the jacket (the star-rover)-第33章

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caresses　for　sale；　tanning　the　hides　under　the　filth　of　the　feet　of

the　passers…by　by　spreading　the　hides；　raw…side　up；　in　the　muck　of

the　street。　　But　Chong　Mong…ju　found　me　out。　　I　was　a　dyer's　helper

in　Pyonhan；　a　gold…miner　in　the　placers　of　Kang…wun；　a　rope…maker

and　twine…twister　in　Chiksan。　　I　plaited　straw　hats　in　Padok；

gathered　grass　in　Whang…hai；　and　in　Masenpo　sold　myself　to　a　rice

farmer　to　toil　bent　double　in　the　flooded　paddies　for　less　than　a

coolie's　pay。　　But　there　was　never　a　time　or　place　that　the　long　arm

of　Chong　Mong…ju　did　not　reach　out　and　punish　and　thrust　me　upon　the

beggar's　way。



The　Lady　Om　and　I　searched　two　seasons　and　found　a　single　root　of

the　wild　mountain　ginseng；　which　is　esteemed　so　rare　and　precious　a

thing　by　the　doctors　that　the　Lady　Om　and　I　could　have　lived　a　year

in　comfort　from　the　sale　of　our　one　root。　　But　in　the　selling　of　it

I　was　apprehended；　the　root　confiscated；　and　I　was　better　beaten　and

longer　planked　than　ordinarily。



Everywhere　the　wandering　members　of　the　great　Peddlers'　Guild

carried　word　of　me；　of　my　comings　and　goings　and　doings；　to　Chong

Mong…ju　at　Keijo。　　Only　twice；　in　all　the　days　after　my　downfall；

did　I　meet　Chong　Mong…ju　face　to　face。　　The　first　time　was　a　wild

winter　night　of　storm　in　the　high　mountains　of　Kang…wun。　　A　few

hoarded　coppers　had　bought　for　the　Lady　Om　and　me　sleeping　space　in

the　dirtiest　and　coldest　corner　of　the　one　large　room　of　the　inn。

We　were　just　about　to　begin　on　our　meagre　supper　of　horse…beans　and

wild　garlic　cooked　into　a　stew　with　a　scrap　of　bullock　that　must

have　died　of　old　age；　when　there　was　a　tinkling　of　bronze　pony　bells

and　the　stamp　of　hoofs　without。　　The　doors　opened；　and　entered　Chong

Mong…ju；　the　personification　of　well…being；　prosperity　and　power；

shaking　the　snow　from　his　priceless　Mongolian　furs。　　Place　was　made

for　him　and　his　dozen　retainers；　and　there　was　room　for　all　without

crowding；　when　his　eyes　chanced　to　light　on　the　Lady　Om　and　me。



〃The　vermin　there　in　the　cornerclear　it　out；〃　he　commanded。



And　his　horse…boys　lashed　us　with　their　whips　and　drove　us　out　into

the　storm。　　But　there　was　to　be　another　meeting；　after　long　years；

as　you　shall　see。



There　was　no　escape。　　Never　was　I　permitted　to　cross　the　northern

frontier。　　Never　was　I　permitted　to　put　foot　to　a　sampan　on　the　sea。

The　Peddlers'　Guild　carried　these　commands　of　Chong　Mong…ju　to　every

village　and　every　soul　in　all　Cho…Sen。　　I　was　a　marked　man。



Lord；　Lord；　Cho…Sen；　I　know　your　every　highway　and　mountain　path；

all　your　walled　cities　and　the　least　of　your　villages。　　For　two…

score　years　I　wandered　and　starved　over　you；　and　the　Lady　Om　ever

wandered　and　starved　with　me。　　What　we　in　extremity　have　eaten！

Leavings　of　dog's　flesh；　putrid　and　unsaleable；　flung　to　us　by　the

mocking　butchers；　MINARI；　a　water…cress　gathered　from　stagnant　pools

of　slime；　spoiled　KIMCHI　that　would　revolt　the　stomachs　of　peasants

and　that　could　be　smelled　a　mile。　　AyI　have　stolen　bones　from

curs；　gleaned　the　public　road　for　stray　grains　of　rice；　robbed

ponies　of　their　steaming　bean…soup　on　frosty　nights。



It　is　not　strange　that　I　did　not　die。　　I　knew　and　was　upheld　by　two

things：　　the　first；　the　Lady　Om　by　my　side；　the　second；　the　certain

faith　that　the　time　would　come　when　my　thumbs　and　fingers　would

fast…lock　in　the　gullet　of　Chong　Mong…ju。



Turned　always　away　at　the　city　gates　of　Keijo；　where　I　sought　Chong

Mong…ju；　we　wandered　on；　through　seasons　and　decades　of　seasons；

across　Cho…Sen；　whose　every　inch　of　road　was　an　old　story　to　our

