ISBN: 2940012790910

CHAPTER I BROTHER JOHNI do not suppose that anyone who knows the name of Allan Quatermainwould be likely to associate it with flowers, and especially withorchi… More...

CHAPTER I BROTHER JOHNI do not suppose that anyone who knows the name of Allan Quatermainwould be likely to associate it with flowers, and especially withorchids. Yet as it happens it was once my lot to take part in an orchidhunt of so remarkable a character that I think its details should notbe lost. At least I will set them down, and if in the after days anyonecares to publish them, well--he is at liberty to do so.It was in the year--oh! never mind the year, it was a long while agowhen I was much younger, that I went on a hunting expedition to thenorth of the Limpopo River which borders the Transvaal. My companion wasa gentleman of the name of Scroope, Charles Scroope. He had come out toDurban from England in search of sport. At least, that was one of hisreasons. The other was a lady whom I will call Miss Margaret Manners,though that was not her name.It seems that these two were engaged to be married, and really attachedto each other. Unfortunately, however, they quarrelled violently aboutanother gentlemen with whom Miss Manners danced four consecutive dances,including two that were promised to her fiancé at a Hunt ball in Essex,where they all lived. Explanations, or rather argument, followed. Mr.Scroope said that he would not tolerate such conduct. Miss Mannersreplied that she would not be dictated to; she was her own mistress andmeant to remain so. Mr. Scroope exclaimed that she might so far as hewas concerned. She answered that she never wished to see his face again.He declared with emphasis that she never should and that he was going toAfrica to shoot elephants.What is more, he went, starting from his Essex home the next day withoutleaving any address. As it transpired afterwards, long afterwards, hadhe waited till the post came in he would have received a letter thatmight have changed his plans. But they were high-spirited young people,both of them, and played the fool after the fashion of those in love.Well, Charles Scroope turned up in Durban, which was but a poor placethen, and there we met in the bar of the Royal Hotel.If you want to kill big game, I heard some one say, who it wasI really forget, there's the man to show you how to do it--HunterQuatermain; the best shot in Africa and one of the finest fellows, too.I sat still, smoking my pipe and pretending to hear nothing. It isawkward to listen to oneself being praised, and I was always a shy man.Then after a whispered colloquy Mr. Scroope was brought forward andintroduced to me. I bowed as nicely as I could and ran my eye over him.He was a tall young man with dark eyes and a rather romantic aspect(that was due to his love affair), but I came to the conclusion that Iliked the cut of his jib. When he spoke, that conclusion was affirmed. Ialways think there is a great deal in a voice; personally, I judge by italmost as much as by the face. This voice was particularly pleasant andsympathetic, though there was nothing very original or striking in thewords by which it was, so to speak, introduced to me. These were:How do you do, sir. Will you have a split?I answered that I never drank spirits in the daytime, or at least notoften, but that I should be pleased to take a small bottle of beer.When the beer was consumed we walked up together to my little houseon which is now called the Berea, the same in which, amongst others, Ireceived my friends, Curtis and Good, in after days, and there we dined.Indeed, Charlie Scroope never left that house until we started on ourshooting expedition.Now I must cut all this story short, since it is only incidentally thatit has to do with the tale I am going to tell. Mr. Scroope was a richman and as he offered to pay all the expenses of the expedition while Iwas to take all the profit in the shape of ivory or anything else thatmight accrue, of course I did not decline his proposal.Everything went well with us on that trip until its unfortunate end.We only killed two elephants, but of other game we found plenty. It waswhen we were near Delagoa Bay on our return that the accident happened.We were out one evening trying to shoot something for our dinner, whenbetween the trees I caught sight of a small buck. It vanished round alittle promontory of rock which projected from the side of the kloof,walking quietly, not running in alarm. We followed after it. Digital Content>E-books>Classics>Lit Studies>Lit Theory & Criticism, SAP Digital >16<

ISBN: 2940012790910

CHAPTER I BROTHER JOHNI do not suppose that anyone who knows the name of Allan Quatermainwould be likely to associate it with flowers, and especially withorchi… More...

