the story of an african farm-第67部分

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till　the　boy　came　to　wake　me　to　inspan；　and　then　we　drove　on　again　all

night；　so　it　went；　so　it　went。　　I　think　sometimes　when　I　walked　by　my　oxen

I　called　to　them　in　my　sleep；　for　I　know　I　thought　of　nothing；　I　was　like

an　animal。　　My　body　was　strong　and　well　to　work；　but　my　brain　was　dead。　　If

you　have　not　felt　it；　Lyndall；　you　cannot　understand　it。　　You　may　work；　and

work；　and　work；　till　you　are　only　a　body；　not　a　soul。　　Now；　when　I　see　one

of　those　evil…looking　men　that　come　from　Europenavvies；　with　the　beast…

like；　sunken　face；　different　from　any　Kaffer'sI　know　what　brought　that

look　into　their　eyes；　and　if　I　have　only　one　inch　of　tobacco　I　give　them

half。　　It　is　work；　grinding；　mechanical　work；　that　they　or　their　ancestors

have　done；　that　has　made　them　into　beasts。　　You　may　work　a　man's　body　so

that　his　soul　dies。　　Work　is　good。　　I　have　worked　at　the　old　farm　from　the

sun's　rising　till　its　setting；　but　I　have　had　time　to　think；　and　time　to

feel。　　You　may　work　a　man　so　that　all　but　the　animal　in　him　is　gone；　and

that　grows　stronger　with　physical　labour。



〃You　may　work　a　man　till　he　is　a　devil。　　I　know　it；　because　I　have　felt　it。

You　will　never　understand　the　change　that　came　over　me。　　No　one　but　I　will

ever　know　how　great　it　was。　　But　I　was　never　miserable；　when　I　could　keep

my　oxen　from　sticking　fast；　and　when　I　could　find　a　place　to　lie　down　in；　I

had　all　I　wanted。　　After　I　had　driven　eight　months　a　rainy　season　came。　

For　eighteen　hours　out　of　the　twenty…four　we　worked　in　the　wet。　　The　mud

went　up　to　the　axles　sometimes；　and　we　had　to　dig　the　wheels　out；　and　we

never　went　far　in　a　day。　　My　master　swore　at　me　more　than　ever；　but　when　he

had　done　he　always　offered　me　his　brandy…flask。　　When　I　first　came　he　had

offered　it　me；　and　I　had　always　refused；　but　now　I　drank　as　my　oxen　did

when　I　gave　them　waterwithout　thinking。　　At　last　I　bought　brandy　for

myself　whenever　we　passed　an　hotel。



〃One　Sunday　we　outspanned　on　the　banks　of　a　swollen　river　to　wait　for　its

going　down。　　It　was　drizzling　still；　so　I　lay　under　the　wagon　on　the　mud。　

There　was　no　dry　place　anywhere；　and　all　the　dung　was　wet；　so　there　was　no

fire　to　cook　food。　　My　little　flask　was　filled　with　brandy；　and　I　drank

some　and　went　to　sleep。　　When　I　woke　it　was　drizzling　still；　so　I　drank

some　more。　　I　was　stiff　and　cold；　and　my　master；　who　lay　by　me；　offered　me

his　flask；　because　mine　was　empty。　　I　drank　some；　and　then　I　thought　I

would　go　and　see　if　the　river　was　going　down。　　I　remember　that　I　walked　to

the　road；　and　it　seemed　to　be　going　away　from　me。　　When　I　woke　up　I　was

lying　by　a　little　bush　on　the　bank　of　the　river。　　It　was　afternoon；　all　the

clouds　had　gone；　and　the　sky　was　deep　blue。　　The　Bushman　boy　was　grilling

ribs　at　the　fire。　　He　looked　at　me　and　grinned　from　ear　to　ear。　　'Master

was　a　little　nice；'　he　said；　'and　lay　down　in　the　road。　　Something　might

ride　over　master；　so　I　carried　him　there。'　　He　grinned　at　me　again。　　It　was

as　though　he　said；　'You　and　I　are　comrades。　　I　have　lain　in　a　road；　too。　　I

know　all　about　it。'



〃When　I　turned　my　head　from　him　I　saw　the　earth；　so　pure　after　the　rain；　so

green；　so　fresh；　so　blue；　and　I　was　a　drunken　carrier；　whom　his　leader　had

picked　up　in　the　mud；　and　laid　at　the　roadside　to　sleep　out　his　drink。　　I

remember　my　old　life；　and　I　remember　you。　　I　saw　how；　one　day；　you　would

read　in　the　papers：　　'A　German　carrier；　named　Waldo　Farber；　was　killed

through　falling　from　his　wagon；　being　instantly　crushed　under　the　wheel。　

Deceased　was　supposed　to　have　been　drunk　at　the　time　of　the　accident。'　

