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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 410/416
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To
a
certain
degree
it
had
been
the
desire
of
observing
the
working
of
his
system
of
handling
the
wheat
in
bulk
that
had
drawn
S
.
Behrman
to
Port
Costa
.
But
the
more
powerful
motive
had
been
curiosity
,
not
to
say
downright
sentiment
.
So
long
had
he
planned
for
this
day
of
triumph
,
so
eagerly
had
he
looked
forward
to
it
,
that
now
,
when
it
had
come
,
he
wished
to
enjoy
it
to
its
fullest
extent
,
wished
to
miss
no
feature
of
the
disposal
of
the
crop
.
He
had
watched
it
harvested
,
he
had
watched
it
hauled
to
the
railway
,
and
now
would
watch
it
as
it
poured
into
the
hold
of
the
ship
,
would
even
watch
the
ship
as
she
cleared
and
got
under
way
.
He
passed
through
the
warehouses
and
came
out
upon
the
dock
that
ran
parallel
with
the
shore
of
the
bay
.
A
great
quantity
of
shipping
was
in
view
,
barques
for
the
most
part
,
Cape
Horners
,
great
,
deep
sea
tramps
,
whose
iron
-
shod
forefeet
had
parted
every
ocean
the
world
round
from
Rangoon
to
Rio
Janeiro
,
and
from
Melbourne
to
Christiania
.
Some
were
still
in
the
stream
,
loaded
with
wheat
to
the
Plimsoll
mark
,
ready
to
depart
with
the
next
tide
.
But
many
others
laid
their
great
flanks
alongside
the
docks
and
at
that
moment
were
being
filled
by
derrick
and
crane
with
thousands
upon
thousands
of
bags
of
wheat
.
The
scene
was
brisk
;
the
cranes
creaked
and
swung
incessantly
with
a
rattle
of
chains
;
stevedores
and
wharfingers
toiled
and
perspired
;
boatswains
and
dock
-
masters
shouted
orders
,
drays
rumbled
,
the
water
lapped
at
the
piles
;
a
group
of
sailors
,
painting
the
flanks
of
one
of
the
great
ships
,
raised
an
occasional
chanty
;
the
trade
wind
sang
aeolian
in
the
cordages
,
filling
the
air
with
the
nimble
taint
of
salt
.
All
around
were
the
noises
of
ships
and
the
feel
and
flavor
of
the
sea
.
S
.
Behrman
soon
discovered
his
elevator
.
It
was
the
largest
structure
discernible
,
and
upon
its
red
roof
,
in
enormous
white
letters
,
was
his
own
name
.
Thither
,
between
piles
of
grain
bags
,
halted
drays
,
crates
and
boxes
of
merchandise
,
with
an
occasional
pyramid
of
salmon
cases
,
S
.
Behrman
took
his
way
.
Cabled
to
the
dock
,
close
under
his
elevator
,
lay
a
great
ship
with
lofty
masts
and
great
spars
.
Her
stern
was
toward
him
as
he
approached
,
and
upon
it
,
in
raised
golden
letters
,
he
could
read
the
words
“
Swanhilda
—
Liverpool
.
”
He
went
aboard
by
a
very
steep
gangway
and
found
the
mate
on
the
quarter
deck
.
S
.
Behrman
introduced
himself
.
“
Well
,
”
he
added
,
“
how
are
you
getting
on
?
”
“
Very
fairly
,
sir
,
”
returned
the
mate
,
who
was
an
Englishman
.
“
We
’
ll
have
her
all
snugged
down
tight
by
this
time
,
day
after
to
-
morrow
.
It
’
s
a
great
saving
of
time
shunting
the
stuff
in
her
like
that
,
and
three
men
can
do
the
work
of
seven
.
”
“
I
’
ll
have
a
look
’
round
,
I
believe
,
”
returned
S
.
Behrman
.
“
Right
—
oh
,
”
answered
the
mate
with
a
nod
.
S
.
Behrman
went
forward
to
the
hatch
that
opened
down
into
the
vast
hold
of
the
ship
.
