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In order to shorten the journey, the guide passed to the left of the line where the railway was still in process of being built. This lined owing to the capricious turnings of the Vindhia Mountains, did not pursue a straight course. The Parsee, who was quite familiar with the roads and paths in the district, declared that they would gain twenty miles by striking directly through the forest. Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty plunged1 to the neck in the peculiar2 howdahs provided for theme were horribly jostled by the swift trotting4 of the elephant, spurred on as he was by the skilful5 Parsee; but they endured the discomfort6 with true British phlegm, talking little, and scarcely able to catch a glimpse of each other. As for Passepartout, who was mounted on the beast's back, and received the direct force of each concussion7 as he trod along, he was very careful, in accordance with his master's advice, to keep his tongue from between his teeth, as it would other have been bitten off short. The worthy8 fellow bounced from the elephant's neck to his rump, and vaulted9 like a clown on a spring-board; yet he laughed in the midst of his bouncing, and from time to time took a piece of sugar out of his pocket, and inserted it in Kiouni's trunks who received it without in the least slackening his regular trot3. After two hours the guide stopped the elephant, and gave him an hour for rest, during which Kiouni, after quenching10 his thirst at a neighbouring spring, set to devouring11 the branches and shrubs12 round about him. Neither Sir Francis nor Mr Fogg regretted the delay, and both descended13 with a feeling of relief. `Why, he's made of iron!' exclaimed the general, gazing admiringly on Kiouni. `Of - forged iron,' replied Passepartout, as he set about preparing a hasty breakfast. At noon the Parsee gave the signal of departure. The country soon presented a very savage14 aspect. Copses of dates and dwarf-palms succeeded the dense15 forests; then vast, dry plains, dotted with scanty16 shrubs, and sown with great blocks of syenite. All this portion of Bundelcund, which is little frequented by travellers, is inhabited by a fanatical population, hardened in the most horrible practices of the Hindoo faith. The English have not been able to secure complete dominion17 over this territory, which is subjected to the influence of rajahs, whom it is almost impossible to reach in their inaccessible18 mountain fastnesses. The travellers several times saw bands of ferocious19 Indians, who, when they perceived the elephant striding across country, made angry and threatening motions. The Parsee avoided them as much as possible. Few animals were observed on the route; even the monkeys hurried from their path with