day；　I　think　the　most　beautiful
that　ever　lived　among　the　Zulus。　　Also　she　was；　I　think；　the　most　able；
the　most　wicked；　and　the　most　ambitious。　　Her　attractive　namefor　it
was　very　attractive　as　the　Zulus　said　it；　especially　those　of　them　who
were　in　love　with　herwas　Mameena；　daughter　of　Umbezi。　　Her　other　name
was　Child　of　Storm　（Ingane…ye…Sipepo；　or；　more　freely　and　shortly；
O…we…Zulu）；　but　the　word　〃Ma…mee…na〃　had　its　origin　in　the　sound　of　the
wind　that　wailed　about　the　hut　when　she　was　born。*

＇*The　Zulu　word　〃Meena〃or　more　correctly　〃Mina〃means　〃Come　here；〃
and　would　therefore　be　a　name　not　unsuitable　to　one　of　the　heroine's
proclivities；　but　Mr。　Quatermain　does　not　seem　to　accept　this
interpretation。EDITOR。＇

Since　I　have　been　settled　in　England　I　have　readof　course　in　a
translationthe　story　of　Helen　of　Troy；　as　told　by　the　Greek　poet；
Homer。　　Well；　Mameena　reminds　me　very　much　of　Helen；　or；　rather；　Helen
reminds　me　of　Mameena。　　At　any　rate；　there　was　this　in　common　between
them；　although　one　of　them　was　black；　or；　rather；　copper…coloured；　and
the　other　whitethey　both　were　lovely；　moreover；　they　both　were
faithless；　and　brought　men　by　hundreds　to　their　deaths。　　There；　perhaps；
the　resemblance　ends；　since　Mameena　had　much　more　fire　and　grit　than
Helen　could　boast；　who；　unless　Homer　misrepresents　her；　must　have　been
but　a　poor　thing　after　all。　　Beauty　Itself；　which　those　old　rascals　of
Greek　gods　made　use　of　to　bait　their　snares　set　for　the　lives　and　honour
of　men；　such　was　Helen；　no　more；　that　is；　as　I　understand　her；　who　have
not　had　the　advantage　of　a　classical　education。　　Now；　Mameena；　although
she　was　superstitiousa　common　weakness　of　great　mindsacknowledging
no　gods　in　particular；　as　we　understand　them；　set　her　own　snares；　with
varying　success　but　a　very　definite　object；　namely；　that　of　becoming　the
first　woman　in　the　world　as　she　knew　itthe　stormy；　bloodstained　world
of　the　Zulus。

But　the　reader　shall　judge　for　himself；　if　ever　such　a　person　should
chance　to　cast　his　eye　upon　this　history。


It　was　in　the　year　1854　that　I　first　met　Mameena；　and　my　acquaintance
with　her　continued　off　and　on　until　1856；　when　it　came　to　an　end　in　a
fashion　that　shall　be　told　after　the　fearful　battle　of　the　Tugela　in
which　Umbelazi；　Panda's　son　and　Cetewayo's　brotherwho；　to　his　sorrow；
had　also　met　Mameenalost　his　life。　　I　was　still　a　youngish　man　in
those　days；　although　I　had　already　buried　my　second　wife；　as　I　have　told
elsewhere；　after　our　brief　but　happy　time　of　marriage。

Leaving　my　boy　in　charge　of　some　kind　people　in　Durban；　I　started　into
〃the　Zulu〃a　land　with　which　I　had　already　become　well　acquainted　as　a
youth；　there　to　carry　on　my　wild　life　of　trading　and　hunting。

For　the　trading　I　never　cared　much；　as　may　be　guessed　from　the　little
that　ever　I　made　out　of　it；　the　art　of　traffic　being　in　truth　repugnant
to　me。　　But　hunting　was　always　the　breath　of　my　nostrilsnot　that　I　am
fond　of　killing　creatures；　for　any　humane　man　soon　wearies　of　slaughter。
　No；　it　is　the　excitement　of　sport；　which；　before　breechloaders　came　in；
was　acute　enough；　I　can　assure　you；　the　lonely　existence　in　wild　places；
often　with　only　the　sun　and　the　stars　for　companions；　the　continual
adventures；　the　strange　tribes　with　whom　I　came　in　contact；　in　short；
the　change；　the　danger；　the　hope　always　of　finding　something　great　and
new；　that　attracted　and　still　attracts　me；　even　now　when　I　_have_　found
the　great　and　the　new。　　There；　I　must　not　go　on　writing　like　this；　or　I
shall　throw　down　my　pen　and　book　a　passage　for　Africa；　and　incidentally
to　the　next　world；　no　doubtthat　world　of　the　great　and　new！


