At the upper end of the inlet,its low,cliffy lining sinks,at both sides,into a beach.A copra warehouse stands in the shadow of the shoreside trees,flitted about for ever by a clan of dwarfish swallows;and a line of rails on a high wooden staging bends back into the mouth of the valley.Walking on this,the new-landed traveller becomes aware of a broad fresh-water lagoon (one arm of which he crosses),and beyond,of a grove of noble palms,sheltering the house of the trader,Mr.Keane.Overhead,the cocos join in a continuous and lofty roof;blackbirds are heard lustily singing;the island cock springs his jubilant rattle and airs his golden plumage;cow-bells sound far and near in the grove;and when you sit in the broad verandah,lulled by this symphony,you may say to yourself,if you are able:'Better fifty years of Europe .'
第36章 THE STORY OF A PLANTATION(1)（2 / 3）