The first series of Kamantan and Lulu｜1 From the forest, from the plateau, Here we come, here we come. Engo Manor My African estate is located in the foothills of the Ngo Mountains.The equator runs across a hundred miles of land to the north of the highlands.The altitude of the manor is as high as 6,000 feet.During the day, you will feel that you are very tall, very close to the sun, so bright and quiet in the morning and evening, but chilly at night. The combination of location and ground level creates a view that is unparalleled in the world.Everything here is neither rich nor gorgeous.This is the intense and pure essence of Africa distilled from a depth of six thousand feet.The tone is so dry it seems burnt, like pottery.The trees hang light and delicate leaves.The shape of the branches and leaves is obviously different from that of European trees. Instead of growing into a bow or circle, they stretch horizontally layer by layer.A few tall trees stand alone, like stalwart palms.That proud and romantic aura is like a majestic boat that has just folded its sails.The lines on the edge of the woods have a unique charm, as if the whole forest is trembling slightly.The twisted old thorn trees, with bare branches, are scattered on the vast grassland.Unknown wormwood sent bursts of shampoo, like thyme and amaranth.In some places the aroma is so strong it can prick your throat.Those flowers, whether they are on the grassland or on the vines and kudzu in the primeval forest, make people feel that they are about to wither, clusters of dots, very delicate lily.Here, your field of vision is broad and lofty, and everything that catches your eyes converges into greatness, freedom and incomparable nobility.

The scenery and your life in it, the most memorable thing is the sky.When you look back on the days and nights spent in the African highlands, there is a sudden feeling that you once lived in the air.The sky was almost a light blue or violet.Large swathes of clouds, soft and ever-changing, rise and float in the sky.The sky is full of blue vitality, painting the nearby mountains and forests in bright and deep blue.The sky at noon is very active, like a gushing magma, and like a pool of clear water flowing, shining, undulating, and radiating.All the scenes reflected by it are magnified and transformed into a wonderful mirage.In such a lofty sky, you can breathe freely.Your state of mind is extremely relaxed and full of confidence.In the African highlands, you wake up in the morning and feel: Oh, here I am, right where I should be.

The long ridge of Nge Mountain stretches from north to south.Its four crown-like majestic peaks are like blue-black crests condensed under the blue sky.At 8,000 feet above sea level, the eastern side of Mount Nge rises 2,000 feet above the surrounding fields, while the western side drops off steeply and steeply into the Great Rift Valley. The wind on the plateau always blows from the north and northwest.It is this wind that goes straight down the coast of Africa and the Arabian Peninsula. People call it the monsoon, and the east wind is said to be King Solomon's favorite mount.The earth here spreads out towards the vast sky, like a counterweight to the heaven.The monsoon winds blow the Ngo Mountains head-on, and the slopes here and there are ideal places to park my glider.Taking advantage of the wind, the glider flew straight up to the top of the mountain.The clouds that drift with the wind often linger around the mountains, or hang quietly in the air, or accumulate on the peaks and turn into rain.And those clouds that floated higher, roaming free and unfettered, finally melted away over the hot desert of the Great Rift Valley on the west side of Nge Mountain.How many times have I watched from my lodgings, following the march of these mighty processions, watched in amazement as they soared through the air, climbed to the summit, and then disappeared into the depths of the blue sky.

The hills outside my estate cross and change their character at times of the day, appearing now so near and now so far away.At dusk, the sky is getting darker. When you gaze at the mountains, there seems to be a thin silver edge in the sky to outline the outline of the vast peaks.As the night fell, the four peaks lost their edges and became vaguely rounded, as if caused by the stretching and elongation of the mountains themselves. Climb up Mount Ngo and look around: to the south, there is a vast plain where wild animals live, which is close to Mount Kilimanjaro; to the east and north, there is a beautiful wilderness like a park, and there is a large forest at the foot of the mountain in the distance. Kikuyu [Note] The nature reserve is undulating for more than 100 miles, connecting with Mount Kenya, and there are pieces of corn fields, banana orchards and pastures; here and there, there are light blue cooking smoke , and clusters of hills.But to the west the land fell abruptly across the dry, lunar landscape of the African Basin.The brown desert is irregularly dotted with small dotted thorn bushes, and the crooked riverbed is connected with dark green belts. It is the forest belt of mimosa trees, with a crown like a cover, branches spreading out, and thorns like needles.It is home to cacti, as well as giraffes and rhinos.

[Note] Kikuyu: A famous ethnic group in East Africa, distributed in central Kenya, with a population of about 4 million, mainly engaged in agriculture and animal husbandry. When you go deep into the mountains and fields, they are sparse, mysterious, picturesque, and extremely varied; sometimes they are long canyons, sometimes they are bushes, sometimes they are green grassy hillsides, and sometimes they are rugged and powerful rocks.Some peaks are even surrounded by dense bamboos.There are also clear springs and wells in the mountains. I used to camp there. When I was there, Ngo Mountain was populated by bison, eland, rhinos, etc.In the memory of the indigenous elders, there were elephants.It is a pity that the Enge Mountains have not been included in the wildlife sanctuary.A small portion of the protected area is limited by the lighthouse marker on the South Peak.As the colony prospers, the capital Nairobi develops into a big city, and the Ein Ge Mountains may well be planned as an unparalleled safari park.During my last few years in Africa, many young businessmen in Nairobi rode motorcycles into the mountains every Sunday to hunt at will.I imagined that the great animals had migrated southward away from the mountains, through thorny bushes and rocky terrain.

On the edge of the mountain or on the four peaks, the walk is not difficult.The grass there is short, like a lawn, and the gray rocks are mostly weathered.Surrounding the side of the mountain, up and down the peak, there is a trail stepped by wild animals, which is like a gentle S shape.I came here early one morning while camping and strolled along the trail to find the fresh footprints and steaming droppings of a herd of eland.These gentle giants must have come to the side of the hill at sunrise and walked in a long line.You can hardly imagine that their only purpose here is to look down on the ground under their feet.

We grow coffee on our estate.For coffee, the terrain here is a little higher.Maintaining a coffee garden requires hard work.We never got rich from it.But it's enough to keep you glued, there's always work to be done, there's no spare time, and you're generally one step behind. In the barren and messy wilderness, it is a joy to open up a piece of land, plant and take care of it according to the rules.In the following years, when I flew over Africa by plane, I was familiar with the style of my manor. When I saw this land, I was filled with pride. It lay quietly in the gray-green field, looking so bright and verdant.I suddenly realized how the human heart longs for regular geometric figures.The fields around Nairobi, especially in the northern part of the city, display a similar abundance.There are such people living here: what they think, talk about, and do are planting coffee, pruning branches, picking fruits, and even lying in bed at night, thinking about how to improve coffee processing facilities.

