The Beautiful Thing That Awaits Us All Read Online Free PDF Page A

McEvoy said.
        "Hear, hear," Mr. Briggs said. "Give up the ivory trade for a not-solikely chance to bag some old stag in dull as dirt U.S.A.?"
        "Ten thousand sterling silver buys a lot of wine and song, amigos," Mr. Williams said. "Besides, who says the kid's quit anything?"
        "Well, sir, I am shut of the business."
        "Why is that?" Mr. Briggs said.
        Luke Honey wiped his mouth. "One fine day I was standing on a plain with the hottest sun you can imagine beating down. Me and some other men had set up a crossfire and plugged maybe thirty elephants from this enormous herd. The skinners got to work with their machetes and axes. Meanwhile, I got roaring drunk with the rest of the men. A newspaper flew in a photographer on a biplane. The photographer posed us next to a pile of tusks. The tusks were stacked like cordwood and there was blood and flies everywhere. I threw up during one of the pictures. The heat and the whiskey, I thought. They put me in a tent for a couple of days while a fever fastened to me. I ranted and raved and they had to lash me down. You see, I thought the devil was hiding under my cot, that he was waiting to claim my soul. I dreamt my dear dead mother came and stood at the entrance of the tent. She had soft, magnificent wings folded against her back. White light surrounded her. The light was brilliant. Her face was dark and her eyes were fiery. She spat on the ground and the tent flaps flew shut and I was left alone in darkness. The company got me to a village where there was a real doctor who gave me quinine and I didn't quite die."
        "Are you saying you quit the safaris because your mother might disapprove from her cloud in heaven?" Mr. Briggs said.
        "Nope. I'm more worried she might be disapproving from an ice floe in Hell."
        
    ***
        
        In the afternoon, Lord Bullard shot a medium buck that was cornered by Scobie's mastiff pack. Luke Honey and Mr. Williams reined in at a remove from the action. The killing went swiftly. The buck had been severely mauled prior to their arrival. Mr. Wesley dismounted and cut the animal's throat with his overlarge knife while the dogs sniffed around and pissed on the bushes.
        "Not quite as glorious as ye olden days, eh?" Mr. Williams said. He took a manly gulp of whiskey from his flask and passed it to Luke Honey.
        Luke Honey drank, relishing the dark fire coursing over his bloody teeth. "German nobles still use spears to hunt boars."
        "I wager more than one of those ol' boys gets his manhood torn off on occasion."
        "It happens." Luke Honey slapped his right thigh. "When I was younger and stupider I was gored. Hit the bone. Luckily the boar was heart shot-stone dead when it stuck me so I didn't get ripped in two."
        "Damn," Mr. Williams said.
        Mr. Briggs and Mr. McEvoy stared at Luke Honey with something akin to religious awe. "Spears?" Mr. Briggs said. "Did you bring one?"
        "Nope. A couple of rifles, my .45, and some knives. I travel light."
        "I'm shocked the limeys put up with the lack of foot servants," Mr. Briggs said.
        "I doubt any of us are capable of understanding you, Mr. Honey," Mr. Williams said. "I'm beginning to think you may be one of those rare mysteries of the world."
        
    ***
        
        An hour before dusk, Scobie and a grimy boy in suspenders and no shirt approached the hunters while they paused to smoke cigarettes, drink brandy, and water the horses.
        Scobie said, "Arlen here came across sign of a large stag yonder a bit. Fair knocked the bark from trees with its antlers, right boy?" The boy nodded and scowled as Scobie tousled his hair. "The boy has a keen eye. How long were the tracks?" The boy gestured and Lord Bullard whistled in astonishment.
        Mr. Williams snorted and fanned a circle with his hat to disperse a cloud of mosquitoes. "We're talking about a deer, not a damned