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the days of my life-第47部分
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not always perfect in its working； etc。； and wrote a short preface which may now be read in all the copies printed since that date。
As I have said； the incident disturbed me a good deal； and more or less set me against the writing of novels of modern life。 It is very well to talk about art with a large A； but I have always felt that the author of books which go anywhere and everywhere has some responsibilities。 Therefore I have tried to avoid topics that might inflame even minds which are very ready to be set on fire。
The charge has been brought against me that my pages have breathed war。 I admit it； and on this point am quite unrepentant。 Personally I may say that I have a perfect horror of war； and hope that I may not live to see another in which my country is involved； for it seems to me terrible that human beings should destroy each other； often enough from motives that do not bear examination。 Yet there is such a thing as righteous war； and if my land were invaded I should think poorly of anyone； myself 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 next。 Meanwhile the change is doing me great good； and I feel better and stronger than I have felt for several years。 I had begun to lose a great deal of interest in passing events； and felt unable to enjoy much of life； but all this has now changed for the better； I am glad to say。 。 。 。 If ever you have a moment to spare I should be glad； so glad； to hear how the friends are who were so kind to me at your good old father’s house。 I am glad you had an opportunity of talking to old Osborn。 He is expected to arrive here in a day or two； and I shall have the chance of hearing from him all about you。 I am very proud of my Transvaal colleagues； every one of them has distinguished himself in one way or another。 Captain James and Fynney； poor fellows； have； as the Zulus say； “gone beyond。” I always feel indebted to you all for your loyal support and zealous fellow…working in the Transvaal。 This mail brought me with your letter one from the editor of Greater Britain； calling my attention to an article in the July number of that periodical entitled “Many Lands； One People” and asking my views upon it。 I shall write him a very short answer； for I am sorry to say I am as yet unable to see anything practical in the proposals of Imperial Federation。 I am afraid you will think me old…fashioned and heterodox； but I cannot as yet see anything stronger than the bond which ties the members of a family together。 Love to you both from yours always sincerely；
T。 Shepstone。
In due course the dedication was finished and sent。 Charles Longman always thought it one of the best things I had ever written； and； when I told him the other day that I was engaged upon this task； he especially asked me to insert it here。 Therefore I do so。
DEDICATION
Sompseu：
For I will call you by the name that for fifty years has been honoured by every tribe between the Zambesi and Cape Agulhas； — I greet you！
Sompseu； my father； I have written a book that tells of men and matters of which you know the most of any who still look upon the light； therefore； I set your name within that book and； such as it is； I offer it to you。
If you knew not Chaka； you and he have seen the same suns shine； you knew his brother Panda and his captains； and perhaps even that very Mopo who tells this tale； his servant； who slew him with the Princes。 You have seen the circle of the witch…doctors and the unconquerable Zulu impis rushing to war； you have crowned their kings and shared their counsels； and with your son’s blood you have expiated a statesman’s error and a general’s fault。
Sompseu； a song has been sung in my ears of how first you mastered this people of the Zulu。 Is it not true； my father； that for long hours you lay silent and alone； while three thousand warriors shouted for your life？ And when they grew weary； did you not stand and say； pointing towards the ocean： “Kill me if you wish； men of Cetywayo； but I tell you that for every drop of my blood a hundred avengers shall rise from yonder sea！”
Then； so it was told me； the regiments turned staring towards the Black Water； as though the day of Ulundi had already e and they saw the white slayers creeping across the plains。
Thus； Sompseu； your name became great among the people of the Zulu； as already it was great among many another tribe； and their nobles did you homage； and they gave you the Bayete； the royal salute； declaring by the mouth of their Council that in you dwelt the spirit of Chaka。
Many years have gone by since then； and now you are old； my father。 It is many years even since I was a boy； and followed you when you went up among the Boers and took their country for the Queen。
Why did you do this； my father？ I will answer； who know the truth。 You did it because； had it not been done； the Zulus would have stamped out the Boers。 Were not Cetywayo’s impis gathered against the land； and was it not because it became the Queen’s land that at your word he sent them murmuring to their kraals？ To save bloodshed you annexed the country beyond the Vaal。 Perhaps it had been better to leave it； since �
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