a question of latitude- 第1部分

A　Question　of　Latitude

by　Richard　Harding　Davis





Of　the　school　of　earnest　young　writers　at　whom　the　word　muckraker
had　been　thrown　in　opprobrium；　and　by　whom　it　had　been　caught　up　as
a　title　of　honor；　Everett　was　among　the　younger　and　less
conspicuous。　　But；　if　in　his　skirmishes　with　graft　and　corruption
he　had　failed　to　correct　the　evils　he　attacked；　from　the　contests
he　himself　had　always　emerged　with　credit。　　His　sincerity　and　his
methods　were　above　suspicion。　　No　one　had　caught　him　in
misstatement；　or　exaggeration。　　Even　those　whom　he　attacked；
admitted　he　fought　fair。　　For　these　reasons；　the　editors　of
magazines；　with　the　fear　of　libel　before　their　eyes；　regarded　him
as　a　〃safe〃　man；　the　public；　feeling　that　the　evils　he　exposed　were
due　to　its　own　indifference；　with　uncomfortable　approval；　and　those
he　attacked；　with　impotent　anger。　　Their　anger　was　impotent
because；　in　the　case　of　Everett；　the　weapons　used　by　their　class　in
〃striking　back〃　were　denied　them。　　They　could　not　say　that　for
money　he　sold　sensations；　because　it　was　known　that　a　proud　and
wealthy　parent　supplied　him　with　all　the　money　he　wanted。　　Nor　in
his　private　life　could　they　find　anything　to　offset　his　attacks
upon　the　misconduct　of　others。　　Men　had　been　sent　to　spy　upon　him；
and　women　to　lay　traps。　　But　the　men　reported　that　his　evenings
were　spent　at　his　club；　and；　from　the　women；　those　who　sent　them
learned　only　that　Everett　〃treats　a　lady　just　as　though　she　IS　a
lady。〃

Accordingly；　when；　with　much　trumpeting；　he　departed　to　investigate
conditions　in　the　Congo；　there　were　some　who　rejoiced。

The　standard　of　life　to　which　Everett　was　accustomed　was　high。　　In
his　home　in　Boston　it　had　been　set　for　him　by　a　father　and　mother
who；　though　critics　rather　than　workers　in　the　world；　had　taught
him　to　despise　what　was　mean　and　ungenerous；　to　write　the　truth　and
abhor　a　compromise。　　At　Harvard　he　had　interested　himself　in
municipal　reform；　and　when　later　he　moved　to　New　York；　he
transferred　his　interest　to　the　problems　of　that　city。　　His　attack
upon　Tammany　Hall　did　not　utterly　destroy　that　organization；　but　at
once　brought　him　to　the　notice　of　the　editors。　　By　them　he　was
invited　to　tilt　his　lance　at　evils　in　other　parts　of　the　United
States；　at　〃systems；〃　trusts；　convict　camps；　municipal　misrule。
His　work　had　met　with　a　measure　of　success　that　seemed　to　justify
Lowell's　Weekly　in　sending　him　further　afield；　and　he　now　was　on
his　way　to　tell　the　truth　about　the　Congo。　　Personally；　Everett　was
a　healthy；　clean…minded　enthusiast。　　He　possessed　all　of　the
advantages　of　youth；　and　all　of　its　intolerance。　　He　was　supposed
to　be　engaged　to　Florence　Carey；　but　he　was　not。　　There　was；
however；　between　them　an　〃understanding；〃　which　understanding；　as
Everett　understood　it；　meant　that　until　she　was　ready　to　say；　〃I　am
ready；〃　he　was　to　think　of　her；　dream　of　her；　write　love…letters　to
her；　and　keep　himself　only　for　her。　　He　loved　her　very　dearly；　and；
having　no　choice；　was　content　to　wait。　　His　content　was　fortunate；
as　Miss　Carey　seemed　inclined　to　keep　him　waiting　indefinitely。

Except　in　Europe；　Everett　had　never　travelled　outside　the　limits　of
his　own　country。　　But　the　new　land　toward　which　he　was　advancing
held　no　terrors。　　As　he　understood　it；　the　Congo　was　at　the　mercy
of　a　corrupt　〃ring。〃　　In　every　part　of　the　United　States　he　had
found　a　city　in　the　clutch　of　a　corrupt　ring。　　The　conditions　would
be　the　same；　the　methods　he　would　use　to　get　at　the　truth　would　be
the　same；　the　result　for　reform　would　be　the　same。

