Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat - Ernest Bramah - ebook

Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat ebook

Ernest Bramah



The Kai Lung books are really short-story collections, whose disparate, rambling tales are knitted together by framing narratives featuring the eponymous travelling storyteller. The third in Bramah’s Kai Lung series of fantasy novels. „Kai Lung Unrolls His Mat”, like the others in the series consists of thinly connected stories related by Kai Lung, concerning the adventures of the storyteller and his lady love Hwa-Mei versus the wicked but ever-smooth Mandarin Shan Tien and his despicable accomplice Ming-Shu. Kai Lung’s adventures are related with humor and irony, his shrewdness and wisdom conveyed in euphemisms, paradoxes and parables. Bramah’s droll writing style went a long way toward making the Kai Lung series so popular. The Kai Lung books are easily Bramah’s greatest achievement; they’re as worthy of their somewhat neglected place in the pantheon of British humour as the delightful comic trivia of Wodehouse.

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Liczba stron: 461

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CHAPTER I. The Malignity of the Depraved Ming-shu Rears Its Offensive Head

CHAPTER II. The Difficult Progression of the Virtuous Kai Lung Assumes a Concrete Form

CHAPTER III. The Further Continuance of Kai Lung’s Quest and His Opportune Encounter with an Outcast Band, All Ignorant Of The Classical Examples of the Past

CHAPTER IV. At the Extremity of His Resource, the Continent Kai Lung Encounters One Who Leads the Unaffected Life

CHAPTER V. The Meeting by the Way with the Warrior of Chi-U and What Emerged Therefrom

CHAPTER VI. The Ambiguous Face Upon the One Found in a Wood and the Effete Ming-shu’s Dilemma

CHAPTER VII. The Concave-Witted Li-Loe’s Insatiable Craving Serves a Meritorious End and Two (Who Shall Be Nameless) Are Led Toward a Snare

CHAPTER VIII. In Which the Position of the Estimable Kai Lung Is Such That He Must Either Go Up or Down

CHAPTER IX. Wherein the Footsteps of the Two Who Have Induced These Printed Leaves Assume a Homeward Bend



CHAPTER X. How Kai Lung Sought to Discourage One Who Did Not Gain His Approbation


CHAPTER XI. Whereby the Angle at Which Events Present Themselves May Be Varied




The Malignity of the Depraved Ming-shu Rears Its Offensive Head

As Kai Lung turned off the dusty earth road and took the woodland path that led to his small but seemly cottage on the higher slope, his exultant heart rose up in song. His quest, indeed, had not been prolific of success, and he was returning with a sleeve as destitute of silver taels as when he had first set out, but the peach tree about his gate would greet him with a thousand perfumed messages of welcome, and standing expectant at the door he would perchance presently espy the gracefully outlined form of Hwa-mei, once called the Golden Mouse.

“As I climb the precipitous hillside,” [he chanted], “My thoughts persistently dwell on the one who awaits my coming; Though her image has never been wholly absent from my mind, For our affections are as the two ends of a stretching cable– united by what divides them; And harmony prevails. Each sunrise renews the pearly splendour of her delicate being; And floating weed recalls her abundant hair. In the slender willows of the Yengtse valley I see her silken eye-lashes, And the faint tint of the waving moon-flower tells of her jade-rivalled cheek. Where is the exactitude of her matchless perfection–”

“There is a time to speak in hyperbole and a time to frame words to the limit of a narrow edge,” interposed a contentious voice and Shen Hing, an elderly neighbour, appeared in the way. “What manner of man are you, Kai Lung, or does some alien Force possess you that you should reveal this instability of mind on the very threshold of misfortune?”

“Greetings, estimable wood-cutter,” replied Kai Lung, who knew the other’s morose habit; “yet wherefore should despondency arise? It is true that the outcome of my venture has been concave in the extreme, but, whatever befall, the produce of a single field will serve our winter need; while now the air is filled with gladness and the song of insects, and, shortly, Hwa-mei will discern me on the homeward track and come hurriedly to meet me with a cup of water in her hand. How, then, can heaviness prevail?”

At this, Shen Hing turned half aside, under the pretext that he required to spit, but he coughed twice before he could recompose his voice.

“Whence are you, amiable Kai Lung?” he asked with unaccustomed mildness; “and have you of late had speech with none?”

“I am, last of all, from Shun, which lies among the Seven Water-heads,” was the reply. “Thinking to shorten the path of my return, I chose the pass known as the Locust’s Leap, and from this cause I have encountered few. Haply you have some gratifying tidings that you would impart–yet should not these await another’s telling, when seated around our own domestic hearth?”

“Haply,” replied Shen Hing, with the same evasive bearing, “but there is a fall no less than a rise to every tide, and is it not further said that of three words that reach our ears two will be evil?”

“Does famine then menace the province?” demanded Kai Lung uneasily.

“There is every assurance of an abundant harvest, and already the sound of many blades being whetted is not unknown to us.”

