the days of my life-第43部分

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charge　were　too　heavy　to　carry；　and；　before　men　could　be　found　to　assist　him；　they　would　have　been　secured　by　the　robbers；　who　knew　well　where　to　look　for　them。　In　the　rare　event；　however；　of　the　supply　of　personal　pluck　proving　equal　to　such　an　occasion；　how　many　of　us；　for　the　reasons　given；　having　a　well…armed　white　panion　at　hand；　would　have　neglected　to　summon　him　to　take　his　part　in　the　fray？　A　man　must　be　very　brave　and　very　unselfish　indeed　to　choose　to　face　a　band　of　Mexican　cut…throats　when　a　word　would　bring　a　rade　to　his　side。
I　may　add　that　his　conduct　was　foolish　as　well　as　unselfish；　since　in　such　a　business　two　can　fire　quicker　than　one。　Also　the　sound　of　his　first　shot　would　of　course　have　wakened　me　with　the　result　that　I　should　have　rushed；　bewildered　and　unprepared；　into　the　fray　and　probably　have　been　cut　down　before　I　understood　the　situation。
However；　as　it　happened；　we　escaped；　thanks　to　that　noble　animal；　the　dog。　So　did　the　cold…blooded　villains　who　had　planned　our　murder　in　order　to　enrich　themselves。
What　a　land　of　bloodshed　Mexico　has　been；　is　still；　in　this　year　of　revolution；　and　some　prophetic　spirit　tempts　me　to　add；　shall　be！　The　curse　of　the　bloody　Aztec　gods　seems　to　rest　upon　its　head。　There；　from　generation　to　generation；　blood　calls　for　blood。　And　yet；　if　only　it　were　inhabited　by　some　righteous　race；　what　a　land　it　might　be　with　its　richness　and　its　beauty！　For　my　part；　I　believe　that　it　would　be　well　for　it　if　it　should　pass　into　the　power　of　the　United　States。
From　this　place　of　a　forgotten　name　we　proceeded　to　the　mine　on　mules。　It　was　a　fearful　journey；　but　how　long　it　took　to　acplish　I　cannot　remember。　For　the　first　part　of　it　the　road；　if　it　could　be　called　a　road；　consisted　of　a　kind　of　corduroy　of　little　ridges　with　mud…holes　of　from　one　to　three　feet　deep　between　them；　which　had　been　gradually　hollowed　out　by　the　feet　of　mules；　the　ridges　being　those　portions　of　the　ground　on　which　these　did　not　tread。　As　heavy　rains　had　fallen　and；　indeed；　were　still　falling；　the　pleasures　of　such　a　ride　may　well　be　imagined。　Once　we　stopped　at　a　hacienda　where　there　was　a　cocoa　plantation　that　I　was　told　produced　a　great　deal　of　money　in　that　fertile　soil。　I　shall　never　forget　the　place；　or　at　least　the　impression　it　produced　upon　me。　In　a　long　low　room　a　fat　half…breed；　its　owner；　was　swinging　in　a　hammock；　or　rather　being　swung　by　Indian　girls。　Terrible　stories　were　told　of　such　men　and　their　poor　Indian　slaves　in　these　remote　places；　for　in　practice　slaves　they　still　remained；　especially　with　reference　to　young　women　who　grew　up　upon　their　estates。　Whether　things　have　bettered　since　that　day　I　do　not　know；　but；　if　certain　works　that　I　have　read　are　true；　I　gather　that　in　such　matters　they　remain　much　the　same　as　they　were　two　hundred　years　ago。
