Читать книгу Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat - Bramah Ernest - Страница 4

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It was Kai Lung's habit, as he approached any spot where it seemed as though his mat might be profitably unrolled, to beat upon a small wooden drum and even to discharge an occasional firework, so that the leisurely and indulgent should have no excuse for avoiding his entertainment. As darkness was fast approaching when he reached the village of Ching, it would have been prudent first of all to obtain shelter for the night and a little rice to restore his failing powers, for three days had passed since the parting from Shen Hing, and with scarcely a pause Kai Lung had pressed relentlessly on toward the west, journeying through a barren upland waste where nothing to sustain life offered beyond the roots of herbs and a scanty toll of honey. But the rocky path that he had followed was scarcely less harsh and forbidding than the faces of those to whom the storyteller now spoke of food and shelter, with an assumed payment at some future time, and however ill-fitted he felt his attributes to be, he had no alternative but to retrace his faltering steps to the deserted open space and there to spread his mat and lift up his voice in the hope of enticing together one or two who would contribute even a few brass pieces to his bowl.

When Kai Lung had beat upon his drum for as long as it was prudent and had expended the last firecracker of his slender store, he looked around so that he might estimate what profit the enterprise held out and judge therefrom what variety of story would be adequate. To his gratified surprise, he now perceived that, so far from attracting only a meagre sprinkling of the idle and necessitous, about him stood a considerable throng, and persons of even so dignified a position as an official chair bearer and an assistant tax collector had not scrupled to draw near. At least two full strings of negotiable cash might be looked for, and Kai Lung brushed aside his hunger and fatigue as he resolved to justify so auspicious an occasion.

"It is well said," he remarked with becoming humility, "that the more insignificant the flower the handsomer the bees that are attracted to it, and the truth of the observation is borne out by this distinguished gathering of influential noblemen all condescending to listen to the second rate elocution of so ill endowed a person as the one who is now speaking. Nevertheless, in order to start the matter on a satisfactory basis, attention is now drawn to this very inadequate collecting bowl. When even its lower depth is hidden beneath the impending shower of high-class currency, these deficient lips will be stimulated to recite the story of Ling Tso and the Golden Casket of the Lady Wu."

For a few beats of time there was an impressive pause, which Kai Lung ascribed to a pleased anticipation of what was to follow, but no shower of coins ensued. Then a venerable person stood forth and raised a forbidding hand.

"Refrain from this ineptitude and tell us the thing that we have come to hear," he remarked in an unappreciative voice. "Is it to be thought that persons of such importance as an official chair bearer and an assistant tax collector "--here he indicated the two, who assumed expressions of appropriate severity--"would bend their weighty ears to the painted insincerity of a fictitious tale?"

"Yet wherein can offence be taken at the history of Ling Tso and the virtuous Lady Wu?" asked Kai Lung in pained surprise. "None the less, it is reasonably said that he who hires the carriage picks the road, and should another tale be indicated, this one will cheerfully endeavour to comply with the demand."

"Alas," exclaimed the one who had constituted himself the leader of their voices, "can obliquity go further? Why should we who are assembled to hear what relief Ang-Liang can send us in our straits be withheld in this extraneous manner? Deliver your message competently, O townsman of Ang-Liang, so that we may quickly know."

At this reversal of his hopes and all that it foreshadowed, Kai Lung suddenly felt the cords of his restraint give way, and for a discreditable moment he covered his face with his hands, lest his anguish should appear there.

"It is very evident that an unfortunate misconception has arisen," he said, when he had recovered his inner possession. "The one before you has journeyed from the east, nor has he any part with the township of Ang-Liang, neither does he bear with him a message."

"Then how arises it," demanded the foremost of the throng acrimoniously, "that you have come to this very spot, beating upon a wooden drum and bearing other signs of him whom we expect?"

"I had sought this open space thinking to earn a narrow sufficiency of the means whereby to secure food and shelter before the darkness closes in," replied Kai Lung freely. "My discreditable calling is that of a minstrel and a relater of imagined tales, my abject name being Lung, and Kai that of my offensive father's ill-conditioned Line. Being three days' journey from my bankrupt home, I have nothing but my own distressing voice and the charitable indulgence of your unsullied hearts to interpose between myself and various unpleasant ways of Passing Upward. To that end I admittedly beat upon this hollow drum and discharged an occasional cracker, as my harmless custom is."

"Were it not possible to take a lenient view of the offence by reason of your being a stranger, it is difficult to say what crime you may not have committed," declared the spokesman with obtuse persistence. "As it is, it would be well that you should return to your own place without delay and avoid the boundaries of Ching in future. Justice may not close an eye twice in the same direction."

"Nothing could be more agreeably expressed, and this one will not fail to profit by your broad-minded toleration," meekly replied Kai Lung. "Yet inexperienced wayfarers have been known to wander in a circle after nightfall and so to return to the point of their departure. To avoid this humiliating transgression, the one who is now striving to get away at the earliest possible moment will restrain his ardour until daybreak. In the meanwhile, to satisfy your natural demand that he should justify the claim to be as he asserts, he will now relate the story of Wan and the Remarkable Shrub--a narrative which, while useful to ordinary persons as indicative of what may be reasonably expected in a variety of circumstances, does not impose so severe a strain upon the imagination as does the history of Ling Tso and the Golden Casket."

"Any strain upon the imagination is capable of sympathetic adjustment," put forward one of the circle, evidently desirous of sharing in some form of entertainment. "As regards the claim of the collecting bowl to which reference has been made--"

"Cease, witling," interposed the leader in a tone of no-encouragement. "Having been despoiled by Ming-shu's insatiable horde, are we now to be beguiled into contributing to a strolling musician's scarcely less voracious bowl? Understand, mountebank, that by flood, fire, and famine, culminating in this last iniquity at the hands of a rebel band, our village is not only cashless but is already destitute of food and fuel for itself, so that we have even sent imploring messages to less deficient neighbours."

"In that case, the historical legend of Wan and the Remarkable Shrub is exceptionally appropriate, conveying as it does the inspiring maxim that misfortune may be turned to a final gain, and indicating--on broad lines--how this desirable result may be attained."

"A recital of that nature cannot be deemed to be merely light and indulgent," contended the one who had favoured the amusement, "and, indeed, may be regarded as a definite commercial asset. It is true that among us we have not the wherewithal to line even the bottom of the accomodating Kai Lung's unassuming bowl, but if a mat upon my misshapen sleeping bench should be judged an equivalent share--"

"In the matter of your evening rice this person chances to have a superfluous portion of meat upon a skewer," remarked the official chair bearer. "Lean and unappetizing as it will doubtless prove, it is freely offered as a proportionate bestowal."

"Meat of itself requires the savour of mixed herbs," interposed the assistant tax collector, not desirous of being outdone by others, "and in that respect this one will not prove lacking."

"When the tide turns, it carries all before it," grumbled the head-man of the community, with a supine glance at the many who were pressing forward. "As regards tea to any reasonable amount, the name of Thang stands to that detail."

"An onion to refresh your supple throat," came from another.

"A little snuff to bring out the flavor of each dish"; "Look to Wei Ho, for mien paste to form a staple"; "A small dried fish, well steeped in oil"; "The gratuitous shaving of your noble footsore limbs"--these and a variety of inspiring cries were raised on every side.

"It is necessary to test silver on a block, but hospitality proclaims itself," replied Kai Lung agreeably. "This brings in the legendary tale of Wan and what befell him."

The Story of Wan and the Remarkable Shrub