The growth of coffee is not a one-day effort, not as you imagined overnight.In your young and hopeful years, you braved the pattering rain to move pots of bright green coffee seedlings from the nursery, and together with the helpers in the manor, planted them in rows of moist soil pits Here they will take root and grow.You also have to cut some branches in the field to build shade for the coffee seedlings. The seedlings need special attention in a warm, hazy environment.After four or five years, the coffee tree begins to bear fruit.Meanwhile, you may experience drought, pests and diseases, and those tenacious weeds that will harass your field. There is a wild bean called the Jolly Roger, which has a long, elongated, spiny shell that will entangle you when it touches it. clothes, socks.Some coffee seedlings were improperly transplanted, and the main root was injured. When they were just about to bloom, they withered and died.More than 600 coffee plants are planted on an acre of land.On my 600-acre coffee plantation, the oxen dragged the plow up and down the field, persevering thousands of miles, patiently anticipating future rewards.

The coffee garden also often presents a pleasing scenery.At the beginning of the rainy season, the coffee flowers are in full bloom.The drizzle, the mist, and the chalky white flowers, like a white cloud, covered the six hundred acres in all their splendor.Coffee flower has a faint, slightly bitter aroma like sloe.Once the coffee beans are ripe, the garden turns bright red.At this time, women and children, together with men, come to pick coffee beans.Four-wheeled and two-wheeled carts creaked and pulled the coffee beans to the processing factory by the river.Our machines are not superior, but the processing plant was planned and built by ourselves after all, and we cherish it very much.It was destroyed by fire, and we rebuilt it.The huge coffee drier turned, turned, and the coffee beans rolled and rolled in its iron belly, like pebbles on the beach being washed by waves.Sometimes, in the middle of the night, the beans dry out and they have to be removed from the large tank right away.It was a truly dramatic moment. In the dimly lit large factory building, many hurricane lamps were lit, with cobwebs hanging from every corner, and coffee pods everywhere.Under the radiance of the lights, dark faces full of anticipation surrounded the dryer in high spirits.In the whole processing plant, you will feel that in this unusual African night, it is like a bright gemstone inlaid on the earrings of the king of Ethiopia.Afterwards, the coffee beans are dehulled, graded, sorted and sorted by hand, put into sacks, and sewed with a large saddle stitch.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, when the sky was still dark, I was dozing off in bed, when I suddenly heard shouts, wheels of four-wheeled carts, and coachmen running back and forth.Large carts full of coffee bean sacks, twelve sacks per ton, each cart pulled by sixteen cows, headed for Nairobi Railway Station along the uphill road.I am thankful that this was the only uphill part of their way, since the estate is a thousand feet higher than Nairobi.In the evening, I went outside to greet the returning convoy.The cows were tired and bowed their heads in front of the empty cart, and a child feebly led them.The coachmen are weary, dragging their whips in the dust of the road.So far, we've done everything we can.The coffee is sent to the port and shipped out within a day or two.We can only hope for good luck in the big auction market in London.

My 6,000 acres of land, in addition to coffee, are scattered and partially natural forests, and 1,000 acres are divided among sharecroppers. They are called shamba. . 】.These native tenant farmers each occupy a few acres of land in the white manor, and then work for the manor owner for a period of time every year without pay in return.For this kind of relationship, I think the tenant farmers don’t think so, because most of them, even their fathers, were born and raised here, and they prefer to regard me as a senior tenant farmer in their manor.On my estate, the sharecropper's land is decidedly more alive, taking on a different look with the seasons.When you walk on the hard-trodden path, with rustling green curtains on both sides, the corn grows higher than your head and will soon be harvested and put into the barn.When the kidney beans in the field are ripe, the women come to pick and shell them, and the bean vines and pods are piled up and burned on the spot.At certain times of the year, plumes of smoke billowed all over the manor.The Kikuyu also grow sweet potatoes.The sweet potato seedlings are like grapes, spreading over the ground like a densely tangled straw mat.In the field, you can also see big pumpkins of different varieties, yellow and green, mixed with spots. Whenever you walk through the Shambas of the Kikuyu people, the first thing that catches your sight is always the back of an old peasant woman bent over the ground, just like an ostrich buried in the sand.Every Kikuyu family