After　the　corduroy　road　plains　we　passed　into　the　mountains　where；　by　the　hollowing　action　of　water；　the　tracks　had　been　reduced　to　a　kind　of　ditch　floored　with　a　butter　of　red　clay。　Here　there　were　precipices；　along　the　edges　of　which　we　ambled。　One　spot　remains　firmly　fixed　upon　my　mind。　The　path　along　the　precipice　had　been　broken　away　and　a　new　one　made　a　little　further　up　the　hillside。　When　we　reached　the　place　I　tried　to　turn　my　mule　to　this　upper　path。　But　the　wooden…mouthed　brute　was　of　a　different　opinion。　Baggage　mules；　I　should　explain；　always　prefer　the　edge　of　a　precipice；　because　their　burdens　are　less　likely　to　be　knocked　by　projecting　rocks　or　other　mules。　Therefore；　this　beast　that　I　rode　insisted　upon　taking　the　lower　path。　The　natural　result　followed：　we　began　to　descend　the　red　butter　slide　with　great　rapidity。　There　was　neither　time　nor　room　to　dismount。　All　appeared　to　be　over；　since　a　few　yards　in　front；　the　path　having；　as　I　said；　been　washed　away；　was　empty　space。　However；　just　in　time；　the　mule　itself　awoke　to　the　situation。　I　presume　that　its　inherited　experience　told　it　that　to　be　dashed　to　pieces　is　not　agreeable。　At　any　rate　it　put　on　some　kind　of　vacuum　brake　of　its　own；　with　the　result　that　we　pulled　up　at　the　extremest　edge　of　nothingness；　indeed；　it　seemed　to　me　that　when　our　slide　came　to　its　end　all　the　creature’s　four　feet　were　gathered　in　a　round　that　might　have　been　covered　by　a　Mexican　priest’s　hat。　Afterwards　that　same　mule；　the　most　inpetent　surely　of　all　its　kind；　fell　with　me　in　the　midst　of　a　flooded　river。
Another　such　river　we　were　obliged　to　cross　seated　in　a　loop　of　string　which　was　slung　upon　a　rope；　quite　an　exciting　mode　of　progression。　Upon　the　occasion　of　Mr。　Jebb’s　previous　visit　to　this　mine　either　the　loop　or　the　rope　broke；　and　the　cook　who　was　making　the　journey　went　to　a　watery　grave。
We　slept　a　night　in　a　saw…mill　that　had　been　established　by　the　mining　pany　upon　the　banks　of　a　great　river。　I　remember　that　at　dawn　I　went　to　bathe　in　this　river；　and　was　struck　with　the　marvellous　beauty　of　the　scene。　The　face　of　the　water　was　covered　with　clouds　of　floating　mist；　while　above；　rising　in　tiers　from　the　steep　banks　of　the　river；　appeared　the　motionless；　solemn　trees。　And　then　the　indescribable　silence　and　the　utter　loneliness。　The　great　primeval　forest　beyond　this　river　was　very　wonderful；　at　any　rate　to　me　who　had　never　seen　its　like。　Here　grew　vast　trees　with　rib…like　roots　that　ran　far　up　the　trunk；　and　between　the　trees　imperable　thickets　of　Indian　Shot　—　Canna；　I　think；　is　the　right　name　—　twenty　feet　and　more　in　height。　When　the　Indians　wish　to　grow　a　crop　of　maize　they　burn　a　patch　of　this　Canna　scrub　and　sow　the　seed　in　the　rich　ash…fertilised　soil；　where　it　bears　abundantly。
These　Indians　of　remoter　Mexico　are　strange；　sad　creatures　whose　demeanour　suggests　that　the　woes　and　wickedness　heaped　upon　their　forefathers　by　the　cruel　Spaniards　have　never　faded　from　the　minds　of　the　descendants。　In　body　they　are　handsome　and　often　stately；　but　their　souls　seem　crushed。　Now　they；　whose　race　once　was　free　and　great；　as　the　mighty　ruins　show；　are　but　hewers　of　wood　and　drawers　of　water　whom　the　white　man　kills　if　they　venture　to　cross　his　desire。　On　the　narrow　mountain　paths　or　in　the　depths　of　the　vast　forests　the　traveller　meets　them　toiling　forward　under　the　weight　of　some　tremendous　load。　Humbly　the　poor　creatures；　in　whose　veins　perhaps　flows　the　blood　of　Montezuma；　draw　aside　and　stand　resting　on　their　long　sticks　while　the　white　lords　pass。　Then　once　more　they　begin　their　patient　journeyings。
