[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

am not a "picture-daddy" - a professional story-teller - but I will tell you my favourite. It
 60
concerns the young girl who comes to the toll bridge. She tosses one sen, a very small
piece of money, to the watchman, and walks on. The watchman calls after her, "Hey!
You know that the toll for crossing the bridge is two sen." The girl answers, "But I do not
intend to cross the bridge. I intend only to go halfway and then throw myself into the
river." ' Tiger laughed uproariously.
Bond smiled politely. 'I must save that one up for London. They'll split their sides over
it.'
The small speck on the horizon grew larger and soon revealed itself as a horned
island about five miles in circumference with steep cliffs and a small harbour facing
north. On the mainland, Doctor Shatterhand's small peninsula reached out into the sea,
and the fortress-like black wall soared up out of the breaking waves. Above it were the
tops of trees, and, behind them, in the distance, the winged roof of the topmost storey
of the castle broke the skyline. The formidable silhouette reminded Bond vaguely of
photographs of Alcatraz taken from sea-level. He shivered slightly at the thought of the
night's swim across the half-mile channel and of the black spider that would then scale
those soaring fortifications. Ah well! He turned his attention back to Kuro Island.
It appeared to be made of black volcanic rock, but there was much green vegetation
right up to the summit of a small peak on which there was some kind of a stone beacon.
When they rounded the headland that formed one arm of the bay, a crowded little
village and a jetty appeared. Out to sea, thirty or more rowing boats were scattered and
there was the occasional glint of pink flesh in the sunlight. Naked children were playing
among the big smooth black boulders that tumbled like bathing hippos along the
shoreline, and there were green nets hung up to dry. It was a pretty scene, with the
delicate remoteness, the fairyland quality, of small fishing communities all the world
over. Bond took an immediate liking to the place, as if he was arriving at a destination
that had been waiting for him and that would be friendly and welcoming.
A group of village elders, grave, gnarled old men with the serious expressions of
simple people on important occasions, led by the Shinto priest, was on the jetty to
welcome them. The priest was in ceremonial robes, a dark-red, three-quarter-length
kimono with vast hanging sleeves, a turquoise skirt in broad pleats and the traditional
shining black hat in the shape of a blunt cone. He was a man of simple dignity and
considerable presence, middle-aged, with a round face and round spectacles and a
pursed, judging mouth. His shrewd eye took them in one by one as they came ashore,
but they rested longest on Bond. Superintendent Ando was greeted with friendship as
well as respect. This was part of his parish, and he was the ultimate source of all fishing
permits, reflected Bond ungraciously, but he had to admit that the deference of the
bows was not exaggerated and that he was lucky in his ambassador. They proceeded
up the cobbled path of the main street to the priest's house, a modest, weather-beaten
affair of stone and carpentered driftwood. They entered and sat on the spotless
polished wood floor in an arc in front of the priest, and the Superintendent made a long
speech punctuated by serious 'Hai's' and 'Ah, so desu ka's' from the priest, who
occasionally let his wise eyes rest thoughtfully on Bond. He made a short speech in
return, to which the Superintendent and Tiger listened with deference. Tiger replied,
and the business of the meeting was over save for the inevitable tea.
Bond asked Tiger how his presence and mission had been explained. Tiger said that
it would have been of no use lying to the priest who was a shrewd man, so he-had been
told most of the truth. The priest had expressed regret that such extreme measures
were contemplated, but he agreed that the castle across the sea was a most evil place
and its owner a man in league with the devil. In the circumstances, he would give the
project his blessing and James Bond would be allowed to stay on the island for the
minimum time necessary to accomplish his mission.
The priest would invite the Suzuki family to accord him an honourable welcome. Bond
would be explained away to the elders as a famous gaijin anthropologist who had come
 61
to study the Ama way of life. Bond should therefore study it, but the priest requested
that Bond should behave in a sincere manner. 'Which means,' explained Tiger with a
malicious grin,'that you are not to go to bed with the girls.'
In the evening they walked back to the jetty. The sea was a dark slate colour and
mirror-calm. The little boats, bedecked with coloured flags which meant that it had been
an exceptional day's fishing, were winging their way back. The entire population of
Kuro, perhaps two hundred souls, was lined up along the shore to greet the heroines of
the day, the older people holding carefully folded shawls and blankets to warm up the
girls on their way to their homes where, according to Tiger, they would be given hot
basin-baths to get back their circulation and remove all traces of salt.Itwas now five
o'clock. They would be asleep by eight, said Tiger, and out again with the dawn. Tiger
was sympathetic. 'You will have to adjust your hours, Bondo-san. And your way of life.
The Ama live very frugally, very cheaply, for their earnings are small - no more than the
price of sparrows' tears, as we say. And for heaven's sake be very polite to the parents,
particularly the father. As for Kissy& ' He left the sentence hanging in the air.
Eager hands reached for each boat and, with happy shouts, pulled it up on the black
pebbles. Big wooden tubs were lifted out and rushed up the beach to a kind of rickety
market where, according to Tiger, the awabi were graded and priced. Meanwhile, the
chattering, smiling girls waded in through the shallows and cast modestly appraising
glances at the three mainland strangers on the jetty.
To Bond, they all seemed beautiful and gay in the soft evening light the proud,
rather coarse-nippled breasts, the gleaming, muscled buttocks, cleft by the black cord
that held in place the frontal triangle of black cotton, the powerful thong round the waist
with its string of oval lead weights, through which was stuck an angular steel pick, the
white rag round the tumbled hair and, below, the laughing dark eyes and lips that were
happy with the luck of the day. At that moment, it all seemed to Bond as the world, as
life, should be, and he felt ashamed of his city-slicker appearance, let alone the black
designs it concealed.
One girl, rather taller than the rest, seemed to pay no attention to the men on the jetty
or to the police launch riding beside it. She was the centre of a crowd of laughing girls
as she waded with a rather long, perhaps studied, stride over the shiny black pebbles [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

zanotowane.pl

doc.pisz.pl

pdf.pisz.pl

glaz.keep.pl