Vietnam Literature.
Short story: Salt Of The Jungle (Muối Của Rừng)
Writer: Nguyen Huy Thiep
Translated by: Greg Lockhart
Translated by: Greg Lockhart
A MONTH after the New Year is the best time to be in the jungle. The vegetation is bursting with fresh buds, and its leaves are deep green and moist. Nature is both daunting and delicate, and this is due, in large measure, to the showers of spring rain.
At around this time, your feet sink into carpets of rot-ting leaves, you inhale pure air, and, sometimes, your body shudders with pleasure, because a drop of water has fallen from a leaf and struck your bare shoulder. Miraculously, the vexations of your daily life can be completely forgotten, because a small squirrel has sprung onto a branch. And, as it happened, it was at just such a time that Mr. Dieu went hunting.
The idea to go hunting had come to him when his son, who was studying in a foreign country, sent him a gift of a double-barreled shotgun. The gun was as light as a toy, and so sleek that he could not have dreamt such a beautiful thing existed. Mr. Dieu was sixty, and, at that age, both a new shotgun and a spring day for the hunt really made life worth living.
To dress for the occasion, he put on a warm quilted coat and trousers, a fur hat, and laced up a pair of high boots. To be well prepared, he also took a ration of sticky rice rolled into a ball the size of his fist. He moved up along the bed of a dry stream toward its source, a mile from which was the fabled kingdom of limestone caves.
Mr. Dieu turned onto a beaten track that wound through the jungle. As he moved along, he was aware that the trees on either side were full of bluebirds. Yet, he did not shoot. With a gun like his, it would have been a waste of ammunition, especially when he had already had his fill of bluebirds. They were tasty enough, but had a fishy flavor. In any case, he had no need to shoot birds with a loft full of pigeons at home.
At a turn in the track, Mr. Dieu was startled by a rustling in a bush. A clump of motley vines flew up in front of his face, and, as he caught his breath, a pair of jungle fowls shot out in front of the bush with their heads down, clucking. Mr. Dieu raised his shotgun and aimed. However, the fowls did not present a good target. I’ll miss; he thought He considered the situation, and sat down motionless for a very long time, waiting for the jungle to become quiet again. The fowls would think there was no-body there: it would be better that way for them and for him.
The idea to go hunting had come to him when his son, who was studying in a foreign country, sent him a gift of a double-barreled shotgun. The gun was as light as a toy, and so sleek that he could not have dreamt such a beautiful thing existed. Mr. Dieu was sixty, and, at that age, both a new shotgun and a spring day for the hunt really made life worth living.
To dress for the occasion, he put on a warm quilted coat and trousers, a fur hat, and laced up a pair of high boots. To be well prepared, he also took a ration of sticky rice rolled into a ball the size of his fist. He moved up along the bed of a dry stream toward its source, a mile from which was the fabled kingdom of limestone caves.
Mr. Dieu turned onto a beaten track that wound through the jungle. As he moved along, he was aware that the trees on either side were full of bluebirds. Yet, he did not shoot. With a gun like his, it would have been a waste of ammunition, especially when he had already had his fill of bluebirds. They were tasty enough, but had a fishy flavor. In any case, he had no need to shoot birds with a loft full of pigeons at home.
At a turn in the track, Mr. Dieu was startled by a rustling in a bush. A clump of motley vines flew up in front of his face, and, as he caught his breath, a pair of jungle fowls shot out in front of the bush with their heads down, clucking. Mr. Dieu raised his shotgun and aimed. However, the fowls did not present a good target. I’ll miss; he thought He considered the situation, and sat down motionless for a very long time, waiting for the jungle to become quiet again. The fowls would think there was no-body there: it would be better that way for them and for him.
- Salt Of The Jungle, Vietnam literature -
The mountain range was full of towering peaks. Mr. Dieu looked at them as he contemplated his strength. To bag a monkey or a mountain goat would certainly be something. But he knew that mountain goats were difficult game. It was only by some stroke of luck that he would get a good shot at one, and he did not think that luck would come.