has several domed huts and granaries.The open space between the huts is lively and busy, the ground is as hard as concrete, where adults grind rice and milk cows, and children run after chickens.In the blue evenings I used to hunt wildfowl in the sweet potato fields around the sharecropper's hut.Pigeons cooed and sang aloud on trees with tall branches and fringed leaves.My manor was originally a large forest, and these trees were left over when the fields were opened up, and they were scattered around Shamba. I also have more than 2,000 acres of pasture land on my estate.Here, the tall pastures undulate like waves in the strong wind.Kikuyu shepherd boys herd their father's cattle.In the cool season they carried with them little old wicker baskets filled with coals brought from home for warmth, which sometimes inevitably set fires in the meadows and disasters on the estate and pastures.In dry years, zebras and elands often come down to visit the pastures. Our city, Nairobi, lies on a level land among the mountains, twelve miles from the estate.There are government buildings and many large central offices in the city.People run the whole country here. It is impossible for a city not to have an impact on your life, and it doesn't matter whether you praise it or criticize it.According to the spiritual law of gravity, it draws your heart to you.The glowing mist over Nairobi at night which I could look out from certain parts of the estate brought back to my imagination the great cities of Europe. When I first came to Africa, there were no cars in Kenya. We went to Nairobi to ride horses or drive a two-wheeled cart pulled by six mules. When we arrived in the city, we put the animals in the stables of the Highland Transport Company.When I was there, Nairobi was a motley city of rich new stone and brick buildings, with a sprawl of old shops, offices and bungalows with corrugated iron roofs.The dusty road was lined with two long rows of eucalyptus trees.The High Court, the Department of Aboriginal Affairs, the veterinary clinic, it's all a mess.I really admire those government officials who can conduct all their official business in a hot, dark room. Nevertheless, Nairobi is a city after all.Here, you can buy things, listen to the news, have lunch or dinner in a restaurant, or dance in a club.Nairobi is a place full of vitality. It is moving like flowing water; it is developing like a new thing; its appearance changes every year, even when you return from hiking and hunting, you will feel the change.The new government building was built, a stately and shady building with a beautiful ballroom and beautiful gardens; a grand hotel was built, a large agricultural exhibition was impressive, and a colorful flower display was amazing. Don't forget to linger; the colony's quasi-private theater clubs also occasionally put on small melodramas to spice up the city.Nairobi is saying to you, make the most of me, make the most of my time unfettered, greedy!Generally speaking, Nairobi and I understand each other quite well.Sometimes when I drive through the city, I suddenly have a strange idea: without the roads of Nairobi, there would be no world. Indigenous and immigrant areas of color are much larger than white areas. The Swahili area, off the road to the Musayga Club, has a bad reputation by any stretch of the imagination.It was a loud, dirty, tacky place, and throughout the day, a series of things happened.Most of the houses are built with flattened kerosene tank tin sheets, which are rusted to varying degrees, resembling coral stones.Within that fossilized structure, the once-developed spirit of civilization is fading away. Somalia District is located in the outskirts of Nairobi. I guess this has something to do with the Somali custom of confining women.At that time, there were some pretty young Somali women who were famous all over the city and came to live in Market Street.Brilliant and intoxicating, they drive the police in Nairobi to their knees.Proper Somali women never show their faces in the city.The Somalia district is surrounded by wind, unsheltered and dusty.This kind of scene probably reminds the Somali people of the desert of their own empire.For many years, even generations, the Europeans who lived here were extremely disgusted by the fact that the nomads had no intention of building a good residential environment.The Somali houses, jumbled up on bare grounds and looking as if they had been nailed together with a pile of four-inch nails, lasted only a week or so.Strangely, however, no matter which one you enter, you will be pleasantly surprised to find that it is so clean, fresh, and filled with the smell of Arabian incense.There are rich carpets and curtains in the interior, and there are bronze and silver utensils and sharp ivory hilted daggers.Somali women are dignified, quiet, hospitable by nature, optimistic and open-minded, and their laughter is as sweet as silver bells.My Somali servant, Farah, was with me all the time in Africa and often took me to the Somali village as a guest. I felt very comfortable, as if I