the research magnificent-第6部分

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　devil　it　does！〃　said　White；　roused　to　a　keener　attention。　〃By　no　feat　of　intention　can　we　achieve　courage　in　loneliness　so　long　as　we　feel　indeed　alone。　　An　isolated　man；　an　egoist；　an　Epicurean　man；　will　always　fail　himself　in　the　solitary　place。　There　must　be　something　more　with　us　to　sustain　us　against　this　vast　universe　than　the　spark　of　life　that　began　yesterday　and　must　be　extinguished　to…morrow。　　There　can　be　no　courage　beyond　social　courage；　the　sustaining　confidence　of　the　herd；　until　there　is　in　us　the　sense　of　God。　　But　God　is　a　word　that　covers　a　multitude　of　meanings。　　When　I　was　a　boy　I　was　a　passionate　atheist；　I　defied　God；　and　so　far　as　God　is　the　mere　sanction　of　social　traditions　and　pressures；　a　mere　dressing　up　of　the　crowd's　will　in　canonicals；　I　do　still　deny　him　and　repudiate　him。　　That　God　I　heard　of　first　from　my　nursemaid；　and　in　very　truth　he　is　the　proper　God　of　all　the　nursemaids　of　mankind。　　But　there　is　another　God　than　that　God　of　obedience；　God　the　immortal　adventurer　in　me；　God　who　calls　men　from　home　and　country；　God　scourged　and　crowned　with　thorns；　who　rose　in　a　nail…pierced　body　out　of　death　and　came　not　to　bring　peace　but　a　sword。〃　With　something　bordering　upon　intellectual　consternation；　White；　who　was　a　decent　self…respecting　sceptic；　read　these　last　clamberings　of　Benham's　spirit。　　They　were　written　in　pencil；　they　were　unfinished　when　he　died。　　（Surely　the　man　was　not　a　Christian！）　〃You　may　be　heedless　of　death　and　suffering　because　you　think　you　cannot　suffer　and　die；　or　you　may　be　heedless　of　death　and　pain　because　you　have　identified　your　life　with　the　honour　of　mankind　and　the　insatiable　adventurousness　of　man's　imagination；　so　that　the　possible　death　is　negligible　and　the　possible　achievement　altogether　outweighs　it。〃　。　。　。　White　shook　his　head　over　these　pencilled　fragments。　He　was　a　member　of　the　Rationalist　Press　Association；　and　he　had　always　taken　it　for　granted　that　Benham　was　an　orthodox　unbeliever。　But　this　was　hopelessly　unsound；　heresy；　perilous　stuff；　almost；　it　seemed　to　him；　a　posthumous　betrayal。　。　。　。

11

One　night　when　he　was　in　India　the　spirit　of　adventure　came　upon　Benham。　　He　had　gone　with　Kepple；　of　the　forestry　department；　into　the　jungle　country　in　the　hills　above　the　Tapti。　　He　had　been　very　anxious　to　see　something　of　that　aspect　of　Indian　life；　and　he　had　snatched　at　the　chance　Kepple　had　given　him。　　But　they　had　scarcely　started　before　the　expedition　was　brought　to　an　end　by　an　accident；　Kepple　was　thrown　by　a　pony　and　his　ankle　broken。　　He　and　Benham　bandaged　it　as　well　as　they　could；　and　a　litter　was　sent　for；　and　meanwhile　they　had　to　wait　in　the　camp　that　was　to　have　been　the　centre　of　their　jungle　raids。　　The　second　day　of　this　waiting　was　worse　for　Kepple　than　the　first；　and　he　suffered　much　from　the　pressure　of　this　amateurish　bandaging。　　In　the　evening　Benham　got　cool　water　from　the　well　and　rearranged　things　better；　the　two　men　dined　and　smoked　under　their　thatched　roof　beneath　the　big　banyan；　and　then　Kepple；　tired　out　by　his　day　of　pain；　was　carried　to　his　tent。　　Presently　he　fell　asleep　and　Benham　was　left　to　himself。　Now　that　the　heat　was　over　he　found　himself　quite　indisposed　to　sleep。　　He　felt　full　of　life　and　anxious　for　happenings。　