CHAPTER I BROTHER JOHNI do not suppose that anyone who knows the name of Allan Quatermainwould be likely to associate it with flowers, and especially withorchids. Yet as it happens it was once my lot to take part in an orchidhunt of so remarkable a character that I think its details should notbe lost. At least I will set them down, and if in the after days anyonecares to publish them, well--he is at liberty to do so.It was in the year--oh! never mind the year, it was a long while agowhen I was much younger, that I went on a hunting expedition to thenorth of the Limpopo River which borders the Transvaal. My companion wasa gentleman of the name of Scroope, Charles Scroope. He had come out toDurban from England in search of sport. At least, that was one of hisreasons. The other was a lady whom I will call Miss Margaret Manners,though that was not her name.It seems that these two were engaged to be married, and really attachedto each other. Unfortunately, however, they quarrelled violently aboutanother gentlemen with whom Miss Manners danced four consecutive dances,including two that were promised to her fiancé at a Hunt ball in Essex,where they all lived. Explanations, or rather argument, followed. Mr.Scroope said that he would not tolerate such conduct. Miss Mannersreplied that she would not be dictated to; she was her own mistress andmeant to remain so. Mr. Scroope exclaimed that she might so far as hewas concerned. She answered that she never wished to see his face again.He declared with emphasis that she never should and that he was going toAfrica to shoot elephants.What is more, he went, starting from his Essex home the next day withoutleaving any address. As it transpired afterwards, long afterwards, hadhe waited till the post came in he would have received a letter thatmight have changed his plans. But they were high-spirited young people,both of them, and played the fool after the fashion of those in love.Well, Charles Scroope turned up in Durban, which was but a poor placethen, and there we met in the bar of the Royal Hotel.If you want to kill big game, I heard some one say, who it wasI really forget, there's the man to show you how to do it--HunterQuatermain; the best shot in Africa and one of the finest fellows, too.I sat still, smoking my pipe and pretending to hear nothing. It isawkward to listen to oneself being praised, and I was always a shy man.Then after a whispered colloquy Mr. Scroope was brought forward andintroduced to me. I bowed as nicely as I could and ran my eye over him.He was a tall young man with dark eyes and a rather romantic aspect(that was due to his love affair), but I came to the conclusion that Iliked the cut of his jib. When he spoke, that conclusion was affirmed. Ialways think there is a great deal in a voice; personally, I judge by italmost as much as by the face. This voice was particularly pleasant andsympathetic, though there was nothing very original or striking in thewords by which it was, so to speak, introduced to me. These were:How do you do, sir. Will you have a split?I answered that I never drank spirits in the daytime, or at least notoften, but that I should be pleased to take a small bottle of beer.When the beer was consumed we walked up together to my little houseon which is now called the Berea, the same in which, amongst others, Ireceived my friends, Curtis and Good, in after days, and there we dined.Indeed, Charlie Scroope never left that house until we started on ourshooting expedition.Now I must cut all this story short, since it is only incidentally thatit has to do with the tale I am going to tell. Mr. Scroope was a richman and as he offered to pay all the expenses of the expedition while Iwas to take all the profit in the shape of ivory or anything else thatmight accrue, of course I did not decline his proposal.Everything went well with us on that trip until its unfortunate end.We only killed two elephants, but of other game we found plenty. It waswhen we were near Delagoa Bay on our return that the accident happened.We were out one evening trying to shoot something for our dinner, whenbetween the trees I caught sight of a small buck. It vanished round alittle promontory of rock which projected from the side of the kloof,walking quietly, not running in alarm. We followed after it. Digital Content>E-books>Literature>Literature>Lit Companions, SAP Digital >16<

ISBN: 2940012790910

ALLAN AND THE HOLY FLOWER Allan-and-the-Holy-Flower~~H-Rider-Haggard Literature>Literature>Lit Companions NOOK Book (eBook), SAP