was at home.Somalian grand wedding is a colorful traditional festival.As a VIP, I was introduced into the new house.Glittering ancient weaving and embroidery hung on the walls and on the wedding bed.The dark-eyed bride, like the marshal's staff, stood upright.She was dressed in silk, and she wore heavy gold and amber jewelry. Somalis all over Kenya trade cattle.They raised a group of small gray donkeys in the village as a means of transportation. I also saw camels there. The product of the pride and hardship of the Great Desert, like a cactus, can withstand all the hardships on the earth. The Somali people are camels. The terrible quarrels between the tribes were the sudden disaster of the Somalians themselves.At this point, their feelings and views are different.Farah belongs to the Habur|Younis tribe, which puts me on their side in the dispute.For a while, there was a large-scale fighting between the two tribes Durba｜Hantis and Habur｜Chaoro in the Somali region. There were gunshots and flames flickering. About ten to twelve people were killed.The fight ended with government intervention.At that time, Farah had a young friend from the same clan named Said, who often came to visit him in the manor. He was a very dashing young man.When the servants told me what had happened to Saeed, I was really sorry.It turned out that Saeed was a guest at a family of the Hapur|Chaoro tribe that day, and it happened that an angry member of the Durba|Hantis tribe passed there and shot two shots into the wall at will.The bullet pierced through the wall and shattered one of Saeed's leg bones.My condolences to Farah for his friend's misfortune What?Saeed?Farah shouted hoarsely, Saeed is lucky.Why did he go to a Harpur|Chaoro's for tea? Indians in Nairobi control most of the shops on Market Street.Those Indian giants built small villas outside the city, such as Jawaj, Suleiman.Fei Jie, Aridina.Faith Ram, wait.They all have a penchant for carved stone steps, railings, and vase ornaments, all of which are carved out of Kenyan soft stone, as clumsily as children's roof trusses made of pink building blocks.They held tea parties in the garden, and entertained guests with Indian pastries, which tasted just like their villas.These Indians are alert, well informed and courteous.Indians in Africa are all businessmen in groups.Dealing with them, you never know if you are dealing with an individual or the head of a company representing a company.I have been to Suleiman.Feige's residence.One day, I noticed that the flag on his big storehouse had flown at half-staff, so I asked Farah: Is it Suleiman?Fei Jie died? He is half dead.Farah replied. how?Is the flag lowered at half-mast?I ask seriously. Suleiman is dead, Farah said, but Feija is alive. Before I took over the estate, I was an avid hunter and traveled a lot.But when I was busy with the business of the estate, I put the rifle aside. The Maasai nomads with cattle are my neighbors and live on the other side of the river.Some of them often come to my house, complaining that the lions have eaten their cows, and begging me to kill them.Whenever possible, I always say yes.How many Sundays, followed by a large group of Kikuyu teenagers, I hunted on foot on the Aolongji grassland, hunting a zebra or two to satisfy the greed of the manor laborers.In the manor, I hunt wild fowl, rock-billed chicken, and guinea fowl, all of which are delicacies.But then for many years I did not go hunting. Nevertheless, at the estate we often talked about past hunting experiences.Those places you camped on are forever in your mind, as if you spent a long part of your life there.You will clearly remember the curves rolled by the four-wheeled vehicle on the grassland, just like remembering the facial features of a friend. When I was out hunting, I saw a herd of bison emerge one by one from the morning mist under a coppery sky, a hundred and twenty-nine in all.These massive, cast-iron animals, with their horizontally curving horns, seemed not to come toward me, but to be cast before my eyes, and then to walk.I also saw a group of elephants walking through the dense jungle.The sun shines among the thick vines, and the herd of elephants is advancing, as if rushing to a date at the end of the world.It was the edge of a huge, priceless old Persian rug, speckled with greens, yellows, and dark browns.I have also watched giraffes crossing the field time and time again.How queer, genial, and full of life are their manners; it makes you feel that this is not a herd of animals, but a slow-moving group of gigantic, long-stemmed, color-speckled flowers.I have followed two rhinos on a leisurely early morning walk, sniffing and snorting the pungent air.They seem to be two rocks with edges and corners playing in the narrow valley, sharing the joy of the sky.Also, before sunrise, under the crescent moon, I saw a majestic lion crossing the gray plain, on his way home from hunting, casting his eyes on the silvery grass. Deep shadows.Its face was red all the way to its ears.The paradise of the African lion stands tall with thick-twisted acacia