contortions20 and grimaces21 which convulsed Passepartout with laughter. In the midst of his gaiety, however, one thought troubled the worthy servant. What would Mr Fogg do with the elephant, when he got to Allahabad? Would he carry him on with him? Impossible! The cost of transporting him would make him ruinously expensive. Would he sell him, or set him free? The estimable beast certainly deserved some consideration. Should Mr Fogg choose to make him, Passepartout, a present of Kiouni, he would be very much embarrassed; and thlad in all the sumptuousness22 of Oriental apparel, and leading a woman who faltered23 at every step, followed. This woman was young, and as fair as a European. Her head and neck, shoulders, ears, arms, hands and toes, were lˉ?aMàwenty-five miles that day, Sà!!! ò?eeZ)??(á?oaded down with jewels and gems24, - with bracelets25, earrings26, and rings; while a tunic27 bordered with gold, and covered with a light muslin robe, betrayed the outline of her form. The guards who followed the young woman presented a violent contrast to her, armed as they were with naked sabres hung at their waists, and long damascened pistols, and bearing a corpse28 on a palanquin. It was the body of an old man, gorgeously arrayed in of a large tree. Nothing occurred during the night to disturb the slumberers, although occasional growls29 from panthers and chatterings of monkeys broke the silence; the more formidable beasts made no cries or hostile demonstration30 against the occupants of the bungalow31. Sir Francis slept heavily, like an honest soldier overcome with fatigue32. Passepartout was wrapped in uneasy dreams of the bouncing of the day before. As for Mr Fogg, he slumbered33 as peak fully34 as if he had been in his serene35 mansion36 in Saville Row. The journey was resumed at six in the morning; the guide hoped to reach Allahabad by evening. In that case, Mr Fogg would only lose a part of the forty-eight hours saved since the beginning of the tour. Kiouni, resuming his rapid gait, soon descended the lower spurs of the Vindhias, and towards noon they passed by the age of Kallenger, on the Cani, one of the branches of the Ganges. The guide avoided inhabited places, tag it safer to keep the open country, which lies along the first depressions of the basin of the great river. Allahabad was now only twelve miles to the northeast. They stopped under a clump37 of bananas, the fruit of which, as healthy as bread and as succulent as cream, was amply partaken of and appreciated. At two o'clock the guide entered a thick forest which extended several miles; he preferred to travel under cover of the woods. They had not as yet had any unpleasant encounters, and the journey seemed on the point of being successfully accomplished38, when the elephant, becoming restless, suddenly