“It can scarcely be that the wells are failing our community again? Fill in the essential detail of your shadowy warning, O dubious Shen Hing, for I am eager to resume my homeward way, whatever privation threatens.”

“It is better to come empty handed than to be the bearer of ill news,” answered the sombre woodman, “but since you lay the burden on my head, it is necessary that you should turn your impatient feet aside to ascend yonder slight incline,” and he pointed to a rocky crag that rose above the trees. “From this height, minstrel, now bend your discriminating gaze a few li to the west and then declare what there attracts your notice.”

“That is the direction in which my meagre hut is placed,” admitted Kai Lung, after he had searched the distance long and anxiously, “but, although the landmarks are familiar, that which I most look for eludes my mediocre eyes. It must be that the setting sun–”

“Even a magician cannot see the thing that is not there,” replied Shen Hing meaningly. “Doubtless your nimble-witted mind will now be suitably arranged for what is to follow.”

“Say on,” adjured Kai Lung, taking a firmer hold upon the inner fibre of his self control. “If it should be more than an ordinary person can reasonably bear, I call upon the shades of all my virtuous ancestors to rally to my aid.”

“Had but one of them put in a appearance a week ago, it might have served you better, for, as it is truly written, ‘A single humble friend with rice when you are hungry is better than fifteen influential kinsmen coming to a feast,’ ” retorted Shen Hing. “Hear my lamentable word, however. It has for some time been rumoured that the banners of insurrection were being trimmed and the spears of revolt made ready.”

“There was a whisper trickling through the land when I set forth,” murmured Kai Lung. “But in this sequestered region, surely–”

“The trickle meanwhile grew into a swiftly moving stream, although the torrent seemed as though it would spare our peaceful valley. Like a faint echo from some far-off contest we heard that the standard of the Avenging Knife had been definitely raised and all men were being pressed into this scale or that of the contending causes… . High among the rebel council stood one who had, it is said, suffered an indignity at your requiting hand in the days gone by–Ming-shu his forbidding name.”

“Ming-shu!” exclaimed Kai Lung, falling back a step before the ill-omened menace of that malignant shadow. “Can it be that the enmity of the inscriber of the Mandarin’s spoken word has pursued me to this retreat?”

“It is, then, even as men told,” declared Shen Hing, with no attempt to forego an overhanging bitterness, “and you, Kai Lung, whom we received in friendship, have brought this disaster to our doors. Could demons have done more?”

“Speak freely,” invoked Kai Lung, averting his face, “and do not seek to spare this one’s excessive self-reproach. What next occurred?”

“We of our settlement are a peaceful race, neither vainglorious nor trained to the use of arms, and the opposing camps of warriors had so far passed us by, going either on the Eastern or the Western Route and none turning aside. But in a misbegotten moment Ming-shu fell under a deep depression while in his tent at no great space away, and one newly of his band, thinking to disclose a fount of gladness, spoke of your admitted capacity as a narrator of imagined tales, with a special reference to the serviceable way in which the aptitude had extricated you from a variety of unpleasant transactions in the past.”

“That would undoubtedly refresh the wells of Ming-shu’s memory,” remarked Kai Lung. “How did he testify the fullness of his joy?”

“It is related that, when those who stood outside heard the grinding of his ill assorted teeth, the rumour spread that the river banks were giving way. At a later period the clay-souled outlaw was seen to rub his offensive hands pleasurably together and heard to remark that there is undoubtedly a celestial influence that moulds our ultimate destinies even though we ourselves may appear to trim the edges somewhat. He then directed a chosen company of his repulsive guard to surprise and surround our dwellings and to bring you a bound captive to his feet.”

“Alas!” exclaimed Kai Lung. “It would have been more in keeping with the classical tradition that they should have taken me, rather than that others must suffer in my stead.”

“There can be no two opinions on that score,” replied the scrupulous Shen Hing, “but a literary aphorism makes a poor defense against a suddenly propelled battle axe, and before mutual politeness was restored a score of our tribe had succumbed to the force of the opposing argument. Then, on the plea that a sincere reconciliation demanded the interchange of gifts, they took whatever we possessed, beat us heavily about the head and body with clubs in return, and departed, after cutting down your orchard and setting fire to your very inflammably constructed hut, in order, as their leader courteously expressed it, ‘to lighten the path of your return.’”

“But she–Hwa-mei,” urged Kai Lung thickly. “Speak to a point now that the moment must be faced–the cord is at my heart.”

“In that you are well matched, for another was about her neck when she went forth,” replied Shen Hing concisely. “Thus, Ming-shu may be said to possess a double hold upon your destiny.”

“And thereafter? She–?”

“Why, as to that, the outlook is obscure. But a brigand with whom I conversed–albeit one-sidedly, he standing upon this person’s prostrate form meanwhile–boasted of the exploit. Hwa-mei would seem to be a lure by which it is hoped to attract some high official’s shifting allegiance to the rebel cause, she having held a certain sway upon him in the past.”