As he weighed carefully the pros and cons, Mr. Dieu decided to move along the foot of the limestone mountain range and hunt monkeys in the Dau Da Forest He would be surer of finding food and wasting less energy. Mount Hoa Qua and Thuy Liem Cave were along the valley and, like the forest, they were legendary monkey haunts. Mr. Dieu also knew that he did not have difficulty shooting monkeys.
As he weighed carefully the pros and cons, Mr. Dieu decided to move along the foot of the limestone mountain range and hunt monkeys in the Dau Da Forest He would be surer of finding food and wasting less energy. Mount Hoa Qua and Thuy Liem Cave were along the valley and, like the forest, they were legendary monkey haunts. Mr. Dieu also knew that he did not have difficulty shooting monkeys.
He stopped on a piece of rising ground, amid trees covered with climbing vines. This species of tree was un-known to him, with its silver leaves and golden flowers like earrings that hung down to the earth. Mr. Dieu sat quietly and observed, for he wanted to see if there were any monkeys there. These animals are as crafty as human beings; when they gather food they always put out sen-tries, and monkey sentries are very acute. If you don't see them, there is no hope for the hunt, no hope of hitting the leader of the troop. Of course, the-leader was only a monkey. But it was not just any monkey. It would be the one that fate had singled out for him. So he had to wait, had to be cunning if he wanted to shoot his monkey.
Mr. Dieu sat quietly and relaxed for half an hour. The spring weather was warm and silky It had been a long time since he had had the opportunity to sit as peacefully as this. And as he sat without a care in the world, the tranquillity of the jungle flowed through his being.
Suddenly, a swishing sound came rushing from out of the Dau Da Forest It was the sound of a large animal moving through the trees. Mr. Dieu knew it was the leader of a monkey troop. He also knew that this monkey was formidable. It would appear with the brutal self-confidence of a king. Mr. Dieu smiled and watched carefully.
The sound continued for a while; then, suddenly, the beast appeared. It rapidly propelled itself through the jungle as though it never rested. Mr. Dieu admired its nimbleness. However, it disappeared in a flash, leaving him with a sharp stab of disappointment that this king-like creature would not be his. The elation he had felt since leaving home that morning was beginning to sub-side.
As soon as the leader disappeared, a gaggle of about twenty monkeys swung into view, criss-crossing Mr. Dieu's field of vision from very many angles. Some of them appeared on perches high up in the trees, others swung through the branches, and still others sprang to the ground. Within this medley of movement, Mr. Dieu noticed three monkeys that stayed together: a male, a female, and their young baby. He knew immediately that this male monkey was his prey.
Mr. Dieu felt hot He took off his hat and quilted coat and placed them under a bush. He also placed his ball of sticky rice there. Gradually, he moved into a depression in the ground. He observed carefully, and noticed that the female monkey was standing guard. That was convenient, for with a becoming sense of vanity, she had distracted herself with the task of picking off her body lice.
Mr. Dieu made his calculations, then crept along, keeping windward of the female monkey. He had to get within twenty meters of the troop before he would be able to shoot He crawled rapidly and skillfully. Once he had located his prey, he was sure he would kill it. That monkey was his. He was so certain of this; he felt that if he stumbled or made a careless move it would not make any difference.
Yet, even though he thought like this, Mr. Dieu still stalked the monkey troop carefully. He knew that nature was full of surprises, that one could never be too cautious.
He rested the shotgun in the fork of a tree, while the family trio had no inkling that disaster was near. The father was perched in a tree plucking fruit and throwing it down to the mother and child. Before he threw it, he always selected the best fruit and ate it himself How contemptible, thought Mr. Dieu as he squeezed the trigger. The shotgun blast stunned the monkey troop for several seconds: the male monkey had fallen heavily to the ground with its arms outstretched.
The confusion into which the shotgun blast had thrown the monkey troop caused Mr. Dieu to tremble. He had done something cruel. His arms and legs went limp, with the kind of sensation that overcomes someone who has just overexerted himself with heavy work, and the troop disappeared into the jungle before he knew it. The female monkey and the baby also ran off after the others, but, after moving some distance, the female suddenly turned around and returned. Her mate, whose shoulder had been shattered by the shotgun pellets, was trying to raise himself but kept falling back to the ground.
Mr. Dieu sat quietly and relaxed for half an hour. The spring weather was warm and silky It had been a long time since he had had the opportunity to sit as peacefully as this. And as he sat without a care in the world, the tranquillity of the jungle flowed through his being.
