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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Конец рабства
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- Стр. 34/95
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Some
of
these
fragments
of
land
appeared
,
indeed
,
no
bigger
than
a
stranded
ship
;
others
,
quite
flat
,
lay
awash
like
anchored
rafts
,
like
ponderous
,
black
rafts
of
stone
;
several
,
heavily
timbered
and
round
at
the
base
,
emerged
in
squat
domes
of
deep
green
foliage
that
shuddered
darkly
all
over
to
the
flying
touch
of
cloud
shadows
driven
by
the
sudden
gusts
of
the
squally
season
.
The
thunderstorms
of
the
coast
broke
frequently
over
that
cluster
;
it
turned
then
shadowy
in
its
whole
extent
;
it
turned
more
dark
,
and
as
if
more
still
in
the
play
of
fire
;
as
if
more
impenetrably
silent
in
the
peals
of
thunder
;
its
blurred
shapes
vanished
--
dissolving
utterly
at
times
in
the
thick
rain
--
to
reappear
clear-cut
and
black
in
the
stormy
light
against
the
gray
sheet
of
the
cloud
--
scattered
on
the
slaty
round
table
of
the
sea
.
Unscathed
by
storms
,
resisting
the
work
of
years
,
unfretted
by
the
strife
of
the
world
,
there
it
lay
unchanged
as
on
that
day
,
four
hundred
years
ago
,
when
first
beheld
by
Western
eyes
from
the
deck
of
a
high-pooped
caravel
.
It
was
one
of
these
secluded
spots
that
may
be
found
on
the
busy
sea
,
as
on
land
you
come
sometimes
upon
the
clustered
houses
of
a
hamlet
untouched
by
men
's
restlessness
,
untouched
by
their
need
,
by
their
thought
,
and
as
if
forgotten
by
time
itself
.
The
lives
of
uncounted
generations
had
passed
it
by
,
and
the
multitudes
of
seafowl
,
urging
their
way
from
all
the
points
of
the
horizon
to
sleep
on
the
outer
rocks
of
the
group
,
unrolled
the
converging
evolutions
of
their
flight
in
long
somber
streamers
upon
the
glow
of
the
sky
.
The
palpitating
cloud
of
their
wings
soared
and
stooped
over
the
pinnacles
of
the
rocks
,
over
the
rocks
slender
like
spires
,
squat
like
martello
towers
;
over
the
pyramidal
heaps
like
fallen
ruins
,
over
the
lines
of
bald
bowlders
showing
like
a
wall
of
stones
battered
to
pieces
and
scorched
by
lightning
--
with
the
sleepy
,
clear
glimmer
of
water
in
every
breach
.
The
noise
of
their
continuous
and
violent
screaming
filled
the
air
.
This
great
noise
would
meet
the
Sofala
coming
up
from
Batu
Beru
;
it
would
meet
her
on
quiet
evenings
,
a
pitiless
and
savage
clamor
enfeebled
by
distance
,
the
clamor
of
seabirds
settling
to
rest
,
and
struggling
for
a
footing
at
the
end
of
the
day
.
No
one
noticed
it
especially
on
board
;
it
was
the
voice
of
their
ship
's
unerring
landfall
,
ending
the
steady
stretch
of
a
hundred
miles
.
She
had
made
good
her
course
,
she
had
run
her
distance
till
the
punctual
islets
began
to
emerge
one
by
one
,
the
points
of
rocks
,
the
hummocks
of
earth
...
and
the
cloud
of
birds
hovered
--
the
restless
cloud
emitting
a
strident
and
cruel
uproar
,
the
sound
of
the
familiar
scene
,
the
living
part
of
the
broken
land
beneath
,
of
the
outspread
sea
,
and
of
the
high
sky
without
a
flaw
.
But
when
the
Sofala
happened
to
close
with
the
land
after
sunset
she
would
find
everything
very
still
there
under
the
mantle
of
the
night
.
All
would
be
still
,
dumb
,
almost
invisible
--
but
for
the
blotting
out
of
the
low
constellations
occulted
in
turns
behind
the
vague
masses
of
the
islets
whose
true
outlines
eluded
the
eye
amongst
the
dark
spaces
of
the
heaven
:
and
the
ship
's
three
lights
,
resembling
three
stars
--
the
red
and
the
green
with
the
white
above
--
her
three
lights
,
like
three
companion
stars
wandering
on
the
earth
,
held
their
unswerving
course
for
the
passage
at
the
southern
end
of
the
group
.
Sometimes
there
were
human
eyes
open
to
watch
them
come
nearer
,
traveling
smoothly
in
the
somber
void
;
the
eyes
of
a
naked
fisherman
in
his
canoe
floating
over
a
reef
.
He
thought
drowsily
:
"
Ha
!
The
fire-ship
that
once
in
every
moon
goes
in
and
comes
out
of
Pangu
bay
.
"
More
he
did
not
know
of
her
.
And
just
as
he
had
detected
the
faint
rhythm
of
the
propeller
beating
the
calm
water
a
mile
and
a
half
away
,
the
time
would
come
for
the
Sofala
to
alter
her
course
,
the
lights
would
swing
off
him
their
triple
beam
--
and
disappear
.
A
few
miserable
,
half-naked
families
,
a
sort
of
outcast
tribe
of
long-haired
,
lean
,
and
wild-eyed
people
,
strove
for
their
living
in
this
lonely
wilderness
of
islets
,
lying
like
an
abandoned
outwork
of
the
land
at
the
gates
of
the
bay
.
Within
the
knots
and
loops
of
the
rocks
the
water
rested
more
transparent
than
crystal
under
their
crooked
and
leaky
canoes
,
scooped
out
of
the
trunk
of
a
tree
:
the
forms
of
the
bottom
undulated
slightly
to
the
dip
of
a
paddle
;
and
the
men
seemed
to
hang
in
the
air
,
they
seemed
to
hang
inclosed
within
the
fibers
of
a
dark
,
sodden
log
,
fishing
patiently
in
a
strange
,
unsteady
,
pellucid
,
green
air
above
the
shoals
.
Their
bodies
stalked
brown
and
emaciated
as
if
dried
up
in
the
sunshine
;
their
lives
ran
out
silently
;
the
homes
where
they
were
born
,
went
to
rest
,
and
died
--
flimsy
sheds
of
rushes
and
coarse
grass
eked
out
with
a
few
ragged
mats
--
were
hidden
out
of
sight
from
the
open
sea
.
No
glow
of
their
household
fires
ever
kindled
for
a
seaman
a
red
spark
upon
the
blind
night
of
the
group
:
and
the
calms
of
the
coast
,
the
flaming
long
calms
of
the
equator
,
the
unbreathing
,
concentrated
calms
like
the
deep
introspection
of
a
passionate
nature
,
brooded
awfully
for
days
and
weeks
together
over
the
unchangeable
inheritance
of
their
children
;
till
at
last
the
stones
,
hot
like
live
embers
,
scorched
the
naked
sole
,
till
the
water
clung
warm
,
and
sickly
,
and
as
if
thickened
,
about
the
legs
of
lean
men
with
girded
loins
,
wading
thigh-deep
in
the
pale
blaze
of
the
shallows
.
And
it
would
happen
now
and
then
that
the
Sofala
,
through
some
delay
in
one
of
the
ports
of
call
,
would
heave
in
sight
making
for
Pangu
bay
as
late
as
noonday
.
Only
a
blurring
cloud
at
first
,
the
thin
mist
of
her
smoke
would
arise
mysteriously
from
an
empty
point
on
the
clear
line
of
sea
and
sky
.
