the mahatma and the hare-第1节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！






The　Mahatma　and　the　Hare

A　Dream　Story

by　H。　Rider　Haggard







　〃Ultimately　a　good　hare　was　found　which　took　the　field　at　。　。　。
　　There　the　hounds　pressed　her；　and　on　the　hunt　arriving　at　the　edge
　　of　the　cliff　the　hare　could　be　seen　crossing　the　beach　and　going
　　right　out　to　sea。　A　boat　was　procured；　and　the　master　and　some
　　others　rowed　out　to　her　just　as　she　drowned；　and；　bringing　the
　　body　in；　gave　it　to　the　hounds。　A　hare　swimming　out　to　sea　is　a
　　sight　not　often　witnessed。〃/Local　paper；　January/　1911。

　〃。　。　。　A　long　check　occurred　in　the　latter　part　of　this　hunt；　the
　　hare　having　laid　up　in　a　hedgerow；　from　which　she　was　at　last
　　evicted　by　a　crack　of　the　whip。　Her　next　place　of　refuge　was　a
　　horse…pond；　which　she　tried　to　swim；　but　got　stuck　in　the　ice
　　midway；　and　was　sinking；　when　the　huntsman　went　in　after　her。　It
　　was　a　novel　sight　to　see　huntsman　and　hare　being　lifted　over　a
　　wall　out　of　the　pond；　the　eager　pack　waiting　for　their　prey　behind
　　the　wall。〃/Local　paper；　February/　1911。

*****

The　author　supposes　that　the　first　of　the　above　extracts　must　have
impressed　him。　At　any　rate；　on　the　night　after　the　reading　of　it；　just
as　he　went　to　sleep；　or　on　the　following　morning　just　as　he　awoke；　he
cannot　tell　which；　there　came　to　him　the　title　and　the　outlines　of
this　fantasy；　including　the　command　with　which　it　ends。　With　a
particular　clearness　did　he　seem　to　see　the　picture　of　the　Great　White
Road；　〃straight　as　the　way　of　the　Spirit；　and　broad　as　the　breast　of
Death；〃　and　of　the　little　Hare　travelling　towards　the　awful　Gates。

Like　the　Mahatma　of　this　fable；　he　expresses　no　opinion　as　to　the
merits　of　the　controversy　between　the　Red…faced　Man　and　the　Hare　that；
without　search　on　his　own　part；　presented　itself　to　his　mind　in　so　odd
a　fashion。　It　is　one　on　which　anybody　interested　in　such　matters　can
form　an　individual　judgment。



THE　MAHATMA＇*＇

＇*＇　Mahatma；　〃great…souled。〃　〃One　of　a　class　of　persons　with　preter…
　　　　natural　powers；　imagined　to　exist　in　India　and　Thibet。〃/New
　　　　English　Dictionary/。

Everyone　has　seen　a　hare；　either　crouched　or　running　in　the　fields；　or
hanging　dead　in　a　poulterer's　shop；　or　lastly　pathetic；　even　dreadful…
looking　and　in　this　form　almost　indistinguishable　from　a　skinned　cat；
on　the　domestic　table。　But　not　many　people　have　met　a　Mahatma；　at
least　to　their　knowledge。　Not　many　people　know　even　who　or　what　a
Mahatma　is。　The　majority　of　those　who　chance　to　have　heard　the　title
are　apt　to　confuse　it　with　another；　that　of　Mad　Hatter。

This　is　even　done　of　malice　prepense　（especially；　for　obvious　reasons；
if　a　hare　is　in　any　way　concerned）　in　scorn；　not　in　ignorance；　by
persons　who　are　well　acquainted　with　the　real　meaning　of　the　word　and
even　with　its　Sanscrit　origin。　The　truth　is　that　an　incredulous
Western　world　puts　no　faith　in　Mahatmas。　To　it　a　Mahatma　is　a　kind　of
spiritual　Mrs。　Harris；　giving　an　address　in　Thibet　at　which　no　letters
are　delivered。　Either；　it　says；　there　is　no　such　person；　or　he　is　a
fraudulent　scamp　with　no　greater　occult　powerswell；　than　a　hare。