By　the　way；　I　saw　a　very　curious　“mackintosh”　in　use　among　these　Chiapas　Indians。　It　consisted　of　two　huge　leaves；　I　suppose　of　some　water　plant；　which　were　fastened　together　at　the　base；　leaving　a　hole　for　the　wearer’s　head。　These　leaves；　thus　arranged；　hung　to　below　the　middle　before　and　behind；　and　were　impermeable　even　to　the　tropical　Mexican　rain。　A　long　line　of　men　clad　in　them　presented　the　strangest　of　sights。
We　arrived　at　the　mine　at　last；　and　spent　some　days　there。　It　was　in　the　charge　of　an　English　gentleman　whose　name　I　am　sorry　to　say　I　have　quite　forgotten；　but　who　received　us　with　much　kindness。　He　had　built　himself；　or　the　pany　had　built　for　him；　a　long　low　house　with　a　verandah　and　some　spare　rooms；　in　one　of　which　I　slept。　After　the　mosquito…haunted　canoe　and　our　nocturnal　habitations；　that　clean　little　room　seemed　an　almost　celestial　abode。　Tarantulas　were　very　plentiful　about　the　house　and；　going　to　bed　one　night；　I　perceived　a　specimen　of　inconceivable　size　—　really　it　looked　as　large　as　a　plate　—　sitting　on　the　ceiling　immediately　above　my　head；　and　shouted　for　assistance。　My　host　arrived　and；　after　inspection　of　the　monster；　exclaimed：　“For　goodness’　sake　don’t　touch　it！　That　isn’t　a　tarantula；　that’s　the　chap　who　lives　upon　tarantulas！”　I　accepted　the　explanation；　but　asked　him　to　be　good　enough　to　remove　this　household　god　to　his　own　room。
While　Jebb　was　engaged　in　the　affairs　of　the　mine　I　wandered　about　the　beautiful　valley　in　which　it　was　situated；　collecting　plants　and　ferns。　The　vegetation　here　was　truly　wonderful；　while　palms　and　other　trees；　covered　with　ferns　and　orchids　to　their　crowns；　presented　a　lovely　sight。　Only；　because　of　the　snakes　which　were　said　to　abound；　it　was　necessary　to　be　very　careful　in　gathering　these　floral　treasures。　With　much　difficulty　I　succeeded　in　bringing　a　sackload　of　roots　to　England；　and　in　the　greenhouses　here　still　survive　some　of　the　plants　I　collected　in　Mexico；　though　certain　of　the　ferns　grew　so　enormous　that　they　had　to　be　given　away。　I　lost　that　sack　on　an　American　train；　and　was　told　by　the　conductor　to　go　and　look　for　it　in　a　very　insufficiently　lighted　van；　where　presently　I　came　to　grief　over　some　hard　object。　It　proved　to　be　a　coffined　corpse　which　was　being　“mailed”　from　one　part　of　the　States　to　another。