trees, and under the delicate, spring-like shade of green is a patch of low grass.During the noon break, the male lion squats proudly among its family members. It is exhilarating to think of all this during those drab days at the estate.Huge herds of wild animals are still in their domain.I can visit them if I want.Their close proximity adds to the lively, convivial atmosphere of the estate.Although Farah sometimes has a strong interest in farming and the native servants I have hunted are always eager to travel again. In the wilderness, I learned to be cautious and prevent unexpected accidents.The creatures you're dealing with are wary and timid, but their gift is to pounce when you don't expect them.No domestic animal is as serene as a wild animal.Civilized people have lost their quiet nature, and they can only accept it if they learn from wild animals and fill this gap. Moving gently without making any sudden movements is the first lesson for a hunter, especially for a hunter with a camera.Hunters must not act on their own, they must follow the winds, colors, and smells of the field, and they must act in unison.If a wild animal repeats an action many times, the hunter must follow it. Once you have mastered the rhythm of Africa, you will find that in all its music, there are the same notes.What I have learned from wild animals is not useless in my dealings with natives. To love a woman and her temperament is a characteristic of a man; to love a man and her temperament is a characteristic of a woman.However, the southern European countries and nations have a prejudice that it is just the temperament of the Nordic people.The Normans must have developed a feeling for foreign countries, first for France, then for England.These old gentlemen, who appear in the histories and novels of the eighteenth century, frequented Italy, Greece, and Spain, had no Southern influence in their personalities, and were fascinated by very different things.How much the Scandinavian painters, philosophers, and poets of old, when they first came to Florence and Rome, worshiped the South. These impatient people display a grotesque, illogical patience with distant worlds.It is almost impossible for a woman to provoke a real man, and as long as a man remains manly, he must never be slighted, he must never be shut out.And those hot-tempered, red-haired Nordics are suffering from long-term, endless friction with equatorial countries and peoples.They cannot tolerate the frivolity of their own country or their own kin, but they can submissively endure drought in the African highlands, heat stroke in the hot sun, vaccination of cattle, and the incompetence of native servants.Their sense of individuality has been lost in possibility, and the sense of possibility exists in interacting with those who are good at coordinating and assimilating.Southern Europeans and mestizos do not possess this quality, but in turn condemn it and despise it.So men who despise sentimental lovers and rational women who are impatient with their men are equally resentful of Grinzelda. 【Note】Greenselda: The protagonist in Mrs. Mooresworth's "Cuckoo Clock". As for me, from the first few weeks in Africa, I developed a deep affection for the natives.It is a very strong emotion for men, women and children.Suppose a person born with sympathy for animals grows up in an environment without animals, and suddenly comes into contact with animals again; suppose a person who naturally loves trees and forests enters the forest for the first time at the age of twenty; suppose a person with People who have a romantic relationship with music, but they didn't hear music for the first time until they were adults. Then, these people are me now.After getting acquainted with the natives, I turned the main content of my daily life into orchestral music. My father was an officer in the Danish and French armies.As a young lieutenant in Dupar's garrison, he wrote home: Looking back at Dupar, I have always been an officer of the column. It is hard work, but it is very honorable.Hospitality for war is a desire like any other.You love soldiers like you love young girls madly, and girls know it best.But loving a woman is only loving one person at a certain time, while the love for your soldiers is very extensive, covering the whole regiment, and you would like to expand it as long as possible.That's what happened between me and the natives. Understanding Aboriginal people is not easy.They have keen hearing and delicate feelings.If you frighten them, they withdraw into their world, and within a second, with a sudden movement like a beast, they disappear without a trace.Unless you know the native well, it's almost impossible to get a straight answer from him.For example, you ask a direct question: How many cows do you have?His answer is forever elusive: as much as I told you yesterday.Such an answer would undoubtedly hurt the feelings of Europeans, just as asking such a question would also embarrass the natives emotionally.If we persuade or press them to obtain an explanation for their behaviour, they