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the house of pride and other tales of hawaii-第10部分

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inaccessible pockets beyond; the soldiers followed him。



For six weeks they hunted him from pocket to pocket; over the 

volcanic peaks and along the goat…trails。  When he hid in the 

lantana jungle; they formed lines of beaters; and through lantana 

jungle and guava scrub they drove him like a rabbit。  But ever he 

turned and doubled and eluded。  There was no cornering him。  When 

pressed too closely; his sure rifle held them back and they carried 

their wounded down the goat…trails to the beach。  There were times 

when they did the shooting as his brown body showed for a moment 

through the underbrush。  Once; five of them caught him on an exposed 

goat…trail between pockets。  They emptied their rifles at him as he 

limped and climbed along his dizzy way。  Afterwards they found 

bloodstains and knew that he was wounded。  At the end of six weeks 

they gave up。  The soldiers and police returned to Honolulu; and 

Kalalau Valley was left to him for his own; though head…hunters 

ventured after him from time to time and to their own undoing。



Two years later; and for the last time; Koolau crawled into a 

thicket and lay down among the ti…leaves and wild ginger blossoms。  

Free he had lived; and free he was dying。  A slight drizzle of rain 

began to fall; and he drew a ragged blanket about the distorted 

wreck of his limbs。  His body was covered with an oilskin coat。  

Across his chest he laid his Mauser rifle; lingering affectionately 

for a moment to wipe the dampness from the barrel。  The hand with 

which he wiped had no fingers left upon it with which to pull the 

trigger。



He closed his eyes; for; from the weakness in his body and the fuzzy 

turmoil in his brain; he knew that his end was near。  Like a wild 

animal he had crept into hiding to die。  Half…conscious; aimless and 

wandering; he lived back in his life to his early manhood on Niihau。  

As life faded and the drip of the rain grew dim in his ears it 

seemed to him that he was once more in the thick of the horse…

breaking; with raw colts rearing and bucking under him; his stirrups 

tied together beneath; or charging madly about the breaking corral 

and driving the helping cowboys over the rails。  The next instant; 

and with seeming naturalness; he found himself pursuing the wild 

bulls of the upland pastures; roping them and leading them down to 

the valleys。  Again the sweat and dust of the branding pen stung his 

eyes and bit his nostrils。



All his lusty; whole…bodied youth was his; until the sharp pangs of 

impending dissolution brought him back。  He lifted his monstrous 

hands and gazed at them in wonder。  But how?  Why?  Why should the 

wholeness of that wild youth of his change to this?  Then he 

remembered; and once again; and for a moment; he was Koolau; the 

leper。  His eyelids fluttered wearily down and the drip of the rain 

ceased in his ears。  A prolonged trembling set up in his body。  

This; too; ceased。  He half…lifted his head; but it fell back。  Then 

his eyes opened; and did not close。  His last thought was of his 

Mauser; and he pressed it against his chest with his folded; 

fingerless hands。







GOOD…BYE; JACK







Hawaii is a queer place。  Everything socially is what I may call 

topsy…turvy。  Not but what things are correct。  They are almost too 

much so。  But still things are sort of upside down。  The most ultra…

exclusive set there is the 〃Missionary Crowd。〃  It comes with rather 

a shock to learn that in Hawaii the obscure martyrdom…seeking 

missionary sits at the head of the table of the moneyed aristocracy。  

But it is true。  The humble New Englanders who came out in the third 

decade of the nineteenth century; came for the lofty purpose of 

teaching the kanakas the true religion; the worship of the one only 

genuine and undeniable God。  So well did they succeed in this; and 

also in civilizing the kanaka; that by the second or third 

generation he was practically extinct。  This being the fruit of the 

seed of the Gospel; the fruit of the seed of the missionaries (the 

sons and the grandsons) was the possession of the islands 

themselves;of the land; the ports; the town sites; and the sugar 

plantations:  The missionary who came to give the bread of life 

remained to gobble up the whole heathen feast。



But that is not the Hawaiian queerness I started out to tell。  Only 

one cannot speak of things Hawaiian without mentioning the 

missionaries。  There is Jack Kersdale; the man I wanted to tell 

about; he came of missionary stock。  That is; on his grandmother's 

side。  His grandfather was old Benjamin Kersdale; a Yankee trader; 

who got his start for a million in the old days by selling cheap 

whiskey and square…face gin。  There's another queer thing。  The old 

missionaries and old traders were mortal enemies。  You see; their 

interests conflicted。  But their children made it up by 

intermarrying and dividing the island between them。



Life in Hawaii is a song。  That's the way Stoddard put it in his 

〃Hawaii Noi〃:…





〃Thy life is musicFate the notes prolong!

Each isle a stanza; and the whole a song。〃





And he was right。  Flesh is golden there。  The native women are sun…

ripe Junos; the native men bronzed Apollos。  They sing; and dance; 

and all are flower…bejewelled and flower…crowned。  And; outside the 

rigid 〃Missionary Crowd;〃 the white men yield to the climate and the 

sun; and no matter how busy they may be; are prone to dance and sing 

and wear flowers behind their ears and in their hair。  Jack Kersdale 

was one of these fellows。  He was one of the busiest men I ever met。  

He was a several…times millionaire。  He was a sugar…king; a coffee 

planter; a rubber pioneer; a cattle rancher; and a promoter of three 

out of every four new enterprises launched in the islands。  He was a 

society man; a club man; a yachtsman; a bachelor; and withal as 

handsome a man as was ever doted upon by mammas with marriageable 

daughters。  Incidentally; he had finished his education at Yale; and 

his head was crammed fuller with vital statistics and scholarly 

information concerning Hawaii Nei than any other islander I ever 

encountered。  He turned off an immense amount of work; and he sang 

and danced and put flowers in his hair as immensely as any of the 

idlers。

 

  He had grit; and had fought two duelsboth; politicalwhen he 

was no more than a raw youth essaying his first adventures in 

politics。  In fact; he played a most creditable and courageous part 

in the last revolution; when the native dynasty was overthrown; and 

he could not have been over sixteen at the time。  I am pointing out 

that he was no coward; in order that you may appreciate what happens 

later on。  I've seen him in the breaking yard at the Haleakala 

Ranch; conquering a four…year…old brute that for two years had 

defied the pick of Von Tempsky's cow…boys。  And I must tell of one 

other thing。  It was down in Kona;or up; rather; fo
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