Конец рабства
VII
Heswungitrigidlywiththerotaryandmenacingactionofaslinger:the14-lb.weighthurtledcirclingintheair,thensuddenlyflewaheadasfarasthecurveofthebow.Thewetthinlineswishedlikescratchedsilkrunningthroughthedarkfingersoftheman,andtheplungeoftheleadclosetotheship’ssidemadeavanishingsilveryscaruponthegoldenglitter;thenafteranintervalthevoiceoftheyoungMalayupliftedandlong-drawndeclaredthedepthofthewaterinhisownlanguage.
“Tigastengah,”hecriedaftereachsplashandpause,gatheringthelinebusilyforanothercast.“Tigastengah,”whichmeansthreefathomandahalf.Foramileorsofromseawardtherewasauniformdepthofwaterrightuptothebar.“Half-three.Half-three.Half-three,”—andhismodulatedcry,returnedleisurelyandmonotonous,liketherepeatedcallofabird,seemedtofloatawayinsunshineanddisappearinthespacioussilenceoftheemptyseaandofalifelessshorelyingopen,northandsouth,eastandwest,withoutthestirofasinglecloud-shadoworthewhisperofanyothervoice.
Theowner-engineeroftheSofalaremainedverystillbehindthetwoseamenofdifferentrace,creed,andcolor;theEuropeanwiththetime-defyingvigorofhisoldframe,thelittleMalay,old,too,butslightandshrunkenlikeawitheredbrownleafblownbyachancewindunderthemightyshadowoftheother.Verybusylookingforwardattheland,theyhadnotaglancetospare;andMassy,glaringatthemfrombehind,seemedtoresenttheirattentiontotheirdutylikeapersonalslightuponhimself.
