ush on through. His need was to exist, and to move onwards at
the greatest possible risk, and with a maximum of privation. If the
absolutely pure, uncalculating, unpractical spirit of adventure had ever
ruled a human being, it ruled this be-patched youth. I almost envied
him the possession of this modest and clear flame. It seemed to have
consumed all thought of self so completely, that, even while he was
talking to you, you forgot that it was he--the man before your eyes--who
had gone through these things. I did not envy him his devotion to Kurtz,
though. He had not meditated over it. It came to him, and he accepted it
with a sort of eager fatalism. I must say that to me it appeared about
the most dangerous thing in every way he had come upon so far.
"They had come together unavoidably, like two ships becalmed near
each other, and lay rubbing sides at last. I suppose Kurtz wanted an
audience, because on a certain occasion, when encamped in the forest,
they had talked all night, or more probably Kurtz had talked. 'We talked
of everything,' he said, quite transported at the recollection. 'I
forgot there was such a thing as sleep. The night did not seem to last
an hour. Everything! Everything! . . . Of love too.' 'Ah, he talked to
you of love!' I said, much amused. 'It isn't what you think,' he cried,
almost passionately. 'It was in general. He made me see things--things.'
"He threw his arms up. We were on deck at the time, and the headman
of my wood-cutters, lounging near by, turned upon him his heavy and
glittering eyes. I looked around, and I don't know why, but I assure you
that never, never before, did this land, this river, this jungle, the
very arch of this blazing sky, appear to me so hopeless and so dark, so
impenetrable to human thought, so pitiless to human weakness. 'And, ever
since, you have been with him, of course?' I said.
"On the contrary. It appears their intercourse had been very much broken
by various causes. He had, as he informed me proudly, managed to nurse
Kurtz through two illnesses (he alluded to it as you would to some risky
feat), but as a rule Kurtz wandered alone, far in the depths of the
forest. 'Very often coming to this station, I had to wait days and
days before he would turn up,' he said. 'Ah, it was worth waiting
for!--sometimes.' 'What was he doing? exploring or what?' I asked. 'Oh
yes, of course;' he had discovered lots of villages, a lake too--he
did not know exactly in what dire
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