The　English　steamer　on　which　he　sailed　for　Southampton　was　one
leased　by　the　Independent　State　of　the　Congo；　and；　with　a　few
exceptions；　her　passengers　were　subjects　of　King　Leopold。　　On
board；　the　language　was　French；　at　table　the　men　sat　according　to
the　rank　they　held　in　the　administration　of　the　jungle；　and　each　in
his　buttonhole　wore　the　tiny　silver　star　that　showed　that　for　three
years；　to　fill　the　storehouses　of　the　King　of　the　Belgians；　he　had
gathered　rubber　and　ivory。　　In　the　smoking…room　Everett　soon
discovered　that　passengers　not　in　the　service　of　that　king；　the
English　and　German　officers　and　traders；　held　aloof　from　the
Belgians。　　Their　attitude　toward　them　seemed　to　be　one　partly　of
contempt；　partly　of　pity。

〃Are　your　English　protectorates　on　the　coast；　then；　so　much　better
administered？〃　Everett　asked。

The　English　Coaster；　who　for　ten　years　in　Nigeria　had　escaped　fever
and　sudden　death；　laughed　evasively。

〃I　have　never　been　in　the　Congo；〃　he　said。　　〃Only　know　what　they
tell　one。　　But　you'll　see　for　yourself。　　That　is；〃　he　added；
〃you'll　see　what　they　want　you　to　see。〃

They　were　leaning　on　the　rail；　with　their　eyes　turned　toward　the
coast　of　Liberia；　a　gloomy　green　line　against　which　the　waves　cast
up　fountains　of　foam　as　high　as　the　cocoanut　palms。　　As　a　subject
of　discussion；　the　coaster　seemed　anxious　to　avoid　the　Congo。

〃It　was　there；〃　he　said；　pointing；　〃the　Three　Castles　struck　on　the
rocks。　　She　was　a　total　loss。　　So　were　her　passengers；〃　he　added。
〃They　ate　them。〃

Everett　gazed　suspiciously　at　the　unmoved　face　of　the　veteran。

〃WHO　ate　them？〃　he　asked　guardedly。　　〃Sharks？〃

〃The　natives　that　live　back　of　that　shore…line　in　the　lagoons。〃

Everett　laughed　with　the　assurance　of　one　for　whom　a　trap　had　been
laid　and　who　had　cleverly　avoided　it。

〃Cannibals；〃　he　mocked。　　〃Cannibals　went　out　of　date　with　pirates。
But　perhaps；〃　he　added　apologetically；　〃this　happened　some　years
ago？〃

〃Happened　last　month；〃　said　the　trader。

〃But　Liberia　is　a　perfectly　good　republic；〃　protested　Everett。
〃The　blacks　there　may　not　be　as　far　advanced　as　in　your　colonies；
but　they're　not　cannibals。〃

〃Monrovia　is　a　very　small　part　of　Liberia；〃　said　the　trader　dryly。
〃And　none　of　these　protectorates；　or　crown　colonies；　on　this　coast
pretends　to　control　much　of　the　Hinterland。　　There　is　Sierra　Leone；
for　instance；　about　the　oldest　of　them。　　Last　year　the　governor
celebrated　the　hundredth　anniversary　of　the　year　the　British
abolished　slavery。　　They　had　parades　and　tea…fights；　and　all　the
blacks　were　in　the　street　in　straw　hats　with　cricket　ribbons；
thanking　God　they　were　not　as　other　men　are；　not　slaves　like　their
grandfathers。　　Well；　just　at　the　height　of　the　jubilation；　the
tribes　within　twenty　miles　of　the　town　sent　in　to　say　that　they；
also；　were　holding　a　palaver；　and　it　was　to　mark　the　fact　that　they
NEVER　had　been　slaves　and　never　would　be；　and；　if　the　governor
doubted　it；　to　send　out　his　fighting　men　and　they'd　prove　it。　　It
cast　quite　a　gloom　over　the　celebration。〃

〃Do　you　mean　that　only　twenty　miles　from　the　coast〃　began
Everett。

〃TEN　miles；〃　said　the　Coaster。　　〃wait　till　you　see　Calabar。　　That's
our　Exhibit　A。　　The　cleanest；　best　administered。　　Everything　there
is　model：　hospitals；　barracks；　golf　links。　　Last　year；　ten　miles
from　Calabar；　Dr。　Stewart　rode　his　bicycle　into　a　native　village。
The　king　tortured　him　six　days；　cut　him　up；　and　sent　pieces　of　him
to　fifty　villages　with　the　message：　　'You　eat　each　other。　　WE　eat
white　chop。'　　That　was　ten　miles　from　our　model　barracks。〃