back off whenever possible, and lead us astray by their eccentric and humorous imaginings.In this environment, even a child has the quality of a veteran poker player and doesn't care whether you guess his hand is high or low, as long as you can't figure out the real hole card.Once we have broken through their defenses and penetrated into the inner layer of their existence, they behave like ants. You poke a stick into their anthill, and with indomitable perseverance, they quickly and silently tear away the damaged part of the anthill. Clean up as if to erase indecent behavior. We have no way of knowing, nor can we imagine, what fear they have about our cards.Personally, I think they are more afraid of our behavior because you are afraid of suffering, afraid of death, but more afraid of sudden horror.Even so, it is sometimes difficult to tell because the natives are skilled at deceiving people.In Shampa, sometimes early in the morning you will see a chukka pass your horse, as if its wings have been broken, for fear of being caught by the hounds.But in fact, its wings were safe, and it never worried about being chased by hounds. It could choose the right time to fly away with a swoop, leaving a group of chicks to stay safe somewhere nearby.It turns out that it is diverting our attention.Like the chutney, the aborigines pretend to be afraid of us for other, deeper reasons that we cannot predict.Or after all, their attitude towards us may be some kind of strange banter.These shy people are not afraid of us at all, and the natives are far less adventurous in life than the whites.Sometimes on a hunt or on a manor, at a tense moment, when my eyes meet those of my native companions, I feel a great distance between them.Their indifference to my willingness to take risks led me to reflect that in life, they may inherently prefer fish in deep water.It seems to me that their faith, their art of swimming, depended on them maintaining a common sense long lost to our forefathers.Africa, more than any other continent, can teach me this lesson: God and the devil are the same eternal co-existing authority, not an eternity of one or the other, but a common eternity of repeated advances and retreats.Aboriginal neither confuses different personalities nor divides essence. During the safari and in the manor, I gradually became familiar with the aborigines and formed a stable personal relationship.we are good friends.I couldn't help but face the fact that while I could never know or understand them deeply, they saw me very clearly.They realized the decision I was about to make before I had made up my own.At one time, I had a small estate in the Gilgil area, and I lived in tents, and I traveled between Ngo and Gilgil by train.As soon as it rains in Gilgil, I will suddenly decide to return to Ngo.Just as I reached the Kikuyu station, ten miles from the estate, one of my servants would come to fetch me home with a mule.When I asked them how they had heard of my return, they turned their faces away in a very unnatural way, as if they were frightened or annoyed.We'd have that look, too, if a deaf man insisted on us explaining a symphony to him. Whenever the aborigines are faced with unexpected events and noises and feel safe because of us, they will talk to us freely, and their frankness far exceeds that of Europeans.They are not dependable, but extremely sincere.A good reputation and prestige is very important to the natives.At times, they seemed to co-wrote a set of flattering words for us, and none of the partners backed away afterward. Manor life was often solitary.In the silence of the night, every minute and every second drips from the clock, and life seems to drip from you along with every minute and every second.How you long to talk to white people.But I always felt that the silence concealed the existence of the indigenous people. They seemed to be in two planes with me, flying in parallel, echoing one after another. Indigenous people are African in flesh and blood.The extinct Longonot volcano towering in the Great Rift Valley, the huge mimosa trees on the river bank, elephants and giraffes, all of these are incomparable to the tiny creatures on the indigenous landscape, they are the real Africa.All are different expressions of the same idea, all are different expressions of the same theme.This is not the same kind of gathering of heterogeneous atoms, but the heterogeneous gathering of like atoms, just like the relationship between oak leaves, acorns and oak products.And we ourselves, coming and going in boots, clashed with the landscape from time to time.Indigenous and landscape are harmonious.When these tall, thin, dark-skinned, black-eyed people travel, they always walk one after another, because the aboriginal traffic arteries are also narrow paths. They plow the ground, graze, hold grand dances, and tell you Stories, this is Africa roaming and dancing, this is Africa entertaining you.On this plateau, you think of the poet's best lines: I find Indigenous greatness and nobility Immigration is boring The colony has changed, or is changing, since I've been here.I wrote down my experience in the manor as precisely as possible, and I wrote anecdotes about this country and the people and animals that inhabit the plateau and forest, and all of these may have a historical significance. a native kid Kamantan was a Kikuyu boy, the son of my sharecropper.I knew the sharecropper children well, as they also worked for me on the estate.They like to graze sheep in the lawn around my house because they believe there is always something interesting going on here.