Suddenly, a swishing sound came rushing from out of the Dau Da Forest It was the sound of a large animal moving through the trees. Mr. Dieu knew it was the leader of a monkey troop. He also knew that this monkey was formidable. It would appear with the brutal self-confidence of a king. Mr. Dieu smiled and watched carefully.
The sound continued for a while; then, suddenly, the beast appeared. It rapidly propelled itself through the jungle as though it never rested. Mr. Dieu admired its nimbleness. However, it disappeared in a flash, leaving him with a sharp stab of disappointment that this king-like creature would not be his. The elation he had felt since leaving home that morning was beginning to sub-side.
As soon as the leader disappeared, a gaggle of about twenty monkeys swung into view, criss-crossing Mr. Dieu's field of vision from very many angles. Some of them appeared on perches high up in the trees, others swung through the branches, and still others sprang to the ground. Within this medley of movement, Mr. Dieu noticed three monkeys that stayed together: a male, a female, and their young baby. He knew immediately that this male monkey was his prey.
Mr. Dieu felt hot He took off his hat and quilted coat and placed them under a bush. He also placed his ball of sticky rice there. Gradually, he moved into a depression in the ground. He observed carefully, and noticed that the female monkey was standing guard. That was convenient, for with a becoming sense of vanity, she had distracted herself with the task of picking off her body lice.
Mr. Dieu made his calculations, then crept along, keeping windward of the female monkey. He had to get within twenty meters of the troop before he would be able to shoot He crawled rapidly and skillfully. Once he had located his prey, he was sure he would kill it. That monkey was his. He was so certain of this; he felt that if he stumbled or made a careless move it would not make any difference.
Yet, even though he thought like this, Mr. Dieu still stalked the monkey troop carefully. He knew that nature was full of surprises, that one could never be too cautious.
He rested the shotgun in the fork of a tree, while the family trio had no inkling that disaster was near. The father was perched in a tree plucking fruit and throwing it down to the mother and child. Before he threw it, he always selected the best fruit and ate it himself How contemptible, thought Mr. Dieu as he squeezed the trigger. The shotgun blast stunned the monkey troop for several seconds: the male monkey had fallen heavily to the ground with its arms outstretched.
The confusion into which the shotgun blast had thrown the monkey troop caused Mr. Dieu to tremble. He had done something cruel. His arms and legs went limp, with the kind of sensation that overcomes someone who has just overexerted himself with heavy work, and the troop disappeared into the jungle before he knew it. The female monkey and the baby also ran off after the others, but, after moving some distance, the female suddenly turned around and returned. Her mate, whose shoulder had been shattered by the shotgun pellets, was trying to raise himself but kept falling back to the ground.
- Salt Of The Jungle, Vietnam literature -
The female monkey advanced carefully to where her mate had fallen and looked around, suspicious of the silence. The male monkey let out a pitiful scream, before he became silent again and listened, with a frantic expression on his face.
Oh, get away from there! Mr. Dieu groaned softly. But the female monkey looked as though she was prepared to sacrifice herself. She went to her mate and lifted him up in her arms. Mr. Dieu angrily raise his shotgun. Her readiness to sacrifice herself made him hate her like some bourgeois madame who paraded her noble nature. He knew all about the deceptions in which such theatrical performances were rooted; she could not deceive an old hunter like him.
As Mr. Dieu prepared to squeeze the trigger, the female monkey turned around and looked at him with terror in her eyes. She dropped the male monkey with a thud and fled. Mr. Dieu breathed a sigh of relief, then laughed quietly. He rose to his feet and left his hiding place.
I’ve made a mistake! Mr. Dieu cursed under his breath. For when he moved from his hiding place, the female monkey immediately turned around. She knows I'm human, he sighed, the game is up. Exactly so: the female monkey now kept him in the corner of her eye as she rushed headlong back to her mate. She deftly put her arms around him and hugged him to her chest. The two rolled around in a ball on the ground. She was acting like a crazy old woman. She was going to sacrifice herself recklessly, because of some noble instinct that nature prized. This stirred deep feelings of guilt in Mr. Dieu's heart He had revealed himself as an assassin, while the female monkey, who faced death, still bared her teeth in a smile. Whatever he did now, he could only suffer, he could never rest, and he could even die two years before his time if he shot the female monkey at this moment. And all of this was because he had come out of his hiding place two minutes too soon.