There　are　those　notices　in　the　paper　every　month。　　I　sat　up；　and　I　took　the

brandy…flask　out　of　my　pocket；　and　I　flung　it　as　far　as　I　could　into　the

dark　water。　　The　Hottentot　boy　ran　down　to　see　if　he　could　catch　it；　it　had

sunk　to　the　bottom。　　I　never　drank　again。　　But；　Lyndall；　sin　looks　much

more　terrible　to　those　who　look　at　it　than　to　those　who　do　it。　　A　convict；

or　a　man　who　drinks；　seems　something　so　far　off　and　horrible　when　we　see

him；　but　to　himself　he　seems　quite　near　to　us；　and　like　us。　　We　wonder　what

kind　of　a　creature　he　is；　but　he　is　just　we；　ourselves。　　We　are　only　the

wood；　the　knife　that　carves　on　us　is　the　circumstance。



〃I　do　not　know　why　I　kept　on　working　so　hard　for　that　master。　　I　think　it

was　as　the　oxen　come　every　day　and　stand　by　the　yokes；　they　do　not　know

why。　　Perhaps　I　would　have　been　with　him　still；　but　one　day　we　started　with

loads　for　the　Diamond　Fields。　　The　oxen　were　very　thin　now；　and　they　had

been　standing　about　in　the　yoke　all　day　without　food；　while　the　wagons　were

being　loaded。　　Not　far　from　the　town　was　a　hill。　　When　we　came　to　the　foot

the　first　wagon　stuck　fast。　　I　tried　for　a　little　while　to　urge　the　oxen；

but　I　soon　saw　the　one　span　could　never　pull　it　up。　　I　went　to　the　other

wagon　to　loosen　that　span　to　join　them　on　in　front；　but　the　transport…

rider；　who　was　lying　at　the　back　of　the　wagon；　jumped　out。



〃'They　shall　bring　it　up　the　hill；　and　if　half　of　them　die　for　it　they

shall　do　it　alone；'　he　said。



〃He　was　not　drunk；　but　in　bad　temper；　for　he　had　been　drunk　the　night

before。　　He　swore　at　me；　and　told　me　to　take　the　whip　and　help　him。　　We

tried　for　a　little　time；　then　I　told　him　it　was　no　use；　they　could　never　do

it。　　He　swore　louder　and　called　to　the　leaders　to　come　on　with　their　whips；

and　together　they　lashed。　　There　was　one　ox；　a　black　ox；　so　thin　that　the

ridge　of　his　backbone　almost　cut　through　his　flesh。



〃'It　is　you；　devil；　is　it；　that　will　not　pull？'　the　transport…rider　said。　

'I　will　show　you　something。'　　He　looked　like　a　devil。



〃He　told　the　boys　to　leave　off　flogging；　and　he　held　the　ox　by　the　horn；

and　took　up　a　round　stone　and　knocked　its　nose　with　it　till　the　blood　came。

When　he　had　done　they　called　to　the　oxen　and　took　up　their　whips　again；　and

the　oxen　strained　with　their　backs　bent；　but　the　wagon　did　not　move　an

inch。



〃'So　you　won't；　won't　you？'　he　said。　　I'll　help　you。'



〃He　took　out　his　clasp…knife；　and　ran　it　into　the　leg　of　the　trembling　ox

three　times；　up　to　the　hilt。　　Then　he　put　the　knife　in　his　pocket；　and　they

took　their　whips。　　The　oxen's　flanks　quivered；　and　they　foamed　at　the

mouth。　　Straining；　they　moved　the　wagon　a　few　feet　forward；　then　stood　with

bent　backs　to　keep　it　from　sliding　back。　　From　the　black　ox's　nostrils　foam

and　blood　were　streaming　on　to　the　ground。　　It　turned　its　head　in　its

anguish　and　looked　at　me　with　its　great　starting　eyes。　　It　was　praying　for

help　in　its　agony　and　weakness；　and　they　took　their　whips　again。　　The

creature　bellowed　aloud。　　If　there　is　a　God；　it　was　calling　to　its　Maker

for　help。　　Then　a　stream　of　clear　blood　burst　from　both　nostrils；　it　fell

on　to　the　ground；　and　the　wagon　slipped　back。　　The　man　walked　up　to　it。



〃'You　are　going　to　lie　down；　devil；　are　you？　　We'll　see　you　don't　take　it

too　easy。'



〃The　thing　was　just　dying。　　He　opened　his　clasp…knife　and　stooped　down　over

it。　　I　do　no