stopped. It was then four o'clock. `What's the matter?' asked Sir Francis, putting out his head. `I don't know, officer,' replied the Parsee, listening attentively39 to a confused murmur40 which came through the thick branches. The murmur soon became more distinct; it now seemed like a distant concert of human voices accompanied by brass41 instruments. Passepartout was all eyes and ears. Mr Fogg patiently waited without a word. The Parsee jumped to the ground, fastened the elephant to a tree, and plunged into the thicket42. He soon returned, saying, `A procession of Brahmins is coming this way. We must prevent their seeing us, if possible.' The guide unloosed the elephant and led him into a thicket, at the same time asking the travellers not to stir. He held himself ready to bestride the animal at a moment's notice, should flight become necessary; but he evidently thought that the procession of the faithful would pass without perceiving them amid the thick foliage43, in which they were wholly concealed44. The discordant45 tones of the voices and instruments drew nearer, and now droning songs mingled46 with the sound of the tambourines47 and cymbals48. The head of the procession soon appeared beneath the trees, a hundred paces away; and the strange figures who performed the religious ceremony were easily distinguished49 through the branches. First came the priests, with mitres on their heads, and clothed in long lace robes. They were surrounded by men, women, and children, who sang a kind of lugubrious50 psalm51, interrupted at regular intervals52 by the tambourines and cymbals; while behind them was drawn53 a car with large wheels, the spokes54 of which represented serpents entwined with each other. Upon the car, which was drawn by four richly caparisoned zebus stood a hideous55 statue with four arms, the body coloured a dull red, with haggard eyes, dishevelled hair, protruding56 tongue, and lips tinted57 with betel. It stood upright upon the figure of a prostrate58 and headless giant. Sir Francis, recognizing the statue, whispered, `The goddess Kali; the goddess of love and death.' `Of death, perhaps,' muttered back Passepartout, `but of love - that ugly old hag? Never!' The Parsee made a motion to keep silence. A group of old fakirs were capering59 and making a wild ado round the statue; te were striped with ochre, and covered with cuts whence their blood issued drop by drop - stupid fanatics60, who, in the great Indian ceremonies, still throw themselves under the wheels of Juggernaut. Some Brahmins, clad in all the sumptuousness of Oriental apparel, and leading a woman who faltered at every step, followed. This woman was young, and as fair as a European. Her head and neck, shoulders, ears, arms, hands and toes, were loaded down with jewels and gems, - with