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Allan Quatermain-Part6_H.Rider Haggard(1856-1925)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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about four acres of ground that contained his private garden,

house, church, and outbuildings, and, indeed, the whole hilltop.



And what a garden it was! I have always loved a good garden,

and I could have thrown up my hands for joy when I saw Mr Mackenzie's.



First there were rows upon rows of standard European fruit-trees,

all grafted; for on top of this hill the climate was so temperate



that nearly all the English vegetables, trees, and flowers flourished

luxuriantly, even including several varieties of the apple, which,



generally, runs to wood in a warm climate and obstinately refuses

to fruit. Then there were strawberries and tomatoes (such tomatoes!),



and melons and cucumbers, and, indeed, every sort of vegetable

and fruit.



'Well, you have something like a garden!' I said, overpowered

with admiration not untouched by envy.



'Yes,' answered the missionary, 'it is a very good garden, and

has well repaid my labour; but it is the climate that I have



to thank. If you stick a peach-stone into the ground it will

bear fruit the fourth year, and a rose-cutting with bloom in



a year. It is a lovely clime.'

Just then we came to a ditch about ten feet wide, and full of



water, on the other side of which was a loopholed stone wall

eight feet high, and with sharp flints plentifully set in mortar



on the coping.

'There,' said Mr Mackenzie, pointing to the ditch and wall, 'this



is my magnum opus; at least, this and the church, which is the

other side of the house. It took me and twenty natives two years



to dig the ditch and build the wall, but I never felt safe till

it was done; and now I can defy all the savages in Africa, for



the spring that fills the ditch is inside the wall, and bubbles

out at the top of the hill winter and summer alike, and I always



keep a store of four months' provision in the house.'

Crossing over a plank and through a very narrow opening in the



wall, we entered into what Mrs Mackenzie called her domain --

namely, the flower garden, the beauty of which is really beyond



my power to describe. I do not think I ever saw such roses,

gardenias, or camellias (all reared from seeds or cuttings sent



from England); and there was also a patch given up to a collection

of bulbous roots mostly collected by Miss Flossie, Mr Mackenzie's



little daughter, from the surrounding country, some of which

were surpassingly beautiful. In the middle of this garden, and



exactly opposite the veranda, a beautiful fountain of clear water

bubbled up from the ground, and fell into a stone-work basin



which had been carefully built to receive it, whence the overflow

found its way by means of a drain to the moat round the outer



wall, this moat in its turn serving as a reservoir, whence an

unfailing supply of water was available to irrigate all the gardens



below. The house itself, a massively built single-storied building,

was roofed with slabs of stone, and had a handsome veranda in



front. It was built on three sides of a square, the fourth side

being taken up by the kitchens, which stood separate from the



house -- a very good plan in a hot country. In the centre of

this square thus formed was, perhaps, the most remarkable object



that we had yet seen in this charming place, and that was a single

tree of the conifer tribe, varieties of which grow freely on



the highlands of this part of Africa. This splendid tree, which

Mr Mackenzie informed us was a landmark for fifty miles round,



and which we had ourselves seen for the last forty miles of our

journey, must have been nearly three hundred feet in height,



the trunk measuring about sixteen feet in diameter at a yard

from the ground. For some seventy feet it rose a beautiful tapering



brown pillar without a single branch, but at that height splendid

dark green boughs, which, looked at from below, had the appearance



of gigantic fern-leaves, sprang out horizontally from the trunk,

projecting right over the house and flower-garden, to both of



which they furnished a gratefulproportion of shade, without

-- being so high up -- offering any impediment to the passage



of light and air.

'What a beautiful tree!' exclaimed Sir Henry.



'Yes, you are right; it is a beautiful tree. There is not another

like it in all the country round, that I know of,' answered Mr



Mackenzie. 'I call it my watch tower. As you see, I have a

rope ladder fixed to the lowest bough; and if I want to see anything



that is going on within fifteen miles or so, all I have to do




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