Our　return　journey　to　Frontera　was　quite　as　arduous　as　that　of　which　I　have　spoken；　but　in　the　end　we　arrived　without　having　contracted　fever　or　met　with　any　serious　mishap。　Here；　however；　we　fell　victims　to　Mexican　guile。　The　American　steamer；　with　our　wives　and　luggage　on　board；　was　due　to　call　on　the　following　day；　but　some　rascal　at　Frontera　who　was　agent　for　the　line；　and　also　owned　a　tub　that　plied　between　that　port　and　Vera　Cruz；　informed　us　that　this　she　would　not　do　because　of　a　“norther”　that　was　ing　up。　Now　a　“norther”　is　a　very　terrible　gale　which　blows　for　days　at　a　time　in　the　Gulf　of　Mexico；　making　it　impossible　for　even　the　finest　ship　to　approach　certain　of　the　ports；　and　the　agent　swore　that　his　telegraphic　information　as　to　its　arrival　was　correct。　This；　of　course；　meant　that　we　might　look　forward　to；　I　think；　another　fortnight　of　the　pleasures　of　Frontera。
However；　the　agent　was　ready　with　a　remedy。　The　tub　I　have　mentioned　was　sailing　for　Vera　Cruz　at　once。　It　would；　he　said；　get　there　before　the　liner　left；　or；　if　not；　it　would　signal　to　the　liner　to　stop　and　take　us　aboard。　Only　we　must　make　up　our　minds　instantly　—　within　five　minutes。　We　fell　into　the　trap；　paid　an　expensive　fare；　and　steamed　off　in　that　dreadful　ship。　During　the　night　we　sighted　the　American　liner　with　our　wives　on　board；　making　straight　for　Frontera！　To　municate　with　her　was　impossible；　indeed；　once　he　had　us　safe　at　sea　the　captain　laughed　at　the　idea。　On　the　following　morning　the　ladies　arrived　at　Frontera；　where　they　expected　to　meet　us；　but　were　told　by　the　consummate　villain　of　an　agent　who　had　shipped　us　off　in　his　own　boat　on　the　previous　day；　that　no　Englishmen　answering　to　our　description　had　been　even　heard　of　at　Frontera。　So　they　were　forced　to　proceed　upon　their　journey　in　a　state　of　some　anxiety。
We　also　had　anxieties；　for　the　machinery　of　our　tub　broke　down。　There　for　one　whole　night　we　rolled　about　off　the　coast　of　Mexico；　sleeping；　or　rather　sitting；　on　the　coils　of　rope　upon　the　deck　and　waiting　for　the　promised　“norther”　which　now　showed　every　sign　of　arrival。　Fortunately；　however；　it　did　not　develop　until　later；　for；　had　it　done　so；　our　ship　in　its　disabled　condition　would　in　all　probability　have　gone　to　the　bottom。　By　the　following　morning　the　engines　were　more　or　less　patched　up；　and　we　crept　into　Vera　Cruz　with　no　baggage　except　the　travel…stained　garments　in　which　we　stood　and　the　sack　of　fern　roots　whereof　I　have　spoken；　for　such　spare　clothes　as　we　possessed　had　been　left　behind。
The　end　of　it　was　that　we　journeyed　back　to　the　City　of　Mexico；　a　place　that　I　had　hoped　never　to　see　again；　where　we　bought　a　few　necessaries　and　took　the　train　to　New　York。
After　five　days　of　arduous　travel；　during　which　I　suffered　much　from　headache；　we　reached　that　city　to　find　that　our　womenkind　had　also　arrived　there　safely。　Two　or　three　things　remain　impressed　upon　my　mind　in　connection　with　this　long　train　journey。　One　is　the　sad　and　desolate　aspect　of　the　sandy　wildernesses　of　Upper　Mexico；　dotted　here　and　there　with　tall　cacti；　as　these　appeared　in　the　light　of　the　full　moon。　Another　is　the　sight　of　a　small　herd　of　bison　which　we　passed　on　the　great　plains　of　Texas；　I　suppose　among　the　last　that　were　left　in　that　country。　These　I　am　very　glad　to　have　seen　in　their　wild　state。　The　third　is　the　view　of　Niagara　as　we　saw　it　in　one　wintry　dawn。　The　train　pulled　up　to　allow　us　to　inspect　the　Falls；　and　for　a　while　we　stood　almost　on　the　brink　of　the　cataract　watching　the　great　ice　boulders　thunder　to　the　depths　below。　It　was　a　mighty　and　majestic　scene；　which　the　loneliness　of　the　hour　did　much　to　enhance。