As if to torment him, the monkeys took each other by the hand and ran off. You pathetic old figure, Dieu, he thought sadly. With a pair of arthritic legs like yours, how are you going to run as fast as a monkey driven by loyalty and devotion? The female monkey waved her bow legs, grinned, and made obscene gestures. Mr. Dieu angrily hurled his shotgun down in front of him. He wanted to frighten the female monkey into releasing her mate.
At the moment the shotgun hit the ground, the baby monkey suddenly appeared from a rocky mound. It grabbed the sling of the shotgun and dragged it off along the ground. The three monkeys scurried off on all fours, shrieking. Mr. Dieu was struck dumb for a second, then burst out laughing: his predicament was so ridiculous.
He picked up a handful of dirt and stones and threw it at the monkeys, as he took off howling in pursuit The monkeys, who were terrified by these developments, split up, with the two adults veering off in the direction of the mountains and the baby running toward the cliff. Losing the shotgun will be disastrous, thought Mr. Dieu, and he continued to chase the baby monkey. He charged forward and narrowed the distance between them to the extent that only a jagged rock prevented him from reaching his gun.
By chasing the baby monkey, Mr. Dieu had taken a course of action that had extraordinary consequences. These began when the small monkey just rolled over the edge of the precipice, holding the shotgun sling tightly. Evidently, it was too inexperienced to react in any other way.
Mr. Dieu was pale and soaked with sweat He stood looking down over the cliff with his body shaking. From far below came the echo of a piercing scream, the likes of which he had never heard before. He drew back in fear, as a mist swirled up from the abyss and enveloped the vegetation around him. Very quickly the entire landscape was obscured by eerie vapors. He ran back to the mountain. It was perhaps the first time since childhood that Mr. Dieu had run as though he were being chased by a ghost.
Mr. Dieu was exhausted when he reached the foot of the mountain. He sat down on the ground, looking back in the direction of the precipice, which the mist had now obscured. He remembered suddenly that this was the most feared place in the valley: the place that hunters called Death Hollow. Here, with alarming regularity, somebody perished in the mist each year.
Ghosts? thought Mr. Dieu. Forsaken spirits usually take the form of white monkeys, don't they? It had been a white monkey that seized the gun. Moreover, this had been such an extraordinary action that Mr. Dieu began to wonder if what he had been chasing was really a monkey. Am I dreaming? he wondered, looking around. Is all of this happening? He stood up and looked at the mountain wall on the other side of Death Hollow He was stunned, for now, without a trace of mist, the dome of the sky was clear and vast, and the entire landscape was visible in every detail.
An agitated cry came from somewhere above him. Mr. Dieu looked up and there he saw the wounded monkey lying across a rock ledge. The female monkey was no-where to be seen, and so, very happy in the certainty that he would now catch his monkey, Mr. Dieu searched for a way to climb up on the rock ledge.
Finding a way up the side of the steep, slippery mountain was both difficult and dangerous. Mr. Dieu gauged his strength. Whatever way, I’m going to get that monkey, he murmured to himself, as he calmly used the crevices in the rock face to work his way up.
After about ten minutes, Mr. Dieu felt hot He chose a spot where he could stand, then took off his boots and outer garments and placed them in the fork of a mulberry tree. He climbed onward quickly with no doubts about his ability to reach the ledge.
The slab of rock on which the wounded monkey lay was smooth and seemed somewhat unstable. Beneath it, there was a crevice as wide as Mr. Dieu's hand, which would allow him to pull himself up. He shuddered, frightened by the feeling that the slab might move and roll down the mountain at any moment. Nature was cruel and might want to test his courage further.