He　went　back　and　sat　down　upon　the　iron　bedstead　beneath　the　banyan；　that　Kepple　had　lain　upon　through　the　day；　and　he　watched　the　soft　immensity　of　the　Indian　night　swallow　up　the　last　lingering　colours　of　the　world。　　It　left　the　outlines；　it　obliterated　nothing；　but　it　stripped　off　the　superficial　reality　of　things。　　The　moon　was　full　and　high　overhead；　and　the　light　had　not　so　much　gone　as　changed　from　definition　and　the　blazing　glitter　and　reflections　of　solidity　to　a　translucent　and　unsubstantial　clearness。　　The　jungle　that　bordered　the　little　encampment　north；　south；　and　west　seemed　to　have　crept　a　little　nearer；　enriched　itself　with　blackness；　taken　to　itself　voices。　（Surely　it　had　been　silent　during　the　day。）　A　warm；　faintly…scented　breeze　just　stirred　the　dead　grass　and　the　leaves。　　In　the　day　the　air　had　been　still。　Immediately　after　the　sunset　there　had　been　a　great　crying　of　peacocks　in　the　distance；　but　that　was　over　now；　the　crickets；　however；　were　still　noisy；　and　a　persistent　sound　had　become　predominant；　an　industrious　unmistakable　sound；　a　sound　that　took　his　mind　back　to　England；　in　midsummer。　　It　was　like　a　watchman's　rattlea　nightjar！　So　there　were　nightjars　here　in　India；　too！　　One　might　have　expected　something　less　familiar。　　And　then　came　another　cry　from　far　away　over　the　heat…stripped　tree…tops；　a　less　familiar　cry。　　It　was　repeated。　　Was　that　perhaps　some　craving　leopard；　a　tiger　cat；　a　panther？　〃HUNT；　HUNT〃；　that　might　be　a　deer。　Then　suddenly　an　angry　chattering　came　from　the　dark　trees　quite　close　at　hand。　　A　monkey？　。　。　。　These　great；　scarce　visible；　sweeping　movements　through　the　air　were　bats。　。　。　。　Of　course；　the　day　jungle　is　the　jungle　asleep。　　This　was　its　waking　hour。　　Now　the　deer　were　arising　from　their　forms；　the　bears　creeping　out　of　their　dens　amidst　the　rocks　and　blundering　down　the　gullies；　the　tigers　and　panthers　and　jungle　cats　stalking　noiselessly　from　their　lairs　in　the　grass。　　Countless　creatures　that　had　hidden　from　the　heat　and　pitiless　exposure　of　the　day　stood　now　awake　and　alertly　intent　upon　their　purposes；　grazed　or　sought　water；　flitting　delicately　through　the　moonlight　and　shadows。　　The　jungle　was　awakening。　　Again　Benham　heard　that　sound　like　the　belling　of　a　stag。　。　。　。　This　was　the　real　life　of　the　jungle；　this　night　life；　into　which　man　did　not　go。　　Here　he　was　on　the　verge　of　a　world　that　for　all　the　stuffed　trophies　of　the　sportsman　and　the　specimens　of　the　naturalist　is　still　almost　as　unknown　as　if　it　was　upon　another　planet。　　What　intruders　men　are；　what　foreigners　in　the　life　of　this　ancient　system！　He　looked　over　his　shoulder；　and　there　were　the　two　little　tents；　one　that　sheltered　Kepple　and　one　that　awaited　him；　and　beyond；　in　an　irregular　line；　glowed　the　ruddy　smoky　fires　of　the　men。　　One　or　two　turbaned　figures　still　flitted　about；　and　there　was　a　voice　low；　monotonousit　must　have　been　telling　a　tale。　　Further；　sighing　and　stirring　ever　and　again；　were　tethered　beasts；　and　then　a　great　pale　space　of　moonlight　and　the　clumsy　outlines　of　the　village　well。　The　clustering　village　itself　slept　in　darkness　beyond　the　mango　trees；　and　still　remoter　the　black　encircling　jungle　closed　in。　　One　might　have　fancied　this　was　the　encampment　of　newly…come　invaders；　were　it　not　for　the　larger　villages　that　are　overgrown　with　thickets　and　altogether　swallowed　up　again　in　the　wilderness；　and　for　the　deserted　temples　that　are　found　rent　asunder　by　the　roots　of　trees　and　the　ancient　embankments　that　hold　water　only　for　the　drinking　of　the　sambur　deer。　。　。　。　