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- Генри Хаггард
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- Копи царя Соломона
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King Solomon's Mines
It
is
a
curious
thing
that
at
my
age
--
fifty-five
last
birthday
--
I
should
find
myself
taking
up
a
pen
to
try
to
write
a
history
.
I
wonder
what
sort
of
a
history
it
will
be
when
I
have
finished
it
,
if
ever
I
come
to
the
end
of
the
trip
!
I
have
done
a
good
many
things
in
my
life
,
which
seems
a
long
one
to
me
,
owing
to
my
having
begun
work
so
young
,
perhaps
.
At
an
age
when
other
boys
are
at
school
I
was
earning
my
living
as
a
trader
in
the
old
Colony
.
I
have
been
trading
,
hunting
,
fighting
,
or
mining
ever
since
.
And
yet
it
is
only
eight
months
ago
that
I
made
my
pile
.
It
is
a
big
pile
now
that
I
have
got
it
--
I
do
n't
yet
know
how
big
--
but
I
do
not
think
I
would
go
through
the
last
fifteen
or
sixteen
months
again
for
it
;
no
,
not
if
I
knew
that
I
should
come
out
safe
at
the
end
,
pile
and
all
.
But
then
I
am
a
timid
man
,
and
dislike
violence
;
moreover
,
I
am
almost
sick
of
adventure
.
I
wonder
why
I
am
going
to
write
this
book
:
it
is
not
in
my
line
.
I
am
not
a
literary
man
,
though
very
devoted
to
the
Old
Testament
and
also
to
the
"
Ingoldsby
Legends
.
"
Let
me
try
to
set
down
my
reasons
,
just
to
see
if
I
have
any
.
First
reason
:
Because
Sir
Henry
Curtis
and
Captain
John
Good
asked
me
.
Second
reason
:
Because
I
am
laid
up
here
at
Durban
with
the
pain
in
my
left
leg
.
Ever
since
that
confounded
lion
got
hold
of
me
I
have
been
liable
to
this
trouble
,
and
being
rather
bad
just
now
,
it
makes
me
limp
more
than
ever
.
There
must
be
some
poison
in
a
lion
's
teeth
,
otherwise
how
is
it
that
when
your
wounds
are
healed
they
break
out
again
,
generally
,
mark
you
,
at
the
same
time
of
year
that
you
got
your
mauling
?
It
is
a
hard
thing
when
one
has
shot
sixty-five
lions
or
more
,
as
I
have
in
the
course
of
my
life
,
that
the
sixty-sixth
should
chew
your
leg
like
a
quid
of
tobacco
.
It
breaks
the
routine
of
the
thing
,
and
putting
other
considerations
aside
,
I
am
an
orderly
man
and
do
n't
like
that
.
This
is
by
the
way
.
Third
reason
:
Because
I
want
my
boy
Harry
,
who
is
over
there
at
the
hospital
in
London
studying
to
become
a
doctor
,
to
have
something
to
amuse
him
and
keep
him
out
of
mischief
for
a
week
or
so
.
Hospital
work
must
sometimes
pall
and
grow
rather
dull
,
for
even
of
cutting
up
dead
bodies
there
may
come
satiety
,
and
as
this
history
will
not
be
dull
,
whatever
else
it
may
be
,
it
will
put
a
little
life
into
things
for
a
day
or
two
while
Harry
is
reading
of
our
adventures
.
Fourth
reason
and
last
:
Because
I
am
going
to
tell
the
strangest
story
that
I
remember
.
It
may
seem
a
queer
thing
to
say
,
especially
considering
that
there
is
no
woman
in
it
--
except
Foulata
.
Stop
,
though
!
there
is
Gagaoola
,
if
she
was
a
woman
,
and
not
a
fiend
.
But
she
was
a
hundred
at
least
,
and
therefore
not
marriageable
,
so
I
do
n't
count
her
.
At
any
rate
,
I
can
safely
say
that
there
is
not
a
petticoat
in
the
whole
history
.
Well
,
I
had
better
come
to
the
yoke
.
It
is
a
stiff
place
,
and
I
feel
as
though
I
were
bogged
up
to
the
axle
.
But
,
"
sutjes
,
sutjes
,
"
as
the
Boers
say
--
I
am
sure
I
do
n't
know
how
they
spell
it
--
softly
does
it
.
A
strong
team
will
come
through
at
last
,
that
is
,
if
they
are
not
too
poor
.
You
can
never
do
anything
with
poor
oxen
.
Now
to
make
a
start
.
I
,
Allan
Quatermain
,
of
Durban
,
Natal
,
Gentleman
,
make
oath
and
say
--
That
's
how
I
headed
my
deposition
before
the
magistrate
about
poor
Khiva
's
and
Ventvögel
's
sad
deaths
;
but
somehow
it
does
n't
seem
quite
the
right
way
to
begin
a
book
.