Mr. Dieu finally pulled himself up on the rock ledge with his elbows, and there he saw an extremely beautiful monkey with fine golden hair. It lay prone with its hands raking across the surface of the rock, as if it were trying to pull itself along Its shoulder was stained red with blood. Mr. Dieu put his hand on the monkey and felt its feverish body heat Easier than putting a hand on a sparrow, he thought Next, he slipped his hand under the monkey's chest and lifted it to estimate its weight. However, he withdrew his hand quickly when the chest emitted a low, but very disconcerting hum, which made him feel that his intervention had aroused Death's fury. The monkey stirred Mr. Dieu's pity when it trembled and rolled its sluggish eyes toward him. The shotgun pellets had smashed the monkey's shoulder blade and come out through four centimeters of bone. Each time the bones rubbed together, the monkey writhed in pain.
“I can't leave you like that”, said Mr. Dieu. He picked up some Lao grass, crumpled it in his hand, and put it in the monkey's mouth. The monkey chewed the grass care-fully, while Mr. Dieu applied a handful of leaves to its wound to stem the bleeding. The monkey curled its body into a ball and again turned its moist eyes toward Mr. Dieu. The old man looked away
The monkey then buried its head in Mr. Dieu's arms, and a stammering sound came out of its mouth. The monkey was like a helpless child imploring him for help. Mr. Dieu felt very miserable. "It is better for me if you resist,’ he murmured, looking down at the suffering brow of the shriveled monkey. ”I am old, and you know the sympathy of old people is easily aroused. What can I use to bandage you, poor monkey?"
Mr. Dieu considered the situation. He had no choice but to take off his shorts and use them to bandage the monkey's wound. When he did this, the bleeding stopped and the monkey no longer groaned.
Naked now, Mr. Dieu picked the monkey up and kept adjusting its weight in his arms as he found his way back down the mountain. Then, suddenly, as though impelled by some force, the mountainside began to slide away with a tremendous roar from about halfway up.
An avalanche!
Mr. Dieu jumped in terror and clung tightly to a rock. A section of the path he had taken to come up the mountain now flashed down past him, leaving only the surface of the rock shorn smooth. Mr. Dieu could no longer see the mulberry tree where he had left his boots and outer garments. To descend that way was now impossible. He would have to circle around behind the mountain Even though it was farther this way, it was the only safe alternative.
Mr. Dieu groped his way down the mountain for more than two hours before he reached the bottom. He had never had as difficult and as exhausting an ordeal as that His body was covered in scratches. The monkey hovered between life and death, as he dragged it along the ground. For Mr. Dieu, it was agonizing to have to drag the monkey like that, but he no longer had the strength to carry it in his arms.
When Mr. Dieu reached the clump of bushes and vines he had hidden behind that morning, he stopped to pick up his hat and coat and the ball of sticky rice he had left there. But, to his astonishment, he found that a termites' nest as tall as rice stubble had risen in that spot. The nest was a sticky mound of fresh red eaith plastered together with termites' wings. Unfortunately, his things had been mixed up in the nest and turned to mash. Mr. Dieu sighed, turned around in frustration, and lifted the mon-key up in his arms. How humiliating it will be to return home naked, he scowled angrily. I'll become a laughing stock.
He set off, thinking about what he was going to do, and walked around in a circle until he found the track again. How did this happen? He burst out laughing. Who has ever shot a monkey like this? A sparrow-and-a-half of meat on it. Golden hair like dye. You shoot an animal like this even though you've got no clothes? Serves you right, you old fool!
There was a faint sound of something moving behind him. He gave a start, turned around, and recognized the female monkey, who immediately disappeared behind a bush. It turned out that she had followed Mr. Dieu from m, the mountain without his realizing it. How bizarre, he thought. After moving on for some distance, Mr. Dieu turned around again and, to his exasperation, saw that she put the male monkey down was still following him. He on the ground, gathered some stones, and chased the female monkey away. She gave a high-pitched scream and disappeared. When Mr. Dieu looked around a little later, she still tagged along behind him.
Oh, get away from there! Mr. Dieu groaned softly. But the female monkey looked as though she was prepared to sacrifice herself. She went to her mate and lifted him up in her arms. Mr. Dieu angrily raise his shotgun. Her readiness to sacrifice herself made him hate her like some bourgeois madame who paraded her noble nature. He knew all about the deceptions in which such theatrical performances were rooted; she could not deceive an old hunter like him.