在我認識卡曼坦之前，他肯定已在莊園裡住了好幾年，我猜想他過著一種離群索居的生活，就跟一頭病獸似的。 我是有一次在莊園裡騎馬時遇見他的，他正在那兒放羊，是你所見到的最可憐的土著。他腦袋大大的，身子出奇地瘦小，胳膊肘和膝蓋鼓出來，儼若木棍上的癰瘡。與大草原相形之下，顯得格外渺小，給你一種奇異的印象：如此深重的苦痛也可以濃縮成一個小不點兒。我停下來同他說話，他一聲不吭，似乎對我視而不見。他的臉扁平、瘦削，飽經折磨而極富耐心。他的雙眸黯然無光，像死人一般。看這副模樣彷彿他活不了幾個星期。你甚至依稀看到專與死屍為伴的禿鷹從淺藍的、炙熱的空中衝下來，在他的頭頂上盤旋。我讓他明天早晨到我家來，我好想法子治療他的膿瘡。 幾乎每天上午九點到十點，我給莊園裡的土著看病，就像所有的江湖醫生，我也有一大堆病人圍著，一般都有一二十人。 吉庫尤人慣於承受不測之事，對意外變故習以為常，泰然處之。他們與白人不同，絕大部分白人都竭力逃避未來的厄運。黑人對命運女神十分友善，安於一輩子在她手心裡。在某種意義上，命運女神是他的家茅屋裡那熟悉的、黑暗的、他紮根的深坑。對於生活中的任何變化，他鎮定自若。他在主人、醫生及上帝那裡尋找的稟性之中，我想當首推想像力。也許正是基於這種力量，哈里夫．哈龍．拉希迪才得以在非洲及阿拉伯人的心中，保持著理想的統治地位。和他在一起，預料不到下一步將發生什麼，也不知道在何處能見到他。當非洲人談及上帝的個性時，他們就像在講述《天方夜譚》，或是在敘說《約伯》【註：舊約聖經中的人物。】的最後一章。恰恰是這些無窮的想像力，給人們留下了深刻的印象。 我也沾了土著這一特點的光，享有醫生的美譽。我第一次來非洲時，曾與昔日的一位偉大的科學家同乘一艘汽船。這是他第二十三次出門，進行睡眠症的醫療試驗。汽船上有他隨身攜帶的一百多隻兔子和天竺鼠。他告訴我，他與土著打交道的困難絕不是他們缺乏勇氣面對病痛和大手術，他們很少流露出懼怕心理而是他們對常規的極為厭煩，不論是周而復始的療程還是整個操作的規範化。德國名醫對此百思不得其解。可是，當我漸漸了解土著後，他們的這一素質也成為我最欣賞的稟性之一了。他們具有真正的勇氣：對危險的由衷的熱愛對宣布他們命運的創造性的回答大地對天堂之聲的回音。有時我猜想，在土著的心底，真正憂慮的倒是我們賣弄學問的習氣。在自詡為能者的那些人手中，他們死於悲傷。 我的病人等候在我房間外的平臺上。他們蹲伏著瘦骨嶙峋的老人，一個勁兒咳嗽，眼珠骨碌碌轉。苗條的年輕婦女，示意嬉鬧的孩子保持安靜。這些嘻嘻哈哈的兒童，眼睛黑亮，可惜嘴角擦傷了。母親背著發燒的孩子像晒蔫的花兒掛在頸子上。我常給一些燒傷病人進行治療。吉庫尤人夜裡睡在茅屋裡的火堆旁。那些燃燒的乾柴或木炭會滾坍下來，滑到他們身上。有時我的藥庫裡斷了藥，我會覺得蜂蜜不次於治燒傷的油膏。平臺上的氣氛活躍，驚心動魄，猶如歐洲的夜總會。我一走出屋子，竊竊私語的聲浪漸漸平息。安靜孕育著種種不測的可能，而此刻，不測之事來到了他們面前。土著總是順從地任我自己挑選第一位就診的病人。 我並不精於醫道，只是知道一些急救常識而已。我這醫生的名望是因為碰巧治好的幾個病例而傳播開來的，而且並不因我犯下的災難性失誤而減弱。 說是我在每個病例中都能保證病人康復，又有誰曉得他們的健康週期在我的治療下，也有縮短的時候呢？那個時期我真該獲得專業特許明擺著我是一位來自伏拉維亞的高明醫生他們確信上帝與我在一起麼？有關上帝的信念來自於那些大旱之年，來自於夜間大草原上的獅群，來自於在孩子們獨處的房屋附近閒逛的花豹，來自於降落在大地上的蝗蟲群無人知曉牠們從何而來，所過之處，片葉不留。他們對上帝的信念，也來自於神妙莫測的歡樂時光蝗蟲群飛過玉米田竟未曾停留，或者春季雨水來得早，來得多，原野花草茂盛，五穀豐登。於是，我這個來自伏拉維亞的高明醫生在真正的生活大事中，不過是個旁觀者而已。 出乎我的意料，卡曼坦果真在第二天早上出現在我的房前。他站在那裡，與另外三、四個人稍稍隔開，直挺挺地躺著。那張半死的臉似乎流露出他畢竟戀棧生活的某些情感，現在決心碰碰運氣，作一次最後的嘗試，以爭取留住生命。 隨著時間的推移，他顯示出自己是一個優秀的病人。叫他什麼時候來，他就什麼時候來，從未錯過。告訴他隔三、四天來，他一準來。能記住這個數，在土著中可謂出類拔萃了。他以我前所未見的淡泊與堅忍承受著治療癰瘡的痛苦。在這些方面，我也許早該將他樹為榜樣，但我沒能這樣做，因為與此同時，他給我帶來了許多憂慮和不安。 極少，極少我遇上這麼一個充滿野性的創造物，一個與世如此隔絕的人，以某種堅定的、執著的順從，脫離周圍的生活，把自己封閉起來。我能夠讓他回答我的問題，但他從不主動說一個字，也從不正面看我一眼。他沒有任何憐憫心，總是帶一點兒輕蔑的嘲笑，說明他比別人懂得多一點兒自豪當其他病孩流著淚清洗、包紮傷口時，他從來不屑一顧。他無意與周圍世界發生任何接觸，他經歷過的接觸把他傷得太重了。他在痛苦中所顯示的靈魂之剛毅，乃是古代武士的那種剛毅。再沒有比驚嚇他更壞的了。他的放牧職能，他的哲學，使他對最壞的可能持有充分的準備。 所有這些都體現於高貴的舉止中，使人想起普羅米修斯的宣言：痛苦是我的要素，恰如仇恨是你的要素。今日你將我肢解，我也不屑一顧。啊，你把最壞的事都幹出來吧，你是萬能的！但對於卡曼坦這小小的軀體，這是令人不舒坦的，令人寒心的。上帝的意下如何？我想當上帝面對著這個小人物所表現出來的風度時。 我清晰地記得他第一次看著我，向我敘述他的經歷時的情景。這該是我們相識一段時間之後，我已經放棄了第一種治療手段，正在嘗試新的辦法我在書中查到的熱泥敷法。我急於求成，以至將泥弄得太燙。當我把熱泥糊在他的腿上，綁紗布時他叫了一聲姆沙布，並掃了我一眼。土著借用這個印地詞語來稱呼白人婦女，只是發音稍有不同，又賦之以不同的涵義，變成了非洲語彙。此刻，卡曼坦口中發出的是求助的聲音，也是警告的聲音，就像一個忠實的明友在勸阻你不要再幹那些事。事後，我是懷著希望回味這一幕的。我有當醫生的雄心，我為泥敷得太燙而不安，但我畢竟還是高興的，因為這是野小子與我之間的第一次理解的目光。這位沉溺於苦難中的不幸兒，所能期望的除了苦難還有什麼呢？而今，從我的身上，他所期望的卻不再是苦難了。 然而，雖然我給他的療程在進展，可情況卻不見轉機。很長一段時間，我一直為他清洗、包紮腿瘡，但這種腿瘡遠遠不是我所能治癒的。常常是一處腿瘡稍有好轉，不久，在新的部位又長出膿瘡。最後我決定送他到蘇格蘭教會醫院去就診。 這一決定是至關緊要的，它孕育著充分的希望，給卡曼坦的觸動很大他並不願上醫院。他的牧童天職、他的哲學造就了他與世無爭。我堅持開車送他去到教會，安排在一長溜的病舍之中。他在這全然新奇、神祕的環境裡，禁不住瑟瑟發抖。 蘇格蘭教會的教堂鄰近我的莊園，在西北十二英哩處，海拔高出五百英呎。而法國的羅馬天主教會在莊園以東十英哩處，地勢較為平坦，低出五百英呎。我對這兩個教會都沒什麼偏見，個人關係上都很友好，而且對他們互相之間那種無法調和的仇視感到遺憾。 法國教士們是我最好的朋友，我常與法拉赫一起騎馬到那裡去，望禮拜日早晨的彌撒，一則可以講講法語，二則是去教堂的路上，騎馬別有一番興味。這中間有很長一段路穿過森林局種植的金合歡樹林帶。在早晨的空氣裡，這些樹散發的新鮮、雄渾的松樹般的芬芳，甜美得令人雀躍。 真是超群絕倫，羅馬教堂不論在哪裡，都籠罩著自己特殊的氛圍。教士們自行設計、修建了教堂。土著團體給予了協助，他們為此感到自豪。這裡有一座巧奪天工、灰色的大教堂，配帶一座鐘樓。大教堂矗立在開闊的庭院裡，上面有平臺和階梯，周圍是教會種植的咖啡園本殖民地最古老的教堂，管理上也頗見功力。庭院兩側是帶拱頂的餐廳和修道院建築。教會學校和麵粉廠位於河畔。你得登越拱橋才能進入教堂前的馬路。教堂全由清一色灰色的石塊砌成。當你騎馬下坡來到它跟前時，它顯得那麼整潔、富有魅力，彷彿應該座落在瑞士的南方州區或義大利的北部。 彌撒做完時，我的教會朋友們聚集在教堂門口等候我，邀我到庭院對面那寬敞、蔭涼的餐廳小酌。在那裡，聽他們縱論本殖民地的種種現狀，以至僻遠角落裡的奇聞，很有意思。在親切、仁慈的交談中，他們也會神不知鬼不覺地從你那兒掏走你可能有的任何新聞，就像一群活潑的、棕色、多毛的蜜蜂他們都留著又長又濃的鬍鬚停落在花朵上吮蜜。雖然他們對殖民地生活如此津津樂道，卻始終過著法國式的海外生活。對於某些高層次的神祕性，則頗有耐心，頗為敬慕而且達觀。你會感到如果不是那個未知的權威的安排，他們不會在這裡，那帶有高高鐘樓的灰色教堂，那拱頂迴廊，那學校，還有他們那整個的種植園以及教會所在地，也都不會出現在這裡。一旦調令下來，他們所有的人都會撂下殖民地的種種事務，像蜂群似地飛回巴黎。 在我巡遊教堂，出入餐廳時，法拉赫一直牽著兩匹小馬。我們在回莊園的路上，他能感覺出我歡樂的情緒他本人是個虔誠的穆斯林，滴酒不沾，但他將彌撒與飲酒視為我宗教的協調儀式。 法國教士們有時騎摩托車來莊園作客，與我共進午餐。他們給我講拉封丹寓言故事，並對我的咖啡園予以指導。 蘇格蘭教會，我不太了解。教區的上方以及周圍的一大片吉庫尤土地，風景都很壯觀。可是蘇格蘭教會給我一種盲目的印象，它似乎對外界的一切視而不見。該教會費了不少力氣讓土著穿歐式服裝，我認為無論從哪個角度看都於土著無益。但它有一所很不錯的醫院。我在莊園的時候，這醫院由慈善家、聰敏的主治醫師阿瑟博士負責。他們挽救了莊園裡許多人的生命。 卡曼坦在蘇格蘭教會醫院住了三個月。他住院期間，我去探望過一次。有一回我騎馬去吉庫尤火車站，路過教會，那裡有一條路曾一度通往醫院花園。我發現卡曼坦一個人在草坪上站著，不遠的地方還有幾夥正在養病的患者。那時候，卡曼坦好多了，能奔跑了。他見到我，便跑過來，隔著籬笆與我賽跑。他在籬笆裡頭小跑，就像圍場裡的一匹小馬駒，眼睛老盯著我的小馬，但沒說一句話。到了花園的角上，他不得不停下來；我繼續打馬前行，回過頭去見他像塊木樁似地站著，仰著腦袋，目光追逐著我，酷似小馬駒離開母馬的神態。我頻頻向他揮手，開始他無所反應，繼而突然高高揚起一隻手臂，就像一支矗立的長矛。可惜他再沒有舉第二回。 卡曼坦在復活節的禮拜日上午返回莊園，交給我一封醫生寫來的信，內稱患者大有好轉，基本痊癒了。他一定知道信中的部分內容，在我讀信時，他凝視著我的臉，但又無意向我談他的身體狀況，他心中有更重要的事哩。他總是很含蓄地保持著他的尊嚴，可這回卻神采飛揚，透著抑制不住的勝利的喜悅。 所有的土著對急劇的效果具有強烈的意識。卡曼坦仔細地用舊繃帶把他的雙腿從下包到膝蓋，存心要讓我大吃一驚。很顯然，他不是從自己幸運的角度來看待這一激動人心的時刻，而是出自忘我，願給我以歡樂。也許，他依然記得我是怎樣一次次因治療失敗而陷入苦惱的，他也深知醫院的療效是令人驚喜的。他慢慢地、一層一層地揭開繃帶，從膝蓋到腳踝展現出一雙平滑的小腿，只有幾塊淡淡的灰色傷疤。 當他以其特有的冷靜態度，足足讓我樂不可支之後，又一次令我高興得目瞪口呆。他宣布他已經是基督教徒了！I like you!