Кінець рабства
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Apockmarkedpeddlerofsmallwaresthrewhisheadbacktodrainintohisthroatthelastdropsoutofanearthenwarebottlebeforeputtingitawayinarollofblankets.Knotsoftravelingtradersstandingaboutthedeckconversedinlowtones;thefollowersofasmallRajahfromdownthecoast,broad-faced,simpleyoungfellowsinwhitedrawersandroundwhitecottoncapswiththeircoloredsarongstwistedacrosstheirbronzeshoulders,squattedontheirhamsonthehatch,chewingbetelwithbrightredmouthsasiftheyhadbeentastingblood.Theirspears,lyingpileduptogetherwithinthecircleoftheirbaretoes,resembledacasualbundleofdrybamboos;athin,lividChinaman,withabulkypackagewrappedupinleavesalreadythrustunderhisarm,gazedaheadeagerly;awanderingKlingrubbedhisteethwithabitofwood,pouringoverthesideabrightstreamofwateroutofhislips;thefatRajahdozedinashabbydeck-chair,—andattheturnofeverybendthetwowallsofleavesreappearedrunningparallelalongthebanks,withtheirimpenetrablesolidityfadingatthetoptoavaporousmistinessofcountlessslendertwigsgrowingfree,ofyoungdelicatebranchesshootingfromthetopmostlimbsofhoarytrunks,offeatheryheadsofclimberslikedelicatesilverspraysstandingupwithoutaquiver.
