Серце темряви

           Whatwecouldseewasjustthesteamerwewereon,heroutlinesblurredasthoughshehadbeenonthepointofdissolving,andamistystripofwater,perhapstwofeetbroad,aroundher—andthatwasall.Therestoftheworldwasnowhere,asfarasoureyesandearswereconcerned.Justnowhere.Gone,disappeared;sweptoffwithoutleavingawhisperorashadowbehind.

           "Iwentforward,andorderedthechaintobehauledinshort,soastobereadytotriptheanchorandmovethesteamboatatonceifnecessary.‘Willtheyattack?’whisperedanawedvoice.‘Wewillbeallbutcheredinthisfog,’murmuredanother.Thefacestwitchedwiththestrain,thehandstrembledslightly,theeyesforgottowink.Itwasverycurioustoseethecontrastofexpressionsofthewhitemenandoftheblackfellowsofourcrew,whowereasmuchstrangerstothatpartoftheriveraswe,thoughtheirhomeswereonlyeighthundredmilesaway.Thewhites,ofcoursegreatlydiscomposed,hadbesidesacuriouslookofbeingpainfullyshockedbysuchanoutrageousrow.Theothershadanalert,naturallyinterestedexpression;buttheirfaceswereessentiallyquiet,eventhoseoftheoneortwowhogrinnedastheyhauledatthechain.Severalexchangedshort,gruntingphrases,whichseemedtosettlethemattertotheirsatisfaction.Theirheadman,ayoung,broad-chestedblack,severelydrapedindark-bluefringedcloths,withfiercenostrilsandhishairalldoneupartfullyinoilyringlets,stoodnearme.‘Aha!’Isaid,justforgoodfellowship’ssake.