It　was；　I　think；　in　the　month　of　May　in　the　year　1854　that　I　went
hunting　in　rough　country　between　the　White　and　Black　Umvolosi　Rivers；　by
permission　of　Pandawhom　the　Boers　had　made　king　of　Zululand　after　the
defeat　and　death　of　Dingaan　his　brother。　　The　district　was　very
feverish；　and　for　this　reason　I　had　entered　it　in　the　winter　months。　
There　was　so　much　bush　that；　in　the　total　absence　of　roads；　I　thought　it
wise　not　to　attempt　to　bring　my　wagons　down；　and　as　no　horses　would　live
in　that　veld　I　went　on　foot。　　My　principal　companions　were　a　Kafir　of
mixed　origin；　called　Sikauli；　commonly　abbreviated　into　Scowl；　the　Zulu
chief　Saduko；　and　a　headman　of　the　Undwandwe　blood　named　Umbezi；　at
whose　kraal　on　the　high　land　about　thirty　miles　away　I　left　my　wagon　and
certain　of　my　men　in　charge　of　the　goods　and　some　ivory　that　I　had
traded。

This　Umbezi　was　a　stout　and　genial…mannered　man　of　about　sixty　years　of
age；　and；　what　is　rare　among　these　people；　one　who　loved　sport　for　its
own　sake。　　Being　aware　of　his　tastes；　also　that　he　knew　the　country　and
was　skilled　in　finding　game；　I　had　promised　him　a　gun　if　he　would
accompany　me　and　bring　a　few　hunters。　　It　was　a　particularly　bad　gun
that　had　seen　much　service；　and　one　which　had　an　unpleasing　habit　of
going　off　at　half…cock；　but　even　after　he　had　seen　it；　and　I　in　my
honesty　had　explained　its　weaknesses；　he　jumped　at　the　offer。

〃O　Macumazana〃　（that　is　my　native　name；　often　abbreviated　into
Macumazahn；　which　means　〃One　who　stands　out；〃　or　as　many　interpret　it；　I
don't　know　how；　〃Watcher…by…Night〃）〃a　gun　that　goes　off　sometimes　when
you　do　not　expect　it　is　much　better　than　no　gun　at　all；　and　you　are　a
chief　with　a　great　heart　to　promise　it　to　me；　for　when　I　own　the　White
Man's　weapon　I　shall　be　looked　up　to　and　feared　by　everyone　between　the
two　rivers。〃

Now；　while　he　was　speaking　he　handled　the　gun；　that　was　loaded；
observing　which　I　moved　behind　him。　　Off　it　went　in　due　course；　its
recoil　knocking　him　backwardsfor　that　gun　was　a　devil　to　kickand　its
bullet　cutting　the　top　off　the　ear　of　one　of　his　wives。　　The　lady　fled
screaming；　leaving　a　little　bit　of　her　ear　upon　the　ground。

〃What　does　it　matter？〃　said　Umbezi；　as　he　picked　himself　up；　rubbing　his
shoulder　with　a　rueful　look。　　〃Would　that　the　evil　spirit　in　the　gun　had
cut　off　her　tongue　and　not　her　ear！　　It　is　the　Worn…out…Old…Cow's　own
fault；　she　is　always　peeping　into　everything　like　a　monkey。　　Now　she
will　have　something　to　chatter　about　and　leave　my　things　alone　for
awhile。　　I　thank　my　ancestral　Spirit　it　was　not　Mameena；　for　then　her
looks　would　have　been　spoiled。〃

〃Who　is　Mameena？〃　I　asked。　　〃Your　last　wife？〃

〃No；　no；　Macumazahn；　I　wish　she　were；　for　then　I　should　have　the　most
beautiful　wife　in　the　land。　　She　is　my　daughter；　though　not　that　of　the
Worn…out…Old…Cow；　her　mother　died　when　she　was　born；　on　the　night　of　the
Great　Storm。　　You　should　ask　Saduko　there　who　Mameena　is；〃　he　added　with
a　broad　grin；　lifting　his　head　from　the　gun；　which　he　was　examining
gingerly；　as　though　he　thought　it　might　go　off　again　while　unloaded；　and
nodding　towards　someone　who　stood　behind　him。

I　turned；　and　for　the　first　time　saw　Saduko；　whom　I　recognised　at　once
as　a　person　quite　out　of　the　ordinary　run　of　natives。

He　was　a　tall　and　magnificently　formed　young　man；　who；　although　his
breast　was　scarred　with　assegai　wounds；　showing　that　he　was　a　warrior；
had　not　yet　attained　to　the　honour　of　the　〃ring〃　of　polished　wax　laid
over　strips　of　rush　bound　round　with　sinew　and　sewn