From　New　York　we　took　ship　for　Liverpool；　where　we　arrived　without　accident　in　due　course。　I　was　not　well　at　the　time；　having　again　been　attacked　by　influenza　on　the　voyage。　Needless　to　say；　our　homeing　was　very　sad。　After；　I　think；　only　one　night　in　London　we　came　to　Ditchingham；　where　I　found　my　two　little　girls　dressed　in　black　and　—　a　grave。
Chapter　15　ANDREW　LANG
Death　of　Andrew　Lang　—　Recent　letters　from　him　—　Suggested　further　collaboration　—　Lecture　tour　in　S。　Africa　proposed　—　Letter　from　Charles　Longman　—　Queen　Taia’s　ring。
The　day　on　which　I　mence　this　chapter　of　my　reminiscences　—　July　22；　1912　—　is　a　sad　one　for　me；　since　the　first　thing　I　saw　on　opening　my　eyes　this　morning　was　the　news　of　the　sudden　death　of　my　dear　friend；　Andrew　Lang。　It　is　odd　that　only　last　Thursday；　when　I　was　in　London；　some　vague　anxiety　concerning　him　prompted　me　to　make　an　effort　to　see　Lang。　Having　an　hour　to　spare　before　my　train　left；　I　took　a　taxi…cab　and　drove　to　his　house　in　Marloes　Road；　to　find　which　his　direction　of　many　years　ago　used　to　be；　“Walk　down　Cromwell　Road　till　you　drop；　then　turn　to　the　right！”
I　found　the　house　shut　up；　and　the　Scotch　girl；　arriving　from　the　lower　regions；　informed　me　that　her　master　had　left　for　Scotland　on　Tuesday。　I　gave　my　card；　asking　her　to　forward　it；　then　called　to　the　girl　as　she　was　shutting　the　door　to　ask　how　Lang　was。　She　replied　that　he　had　been　unwell；　but　was　much　better。　So；　perhaps　for　the　last　time；　I　departed　from　that　house　with　which　I　used　to　be　so　familiar　in　the　old　days；　filled　with　such　sad　thoughts　and　apprehensions　that　on　my　return　home　I　mentioned　them　to　Miss　Hector；　my　secretary。
Perhaps　these　were　due　to　the　drawn；　death…suggesting　blinds；　perhaps　to　the　knowledge　that　Lang　had　suffered　much　from　melancholy　of　late　—　contrary　to　the　general　idea；　his　was　always　a　nature　full　of　sadness　—　perhaps　to　some　more　subtle　reason。　At　any　rate；　it　was　so。
I　have　not　seen　much　of　Andrew　Lang　of　late　years；　for　the　reason　that　we　lived　totally　different　lives　in　totally　different　localities。　The　last　time　we　met　was　about　a　year　ago　at　a　meeting　of　the　Dickens　Centenary　Fund　mittee；　after　which　I　walked　far　with　him　on　his　homeward　way；　and　we　talked　as　we　used　to　talk　in　the　days　when　we　were　so　much　together。　The　time　before　that　was　about　two　years　ago；　when　I　dined　alone　with　him　and　Mrs。　Lang　at　Marloes　Road；　and　we　passed　a　delightful　evening。
Letters；　too；　have　been　scarce　between　us　for　some　years；　though　I　have　hundreds　of　the　earlier　times。　Here　are　extracts　from　one　or　two　of　the　last　which　have　a　melancholy　interest　now。
October　18；　1911。
Dear　Rider；　—　Thanks　for　the　Hare　＇this　refers　to　my　tale　of　“The　Mahatma　and　the　Hare”＇。　。　。　。　I　bar　chevying　hares；　but　we　are　all　hunted　from　birth　to　death　by　impecunious　relations；　disease；　care；　and　every　horror。　The　hare　is　not　hunted　half　so　much　or　half　so　endlessly。　However；　anyway；　I