太子爷小说网 > 英语电子书 > around the world in 80 days(环游世界80天) >

第11节

around the world in 80 days(环游世界80天)-第11节

小说: around the world in 80 days(环游世界80天) 字数: 每页4000字

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!



‘Of … forged iron;' replied Passepartout; as he set about preparing a hasty breakfast。 
At noon the Parsee gave the signal of departure。 
The country soon presented a very savage aspect。 Copses of dates and dwarf…palms succeeded the dense forests; then vast; dry plains; dotted with scanty shrubs; and sown with great blocks of syenite。 All this portion of Bundelcund; which is little frequented by travellers; is inhabited by a fanatical population; hardened in the most horrible practices of the Hindoo faith。 The English have not been able to secure complete dominion over this territory; which is subjected to the influence of rajahs; whom it is almost impossible to reach in their inaccessible mountain fastnesses。 The travellers several times saw bands of ferocious Indians; who; when they perceived the elephant striding across country; made angry and threatening motions。 The Parsee avoided them as much as possible。 Few animals were observed on the route; even the monkeys hurried from their path with contortions and grimaces which convulsed Passepartout with laughter。 
In the midst of his gaiety; however; one thought troubled the worthy servant。 What would Mr Fogg do with the elephant; when he got to Allahabad? Would he carry him on with him? Impossible! The cost of transporting him would make him ruinously expensive。 Would he sell him; or set him free? The estimable beast certainly deserved some consideration。 Should Mr Fogg choose to make him; Passepartout; a present of Kiouni; he would be very much embarrassed; and these thoughts did not cease worrying him for a long time。 
The principal chain of the Vindhias was crossed by eight in the evening; and another halt was made on the northern slope; in a Bed bungalow。 They had gone nearly twenty…five miles that day; and an equal distance still separated them from the station of Allahabad。 
The night was cold。 The Parsee lit a fire in the bungalow with a few dry branches; and the warmth was very grateful。 The provisions purchased at Kholby sufficed for supper; and the travellers ate ravenously。 The conversation; beginning with a few disconnected phrases; soon gave place to loud and steady snores。 The guide watched Kiouni; who slept standing; bolstering himself against the trunk of a large tree。 Nothing occurred during the night to disturb the slumberers; although occasional growls from panthers and chatterings of monkeys broke the silence; the more formidable beasts made no cries or hostile demonstration against the occupants of the bungalow。 Sir Francis slept heavily; like an honest soldier overcome with fatigue。 Passepartout was wrapped in uneasy dreams of the bouncing of the day before。 As for Mr Fogg; he slumbered as peak fully as if he had been in his serene mansion in Saville Row。 
The journey was resumed at six in the morning; the guide hoped to reach Allahabad by evening。 In that case; Mr Fogg would only lose a part of the forty…eight hours saved since the beginning of the tour。 Kiouni; resuming his rapid gait; soon descended the lower spurs of the Vindhias; and towards noon they passed by the age of Kallenger; on the Cani; one of the branches of the Ganges。 The guide avoided inhabited places; tag it safer to keep the open country; which lies along the first depressions of the basin of the great river。 Allahabad was now only twelve miles to the northeast。 They stopped under a clump of bananas; the fruit of which; as healthy as bread and as succulent as cream; was amply partaken of and appreciated。 
At two o'clock the guide entered a thick forest which extended several miles; he preferred to travel under cover of the woods。 They had not as yet had any unpleasant encounters; and the journey seemed on the point of being successfully accomplished; when the elephant; becoming restless; suddenly stopped。 
It was then four o'clock。 
‘What's the matter?' asked Sir Francis; putting out his head。 
‘I don't know; officer;' replied the Parsee; listening attentively to a confused murmur which came through the thick branches。 
The murmur soon became more distinct; it now seemed like a distant concert of human voices accompanied by brass instruments。 Passepartout was all eyes and ears。 Mr Fogg patiently waited without a word。 The Parsee jumped to the ground; fastened the elephant to a tree; and plunged into the thicket。 He soon returned; saying; 
‘A procession of Brahmins is coming this way。 We must prevent their seeing us; if possible。' 