sandals。　　Our　history　and　identity　were　wide…scattered　as　the　land

was　wide。　　No　person　breathed　who　did　not　know　us　and　our

punishment。　　There　were　coolies　and　peddlers　who　shouted　insults　at

the　Lady　Om　and　who　felt　the　wrath　of　my　clutch　in　their　topknots；

the　wrath　of　my　knuckles　in　their　faces。　　There　were　old　women　in

far　mountain　villages　who　looked　on　the　beggar　woman　by　my　side；　the

lost　Lady　Om；　and　sighed　and　shook　their　heads　while　their　eyes

dimmed　with　tears。　　And　there　were　young　women　whose　faces　warmed

with　compassion　as　they　gazed　on　the　bulk　of　my　shoulders；　the　blue

of　my　eyes；　and　my　long　yellow　hairI　who　had　once　been　a　prince　of

Koryu　and　the　ruler　of　provinces。　　And　there　were　rabbles　of

children　that　tagged　at　our　heels；　jeering　and　screeching；　pelting

us　with　filth　of　speech　and　of　the　common　road。



Beyond　the　Yalu；　forty　miles　wide；　was　the　strip　of　waste　that

constituted　the　northern　frontier　and　that　ran　from　sea　to　sea。　　It

was　not　really　waste　land；　but　land　that　had　been　deliberately　made

waste　in　carrying　out　Cho…Sen's　policy　of　isolation。　　On　this　forty…

mile　strip　all　farms；　villages　and　cities　had　been　destroyed。　　It

was　no　man's　land；　infested　with　wild　animals　and　traversed　by

companies　of　mounted　Tiger　Hunters　whose　business　was　to　kill　any

human　being　they　found。　　That　way　there　was　no　escape　for　us；　nor

was　there　any　escape　for　us　by　sea。



As　the　years　passed　my　seven　fellow…cunies　came　more　to　frequent

Fusan。　　It　was　on　the　south…east　coast　where　the　climate　was　milder。

But　more　than　climate；　it　lay　nearest　of　all　Cho…Sen　to　Japan。

Across　the　narrow　straits；　just　farther　than　the　eye　can　see；　was

the　one　hope　of　escape　Japan；　where　doubtless　occasional　ships　of

Europe　came。　　Strong　upon　me　is　the　vision　of　those　seven　ageing　men

on　the　cliffs　of　Fusan　yearning　with　all　their　souls　across　the　sea

they　would　never　sail　again。



At　times　junks　of　Japan　were　sighted；　but　never　lifted　a　familiar

topsail　of　old　Europe　above　the　sea…rim。　　Years　came　and　went；　and

the　seven　cunies　and　myself　and　the　Lady　Om；　passing　through　middle

life　into　old　age；　more　and　more　directed　our　footsteps　to　Fusan。

And　as　the　years　came　and　went；　now　one；　now　another　failed　to

gather　at　the　usual　place。　　Hans　Amden　was　the　first　to　die。　　Jacob

Brinker；　who　was　his　road…mate；　brought　the　news。　　Jacob　Brinker　was

the　last　of　the　seven；　and　he　was　nearly　ninety　when　he　died；

outliving　Tromp　a　scant　two　years。　　I　well　remember　the　pair　of

them；　toward　the　last；　worn　and　feeble；　in　beggars'　rags；　with

beggars'　bowls；　sunning　themselves　side　by　side　on　the　cliffs；

telling　old　stories　and　cackling　shrill…voiced　like　children。　　And

Tromp　would　maunder　over　and　over　of　how　Johannes　Maartens　and　the

cunies　robbed　the　kings　on　Tabong　Mountain；　each　embalmed　in　his

golden　coffin　with　an　embalmed　maid　on　either　side；　and　of　how　these

ancient　proud　ones　crumbled　to　dust　within　the　hour　while　the　cunies

cursed　and　sweated　at　junking　the　coffins。



As　sure　as　loot　is　loot；　old　Johannes　Maartens　would　have　got　away

and　across　the　Yellow　Sea　with　his　booty　had　it　not　been　for　the　fog

next　day　that　lost　him。　　That　cursed　fog！　　A　song　was　made　of　it；

that　I　heard　and　hated　through　all　Cho…Sen　to　my　dying　day。　　Here

run　two　lines　of　it：





〃Yanggukeni　chajin　anga

Wheanpong　tora　deunda；

The　thick　fog　of　the　Westerners

Broods　over　Whean　peak。〃





For　forty　years　I　was　a　beggar　of　Cho…Sen。　　Of　the　fourteen　of　us

that　were　cast　away　only　I　survived。　　The　Lady　Om　was　of　the　same

indomitable　stuff；　and　we　aged　together。　　She　was　a　little；