As Mr. Dieu prepared to squeeze the trigger, the female monkey turned around and looked at him with terror in her eyes. She dropped the male monkey with a thud and fled. Mr. Dieu breathed a sigh of relief, then laughed quietly. He rose to his feet and left his hiding place.
I’ve made a mistake! Mr. Dieu cursed under his breath. For when he moved from his hiding place, the female monkey immediately turned around. She knows I'm human, he sighed, the game is up. Exactly so: the female monkey now kept him in the corner of her eye as she rushed headlong back to her mate. She deftly put her arms around him and hugged him to her chest. The two rolled around in a ball on the ground. She was acting like a crazy old woman. She was going to sacrifice herself recklessly, because of some noble instinct that nature prized. This stirred deep feelings of guilt in Mr. Dieu's heart He had revealed himself as an assassin, while the female monkey, who faced death, still bared her teeth in a smile. Whatever he did now, he could only suffer, he could never rest, and he could even die two years before his time if he shot the female monkey at this moment. And all of this was because he had come out of his hiding place two minutes too soon.
As if to torment him, the monkeys took each other by the hand and ran off. You pathetic old figure, Dieu, he thought sadly. With a pair of arthritic legs like yours, how are you going to run as fast as a monkey driven by loyalty and devotion? The female monkey waved her bow legs, grinned, and made obscene gestures. Mr. Dieu angrily hurled his shotgun down in front of him. He wanted to frighten the female monkey into releasing her mate.
At the moment the shotgun hit the ground, the baby monkey suddenly appeared from a rocky mound. It grabbed the sling of the shotgun and dragged it off along the ground. The three monkeys scurried off on all fours, shrieking. Mr. Dieu was struck dumb for a second, then burst out laughing: his predicament was so ridiculous.
He picked up a handful of dirt and stones and threw it at the monkeys, as he took off howling in pursuit The monkeys, who were terrified by these developments, split up, with the two adults veering off in the direction of the mountains and the baby running toward the cliff. Losing the shotgun will be disastrous, thought Mr. Dieu, and he continued to chase the baby monkey. He charged forward and narrowed the distance between them to the extent that only a jagged rock prevented him from reaching his gun.
By chasing the baby monkey, Mr. Dieu had taken a course of action that had extraordinary consequences. These began when the small monkey just rolled over the edge of the precipice, holding the shotgun sling tightly. Evidently, it was too inexperienced to react in any other way.
Mr. Dieu was pale and soaked with sweat He stood looking down over the cliff with his body shaking. From far below came the echo of a piercing scream, the likes of which he had never heard before. He drew back in fear, as a mist swirled up from the abyss and enveloped the vegetation around him. Very quickly the entire landscape was obscured by eerie vapors. He ran back to the mountain. It was perhaps the first time since childhood that Mr. Dieu had run as though he were being chased by a ghost.
Mr. Dieu was exhausted when he reached the foot of the mountain. He sat down on the ground, looking back in the direction of the precipice, which the mist had now obscured. He remembered suddenly that this was the most feared place in the valley: the place that hunters called Death Hollow. Here, with alarming regularity, somebody perished in the mist each year.
Ghosts? thought Mr. Dieu. Forsaken spirits usually take the form of white monkeys, don't they? It had been a white monkey that seized the gun. Moreover, this had been such an extraordinary action that Mr. Dieu began to wonder if what he had been chasing was really a monkey. Am I dreaming? he wondered, looking around. Is all of this happening? He stood up and looked at the mountain wall on the other side of Death Hollow He was stunned, for now, without a trace of mist, the dome of the sky was clear and vast, and the entire landscape was visible in every detail.
An agitated cry came from somewhere above him. Mr. Dieu looked up and there he saw the wounded monkey lying across a rock ledge. The female monkey was no-where to be seen, and so, very happy in the certainty that he would now catch his monkey, Mr. Dieu searched for a way to climb up on the rock ledge.
Finding a way up the side of the steep, slippery mountain was both difficult and dangerous. Mr. Dieu gauged his strength. Whatever way, I’m going to get that monkey, he murmured to himself, as he calmly used the crevices in the rock face to work his way up.
After about ten minutes, Mr. Dieu felt hot He chose a spot where he could stand, then took off his boots and outer garments and placed them in the fork of a mulberry tree. He climbed onward quickly with no doubts about his ability to reach the ledge.
