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Prester John-Part22_John Buchan(1875-1940)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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to go very slowly, and I was cold with apprehension. In the



middle it suddenly shallowed, and my breast came against a

mudshoal. I thought it was a crocodile, and in my confusion



the pistol dropped from my mouth and disappeared.

I waded a few steps and then plunged into deep water again.



Almost before I knew, I was among the bulrushes, with my

feet in the slime of the bank. With feverish haste I scrambled



through the reeds and up through roots and undergrowth to

the hard soil. I was across, but, alas, I had lost my only weapon.



The swim and the anxiety had tired me considerably, and

though it meant delay, I did not dare to continue with the



weight of water-logged clothes to impede me. I found a dry

sheltered place in the bush and stripped to the skin. I emptied



my boots and wrung out my shirt and breeches, while the

Prester's jewels were blazing on my neck. Here was a queer



counterpart to Laputa in the cave!

The change revived me, and I continued my way in better



form. So far there had been no sign of pursuit. Before me the

Letsitela was the only other stream, and from what I remembered



of its character near the Berg I thought I should have

little trouble. It was smaller than the Klein Letaba, and a



rushing torrent where shallows must be common.

I kept running till I felt my shirt getting dry on my back.



Then I restored the jewels to their old home, and found their

cool touch on my breast very comforting. The country was



getting more broken as I advanced. Little kopjes with thickets

of wild bananas took the place of the dead levels. Long before



I reached the Letsitela, I saw that I was right in my guess. It

ran, a brawling mountain stream, in a narrow rift in the bush.



I crossed it almost dry-shod on the boulders above a little fall,

stopping for a moment to drink and lave my brow.



After that the country changed again. The wood was now

getting like that which clothed the sides of the Berg. There



were tall timber-trees - yellowwood, sneezewood, essenwood,

stinkwood - and the ground was carpeted with thick grass



and ferns. The sight gave me my first earnest of safety. I was

approaching my own country. Behind me was heathendom



and the black fever flats. In front were the cool mountains and

bright streams, and the guns of my own folk.



As I struggled on - for I was getting very footsore and

weary - I became aware of an odd sound in my rear. It was as



if something were following me. I stopped and listened with a

sudden dread. Could Laputa's trackers have got up with me



already? But the sound was not of human feet. It was as if

some heavy animal were plunging through the undergrowth.



At intervals came the soft pad of its feet on the grass.

It must be the hungry lion of my nightmare, and Henriques'



pistol was in the mud of the Klein Letaba! The only thing was a

tree, and I had sprung for one and scrambled wearily into the



first branches when a great yellow animal came into the moonlight.

Providence had done kindly in robbing me of my pistol. The



next minute I was on the ground with Colin leaping on me and

baying with joy. I hugged that blessed hound and buried my



head in his shaggy neck, sobbing like a child. How he had

traced me I can never tell. The secret belongs only to the



Maker of good and faithful dogs.

With him by my side I was a new man. The awesome



loneliness had gone. I felt as if he were a message from my

own people to take me safely home. He clearly knew the



business afoot, for he padded beside me with never a glance to

right or left. Another time he would have been snowking in



every thicket; but now he was on duty, a serious, conscientious

dog with no eye but for business.



The moon went down, and the starry sky was our only light.

The thick gloom which brooded over the landscapepointed to



the night being far gone. I thought I saw a deeper blackness

ahead which might be the line of the Berg. Then came that



period of utter stillness when every bush sound is hushed and

the world seems to swoon. I felt almost impious hurrying



through that profound silence, when not even the leaves stirred

or a frog croaked.



Suddenly as we came over a rise a little wind blew on the

back of my head, and a bitter chill came into the air. I knew



from nights spent in the open that it was the precursor of

dawn. Sure enough, as I glanced back, far over the plain a pale



glow was stealing upwards into the sky. In a few minutes the




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