And
,
besides
,
am
I
a
gentleman
?
What
is
a
gentleman
?
I
do
n't
quite
know
,
and
yet
I
have
had
to
do
with
niggers
--
no
,
I
will
scratch
out
that
word
"
niggers
,
"
for
I
do
not
like
it
.
I
've
known
natives
who
are
,
and
so
you
will
say
,
Harry
,
my
boy
,
before
you
have
done
with
this
tale
,
and
I
have
known
mean
whites
with
lots
of
money
and
fresh
out
from
home
,
too
,
who
are
not
.
At
any
rate
,
I
was
born
a
gentleman
,
though
I
have
been
nothing
but
a
poor
travelling
trader
and
hunter
all
my
life
.
Whether
I
have
remained
so
I
known
not
,
you
must
judge
of
that
.
Heaven
knows
I
've
tried
.
I
have
killed
many
men
in
my
time
,
yet
I
have
never
slain
wantonly
or
stained
my
hand
in
innocent
blood
,
but
only
in
self-defence
.
The
Almighty
gave
us
our
lives
,
and
I
suppose
He
meant
us
to
defend
them
,
at
least
I
have
always
acted
on
that
,
and
I
hope
it
will
not
be
brought
up
against
me
when
my
clock
strikes
.
There
,
there
,
it
is
a
cruel
and
a
wicked
world
,
and
for
a
timid
man
I
have
been
mixed
up
in
a
great
deal
of
fighting
.
I
can
not
tell
the
rights
of
it
,
but
at
any
rate
I
have
never
stolen
,
though
once
I
cheated
a
Kafir
out
of
a
herd
of
cattle
.
But
then
he
had
done
me
a
dirty
turn
,
and
it
has
troubled
me
ever
since
into
the
bargain
.
Well
,
it
is
eighteen
months
or
so
ago
since
first
I
met
Sir
Henry
Curtis
and
Captain
Good
.
It
was
in
this
way
.
I
had
been
up
elephant
hunting
beyond
Bamangwato
,
and
had
met
with
bad
luck
.
Everything
went
wrong
that
trip
,
and
to
top
up
with
I
got
the
fever
badly
.
So
soon
as
I
was
well
enough
I
trekked
down
to
the
Diamond
Fields
,
sold
such
ivory
as
I
had
,
together
with
my
wagon
and
oxen
,
discharged
my
hunters
,
and
took
the
post-cart
to
the
Cape
.
After
spending
a
week
in
Cape
Town
,
finding
that
they
overcharged
me
at
the
hotel
,
and
having
seen
everything
there
was
to
see
,
including
the
botanical
gardens
,
which
seem
to
me
likely
to
confer
a
great
benefit
on
the
country
,
and
the
new
Houses
of
Parliament
,
which
I
expect
will
do
nothing
of
the
sort
,
I
determined
to
go
back
to
Natal
by
the
Dunkeld
,
then
lying
at
the
docks
waiting
for
the
Edinburgh
Castle
due
in
from
England
.
I
took
my
berth
and
went
aboard
,
and
that
afternoon
the
Natal
passengers
from
the
Edinburgh
Castle
transhipped
,
and
we
weighed
and
put
to
sea
.
Among
these
passengers
who
came
on
board
were
two
who
excited
my
curiosity
.
One
,
a
gentleman
of
about
thirty
,
was
perhaps
the
biggest-chested
and
longest-armed
man
I
ever
saw
.
He
had
yellow
hair
,
a
thick
yellow
beard
,
clear-cut
features
,
and
large
grey
eyes
set
deep
in
his
head
.
I
never
saw
a
finer-looking
man
,
and
somehow
he
reminded
me
of
an
ancient
Dane
.
Not
that
I
know
much
of
ancient
Danes
,
though
I
knew
a
modern
Dane
who
did
me
out
of
ten
pounds
;
but
I
remember
once
seeing
a
picture
of
some
of
those
gentry
,
who
,
I
take
it
,
were
a
kind
of
white
Zulus
.
They
were
drinking
out
of
big
horns
,
and
their
long
hair
hung
down
their
backs
.
As
I
looked
at
my
friend
standing
there
by
the
companion-ladder
,
I
thought
that
if
he
only
let
his
grow
a
little
,
put
one
of
those
chain
shirts
on
to
his
great
shoulders
,
and
took
hold
of
a
battle-axe
and
a
horn
mug
,
he
might
have
sat
as
a
model
for
that
picture
.
And
by
the
way
it
is
a
curious
thing
,
and
just
shows
how
the
blood
will
out
,
I
discovered
afterwards
that
Sir
Henry
Curtis
,
for
that
was
the
big
man
's
name
,
is
of
Danish
blood
.
He
also
reminded
me
strongly
of
somebody
else
,
but
at
the
time
I
could
not
remember
who
it
was
.