Benham　turned　his　face　to　the　dim　jungle　again。　。　。　。　He　had　come　far　out　of　his　way　to　visit　this　strange　world　of　the　ancient　life；　that　now　recedes　and　dwindles　before　our　new　civilization；　that　seems　fated　to　shrivel　up　and　pass　altogether　before　the　dry　advance　of　physical　science　and　material　organization。　　He　was　full　of　unsatisfied　curiosities　about　its　fierce　hungers　and　passions；　its　fears　and　cruelties；　its　instincts　and　its　well…nigh　incommunicable　and　yet　most　precious　understandings。　　He　had　long　ceased　to　believe　that　the　wild　beast　is　wholly　evil；　and　safety　and　plenty　the　ultimate　good　for　men。　。　。　。　Perhaps　he　would　never　get　nearer　to　this　mysterious　jungle　life　than　he　was　now。　It　was　intolerably　tantalizing　that　it　should　be　so　close　at　hand　and　so　inaccessible。　。　。　。　As　Benham　sat　brooding　over　his　disappointment　the　moon；　swimming　on　through　the　still　circle　of　the　hours；　passed　slowly　over　him。　　The　lights　and　shadows　about　him　changed　by　imperceptible　gradations　and　a　long　pale　alley　where　the　native　cart　track　drove　into　the　forest；　opened　slowly　out　of　the　darkness；　slowly　broadened；　slowly　lengthened。　　It　opened　out　to　him　with　a　quality　of　invitation。　。　。　。　There　was　the　jungle　before　him。　　Was　it　after　all　so　inaccessible？　〃Come！〃　the　road　said　to　him。　Benham　rose　and　walked　out　a　few　paces　into　the　moonlight　and　stood　motionless。　Was　he　afraid？　Even　now　some　hungry　watchful　monster　might　lurk　in　yonder　shadows；　watching　with　infinite　still　patience。　　Kepple　had　told　him　how　they　would　sit　still　for　hoursstaring　unblinkingly　as　cats　stare　at　a　fireand　then　crouch　to　advance。　　Beneath　the　shrill　overtone　of　the　nightjars；　what　noiseless　grey　shapes；　what　deep　breathings　and　cracklings　and　creepings　might　there　not　be？　。　。　。　Was　he　afraid？　That　question　determined　him　to　go。　He　hesitated　whether　he　should　take　a　gun。　　A　stick？　　A　gun；　he　knew；　was　a　dangerous　thing　to　an　inexperienced　man。　　No！　　He　would　go　now；　even　as　he　was　with　empty　hands。　　At　least　he　would　go　as　far　as　the　end　of　that　band　of　moonlight。　　If　for　no　other　reason　than　because　he　was　afraid。　　NOW！　For　a　moment　it　seemed　to　him　as　though　his　feet　were　too　heavy　to　lift　and　then；　hands　in　pockets；　khaki…clad；　an　almost　invisible　figure；　he　strolled　towards　the　cart…track。　Come　to　that；　he　halted　for　a　moment　to　regard　the　distant　fires　of　the　men。　　No　one　would　miss　him。　　They　would　think　he　was　in　his　tent。　　He　faced　the　stirring　quiet　ahead。　　The　cart…track　was　a　rutted　path　of　soft；　warm　sand；　on　which　he　went　almost　noiselessly。　A　bird　squabbled　for　an　instant　in　a　thicket。　　A　great　white　owl　floated　like　a　flake　of　moonlight　across　the　track　and　vanished　without　a　sound　among　the　trees。　Along　the　moonlit　path　went　Benham；　and　when　he　passed　near　trees　his　footsteps　became　noisy　with　the　rustle　and　crash　of　dead　leaves。　The　jungle　was　full　of　moonlight；　twigs；　branches；　creepers；　grass…　clumps　came　out　acutely　vivid。　　The　trees　and　bushes　stood　in　pools　of　darkness；　and　beyond　were　pale　stretches　of　misty　moonshine　and　big　rocks　shining　with　an　unearthly　lustre。　　Things　seemed　to　be　clear　and　yet　uncertain。　　It　was　as　if　they　dissolved　or　retired　a　little　and　then　returned　to　solidity。　A　sudden　chattering　broke　out　overhead；　and　black　across　the　great　stars　soared　a　flying　squirrel　and　caught　a　twig；　and　ran　for　shelter。　　A　second　hesitated　in　a　tree…top　and　pursued。　　They　chased　each　other　and　vanished　abruptly