bracelets, earrings, and rings; while a tunic bordered with gold, and covered with a light muslin robe, betrayed the outline of her form. The guards who followed the young woman presented a violent contrast to her, armed as they were with naked sabres hung at their waists, and long damascened pistols, and bearing a corpse on a palanquin. It was the body of an old man, gorgeously arrayed in the habiliments of a rajah, wearing, as in life, a turban embroidered61 with pearls, a robe of tissue of silk and gold, a scarf of cashmere sewed with diamonds, and the magnificent weapons of a Hindoo prince. Next came the musicians and a rearguard of capering fakirs, whose cries sometimes drowned the noise of the instruments; these closed the procession. Sir Francis watched the procession with a sad countenance62, and, turning to the guide, said, `A suttee.' The Parsee nodded, and put his finger to his lips. The procession slowly wound under the trees, and soon its last ranks disappeared in the depths of the wood. The songs gradually died away; occasionally cries were heard in the distance, until at last all was silence again. Phileas Fogg had heard what Sir Francis said, and, as soon as the procession had disappeared, asked: `What is a "suttee"?' `A suttee,' returned the general, `is a human sacrifice but a voluntary one. The woman you have just seen will be burned tomorrow at the dawn of day.' `Oh, the scoundrels!' cried Passepartout, who could not repress his indignation. `And the corpse?' asked Mr Fogg. `Is that of the prince, her husband,' said the guide; `an independent rajah of Bundelcund.' `Is it possible,' resumed Phileas Fogg, his voice betraying not the least emotion, `that these barbarous customs still exist in India, and that the English have been unable to put a stop to them?' `These sacrifices do not occur in the larger portion of India,' replied Sir Francis; `but we have no power over these savage territories, and especially here in Bundelcund. The whole district north of the Vindhias is the theatre of incessant63 murders and pillage64.' `The poor wretch65!' exclaimed Passepartout. `To be burned alive!' `Yes,' returned Sir Francis, `burned alive. And if she were not, you cannot conceive what treatment she would be obliged to submit to from her relatives. They would shave off her hair feed her on a scanty allowance of rice, treat her with contempt; she would be looked upon as an unclean creature, and would die in some corner, like a scurvy66 dog. The prospect67 of so frightful68 an existence drives these poor creatures to the sacrifice much more than love or religious fanaticism69. Sometimes, however, the sacrifice is really voluntary, and it requires the active interference of the Government to prevent it. Several years ago, when I was living at Bombay, a young widow asked