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- Джек Лондон
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- Стр. 199/210
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Meat
was
good
to
eat
.
In
the
end
,
tracing
it
back
,
or
at
the
first
,
rather
,
all
meat
came
from
grass
.
The
meat
of
the
duck
and
of
the
blackbird
came
from
the
seed
of
the
swamp
rice
.
To
kill
a
duck
with
an
arrow
scarce
paid
for
the
labour
of
stalking
and
the
long
hours
in
hiding
.
The
blackbirds
were
too
small
for
arrow-killing
save
by
the
boys
who
were
learning
and
preparing
for
the
taking
of
larger
game
.
And
yet
,
in
rice
season
,
blackbirds
and
ducks
were
succulently
fat
.
Their
fatness
came
from
the
rice
.
Why
should
I
and
mine
not
be
fat
from
the
rice
in
the
same
way
?
And
I
thought
it
out
in
camp
,
silent
,
morose
,
while
the
children
squabbled
about
me
unnoticed
,
and
while
Arunga
,
my
mate-woman
,
vainly
scolded
me
and
urged
me
to
go
hunting
for
more
meat
for
the
many
of
us
.
Arunga
was
the
woman
I
had
stolen
from
the
hill-tribes
.
She
and
I
had
been
a
dozen
moons
in
learning
common
speech
after
I
captured
her
.
Ah
,
that
day
when
I
leaped
upon
her
,
down
from
the
over-hanging
tree-branch
as
she
padded
the
runway
!
Fairly
upon
her
shoulders
with
the
weight
of
my
body
I
smote
her
,
my
fingers
wide-spreading
to
clutch
her
.
She
squalled
like
a
cat
there
in
the
runway
.
She
fought
me
and
bit
me
.
The
nails
of
her
hands
were
like
the
claws
of
a
tree-cat
as
they
tore
at
me
.
But
I
held
her
and
mastered
her
,
and
for
two
days
beat
her
and
forced
her
to
travel
with
me
down
out
of
the
canyons
of
the
Hill-Men
to
the
grass
lands
where
the
river
flowed
through
the
rice-swamps
and
the
ducks
and
the
blackbirds
fed
fat
.
I
saw
my
vision
when
the
rice
was
ripe
.
I
put
Arunga
in
the
bow
of
the
fire-hollowed
log
that
was
most
rudely
a
canoe
.
I
bade
her
paddle
.
In
the
stern
I
spread
a
deerskin
she
had
tanned
.
With
two
stout
sticks
I
bent
the
stalks
over
the
deerskin
and
threshed
out
the
grain
that
else
the
blackbirds
would
have
eaten
.
And
when
I
had
worked
out
the
way
of
it
,
I
gave
the
two
stout
sticks
to
Arunga
,
and
sat
in
the
bow
paddling
and
directing
.
In
the
past
we
had
eaten
the
raw
rice
in
passing
and
not
been
pleased
with
it
.
But
now
we
parched
it
over
our
fire
so
that
the
grains
puffed
and
exploded
in
whiteness
and
all
the
tribe
came
running
to
taste
.
After
that
we
became
known
among
men
as
the
Rice-Eaters
and
as
the
Sons
of
the
Rice
.
And
long
,
long
after
,
when
we
were
driven
by
the
Sons
of
the
River
from
the
swamps
into
the
uplands
,
we
took
the
seed
of
the
rice
with
us
and
planted
it
.
We
learned
to
select
the
largest
grains
for
the
seed
,
so
that
all
the
rice
we
thereafter
ate
was
larger-grained
and
puffier
in
the
parching
and
the
boiling
.
But
Arunga
.
I
have
said
she
squalled
and
scratched
like
a
cat
when
I
stole
her
.
Yet
I
remember
the
time
when
her
own
kin
of
the
Hill-Men
caught
me
and
carried
me
away
into
the
hills
.
They
were
her
father
,
his
brother
,
and
her
two
own
blood-brothers
.
But
she
was
mine
,
who
had
lived
with
me
.
And
at
night
,
where
I
lay
bound
like
a
wild
pig
for
the
slaying
,
and
they
slept
weary
by
the
fire
,
she
crept
upon
them
and
brained
them
with
the
war-club
that
with
my
hands
I
had
fashioned
.
And
she
wept
over
me
,
and
loosed
me
,
and
fled
with
me
,
back
to
the
wide
sluggish
river
where
the
blackbirds
and
wild
ducks
fed
in
the
rice
swamps
--
for
this
was
before
the
time
of
the
coming
of
the
Sons
of
the
River
.
For
she
was
Arunga
,
the
one
woman
,
the
eternal
woman
.
She
has
lived
in
all
times
and
places
.
She
will
always
live
.
She
is
immortal
.
Once
,
in
a
far
land
,
her
name
was
Ruth
.
Also
has
her
name
been
Iseult
,
and
Helen
,
Pocahontas
,
and
Unga
.
And
no
stranger
man
,
from
stranger
tribes
,
but
has
found
her
and
will
find
her
in
the
tribes
of
all
the
earth
.