The slab of rock on which the wounded monkey lay was smooth and seemed somewhat unstable. Beneath it, there was a crevice as wide as Mr. Dieu's hand, which would allow him to pull himself up. He shuddered, frightened by the feeling that the slab might move and roll down the mountain at any moment. Nature was cruel and might want to test his courage further.
Mr. Dieu finally pulled himself up on the rock ledge with his elbows, and there he saw an extremely beautiful monkey with fine golden hair. It lay prone with its hands raking across the surface of the rock, as if it were trying to pull itself along Its shoulder was stained red with blood. Mr. Dieu put his hand on the monkey and felt its feverish body heat Easier than putting a hand on a sparrow, he thought Next, he slipped his hand under the monkey's chest and lifted it to estimate its weight. However, he withdrew his hand quickly when the chest emitted a low, but very disconcerting hum, which made him feel that his intervention had aroused Death's fury. The monkey stirred Mr. Dieu's pity when it trembled and rolled its sluggish eyes toward him. The shotgun pellets had smashed the monkey's shoulder blade and come out through four centimeters of bone. Each time the bones rubbed together, the monkey writhed in pain.
“I can't leave you like that”, said Mr. Dieu. He picked up some Lao grass, crumpled it in his hand, and put it in the monkey's mouth. The monkey chewed the grass care-fully, while Mr. Dieu applied a handful of leaves to its wound to stem the bleeding. The monkey curled its body into a ball and again turned its moist eyes toward Mr. Dieu. The old man looked away
The monkey then buried its head in Mr. Dieu's arms, and a stammering sound came out of its mouth. The monkey was like a helpless child imploring him for help. Mr. Dieu felt very miserable. "It is better for me if you resist,’ he murmured, looking down at the suffering brow of the shriveled monkey. ”I am old, and you know the sympathy of old people is easily aroused. What can I use to bandage you, poor monkey?"
Mr. Dieu considered the situation. He had no choice but to take off his shorts and use them to bandage the monkey's wound. When he did this, the bleeding stopped and the monkey no longer groaned.
Naked now, Mr. Dieu picked the monkey up and kept adjusting its weight in his arms as he found his way back down the mountain. Then, suddenly, as though impelled by some force, the mountainside began to slide away with a tremendous roar from about halfway up.
An avalanche!
Mr. Dieu jumped in terror and clung tightly to a rock. A section of the path he had taken to come up the mountain now flashed down past him, leaving only the surface of the rock shorn smooth. Mr. Dieu could no longer see the mulberry tree where he had left his boots and outer garments. To descend that way was now impossible. He would have to circle around behind the mountain Even though it was farther this way, it was the only safe alternative.
Mr. Dieu groped his way down the mountain for more than two hours before he reached the bottom. He had never had as difficult and as exhausting an ordeal as that His body was covered in scratches. The monkey hovered between life and death, as he dragged it along the ground. For Mr. Dieu, it was agonizing to have to drag the monkey like that, but he no longer had the strength to carry it in his arms.
When Mr. Dieu reached the clump of bushes and vines he had hidden behind that morning, he stopped to pick up his hat and coat and the ball of sticky rice he had left there. But, to his astonishment, he found that a termites' nest as tall as rice stubble had risen in that spot. The nest was a sticky mound of fresh red eaith plastered together with termites' wings. Unfortunately, his things had been mixed up in the nest and turned to mash. Mr. Dieu sighed, turned around in frustration, and lifted the mon-key up in his arms. How humiliating it will be to return home naked, he scowled angrily. I'll become a laughing stock.
He set off, thinking about what he was going to do, and walked around in a circle until he found the track again. How did this happen? He burst out laughing. Who has ever shot a monkey like this? A sparrow-and-a-half of meat on it. Golden hair like dye. You shoot an animal like this even though you've got no clothes? Serves you right, you old fool!
There was a faint sound of something moving behind him. He gave a start, turned around, and recognized the female monkey, who immediately disappeared behind a bush. It turned out that she had followed Mr. Dieu from m, the mountain without his realizing it. How bizarre, he thought. After moving on for some distance, Mr. Dieu turned around again and, to his exasperation, saw that she put the male monkey down was still following him. He on the ground, gathered some stones, and chased the female monkey away. She gave a high-pitched scream and disappeared. When Mr. Dieu looked around a little later, she still tagged along behind him.
