the days of my life-第80章
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f included; who did not fight like a wild…cat。 I am not even sure that I would not poison the wells if I were unable to get rid of the enemy in any other way。 What is the difference between killing a man with a drug and killing him with a bomb or by hunger and thirst? Patriotism is the first duty; and the thing is to be rid of him somehow and save your country。 However; this is a question on which I will not enter。
For the rest war brings forth many noble actions; and there can be no harm in teaching the young that their hands were given to them to defend their flag and their heads。 If once a nation forgets to learn that lesson it will very soon be called upon to write Finis beneath its history。 I fear that we; or some of us; are in that way now — or so I judge from the horror expressed upon every side at the doctrine that men should not grudge a year or so of their lives to be spent in learning the art of war。 If God gave us our homes; I presume that He meant for us to protect them!
I think that the next book I wrote after “Eric;” or at any rate the next that was printed; was “Nada the Lily;” which I began upon June 27; 1889; and finished on January 15; 1890。 It is pure Zulu story; and; as I believe I have said; I consider it my best or one of my best books。 At any rate; the following letter from my friend Rudyard Kipling seems to show that this story has one claim on the gratitude of the world。
Vermont; U。S。A。:
October 20; 1895。
Dear Haggard; — Watt has just forwarded me a letter addressed to you from a bee…keeping man ething of a jungle tale of mine。 I dare say it didn’t amuse you; but it made me chuckle a little and reminded me; incidentally; that the man was nearer the mark than he knew: for it was a chance sentence of yours in “Nada the Lily” that started me off on a track that ended in my writing a lot of wolf stories。 You remember in your tale where the wolves leaped up at the feet of a dead man sitting on a rock? Somewhere on that page I got the notion。 It’s curious how things e back again; isn’t it? I meant to tell you when we met; but I don’t remember that I ever did。
Yours always sincerely;
Rudyard Kipling。
Here are some extracts from Lang’s letters on the subject of “Nada。”
April 20th。
I read right through to Chaka’s death。 It is admirable; the epic of a dying people; but it wants relief。 Massacre palls。 The old boy (i。e。 the narrator of the story; Mopo) would have given no relief; naturally; but an idyll or two seem needed。 The style is as good as it can be; an invention。 I think a word or two more in the preface might be useful。 I have made a slight suggestion or so。 I like “Eric” better; but this is perhaps more singular。 How any white man can have such a natural gift of savagery; I don’t know。 The Wolves are astonishing。
Yours ever;
A。 L。
The next letter is undated; but was probably written within a day or two of that just quoted。
I’ve finished “Nada。” If all the reviewers in the world denied it; you can do the best sagas that have been done yet: except “Njala” perhaps。 Poor Nada! I hope it will be done into Zulu。 The old wolf Death…grip was a nice wolf。
May 13th。
Many thanks for the book。 You know exactly what I think of “B。” '“Beatrice”'; but I like your natural novels better a long way than your modern ones at the best; which this probably is。 Beatrice is all right when anything flares up; and all right when in the open air; but the Lady Honorias of this world are not in your beat nor mine。 。 。 。 But; oh; how much I prefer Galazi and Skallagrim to these moderns!
St。 Andrews: January 18th。
I’ll return “Nada” tomorrow。 The Wolves are the best thing of yours I know。 Indeed the unity of tone and savagery throughout are unique。 But there will be rows about the endless massacres。 I have no doubt a Zulu epic would be like this; but reviewers are not Zulus; worse luck。 I think that it is excellent; and quite alone in literature as a picture of a strange life。 But one knows the public。 It is far more veracious than “Eric;” and far less modern: also far less rhetorical。 Chaka is a masterpiece。 But I am a voice clamantis in eremo: people won’t understand。 The realien are awfully well done; no appearance of cram about them。
Lang was quite right about the reviewers。 They for the most part; not having mixed with savages; and never having heard of Chaka and only dimly of the Zulus — for by this time our war with that people was forgotten — saw little in the book except unnecessary bloodshed。 But there it is: a picture; as Lang says; “of a dying people。” I hope that hundreds of years hence the highly educated descendants of the Zulu race may read it and learn therefrom something of the spirit of their own savage ancestors。
I cannot find many letters about “Nada。” Here; however; is one from Charles Longman; dated May 14; 1890。
“Nada” strikes me with wonder and awe。 It is in some ways the greatest feat you have performed: I mean because you have constructed a story in which the dramatis personae are all savages and yet you have kept the interest going throughout。 There will of course be a terrible outcry about gore。 I never read such a book。 It is frightful; and the only justification for it is the fact that it is history; not imagination。 Wherever it is possible I would tone down the effect rather than heighten it; so as to avoid the charge of wallowing or gloating as far as possible。 The wolves and the wolf brethren are delightful; I wish you could have given us more of them。 I was very glad to meet our old friend Umslopogaas as a boy。
These two letters are from Sir Theophilus Shepstone to whom the work was dedicated。 The first is headed Durban; Natal; August 18; 1891。
My dear Haggard; — I was very; very glad to see your handwriting again in a note addressed to me。 For I know not how long past; I have never thought of you without a pang of conscience; and I need not say that I have often and often thought of you; and felt proud of you; and rejoiced at your success。
The truth is that for a time I had always the intention in my mind of writing to you; but I thought that a short note would not be worth sending; so the doing of it was postponed from one time to another until at last the difficulty became insuperable apparently; for I could scarcely hope that after so long a silence and seeming indifference any letter from me could be wele。 Your kind note and still kinder proposal; however; clear all that unfortable feeling away; and I am pleased accordingly to find that after all you bear no ill…will。 Of course I shall take it as a great pliment and a gracious and christian way of turning the other cheek to be smitten if you carry out your proposal to dedicate your new Zulu novel to me。 If I had known that you were engaged upon such a work I might have helped you with materials。 。 。 。 But when I saw that you were oscillating between the North and South Poles; calling at Cairo and dallying a bit at the Equator in your erratic course I concluded that your interest in these parts had ceased 。 。 。 。
I have been for some time past very unwell; and two months ago they sent me down here for change of air。 I am not to go back till the end of this month or the beginning of