Серце темряви
Chapter 2
Thebroadeningwatersflowedthroughamobofwoodedislands;youlostyourwayonthatriverasyouwouldinadesert,andbuttedalldaylongagainstshoals,tryingtofindthechannel,tillyouthoughtyourselfbewitchedandcutoffforeverfromeverythingyouhadknownonce—somewhere—faraway—inanotherexistenceperhaps.Thereweremomentswhenone’spastcamebacktoone,asitwillsometimeswhenyouhavenotamomenttospareforyourself;butitcameintheshapeofanunrestfulandnoisydream,rememberedwithwonderamongsttheoverwhelmingrealitiesofthisstrangeworldofplants,andwater,andsilence.Andthisstillnessoflifedidnotintheleastresembleapeace.Itwasthestillnessofanimplacableforcebroodingoveraninscrutableintention.Itlookedatyouwithavengefulaspect.Igotusedtoitafterwards;Ididnotseeitanymore;Ihadnotime.Ihadtokeepguessingatthechannel;Ihadtodiscern,mostlybyinspiration,thesignsofhiddenbanks;Iwatchedforsunkenstones;Iwaslearningtoclapmyteethsmartlybeforemyheartflewout,whenIshavedbyaflukesomeinfernalslyoldsnagthatwouldhaverippedthelifeoutofthetin-potsteamboatanddrownedallthepilgrims;Ihadtokeepalookoutforthesignsofdeadwoodwecouldcutupinthenightfornextday’ssteaming.Whenyouhavetoattendtothingsofthatsort,tothemereincidentsofthesurface,thereality—thereality,Itellyou—fades.Theinnertruthishidden—luckily,luckily.