“The Mandarin Shan Tien–now a provincial governor!” exclaimed Kai Lung. “Thus our ancient strife asserts itself again, though the angles ever change. But she lives–at least that is assured.”

“She lives,” agreed Shen Hing dispassionately, “but so likewise does Ming-shu. If he was your avowed enemy, minstrel, you did wrong to spare him in the past, for ‘If you leave the stricken bull his horns, he will yet contrive to gore you.’”

“It is no less written, ‘The malice of the unworthy is more to be prized than an illuminated vellum,’” replied Kai Lung. “Furthermore, the ultimate account has not yet been cast. In which direction did Ming-shu’s force proceed, and how long are they gone?”

“One who overlooked their camp spoke of them as marching to the west, and for three days now have we been free of their corroding presence. That being so, the more valiant among us are venturing down from about the treetops, and tomorrow life will begin afresh, doubtless as before. Have no fear therefore, storyteller; Ming-shu will not return.”

“It is on that very issue that I am troubled,” was Kai Lung’s doubtful answer. “Ming-shu may still return.”

“Then at least do not show it, for we are all in the same plight,” urged the woodman. “Tomorrow we assemble to repair the broken walls and fences, so that in the association of our numbers you may gain assurance.”

“The spirit you display is admittedly contagious,” agreed Kai Lung. “In the meanwhile, I will seek my devastated ruin to see if haply anything remains. There was a trivial store of some few bars of silver hidden about the roof. Should that hope fail, I am no worse off than he who possesses nothing.”

“I will accompany and sustain you, neighbour,” declared Shen Hing more cheerfully. “In sudden fortune, whether good or bad, men become as brothers.”

“Do so if you feel you must,” replied Kai Lung, “though I would rather be alone. But, in any case, I will do the actual searching–it would be the reverse of hospitable to set you to a task.”

When they reached the ruin of his once befitting home, Kai Lung could not forbear an emotion of despair, but he indicated to Shen Hing how that one should stand a reasonable distance away while he himself sought among the ashes.

“A steady five cash a day is better than the prospect of a fortune.” Shen Hing busied himself looking for earth-nuts, but in spite of the apt proverb his sombre look returned.

“Even this slender chance has faded,” reported Kai Lung at length, approaching Shen Hing again. “Nothing remains, and I must now adventure forth on an untried way with necessity alone to be my guide. Farewell, compassionate Shen Hing.”

“But what new vagary is here?” exclaimed Shen Hing, desisting from his search. “Is it not your purpose to join in the toil of restoring our settlement, when we, in turn, will support you in the speedy raising of your fallen roof?”

“There is a greater need that calls me, and every day Hwa-mei turns her expectant eyes toward the path of rescue,” replied Kai Lung.

“Hwa-mei! But she is surrounded by a rebel guard in Ming-shu’s camp, a hundred li or more away by now. Consider well, storyteller. It is very easy on an unknown road to put your foot into a trap or your head into a noose, but by patient industry one can safely earn enough to replace a wife with a few successful harvests.”

“When this one lay captive in Ming-shu’s power, she whom you would so readily forsake did not weigh the hazards of snare or rope with an appraising eye, but came hastening forward, offering life itself in two outstretched hands. Would a dog do less than follow now?”

“That is as it may be, and I have certainly heard some account of the affair at various times,” replied Shen Hing craftily, for he well knew that Kai Lung’s reciting voice would lighten the task of each succeeding day. “But even a beggar will not cross a shaking bridge by night, and how are you, who have neither gold wherewith to purchase justice nor force by which to compel it, to out-do the truculent Ming-shu, armed at every point?”

“I have sandals for my feet, a well-tried staff between my hands, a story on my lips, and the divine assurance that integrity will in the end prevail,” was Kai Lung’s modest boast. “What, therefore, can I lack?”

” ‘In the end’?” repeated Shen Hing darkly. “Admittedly. But an ordinary person inclines to something less ambitious provided it can be relied upon more toward the middle. You are one who is prone to resort to analogies and signs, Kai Lung, to guide you in the emergencies of life. How can you then justify a journey entered upon so suddenly and without reference to the omens?”

“He who moves toward the light has no need of the glow of joss-sticks,” replied Kai Lung, indicating the brightness that still lingered in the sky. “The portent will not fail.”

“It is certainly a point to be noted,” confessed Shen Hing, “and I cannot altogether expect to dissuade you in the circumstances. But do not overlook the fact that the sun has already set and nothing but dark and forbidding clouds now fill the heavens.”

“We can see only the clouds, but the clouds can see the sun,” was the confident reply. “Success is a matter of luck, but every man obeys his destiny.”

With this inspired pronouncement, Kai Lung turned his back upon the ruin of his unassuming home and set out again, alone and destitute, upon an unknown path. Shen Hing pressed into his sleeve the few inferior nuts that he had laboriously collected, but he did not offer to accompany the storyteller on his way. Indeed, as soon as he was reasonably sure that he was free from interruption, the discriminating wood-cutter began to search the ashes on his own account, to see if haply there was not something of value that Kai Lung had perchance overlooked.

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