For　some　moments　the　muckraker　considered　the　statement
thoughtfully。

〃You　mean；〃　he　inquired；　〃that　the　atrocities　are　not　all　on　the
side　of　the　white　men？〃

〃Atrocities？〃　exclaimed　the　trader。　　〃I　wasn't　talking　of
atrocities。　　Are　you　looking　for　them？〃

〃I'm　not　running　away　from　them；〃　laughed　Everett。　　〃Lowell's
Weekly　is　sending　me　to　the　Congo　to　find　out　the　truth；　and　to　try
to　help　put　an　end　to　them。〃

In　his　turn　the　trader　considered　the　statement　carefully。

〃Among　the　natives；〃　he　explained；　painstakingly　picking　each　word；
〃what　you　call　'atrocities'　are　customs　of　warfare；　forms　of
punishment。　　When　they　go　to　war　they　EXPECT　to　be　tortured；　they
KNOW；　if　they're　killed；　they'll　be　eaten。　　The　white　man　comes
here　and　finds　these　customs　have　existed　for　centuries。　　He　adopts
them；　because〃

〃One　moment！〃　interrupted　Everett　warmly。　　〃That　does　not　excuse
HIM。　　The　point　is；　that　with　him　they　have　NOT　existed。　　To　him
they　should　be　against　his　conscience；　indecent；　horrible！　　He　has
a　greater　knowledge；　a　much　higher　intelligence；　he　should　lift　the
native；　not　sink　to　him。〃

The　Coaster　took　his　pipe　from　his　mouth；　and　twice　opened　his　lips
to　speak。　　Finally；　he　blew　the　smoke　into　the　air；　and　shook　his
head。

〃What's　the　use！〃　he　exclaimed。

〃Try；〃　laughed　Everett。　　〃Maybe　I'm　not　as　unintelligent　as　I
talk。〃

〃You　must　get　this　right；〃　protested　the　Coaster。　　〃It　doesn't
matter　a　damn　what　a　man　BRINGS　here；　what　his　training　WAS；　what
HE　IS。　　The　thing　is　too　strong　for　him。〃

〃What　thing？〃

〃That！〃　said　the　Coaster。　　He　threw　out　his　arm　at　the　brooding
mountains；　the　dark　lagoons；　the　glaring　coast…line　against　which
the　waves　shot　into　the　air　with　the　shock　and　roar　of　twelve…inch
guns。

〃The　first　white　man　came　to　Sierra　Leone　five　hundred　years　before
Christ；〃　said　the　Coaster。　　〃And；　in　twenty…two　hundred　years；　he's
got　just　twenty　miles　inland。　　The　native　didn't　need　forts；　or　a
navy；　to　stop　him。　　He　had　three　allies：　those　waves；　the　fever；
and　the　sun。　　Especially　the　sun。　　The　black　man　goes　bare…headed；
and　the　sun　lets　him　pass。　　The　white　man　covers　his　head　with　an
inch　of　cork；　and　the　sun　strikes　through　it　and　kills　him。　　When
Jameson　came　down　the　river　from　Yambuya；　the　natives　fired　on　his
boat。　　He　waved　his　helmet　at　them　for　three　minutes；　to　show　them
there　was　a　white　man　in　the　canoe。　　Three　minutes　was　all　the　sun
wanted。　　Jameson　died　in　two　days。　　Where　you　are　going；　the　sun
does　worse　things　to　a　man　than　kill　him：　it　drives　him　mad。　　It
keeps　the　fear　of　death　in　his　heart；　and　THAT　takes　away　his　nerve
and　his　sense　of　proportion。　　He　flies　into　murderous　fits；　over
silly；　imaginary　slights；　he　grows　morbid；　suspicious；　he　becomes　a
coward；　and　because　he　is　a　coward　with　authority；　he　becomes　a
bully。

〃He　is　alone；　we　will　suppose；　at　a　station　three　hundred　miles
from　any　other　white　man。　　One　morning　his　house…boy　spills　a　cup
of　coffee　on　him；　and　in　a　rage　he　half　kills　the　boy。　　He　broods