weazened；　toothless　old　woman　toward　the　last；　but　ever　she　was　the

wonder　woman；　and　she　carried　my　heart　in　hers　to　the　end。　　For　an

old　man；　three　score　and　ten；　I　still　retained　great　strength。　　My

face　was　withered；　my　yellow　hair　turned　white；　my　broad　shoulders

shrunken；　and　yet　much　of　the　strength　of　my　sea…cuny　days　resided

in　the　muscles　left　me。



Thus　it　was　that　I　was　able　to　do　what　I　shall　now　relate。　　It　was　a

spring　morning　on　the　cliffs　of　Fusan；　hard　by　the　highway；　that　the

Lady　Om　and　I　sat　warming　in　the　sun。　　We　were　in　the　rags　of

beggary；　prideless　in　the　dust；　and　yet　I　was　laughing　heartily　at

some　mumbled　merry　quip　of　the　Lady　Om　when　a　shadow　fell　upon　us。

It　was　the　great　litter　of　Chong　Mong…ju；　borne　by　eight　coolies；

with　outriders　before　and　behind　and　fluttering　attendants　on　either

side。



Two　emperors；　civil　war；　famine；　and　a　dozen　palace　revolutions　had

come　and　gone；　and　Chong　Mong…ju　remained；　even　then　the　great　power

at　Keijo。　　He　must　have　been　nearly　eighty　that　spring　morning　on

the　cliffs　when　he　signalled　with　palsied　hand　for　his　litter　to　be

rested　down　that　he　might　gaze　upon　us　whom　he　had　punished　for　so

long。



〃Now；　O　my　king；〃　the　Lady　Om　mumbled　low　to　me；　then　turned　to

whine　an　alms　of　Chong　Mong…ju；　whom　she　affected　not　to　recognize。



And　I　knew　what　was　her　thought。　　Had　we　not　shared　it　for　forty

years？　　And　the　moment　of　its　consummation　had　come　at　last。　　So　I；

too；　affected　not　to　recognize　my　enemy；　and；　putting　on　an　idiotic

senility；　I；　too；　crawled　in　the　dust　toward　the　litter　whining　for

mercy　and　charity。



The　attendants　would　have　driven　me　back；　but　with　age…quavering

cackles　Chong　Mong…ju　restrained　them。　　He　lifted　himself　on　a

shaking　elbow；　and　with　the　other　shaking　hand　drew　wider　apart　the

silken　curtains。　　His　withered　old　face　was　transfigured　with

delight　as　he　gloated　on　us。



〃O　my　king；〃　the　Lady　Om　whined　to　me　in　her　beggar's　chant；　and　I

knew　all　her　long…tried　love　and　faith　in　my　emprise　were　in　that

chant。



And　the　red　wrath　was　up　in　me；　ripping　and　tearing　at　my　will　to　be

free。　　Small　wonder　that　I　shook　with　the　effort　to　control。　　The

shaking；　happily；　they　took　for　the　weakness　of　age。　　I　held　up　my

brass　begging　bowl；　and　whined　more　dolefully；　and　bleared　my　eyes

to　hide　the　blue　fire　I　knew　was　in　them；　and　calculated　the

distance　and　my　strength　for　the　leap。



Then　I　was　swept　away　in　a　blaze　of　red。　　There　was　a　crashing　of

curtains　and　curtain…poles　and　a　squawking　and　squalling　of

attendants　as　my　hands　closed　on　Chong　Mong…ju's　throat。　　The　litter

over…turned；　and　I　scarce　knew　whether　I　was　heads　or　heels；　but　my

clutch　never　relaxed。



In　the　confusion　of　cushions　and　quilts　and　curtains；　at　first　few

of　the　attendants'　blows　found　me。　　But　soon　the　horsemen　were　in；

and　their　heavy　whip…butts　began　to　fall　on　my　head；　while　a

multitude　of　hands　clawed　and　tore　at　me。　　I　was　dizzy；　but　not

unconscious；　and　very　blissful　with　my　old　fingers　buried　in　that

lean　and　scraggly　old　neck　I　had　sought　for　so　long。　　The　blows

continued　to　rain　on　my　head；　and　I　had　whirling　thoughts　in　which　I

likened　myself　to　a　bulldog　with　jaws　fast…locked。　　Chong　Mong…ju

could　not　escape　me；　and　I　know　he　was　well　dead　ere　darkness；　like

that　of　an　anaesthetic；　descended　upon　me　there　on　the　cliffs　of

Fusan　by　the　Yellow　Sea。







CHAPTER　XVI







Warden　Atherton；　when　he　thinks　of　me；　must　feel　anything　but　pride。

I　have　taught　him　what　spirit　is；　humbled　him　with　my　own　spirit

that　rose　invulnerable；　triumphant；　above　all　his　tortures。　　I　sit

here　in　Folsom