I　confess　that　this　view　of　Mahatmas　is　one　that　does　not　surprise　me
in　the　least。　I　never　met；　and　I　scarcely　expect　to　meet；　an
individual　entitled　to　set　〃Mahatma〃　after　his　name。　Certainly　/I/
have　no　right　to　do　so；　who　only　took　that　title　on　the　spur　of　the
moment　when　the　Hare　asked　me　how　I　was　called；　and　now　make　use　of　it
as　a　/nom…de…plume/。　It　is　true　there　is　Jorsen；　by　whose　order；　for
it　amounts　to　that；　I　publish　this　history。　For　aught　I　know　Jorsen
may　be　a　Mahatma；　but　he　does　not　in　the　least　look　the　part。

Imagine　a　bluff　person　with　a　strong；　hard　face；　piercing　grey　eyes；
and　very　prominent；　bushy　eyebrows；　of　about　fifty　or　sixty　years　of
age。　Add　a　Scotch　accent　and　a　meerschaum　pipe；　which　he　smokes　even
when　he　is　wearing　a　frock　coat　and　a　tall　hat；　and　you　have　Jorsen。　I
believe　that　he　lives　somewhere　in　the　country；　is　well　off；　and
practises　gardening。　If　so　he　has　never　asked　me　to　his　place；　and　I
only　meet　him　when　he　comes　to　Town；　as　I　understand；　to　visit　flower…
shows。

Then　I　always　meet　him　because　he　orders　me　to　do　so；　not　by　letter　or
by　word　of　mouth　but　in　quite　a　different　way。　Suddenly　I　receive　an
impression　in　my　mind　that　I　am　to　go　to　a　certain　place　at　a　certain
hour；　and　that　there　I　shall　find　Jorsen。　I　do　go；　sometimes　to　an
hotel；　sometimes　to　a　lodging；　sometimes　to　a　railway　station　or　to
the　corner　of　a　particular　street　and　there　I　do　find　Jorsen　smoking
his　big　meerschaum　pipe。　We　shake　hands　and　he　explains　why　he　has
sent　for　me；　after　which　we　talk　of　various　things。　Never　mind　what
they　are；　for　that　would　be　telling　Jorsen's　secrets　as　well　as　my
own；　which　I　must　not　do。

It　may　be　asked　how　I　came　to　know　Jorsen。　Well；　in　a　strange　way。
Nearly　thirty　years　ago　a　dreadful　thing　happened　to　me。　I　was　married
and；　although　still　young；　a　person　of　some　mark　in　literature。　Indeed
even　now　one　or　two　of　the　books　which　I　wrote　are　read　and
remembered；　although　it　is　supposed　that　their　author　has　long　left
the　world。

The　thing　which　happened　was　that　my　wife　and　our　daughter　were　coming
over　from　the　Channel　Islands；　where　they　had　been　on　a　visit　（she　was
a　Jersey　woman）；　and；　andwell；　the　ship　was　lost；　that's　all。　The
shock　broke　my　heart；　in　such　a　way　that　it　has　never　been　mended
again；　but　unfortunately　did　not　kill　me。

Afterwards　I　took　to　drink　and　sank；　as　drunkards　do。　Then　the　river
began　to　draw　me。　I　had　a　lodging　in　a　poor　street　at　Chelsea；　and　I
could　hear　the　river　calling　me　at　night；　andI　wished　to　die　as　the
others　had　died。　At　last　I　yielded；　for　the　drink　had　rotted　out　all
my　moral　sense。　About　one　o'clock　of　a　wild；　winter　morning　I　went　to
a　bridge　I　knew　where　in　those　days　policemen　rarely　came；　and
listened　to　that　call　of　the　water。

