The golden pool : $b A story of a forgotten mineFreeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin)
General
The golden pool : $b A story of a forgotten mine
Freeman, R. Austin (Richard Austin)
British -- Africa -- Fiction; Mines and mineral resources -- Fiction
“Thy wife!” exclaimed Aminé hoarsely. “Thou toldest me nothing of
this!”
She made a sudden snatch at the locket, which I narrowly evaded, and
hastened to stow the precious bauble out of harm’s way.
“I will get that thing and fling it in the fire,” Aminé declared in a
voice husky with anger, “and as to the woman, I will kill her when I
meet her.”
I made no reply, being not a little distressed at the turn things were
taking.
“Why didst not thou tell me?” Aminé continued passionately, “that
thou hadst a beautiful wife, one far more handsome than me? I would
not have come with thee. Abduláhi would have taken me gladly.”
I wished most fervently that he had, but held my peace.
Suddenly she burst into a storm of sobs, beating her breast and
moaning aloud, and tearing the coral necklace asunder, she flung it
down in the road.
I feigned not to see this, and presently she went back and picked it
up, but she did not again overtake me, but continued to follow some
twenty or thirty yards behind.
Throughout the day she maintained an attitude of sullen aloofness,
never coming near me nor speaking unless under actual necessity, and
when she was compelled to address me she spoke with a gruff curtness
in extreme contrast to her usual soft and winning manner. Her altered
behaviour was viewed with but ill-concealed amusement by the
musicians, and Ali took the opportunity to adopt a highly insinuating
and sympathetic manner towards her; but his attempts to fish in
troubled waters met with no better result than a vehemently uttered
threat on her part to break his skull with a large stone.
Late in the afternoon we turned off the road on which we had been
travelling, and took a small and indistinct track, which Osman
informed me would shorten our journey by a couple of days, and which
presently brought us to a tiny hamlet on the bank of the river Tain--a
large tributary of the Firráo or Volta. Here Aminé obtained for
herself and me a house which stood in a small compound of its own, and
she commenced to prepare our meal, leaving the minstrels to make their
own arrangements. When the meal was ready she took it into the house,
and set it before me in silence; but instead of sitting down with me
to share it, she went out into the compound and supped alone by the
fire.
By the time I had finished eating the night had closed in and the hut
was in darkness, but presently Aminé brought in a large shea-butter
lamp or candle and set it on the floor; then she cleared away the
remains of the food, and again left me in solitude.
For a long time I sat cross-legged at the end of my mat, watching the
shadows dance upon the walls as the unsteady flame flickered in the
draught, meditating gloomily upon this new complication in my affairs,
and wondering what the end of it would be. My reflections were at
length interrupted by the entrance of Aminé, who walked straight up
to my mat, and, kneeling down upon it, laid her head upon my feet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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