permission of the governor to be burned along with her husband's body; but, as you may imagine, he refused. The woman left the town, took refuge with an independent rajah, and there carried out her self-devoted purpose.' While Sir Francis was speaking, the guide shook his head several times, and now said: `The sacrifice which will take place tomorrow at dawn is not a voluntary one.' `How do you know?' `Everybody knows about this affair in Bundelcund.' `But the wretched creature did not seem to be making any resistance,' observed Sir Francis. `That was because they had intoxicated70 her with fumes71 of hemp72 and opium73.' `But where are they taking her?' To the pagoda74 of Pillaji, two miles from here; she will pass the night there.' `And the sacrifice will take place--' `To-morrow, at the first light of dawn.' The guide now led the elephant out of the thicket, and leaped upon his neck. Just at the moment that he was about to urge Kiouni forward with a peculiar whistle, Mr Fogg stopped him, and, turning to Sir Francis Cromarty, said, `Suppose we save this woman.' `Save the woman, Mr Fogg!' `I have yet twelve hours to spare; I can devote them to that.' `Why, you are a man of heart!' `Sometimes,' replied Phileas Fogg, quietly; `when I have the time.' 为了缩短路程,向导就撇开了右边那条正在修建中的铁路线。这条铁路为了要避开那些分支纵横的文迪亚山脉,就不能是象福克先生所希望的那样一条笔直的近路。这个帕西人对这里的大路小道都非常熟悉。他建议从森林里穿过去,这样,可以少走二十多英里路,大家都同意了他这个办法。 福克先生和柯罗马蒂分别坐在两个鞍椅里,只有两个脑袋露在外面。象童驾着大象,叫它快步奔走。大象迈起快步,把鞍椅里的人颠得不亦乐乎。但是,他们以英国人惯有的沉着忍受着这种颠簸。有时候他们谈上一两句,有时候只是相互看看。 至于那个趴在象背上每走一步都要立即受到上下颠震的路路通,他牢牢地记住了主人的叮嘱,尽量避免把舌头收在上下两排牙齿中间,否则,要是一不留神,就会把舌头咬下一截来。这个小伙子一会儿被抛到象脖子上,一会儿又被抛到象屁股上,忽前忽后,活象马戏班小丑在玩翘板。但是他在这种腾空鱼跃的间隙中还是不停地嘻嘻哈哈开玩笑!他不时地从袋子里掏出糖块,聪明的奇乌尼一面用鼻尖把糖接过来,一面仍然一刻不停地按原来的速度快步前进。 跑了两小时之后,向导让大象停下来休息一小时。大象在附近的小水塘里喝了些水,又吞嚼了一些嫩树芽和小灌木枝叶。这样小憩,柯罗马蒂先生并不反对,因为他自己也已经给颠垮了。但福克先生却仍然轻松自如,他就仿佛是刚刚从床上下来似的。旅长用惊奇的目光瞧着福克,一面说道: “真是铁打的硬汉子。” “不是铁打的,是钢铸的!”路路通接着说,一边正在准备一顿简单的早餐。 中午,向导发出了动身的信号。走不多时,眼前已呈现出一片蛮荒的景象。紧接着一大片森林的后面,就是一丛丛乌梅树和棕树。再往前去就是一大片荒凉贫瘠的平原。平原上蔓生着荆棘杂树,其中还夹杂着一大堆一大堆的花岗石。上本德尔汗德这一整块地区,以前都是人迹罕至的地方,现在这里住着一些具有狂热宗教信仰的教族,他们在当地还保留着那些最可怕的教规。英国的统治法规在土王的势力范围内就不能正常执行,至于在文迪亚群山中那些无法接近的地方,那就更加无法管辖了。 一路上,他们好几次碰到一群一群杀气腾腾的印度人,瞧着这头奔驰的大象摆出怒气冲冲的姿态。帕西人总是尽量避开这些人。他认为碰到这些人总是一件倒霉的事。在这一天当中,沿途很少看到野兽,偶尔有几只猢狲一边溜着,一边挤眉弄眼作出各种怪相。这使路路通非常开心。 但是有一桩事,叫路路通感到非常发愁,那就是将来到了阿拉哈巴德,福克先生怎么处置这头大象呢?难道还带着走吗?这绝不可能。买象的钱再加上运费,这简直是一个叫人倾家荡产的家伙!那么,能不能把它卖掉?或是把它放了呢?说真话这头刮刮叫的大象也实在叫人留恋。万一出乎意料,福克先生把它当作礼物送给我路路通,那岂不要难为死我了吗?这叫我路路通怎能不伤脑筋呢? 晚上八点钟,他们已越过了文迪亚群山的主要山脉。于是他们就歇在这北山坡上一所破烂的小屋里。 这一天大约走了二十五英里,离阿拉哈巴德还有二十五英里。 夜晚天气很冷。象童在小屋里燃起一堆枯枝,它发出的热气很受大家的欢迎。晚餐的内容就是在克尔比买来的那些干粮。旅客们也实在是给累垮了,他们草草地吃了这顿晚饭。饭后,他们断断续续地扯了几句,不一会,就鼾声大作进入梦乡了。向导守在大象旁边。这时大象也紧靠着一棵大树站着睡着了。 一夜平安无事,只是偶尔有几声山豹的呼啸和野猿的哀啼冲破这黑夜的寂静。其实这些野兽只是自己叫叫而已,对破屋里的旅客,并不表示什么敌意。柯罗马蒂就象一个疲劳万分的战士一样酣睡如泥,路路通睡得并不踏实,他正在梦见自己在象背上翻跟斗。至于福克先生他是照旧睡得平平静静和他睡在赛微乐街安静的寓所里一样。 第二天上午六点钟,他们又出发了。向导希望在当天晚上就赶到阿拉哈巴德。照这样看,福克先生从伦敦出发以来省下的四十八个小时只被占用了一部分。 