- Salt Of The Jungle, Vietnam literature -
The trio continued to plod on through the jungle. The female monkey was incredibly persistent, and made Mr. Dieu feel that it was all so terribly unfair, that he was being pursued by misfortune.
By now, the male monkey had also recognized the call of his mate. He wriggled around. This wriggling made Mr. Dieu feel extremely wretched, and it so exhausted him that he didn't have the strength to carry the monkey any farther. To make matters worse, the monkey's hands clawed at Mr. Dieu's chest and made it bleed. Mr. Dieu could no longer bear the situation, and, in a fury, he threw the monkey down on the ground.
While the monkey lay sprawled out on a piece of wet grass, Mr. Dieu sat down and looked at it. Not far away, female monkey bobbed out from behind the foot of a tree to see what was happening. As Mr. Dieu now looked at both the monkey, he felt a burning sensation on the bridge of his nose. Profoundly sad, he was overcome by the realization that, in life, responsibility weighs heavily on every living thing.
All right, I'll set you free, declared Mr. Dieu. He sat peacefully for a moment, then stood up without warning, and spat a wad of saliva on the ground near his feet. After hesitating for some time, he finally hurried off. The female monkey shot straight out of her hiding place as though she had been waiting for exactly this moment, and ran quickly to her mate.
Mr. Dieu turned onto another track because he wanted to avoid people. This track was choked with bramble bushes that made the going difficult, but they were covered by masses of tu huyen flowers. Mr. Dieu stopped in amazement Tu huyen flowers bloom only once in thirty years, and people that come across them are said to meet with good luck. The flowers are white. They are as small as the head of a toothpick and have a salty taste. People call them "salt of the jungle." When the jungle is braided together with these flowers, it is a sign that the country is blessed with peace and abundant harvests.
When he came out of the valley, Mr. Dieu went down into the fields. The spring rain was gentle but very good for the rice seeds. Naked and lonely, he went on his way. A little later, his shadow faded into the curtain of rain.
In only a few days it would be the beginning of summer. The weather would gradually get warmer. . . .
By now, the male monkey had also recognized the call of his mate. He wriggled around. This wriggling made Mr. Dieu feel extremely wretched, and it so exhausted him that he didn't have the strength to carry the monkey any farther. To make matters worse, the monkey's hands clawed at Mr. Dieu's chest and made it bleed. Mr. Dieu could no longer bear the situation, and, in a fury, he threw the monkey down on the ground.
While the monkey lay sprawled out on a piece of wet grass, Mr. Dieu sat down and looked at it. Not far away, female monkey bobbed out from behind the foot of a tree to see what was happening. As Mr. Dieu now looked at both the monkey, he felt a burning sensation on the bridge of his nose. Profoundly sad, he was overcome by the realization that, in life, responsibility weighs heavily on every living thing.
All right, I'll set you free, declared Mr. Dieu. He sat peacefully for a moment, then stood up without warning, and spat a wad of saliva on the ground near his feet. After hesitating for some time, he finally hurried off. The female monkey shot straight out of her hiding place as though she had been waiting for exactly this moment, and ran quickly to her mate.
Mr. Dieu turned onto another track because he wanted to avoid people. This track was choked with bramble bushes that made the going difficult, but they were covered by masses of tu huyen flowers. Mr. Dieu stopped in amazement Tu huyen flowers bloom only once in thirty years, and people that come across them are said to meet with good luck. The flowers are white. They are as small as the head of a toothpick and have a salty taste. People call them "salt of the jungle." When the jungle is braided together with these flowers, it is a sign that the country is blessed with peace and abundant harvests.
When he came out of the valley, Mr. Dieu went down into the fields. The spring rain was gentle but very good for the rice seeds. Naked and lonely, he went on his way. A little later, his shadow faded into the curtain of rain.
In only a few days it would be the beginning of summer. The weather would gradually get warmer. . . .
- Salt Of The Jungle, Vietnam literature -
1 comments:
Is this the full text of SoTJ?
Post a Comment