〃Come！〃　it　seemed　to　say。　〃This　world　is　the　real　hell；　ending　in　the
eternal　naught。　The　dreams　of　a　life　beyond　and　of　re…union　there　are
but　a　demon's　mocking　breathed　into　the　mortal　heart；　lest　by　its
universal　suicide　mankind　should　rob　him　of　his　torture…pit。　There　is
no　truth　in　all　your　father　taught　you〃　（he　was　a　clergyman　and　rather
eminent　in　his　profession）；　〃there　is　no　hope　for　man；　there　is
nothing　he　can　win　except　the　deep　happiness　of　sleep。　Come　and
sleep。〃

Such　were　the　arguments　of　that　Voice　of　the　river；　the　old；　familiar
arguments　of　desolation　and　despair。　I　leant　over　the　parapet；　in
another　moment　I　should　have　been　gone；　when　I　became　aware　that　some
one　was　standing　near　to　me。　I　did　not　see　the　person　because　it　was
too　dark。　I　did　not　hear　him　because　of　the　raving　of　the　wind。　But　I
knew　that　he　was　there。　So　I　waited　until　the　moon　shone　out　for　a
while　between　the　edges　of　two　ragged　clouds；　the　shapes　of　which　I
can　see　to　this　hour。　It　showed　me　Jorsen；　looking　just　as　he　does
to…day；　for　he　never　seems　to　changeJorsen；　on　whom；　to　my
knowledge；　I　had　not　set　eyes　before。

〃Even　a　year　ago；〃　he　said；　in　his　strong；　rough　voice；　〃you　would　not
have　allowed　your　mind　to　be　convinced　by　such　arguments　as　those
which　you　have　just　heard　in　the　Voice　of　the　river。　That　is　one　of
the　worst　sides　of　drink；　it　decays　the　reason　as　it　does　the　body。
You　must　have　noticed　it　yourself。〃

I　replied　that　I　had；　for　I　was　surprised　into　acquiescence。　Then　I
grew　defiant　and　asked　him　what　he　knew　of　the　arguments　which　were　or
were　not　influencing　me。　To　my　surpriseno；　that　is　not　the　wordto
my　bewilderment；　he　repeated　them　to　me　one　by　one　just　as　they　had
arisen　a　few　minutes　before　in　my　heart。　Moreover；　he　told　me　what　I
had　been　about　to　do；　and　why　I　was　about　to　do　it。

〃You　know　me　and　my　story；〃　I　muttered　at　last。

〃No；〃　he　answered；　〃at　least　not　more　than　I　know　that　of　many　men
with　whom　I　chance　to　be　in　touch。　That　is；　I　have　not　met　you　for
nearly　eleven　hundred　years。　A　thousand　and　eighty…six；　to　be　correct。
I　was　a　blind　priest　then　and　you　were　the　captain　of　Irene's　guard。〃

At　this　news　I　burst　out　laughing　and　the　laugh　did　me　good。

〃I　did　not　know　I　was　so　old；〃　I　said。

〃Do　you　call　that　old？〃　answered　Jorsen。　〃Why；　the　first　time　that　we
had　anything　to　do　with　each　other；　so　far　as　I　can　learn；　that　is；
was　over　eight　thousand　years　ago；　in　Egypt　before　the　beginning　of
recorded　history。〃

〃I　thought　that　I　was　mad；　but　you　are　madder；〃　I　said。

〃Doubtless。　Well；　I　am　so　mad　that　I　managed　to　be　here　in　time　to
save　you　from　suicide；　as　once　in　the　past　you　saved　me；　for　thus
things　come　round。　But　your　rooms　are　near；　are　they　not？　Let　us　go
there　and　talk。　This　place　is　cold　and　the　river　is　always　calling。〃

That　was　how　I　came　to　know　Jorsen；　whom　I　believe　to　be　one　of　the
greatest　men　alive。　On　this　particular　night　that　I　have　described　he
told　me　many　things；　and　since　then　he　has　taught　me　much；　me　and　a
few　others。　But　whether　he　is　what　is　called　a　Mahatma　I　am　sure　I　do
not　know。　He　has　never　claimed　such　a　rank　in　my　hearing；　or　indeed　to
be　anything　more　than　a　man　who　has　succeeded　in　winning　a　knowledge
of　his　own　powers　out　of　the　de