The guide unloosed the elephant and led him into a thicket; at the same time asking the travellers not to stir。 He held himself ready to bestride the animal at a moment's notice; should flight become necessary; but he evidently thought that the procession of the faithful would pass without perceiving them amid the thick foliage; in which they were wholly concealed。 
The discordant tones of the voices and instruments drew nearer; and now droning songs mingled with the sound of the tambourines and cymbals。 The head of the procession soon appeared beneath the trees; a hundred paces away; and the strange figures who performed the religious ceremony were easily distinguished through the branches。 First came the priests; with mitres on their heads; and clothed in long lace robes。 They were surrounded by men; women; and children; who sang a kind of lugubrious psalm; interrupted at regular intervals by the tambourines and cymbals; while behind them was drawn a car with large wheels; the spokes of which represented serpents entwined with each other。 Upon the car; which was drawn by four richly caparisoned zebus stood a hideous statue with four arms; the body coloured a dull red; with haggard eyes; dishevelled hair; protruding tongue; and lips tinted with betel。 It stood upright upon the figure of a prostrate and headless giant。 
Sir Francis; recognizing the statue; whispered; ‘The goddess Kali; the goddess of love and death。' 
‘Of death; perhaps;' muttered back Passepartout; ‘but of love … that ugly old hag? Never!' 
The Parsee made a motion to keep silence。 
A group of old fakirs were capering and making a wild ado round the statue; te were striped with ochre; and covered with cuts whence their blood issued drop by drop … stupid fanatics; who; in the great Indian ceremonies; still throw themselves under the wheels of Juggernaut。 Some Brahmins; clad in all the sumptuousness of Oriental apparel; and leading a woman who faltered at every step; followed。 This woman was young; and as fair as a European。 Her head and neck; shoulders; ears; arms; hands and toes; were loaded down with jewels and gems; … with bracelets; earrings; and rings; while a tunic bordered with gold; and covered with a light muslin robe; betrayed the outline of her form。 
The guards who followed the young woman presented a violent contrast to her; armed as they were with naked sabres hung at their waists; and long damascened pistols; and bearing a corpse on a palanquin。 It was the body of an old man; gorgeously arrayed in the habiliments of a rajah; wearing; as in life; a turban embroidered with pearls; a robe of tissue of silk and gold; a scarf of cashmere sewed with diamonds; and the magnificent weapons of a Hindoo prince。 Next came the musicians and a rearguard of capering fakirs; whose cries sometimes drowned the noise of the instruments; these closed the procession。 
Sir Francis watched the procession with a sad countenance; and; turning to the guide; said; ‘A suttee。' 
The Parsee nodded; and put his finger to his lips。 The procession slowly wound under the trees; and soon its last ranks disappeared in the depths of the wood。 The songs gradually died away; occasionally cries were heard in the distance; until at last all was silence again。 
Phileas Fogg had heard what Sir Francis said; and; as soon as the procession had disappeared; asked: 
‘What is a 〃suttee〃?' 
‘A suttee;' returned the general; ‘is a human sacrifice but a voluntary one。 The woman you have just seen will be burned tomorrow at the dawn of day。' 
‘Oh; the scoundrels!' cried Passepartout; who could not repress his indignation。 
‘And the corpse?' asked Mr Fogg。 
‘Is that of the prince; her husband;' said the guide; ‘an independent rajah of Bundelcund。' 
‘Is it possible;' resumed Phileas Fogg; his voice betraying not the least emotion; ‘that these barbarous customs still exist in India; and that the English have been unable to put a stop to them?' 
‘These sacrifices do not occur in the larger portion of India;' replied Sir Francis; ‘but we have no power over these savage territories; and especially here in Bundelcund。 The whole district north of the Vindhias is the theatre of incessant murders and pillage。' 
‘The poor wretch!' exclaimed Passepartout。 ‘To be burned alive!' 
‘Yes;' returned Sir Francis; ‘burned alive。 And if she were not; you cannot conceive what treatment she would be obliged to submit to from her relatives。 They would shave off her hair feed her on a scanty allowance of rice; treat her with contempt; she would be looked upon as an unclean creature; and would die in some corner; like a scurvy dog。 The prospect of so frightful an existence drives these poor creatures to the sacrifice much more than love or religious fanaticism。 Sometimes; however; the sacrifice is really voluntary; and it requires the

返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 0 0

你可能喜欢的