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Adventure-Part30_JACK LONDON(1876-1916)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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than shapeless logs swathed in rotten and indescribably filthy

matting. The air was mouldy and heavy with decay, while strings of



fish-tails and of half-cleaned dog and crocodile skulls did not add

to the wholesomeness of the place.



In the centre, crouched before a slow-smoking fire, in the littered

ashes of a thousand fires, was an old man who blinked apathetically



at the invaders. He was extremely old--so old that his withered

skin hung about him in loose folds and did not look like skin. His



hands were bony claws, his emaciated face a sheer death's-head.

His task, it seemed, was to tend the fire, and while he blinked at



them he added to it a handful of dead and mouldy wood. And hung in

the smoke they found the object of their search. Joan turned and



stumbled out hastily, deathly sick, reeling into the sunshine and

clutching at the air for support.



"See if all are there," she called back faintly, and tottered

aimlessly on for a few steps, breathing the air in great draughts



and trying to forget the sight she had seen.

Upon Sheldon fell the unpleasant task of tallying the heads. They



were all there, nine of them, white men's heads, the faces of which

he had been familiar with when their owners had camped in Berande



compound and set up the poling-boats. Binu Charley, hugely

interested, lent a hand, turning the heads around for



identification, noting the hatchet-strokes, and remarking the

distorted expressions. The Poonga-Poonga men gloated as usual, and



as usual the Tahitians were shocked and angry, several of them

cursing and muttering in undertones. So angry was Matapuu, that he



strode suddenly over to the fire-tender and kicked him in the ribs,

whereupon the old savage emitted an appallingsqueal, pig-like in



its wild-animal fear, and fell face downward in the ashes and lay

quivering in momentaryexpectation of death.



Other heads, thoroughly sun-dried and smoke-cured, were found in

abundance, but, with two exceptions, they were the heads of blacks.



So this was the manner of hunting that went on in the dark and evil

forest, Sheldon thought, as he regarded them. The atmosphere of



the place was sickening, yet he could not forbear to pause before

one of Binu Charley's finds.



"Me savvee black Mary, me savvee white Mary," quoth Binu Charley.

"Me no savvee that fella Mary. What name belong him?"



Sheldon looked. Ancient and withered, blackened by many years of

the smoke of the devil-devil house, nevertheless the shrunken,



mummy-like face was unmistakably Chinese. How it had come there

was the mystery. It was a woman's head, and he had never heard of



a Chinese woman in the history of the Solomons. From the ears hung

two-inch-long ear-rings, and at Sheldon's direction the Binu man



rubbed away the accretions of smoke and dirt, and from under his

fingers appeared the polished green of jade, the sheen of pearl,



and the warm red of Oriental gold. The other head, equally

ancient, was a white man's, as the heavy blond moustache, twisted



and askew on the shrivelled upper lip, gave sufficient

advertisement; and Sheldon wondered what forgotten beche-de-mer



fisherman or sandalwood trader had gone to furnish that ghastly

trophy.



Telling Binu Charley to remove the ear-rings, and directing the

Poonga-Poonga men to carry out the old fire-tender, Sheldon cleared



the devil-devil house and set fire to it. Soon every house was

blazing merrily, while the ancient fire-tender sat upright in the



sunshine blinking at the destruction of his village. From the

heights above, where were evidently other villages, came the



booming of drums and a wild blowing of war-conchs; but Sheldon had

dared all he cared to with his small following. Besides, his



mission was accomplished. Every member of Tudor's expedition was

accounted for; and it was a long, dark way out of the head-hunters'



country. Releasing their two prisoners, who leaped away like

startled deer, they plunged down the steep path into the steaming



jungle.

Joan, still shocked by what she had seen, walked on in front of



Sheldon, subdued and silent. At the end of half an hour she turned

to him with a wan smile and said, -



"I don't think I care to visit the head-hunters any more. It's

adventure, I know; but there is such a thing as having too much of



a good thing. Riding around the plantation will henceforth be good




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