I must have heard this story from someone else.He shouldn't have told me, or anyone else.It is due to the wonderful effect that a bottle of old wine had on the storyteller, which led him to begin; and also to the fact that I was skeptical of the second half of the story in the days that followed. When the gregarious host found out that he had told me so much and I was still skeptical about his story, his foolish pride took over the "task" that started with old wine, and with the help of wine, , produced a bunch of written materials.They were musty manuscripts and dull records of British colonization.These materials provide strong support for many crucial parts of his rather excellent account.

I dare not say that this story is true, because I did not witness the things it depicts.But in the course of the narrative I have given you, the principal characters have used pseudonyms, which is enough to show, and I myself sincerely believe, that this is a true story. A yellowed, musty-smelling diary left by a long-dead man, and a few pages from the Colonial Office's transcript, fit perfectly with the account of the party-loving host.The stories I tell you are painstakingly sorted out through these different channels. If you don't find it believable, at least you'll admit, as I did, that it's an unrivaled, singular, and amusing story.

From the records of the Colonial Office and from the diary of the late gentleman, we learn that a young English nobleman--we shall call him John Clayton, or Lord Greystoke--was sent to England The West Coast Colony of the Commonwealth of Africa made a special and somewhat tricky survey of the situation there.Because at that time another European power was recruiting soldiers for its local army among the local indigenous population, and this army was only used to extort money from the primitive tribes living along the Congo and Aluvimi rivers for rubber and ivory. The aborigines of the Commonwealth complained that after many of their young lads had been tricked away by flattery, few ever returned home.

The British living in Africa put it even more mysteriously.Those poor blacks, they said, were practically enslaved.Because after the military service expired, the white officers took advantage of their ignorance and lied to them that they would serve for a few more years. As a result, the colonists arranged a new position for John Clayton in the West African colonies of the Commonwealth of Nations.But his secret mission was to conduct a full investigation into the unfair treatment of the black inhabitants of the Commonwealth by officers of that friendly European power.Exactly why he was sent to West Africa, however, has little to do with the story, for he has never been able to investigate at all, and in fact he has never even been able to reach his destination.

Clayton is a quintessential Englishman, most fond of associating himself with historic and immortal feats established on victorious battlefields.He was a strong, manly man mentally, morally, and physically. He is taller than the average person is tall.A pair of gray eyes, regular features, dignified appearance.His demeanor was well-toned from years of military service. Political ambitions led him to seek a transfer from the army to the Colonial Office. Thus, we see that, while still very young, he has been entrusted with great responsibilities during his service to Her Majesty. He was both smug and horrified at the appointment.This promotion was clearly a reward and reward for his hard and intelligent service, and a step towards a more prestigious promotion.But on the other hand, he had only been married to the noble Alice Rutherford for three months, and when he thought of taking this young and beautiful girl to the scorching heat of Africa, into danger and loneliness, he He hesitated.

For her sake he would have declined the appointment, but she would not.She insisted on accepting the seat, and insisted that he take her with him. Regarding this matter, the mothers, siblings, aunts, and cousins ​​of the two families all expressed various opinions, but there is no evidence to check what high opinions each has. We only know that on a sunny morning in May 1888, John, Lord Greystoke and his wife Alice set off from Dover Port and embarked on a journey to Africa. A month later they were in Freetown.From there they changed to a small sailing ship called the Furvada.The ship will take them all the way to their destination.

①Freetour: the capital of Sierra Leone. John, Lord Greystoke, and his wife Alice were never seen or heard from after that. Two months after they sailed from Freetown, six warships were dispatched to the South Atlantic in search of them and their schooner.The wreck of the ship was soon discovered off the coast of St. Helena, thus convincing the world that the 'Fovarda' and all the passengers on board were dead. The search for the pools, barely begun, was aborted . "Fulvada" carried a three-masted ship with a deadweight of about one hundred tons.This type of sailing vessel is often seen among merchant ships trading along the coast of the South Atlantic.Their crews consisted of the dregs of society who had fled to sea—murderers and murderers of every race and nation who had not been hanged.

"Fovarda" is no exception.Its first, second, and third mates were dark thugs.They hate the crew and the crew hates them.As for the captain, although he is a very capable sailor, he is even more fierce to his men.He only knew, or only used two things against them: a belay bolt and a revolver, or that's the only thing the rascals he took in knew. Therefore, on the second day after leaving Freetown, John Clayton and his young wife witnessed the live drama on the deck of "Fowalda". The plots in it, except for the storybooks describing the sea, they never believe that they will exist in life.

The very next morning the first link of the chain destined to run through the life of the man who was not yet born was forged.And his peculiar life, so far in human history, no one else can match it. Two sailors were scrubbing the deck of the Fowalda, and the mate was on watch, and the captain came and chatted casually with John Clayton and Lady Alice. The two sailors were stepping backwards to scrub the deck, and the speakers turned their backs to them.The sailors were getting closer and closer to them, and one of them had retreated behind the captain, and was about to pass him in the blink of an eye.If so, there would never have been this magical story.

But at this moment, the captain turned around, trying to get away from Lord and Lady Greystoke, but he happened to trip over the sailor, and fell heavily on the deck. The bucket was soaked in the dirty water inside. At that moment, he looked a little funny.But it was only for a moment. The captain, flushed with embarrassment, and cursing viciously, got up, and knocked the sailor down on the deck with a violent blow. The man was not only small and small, but he was already quite old, which made the violence all the more ugly.The other sailor was neither small nor old.He has a thick back and a waist, a big man with a black beard and a black beard. He looks very fierce. A thick neck like a bull sways between his muscular shoulders.

Seeing that his companion was knocked down, he squatted down, roared in a low voice, and threw himself at the captain, punching him to the ground. The captain's face turned from red to white, which was a rebellion against him.This kind of rebellion had been encountered and suppressed in his murderous career.Before he stood up, he drew a pistol from his pocket and fired at the "mountain" of flesh and blood standing in front of him.For all his quickness, however, John Clayton was quicker.Seeing the pistol flash in the sun, he struck down the captain's arm, and the bullet, which was about to enter the sailor's heart, struck the sailor's calf. Clayton and the captain argued with each other one by one.The lord made it clear that he abhorred all forms of violence inflicted upon the crew, and would not wish to see such things happen so long as he and Lord Greystoke remained on board the ship as passengers. The captain was about to say something unreasonable, but after a second thought, forget it, turned around, and strode towards the stern with an angry face. He didn't want to upset a British official.For the queen's mighty arm wields a ruler he admires and fears, the mighty navy of England. Two crew members got up from the deck, and the older one helped his injured friend to his feet.The big guy was known among his buddies as Blake Michael.He tried the injured leg cautiously, and when he felt that he could still support the weight of his body, he turned and said a few rude words of thanks to Clayton. Despite the rough tone of the guy's voice, the words were obviously meant in good faith. No sooner had he finished speaking, however, than he turned and limped off to the foredeck, with a clear intention--not to speak to his lord. They did not see the Captain again for several years, and when he was compelled to speak to them, he merely muttered grimly. They still dined in the captain's cabin, as before this unfortunate incident.The captain was cautious; he was in awe of them and never dared to dine with them. The first, second, and third mates are even more vulgar and uneducated guys, not much better than the bad guys who are oppressed by them.They avoided this beautifully dressed English nobleman and his wife.So the Claytons were almost always alone. In fact, for them, this is exactly what they want, but in this way, they are in a state of isolation from the life on this small boat.They have no access to the everyday happenings here, which quickly culminate in a bloody tragedy.