他說，又補充說他想我會獎他一個盧比，因為這一天恰巧是基督升天之日。 他轉身離開，去拜望自己的親友。他的母親是個寡婦，住在離莊園很遠的地方。從事後我從他母親那裡聽到的情形來看，我相信那一天是他性格發生變化的轉折點。他對母親暢敘了醫院裡的奇人異事之後，回到了我這兒，好像他理所當然是屬於莊園的。此後，整整十二年，他一直是我的僕人，直至我離開肯亞。 我第一次遇到卡曼坦時，他看上去好像才六歲，可他有個兄弟好像已經八歲。他的兄弟們說他是老大，那麼，他起碼九歲了，一定是由於長期患病，他的發育才如此緩慢。現在他長大了，但給人的印象還是一個矮個兒，或者說在某些方面的發育有點畸形，雖然誰也說不確切。日復一日，他枯槁的臉圓潤了，走起路來也靈便多了。我並不認為他醜陋，但也許我是以創造者的目光審視他的。他的雙腿永遠細如木棍。他的形象總是令人疑惑，一半是滑稽，一半是魔鬼，稍加修飾，他完全可以坐在巴黎大教堂頂上俯視下界。他內心具有某些閃亮及充滿活力的東西，在一幅油畫中，他可以成為濃墨重彩、不同凡俗的一個斑點。基於此，他在我家庭的畫面上是別致的一筆。他的頭腦並非總是那麼清楚，至少在白人看來是異常古怪的。 卡曼坦是一個富於思想的人。也許他常年在磨難中生活，養成了一種對一切事物的反應能力以及作出自己結論的習慣。他一生都是一個孤獨的特殊人物。即使他和別人做一樣的事，其方式也是與眾不同的。 我為莊園的農民辦了一所夜校，有個土著教師執教。我從教會輪流聘請教員。我在的時候，那三家教會羅馬天主教會、英格蘭教會、蘇格蘭教會都曾派教師來過。肯亞土著教育在宗教界很活躍。據我所知，那時除《聖經》和讚美詩集子外，還沒有什麼書被譯成斯瓦希里語。我在非洲期間，曾計劃翻譯《伊索寓言》，但總抽不出時間實現這一計劃。儘管如此，夜校對我來說，不失為莊園的一塊樂土、我們精神生活的核心。我在這狹長的瓦楞鐵頂的倉房裡，不知度過了多少美好的夜晚。 卡曼坦到時候與我一起來夜校，但他不和其他孩子一道坐在課椅上。他站得稍遠，似乎有意識地捂住耳朵不聽講課。他為這些孩子的純真而感到歡欣，他們是心甘情願被送來聽講的。我曾見到卡曼坦一個人在廚房裡，鄭重地、慢慢地回憶、摹寫他在夜校黑板上看見過的字母和數字。我心裡明白，他不會和其他人一起上夜校，即便他很想上。在他生活的早年，他內心有些東西是扭曲的，或封閉的；而現在，可以說正常的事也非正常了。他以自己孤傲的心靈感覺到這種隔膜。當他發覺自己與整個世界不協調時，便認定世界是扭曲的。 卡曼坦在錢上挺精明。他花銷很少，曾與其他吉庫尤人做了一系列合算的羊交易。他早早完婚；婚事在吉庫尤世界裡是十分昂貴的。我聽到過他對錢財之無價值發表的頗有哲理的、高妙的見解。從總體來說，他與存在保持著奇異的關係，他能駕馭存在，卻並不看重存在。 他的天性裡缺乏欽佩。他承認、讚賞動物的智慧，但在我與他相識的全部時日裡，我只聽到過他稱讚過一個人。那是一個索馬利亞少婦，曾在莊園裡居住過。他在任何環境裡，特別是面對他人的自信與自誇時，常常發出一種輕輕的嘲笑。所有的土著對於事情出了毛病或失敗，總是怨天尤人或幸災樂鍋，這使歐洲人很反感，也很傷感情。卡曼坦則將這種個性發展到登峰造極的地步，甚而至於自我嘲諷，無論是對別人或他自己的挫折、患難，他都異乎尋常地高興。 我發現吉庫尤老年婦女也有這種心理。她們曾多次被篝火灼傷，累受命運的創傷。無論何時何處遇到命運的捉弄，總是萬般情願，好像這種命運是其他姐妹的。在莊園裡，我常讓小男僕在禮拜天早晨向老太太們出售鼻煙，每逢這個時候，往往我還沒起床，房子四周就有不少顧客擁著擠著，儼然一個陳舊的、亂哄哄的、光禿禿、乾巴巴的家禽飼養場。她們壓低嗓門嘀嘀咕咕土著很少高聲喧嘩從開著的窗戶傳進我的臥室。有一個禮拜日早上，吉庫尤人輕柔、活潑的交談聲突然升調，變為歡樂的潺潺流水、嘩嘩的瀑布般的音調。屋外準有可笑的事情發生了。我把法拉赫叫進來詢問。他不太願意跟我直說，因為這一切是由於他忘記買進鼻煙引起的。老太太們從老遠趕來，撲了個空。這件事後來成了她們取笑的話柄。有時我在玉米田的小路上遇到一個老太太，她也會直挺挺地站到我面前，對我伸出一根尖細彎曲的手指，黝黑、蒼老的臉上堆起笑容，皺紋都縮在一起，好像被一根神祕的線繃著。她準告訴我，那個星期天她和老姐妹們一起，走了多麼長的路到我那兒尋覓鼻煙，結果我忘了採購，連點煙末都沒買到哈哈，姆沙布！ 白人常抱怨吉庫尤人不懂感恩。可卡曼坦絕不是那種不知報答的人，他甚至在言談話語中就表達了自己的感恩之意。我們相識多年後，他曾一次又一次別出心裁地為我做一些我並未要求過他的事。我問他為什麼這麼做，他說，要不是我，他早就死了。當然，他也用別的方式表達謝意。他對我特別仁慈，特別樂於幫忙，或者更準確地說，他對我特別克制。也許他心中念念不忘我與他是歸屬同一宗教的。在愚人世界裡，對他來說，我是白癡之一。自從他來我這裡當僕人，將他的命運依附於我，我感到他那雙專致的、富於洞察力的眼睛在注視著我，期待著清晰、公正的批評。我相信，從一開始，他就將我為他治病所經受的煩難視作一種毫無希望的古怪舉動。但他不論何時總對我表示出莫大的興趣與同情，他竭盡全力引導我走出無知的境地。在有些場合，我發現他對問題進行長時間的思考，並且細心，解釋他的指點，以便使我更容易理解。 卡曼坦在我莊園上的僕人生涯始自照管家犬，以後又成為我看病的助手。我這才發現他的雙手是怎樣的靈巧，雖然那雙手從外表看很難使人得出這種印象。之後，我派他進廚房當老廚師愛薩的幫手，愛薩被人殺害後，他取而代之，一直是我的廚師。 土著通常對動物的感情很淡漠，但卡曼坦卻與眾不同，他在其他方面也是如此。他堪稱養狗專家，與我家的幾隻狗相處得很融洽，還經常向我通風報信狗在想些什麼，想要些什麼，或對外界有什麼反應，等等。他養的狗從不長虱子。不知有多少回，我與他半夜裡被狗的嗥叫驚醒，然後藉著一盞防風燈的光亮，從狗群身上一個個地把希亞福非洲大螞蟻捉下來。希亞福專注地向前繼續進軍，一路上遇到什麼就吃什麼。 卡曼坦在教會醫院住院時，也一定是留心觀察哪怕是與他直接有關的事，他也既不敬畏、亦無成見他是個愛動腦筋、有創造才能的醫生助手。離開診療所後，他還常常從廚房裡過來，參與診治，向我提供很有益的建議。 但作為廚師，他又判若兩人。在他身上，自然力向前飛躍了一步，擺脫了才能與天賦的序列限制。事情變得神祕、不可思議猶如你與天才打交道那樣。在廚房，在烹飪世界，卡曼坦具有天才的一切稟賦，甚至天才的厄運在自己的力量面前卻無能為力。如果卡曼坦生在歐洲，並師承明智者，他極可能成為名人，以怪才留名青史。而在非洲的此時此地，他鶴立雞群，在自己這門做飯的藝術上，堪稱大家。 我對烹飪頗有興趣，我第一次返回歐洲遊歷時，曾在一家有名的飯館拜法國名廚師為師，學習掌灶。我覺得，在非洲能做一手好飯菜，是很有意思的。由於我對烹調藝術這麼入迷，名廚師皮羅切特破例允許我與他合營飯館。現在，眼前的卡曼坦也如此熱衷此道，不禁又勾起我的興致。與他合作，證明了我眼光之遠大。我想，沒有什麼能比這種對掌勺兒的藝術如醉如癡更神奇的了。不管怎麼說，它在某些方面是神授的、命中註定的。我覺得就像一個重新皈依上帝的人，顱相學者向他指出人類頭腦中神學理論的位置；如果神學理論得到驗證，那麼，神學本身就能成立，最終，上帝的存在也就確定無疑。 卡曼坦的手在烹調上之靈巧令人驚奇。廚房裡那些訣竅、門道，那些絕技，對他這雙黑黝黝、彎曲的手，如同變戲法一般。這雙手無師自通，精於炒雞蛋、烙餡餅、調鹵汁、製蛋黃醬。他具有一種特殊的化繁為簡的天賦，就像傳說耶穌小時候用粘土捏成小鳥，讓牠們飛上天一樣。他把所有複雜的炊具都不放在眼裡，似乎老用這些東西很不耐煩。我給他一個打蛋器，他擱在一邊任其生鏽，而將我修整草坪用的除野草的刀子拿來打蛋白。他打出的蛋白蓬鬆高聳，好像一片片輕巧的白雲彩。作為廚師，他的眼光銳利，極其敏感，他能一眼挑出養雞場裡最肥的雞。他用手掂一下雞蛋，就能知道是什麼時候下的。他琢磨出一整套改善伙食的方案，還通過某些關係從遠方一位替醫生幹活的朋友那裡，為我弄來了正宗萵苣種籽，而這正是我多年來未能覓到的優良品種。 他對食譜的記憶力極強。他不識字，也不懂英語，那些烹飪書對他毫無幫助，他一定是運用自己特殊的系統化方式對此我永遠無從懂得將學到的一切儲存在他那其貌不揚的腦袋之中。他將每道菜都起了一個與請客時節有關聯的名字。他稱有的鹵汁為劈樹的閃電，有的則冠以死去的灰馬。奇妙的是他從不將這些東西混淆。只有一樣，我試圖讓他記住但未成功，那就是每頓飯上菜的次序。為此，在晚宴前我必須給我的廚師畫一張示意圖：第一是湯，第二是魚，第三是鷓鴣或洋薊。我不太相信卡曼坦的這一失誤是記憶缺陷所致，我覺得，他心中肯定堅持認為一切事物都有限度，在那些無足輕重的事情上，不必浪費自己的時間。 與一個怪才共事是令人激奮的。名義上，這廚房是我的，但在我們合作的過程中，我感覺到不僅是廚房，而且整個我們合作的世界，都轉移到了卡曼坦手中。在這裡，他透澈地理解我對他的希望，有時不等我說出來，他就把我的願望變成了現實。但是說句實話，他究竟怎樣或為什麼幹得如此出色，我還不得而知。一個人能在一門藝術上如此出類拔萃，可實際上他並不真正理解這門藝術的真諦，而且對它除了輕蔑之外，毫無感情可言，這真令我莫名其妙。 卡曼坦可能對我們歐洲菜的味道究竟應該如何沒有概念。儘管他的言談，他與文明的連繫，並不遜色，可從心靈上來說，他畢竟是不折不扣的吉庫尤人，紮根於自己部族的傳統，紮根於他對傳統的信念，這是唯一有價值的做人之道。他有時也品嘗自己烹製的飯菜，但臉色馬上變得充滿懷疑，就像一個巫婆從自己的煮皂大鍋裡蘸一點巫水嘗嘗。他專愛吃土著祖傳的食物玉米。在這方面，他有時也會忘乎所以，給我送來一份吉庫尤風味烤白薯或一團羊脂，活脫一條文明的狗，長期與人相處，會銜一塊骨頭來放在地板上作為禮物。我感覺得出，他在心靈深處將我們極端講究地烹調食品視作絕頂愚蠢的行為。有時我試圖從他嘴裡套出他對這些事情的看法，但每次都沒有結果。雖然他在許多問題上都極為坦率，但在某些方面又守口如瓶。這樣，我們在廚房裡充分合作，求同存異而各自對烹飪的看法就束之高閣，不去論它了。 我曾派卡曼坦去馬莎依加俱樂部、我奈洛比朋友們的廚師那裡學習只要我發現他們那裡有道新鮮菜。所以在他當廚期間，我家在整個殖民地總是以美味佳肴著稱。這使我無比愉快。我渴望有人品嘗我的藝術，很高興有朋友來共進晚餐。卡曼坦卻對任何人的讚譽都不動心。不過，他能記住常來吃飯的朋友們各自的口味。我給伯克里．考爾先生做白葡萄酒燉魚，他說得很嚴肅，似乎說的是一個狂人，他給你送來了燉魚的酒。為了得到權威的意見，我邀請我的老友、奈洛比的布爾帕特先生來莊園吃飯。他是老一輩的大旅行家，費尼思．福格家族的後裔。他周遊全世界，遍嘗各地美食佳肴，他從不為未來傷腦筋，只要現在能盡情享受。五十年前的體育及登山書籍，敘述了他運動家的業績，也談到過他在瑞士和墨西哥的登山壯舉。有一本專述打賭之最的書《來得容易去得快》，可以讀到他為了打賭怎樣穿著晚禮服、戴著高帽子橫渡泰晤士河繼而又更浪漫地暢遊達達尼爾海峽，像林達爾、拜倫那樣。我是多麼高興他來莊園與我共進私人晚餐。為一個你十分崇拜的人物奉獻親手製作的佳肴，怎麼不令人興奮呢！作為酬謝，他談論起對飯菜以及其他世事的見解。他告訴我，他在別處從未吃到過比這更好的晚餐。 威爾斯王子駕臨莊園晚宴，是我的極大榮耀。他對坎伯蘭鹵汁大加讚賞。這是唯一的一次，我向卡曼坦轉達王子對他手藝的表揚時，他興致勃勃地聽著，十分入神。土著對國王不勝景仰，也喜歡談論他們。好幾個月以後，卡曼坦還很想再聽聽王子的讚揚，突然問我，就像法語讀本的句子那樣：那個蘇丹王的兒子喜歡豬肉湯麼？他全喝下去了麼？ 卡曼坦在廚房之外，也處處表現出對我的關心。根據他對生活中的禍福利害的特有觀念與判斷，他總是願意助我一臂之力的。 一天夜裡，午夜之後，他突然躡手躡腳地走進我的臥室，手裡提著一盞防風燈，好像在巡夜一般。那還是來我家幫工不久的事，他還很小，站在我床邊就像一隻迷失方向的黑蝙蝠飛了進來，一雙大耳朵張開著，又像是一小簇非洲磷火那盞小燈。他講話的神情特別嚴肅。 姆沙布，他說，我想你最好起來。 我起身坐在床上，十分窘迫。我想，要是有什麼大事發生，該是法拉赫來接我。可我第二次讓他離開時，他仍站在那兒。 姆沙布，他又說，我想你最好起來。我想是上帝來了。