他们走下了文迪亚群山最后的几段斜坡路,大象又快步奔跑起来。晌午时分,向导绕过了位于恒河支流卡尼河畔的卡兰吉尔。向导总是避开有人聚居的地方,他觉得在这块恒河盆地的原野上走,会更安全些。此去东北不到十二英里就是阿拉哈巴德了。他们在一丛香蕉树荫下小憩片刻。香蕉跟面包一样对人有好处,旅客们非常欣赏,他们还说香蕉跟奶酪一样有营养呢。 下午两点,向导赶着大象钻进了茂密的森林,穿过这片森林,必须走好几英里的路程。他很乐意这样在森林的掩蔽下前进。不管怎样,到目前为止总算没遇见任何倒霉的事。看起来这次旅行也应该会平安无事地完成任务了。可是,大象突然现出不安的样子,而且站住不走了。 这时正是下午四点钟。 “怎么啦?”柯罗马蒂从鞍椅里探出头来问道。 “军官先生,我也搞不清楚,”帕白西人一面回答,一面倾听着从茂密的树林中传来的一阵混乱嘈杂的声音。 又过了一会儿,这种嘈杂声就听得更真了,听起来好象是人群的呼喊和铜乐器敲打交织成的喧嚣,不过离此尚远而已。 路路通睁大眼睛,全神贯注地听着。福克先生耐心静坐,一语不发。 帕西人跳下象来,把象拴在树干上,钻入那茂密的灌木丛里。几分钟后,他跑回来说: “婆罗门僧侣的游行队伍向咱们这儿来了。咱们尽可能别叫他们瞧见。” 向导解开了象,把它引到密林深处,同时叮嘱旅客千万别下地来。象童本人做好准备,假使必要的话,他就立刻跳上大象逃走。不过他觉得这一群人走过时是不会发现他们的,因为树林中密密的枝叶已把他们完全遮住了。 由喧嚣的人声和锣鼓声交织成的一片噪音愈来愈近。在那鼓声冬冬、铙钹锵锵的鸣奏中还夹杂着单调的歌声。不一会,距福克和他同伴们藏身的地方只有五十来步远的树下面出现了游行队伍的先头行列。他们透过树枝,很清楚地看见参加这个宗教仪式的奇里古怪的人物。 走在队伍前头的是一些头戴尖高帽,身穿花袈裟的僧侣,前后簇拥着许多男人、妇女和孩子。他们在高唱着挽歌。歌声和锣钹的敲击声此起彼落,交替不断。人群后面,有一辆大轱辘车子,车辐和车辋都雕刻成一条条并列交叉的毒蛇,车上有一尊面目狰狞的女神像。车子的前面套了四匹蒙着华丽彩披的驼牛。这尊神像有四条胳臂,全身赭红,披头散发,眼露凶光,伸着吊死鬼样的长舌头,两片嘴唇染成了指甲花和茭酱的红色。她脖子上戴的是骷髅头穿成的项圈,腰上系的是断手接成的腰带。巍然屹立在一个趴着的无头怪物身上。 柯罗马蒂认炽这尊神像。他低声说: “这是卡丽女神,她是爱情和死亡之神。” “说她是死亡之神,我还同意,可是说她是爱情之神我决不同意!”路路通说。“她简直是个丑八怪!” 帕西人示意叫路路通别唠叨。 在这尊神像的四周,围着有一群疯疯癫癫的老托钵僧。他们身上象斑马似的画着赭黄色的条纹,并且割开一些十字形伤口,鲜血一滴滴地流出来。举行盛大的宗教仪式时,这些癫狂得象着了魔似的托钵僧甚至还争先恐后地趴到“太阳神”的大车轱辘底下去送死呢。 托钵僧的后面,有几位婆罗门僧侣。他们都穿着豪华的东方式的僧袍,正拉着一个踉踉跄跄站立不稳的女人往前走。 这女人年纪很轻,皮肤白得象欧洲人。她头上、颈上、肩上、耳上、胳臀上、手指上和脚趾上戴着:宝石颈练、手镯、耳环和戒指。她穿着绣金的紧身胸衣,外面罩着透明的纱丽,衬托出她的体态和丰姿。 在这年轻女人后面,跟着好些卫兵。相形之下,越发显得杀气腾腾。他们腰上别着脱鞘的军刀,挎着嵌金的长把手枪,抬着一顶双人轿,轿上躺着一个死尸。这是一个老头儿的尸首。他和生前一样穿戴着土王的华服,头上缠着缀有珍珠的头巾,身上穿着绣金的绸袍子,腰间系着镶满宝石的细羊毛腰带,此外还佩着印度土王专用的漂亮武器。 接着是乐队和一支狂热的信徒组成的大军。他们叫喊的声音,有时甚至掩盖了那震耳欲聋的乐器声,游行队伍至此才算结束。 柯罗马蒂先生注视着过往的这一群人。他脸上露出了很不自在的神色,转身对向导说: “那是寡妇殉葬?” 帕西人点了点头,并把一个指头搁在嘴唇上,叫他别作声。长长的游行队伍慢慢地向前蠕动着。没多久,队伍的尾巴也在丛林的深处消失了。 歌声慢慢地也听不见了。远方,还传来一两下迸发出的叫喊声。哄乱的局面就此结束,接着是一片沉寂。 福克先生已经听见了柯罗马蒂说的话。游行队伍刚一走完,他就问道: “寡妇殉葬是怎么回事?” “福克先生,”旅长回答说,“殉葬就是用活人来作牺牲的祭品。可是这种活祭是殉葬者甘心情愿的。您刚看见的那个女人明天天一亮就要被烧死。” “这些坏蛋!”路路通大叫一声,他简直忍不住心里的愤怒了。 “那个死尸是谁?”福克问。 “那是一位土王,他是那女人的丈夫,”向导回答说,“他是本德尔汗德的一个独立的土王。” “怎么,”福克先生并不激动,接着说,“印度到现在还保持这种野蛮的风俗。难道英国当局不能取缔吗?” “在印度大部分地区已经没有寡妇殉葬的事了,”柯罗马蒂回答说。“可是,在这深山老林里,尤其是在本德尔汗德土邦的领地上,我们是管不了的。文迪亚群山北部的全部地区,就是一个经常发生杀人掳掠事件的地方。” “这可怜的女人!要给活活地烧死啊!”路路通咕哝着说。 “是呀!活活烧死,”旅长又说。“倘若她不殉葬的话,她的亲人们就会逼得她陷入您想象不到的凄惨的境地。他们会把她的头发剃光,有时只给她吃几块干饭团,有时还把她赶出去,从此她就被人看成是下贱的女人,结果会象一条癞狗一样不知道会死在哪个角落里。这些寡妇就是因为想到将来会有这种可怕的遭遇,才不得不心甘情愿地被烧死。促使她们愿意去殉葬的主要是这种恐惧心理,并不是什么爱情和宗教信仰。不过,有时候也真有心甘情愿去殉葬的,要阻止她们,还得费很大力气。几年前,有过这么一回事:那时我正在孟买,有一位寡妇要求总督允许她去殉葬。当然您会猜想到,总督拒绝了她的请求。后来这个寡妇就离开孟买,逃到一个独立的土王那里。在那里她的殉葬愿望得到了满足。” 旅长讲这段话的时候,向导连连摇头,等他讲完,向导便说道: “明日天一亮就要烧死的这个女人,她可不是心甘情愿的。” “本德尔汗德土邦的人全知道这桩事。”向导说。 “可是,这个可怜的女人似乎一点也不抗拒。”柯罗马蒂说。 “这是因为她已经被大麻和鸦片的烟给熏昏过去了!” “可是他们把她带到哪儿去呢?” “把她带到庇拉吉庙去,离这儿还有两英里。留她在那里过一宿,一到时候,就把她烧死。” “什么时候?……” “明天,天一亮。” 向导说完了话,就从丛林深处牵出大象,他自己也爬上了象脖子。但是,当他正要吹起专用于赶象的口哨叫大象开步走的时候,福克先生止住了他,一面向柯罗马蒂说: “我们去救这个女人,好吗?” “救这个女人!福克先生。”旅长惊讶他说。 “我还富裕十二小时,可以用来救她。” “咦!您还真是个挺热情的人哪!”柯罗马蒂说。 点击收听单词发音
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