thedestroyer.slavesafari-第13部分

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　〃Sergeant；　did　you　see　our　passengers？〃
　〃Sir？〃　called　out　the　sergeant
　〃The　white　man　and　the　Oriental。　Did　you　see　them　jump　from　the　jeep？〃
　The　sergeant　threw　the　snappy　kind　of　British　salute　Butler　hated　so　much。　He　used　the　word　〃sir〃　to　punctuate　his　reply。
　〃Sir；　no　sir。　No　passengers　observed　leaving　your　vehicle；　sir。〃
　〃Form　search　parties　and　scour　the　road。　Fan　out　Find　them。　They　do　not　know　this　earth。〃
　〃Sir；　very　good；　sir；〃　said　the　sergeant。
　But　Remo　and　Chiun　were　not　found；　although　it　came　to　be　believed　that　at　least　five　men　might　have　stumbled　on　them　or　on　something；　because　the　necks　of　the　five　were　broken　and　they　lay　peacefully　in　search　formation；　the　safeties　off　their　rifles　and　their　fingers　on　the　feather…light　triggers；　as　though　a　breeze　of　death　had　gently　put　them　to　sleep。
　Three　other　men　were　missing；　one　of　them　a　captain；　but　General　Butler　would　not　wait。　He　would　not　have　waited　if　the　gates　of　hell　opened　before　him。　He　was　going　to　catch　a　plane　for　America　to　settle　the　last　payment　on　a　three…hundred…year…old　debt；　and　when　that　had　been　collected；　the　world　might　see　greatness　as　it　had　not　for　thousands　of　years。
　At　the　airport；　Butler　told　his　personal　Army　detachment　to　continue　the　search　for　the　Oriental　and　the　American　and　to　hold　them　in　custody　until　he　got　back。　〃I　shall　be　back　in　two　days；〃　he　said；　and　with　that　walked　quickly　to　the　loading　ramp　of　the　Air　Busati　707；　with　British　pilots　and　navigators。
　Three　years　before；　in　an　advertisement　for　Air　Busati；　two　Hausas　posed　in　pilots'　uniforms　for　photographs　and　the　planes　emptied　of　passengers　hi　less　than　a　minute；　most　of　the　passengers　being　Hausas　too。
　This　Butler　remembered　as　he　entered　the　plane　on　which　he　would　be　the　only　passenger　and　headed　for　the　lounge　in　the　back　to　change　from　his　military　uniform。　Butler　remembered　the　advertisement　well。　It　did　not　appear　in　any　African　newspaper　for　fear　of　losing　Air　Busati　the　few　passengers　it　had；　but　it　made　quite　a　hit　in　The　New　York　Times　where　one　militant　several　days　later　had　called　on　the　Busati　Air　Force　to　launch　an　immediate　strike　against　South　Africa。
　The　militant　had　held　up　the　advertisement　as　he　said：　〃Why　don't　these　black　pilots　spearhead　an　attack　on　racist　South　Africa？　I　will　tell　you　why。　Because　capitalism　forces　them　to　fly　mercial　airliners。〃
　Butler　had　almost　cried　when　he　saw　the　news　story　about　the　militant；　and　when　he　thought　that　black　men　did　indeed　fly　fighter　aircraft…in　America。
　As　the　707　jet　rose　sharply　into　the　darkening　Busati　sky　for　the　first　leg　of　its　journey　to　Kennedy　Airport　in　New　York　City　Willian　Forsythe　Butter　leaned　back　in　a　reclining　seat；　aware　that　he　was　making　his　last　trip　west　to　a　land　to　which　centuries　before　his　ancestors　had　been　transported；　shackled　in　the　holds　of　ships　built　for　carrying　cattle。
　Those　trips　had　taken　months。　Many　had　died　and　many　had　thrown　themselves　overboard　when　they　had　a　chance。　They　had　e　from　many　tribes…Lord；　Hausa；　Ashanti；　Dahomey…and　they　would　surrender　this　heritage　to　bee　a　new　people　called　〃nigger。〃　Few　would　ever　find　their　way　home。
　William　Forsythe　Butler　had　found　his　way　home。　In　the　depths　of　his　bitterness；　he　had　found　his　home　and　his　tribe　and　his　people；　and　a　curious　legend　that　told　him　what　he　must　do。　Althoughs　in　truth；　he　had　always　been　the　kind　of　boy…then　man…who　seemed　to　know　what　he　would　do　and　how　he　would　do　it。
　When　he　was　eleven　years　old　hi　Paterson；　New　Jersey；　he　suddenly　realized　he　was　very　fast　afoot；　as　fast　as　the　wind。　He　was　reading　when　this　realization　overcame　him。　He　told　his　sister；
　〃Get　outa　here；　Billie；　you're　a　fat　chubkins；〃　she　had　said。
　〃I　know；　sis；　I　know。　But　I'm　fast。　I　mean；　I　got　the　speed　in　me。〃
　〃I　can　outrun　you；　fatty；〃　said　his　sister。
　〃Today；　yeah。　But　not　next　month。　And　the　month　after　that　you　won't　even　see　me。〃
　〃Ain't　nobody　gonna　move　that　flab　fast；　fatty；〃　said　his　older　sister。
　But　Billie　Butler　knew。　All　he　would　have　to　do　would　be　to　find　that　speed　hi　himself。　And　he　did。　In　football；　he　became　high　school　All…American；　and　did　the　same　at　Morgan　State。
　His　performance　there　was　good　enough　to　get　him　an　offer　from　the　Philadelphia　Browns　which；　at　the　time；　had　an　interesting　way　of　judging　football　talent　They　could　have　done　it　with　a　light　meter。　If　you　were　black　and　fast　and　didn't　e　from　a　Big　Ten　school；　you　were　a　cornerback。　And　if　your　name　was　William　Forsythe　Butler；　you　became　Willie　Butler。　Not　Bill；　not　Billie；　but　Willie。
　〃I　don't　want　to　play　defense；〃　Butler　had　told　them。　〃I　want　to　play　offense。　I　know　I　can　play　offense。〃　But　the　Browns　already　had　one　black　halfback。　Butler　became　a　cornerback。
　He　swallowed　his　pride　and　tried　to　look　straight　ahead。　He　read　about　the　black　reawakening；　which　seemed　to　center　around　kids　calling　press　conferences　to　announce　imminent　rebellions；　which　featured　every　sort　of　cuckoo　in　the　black　munity　being　exalted　by　the　white　press　as　a　black　leader；　and　featured　very　few　of　his　own　people；　the　people　who　had　sweat　blood　and　tears　and　pain　to　wrest　even　the　ownership　of　a　home　from　a　hostile　land。
　Just　as　he　had　known　as　a　child　that　he　had　speed　within　him；　he　knew　now　what　would　happen　in　this　still…hostile　land　of　America。
　He　tried　to　explain　to　one　militant　he　met　on　a　plane。
　〃Look；　if　you're　going　to　have　a　damned　revolution；　it　might　help　not　to　announce　your　plans　in　The　New。　York　Times；〃　he　had　said。
　〃Revolution　is　munication　with　the　masses；〃　the　militant　had　said。　〃They　must　first　be　conscious　that　power　es　from；　the　barrel　of　a　gun。〃
　〃Did　it　ever　occur　to　you　that　the　whites　have　most　of　the　guns？〃
　〃Whitey　soft。　He　through。　He　dead；　man。〃
　〃God　help　you　if　you　ever　back　him　into　a　corner；〃　Butler　told　the　youth；　who　responded　that　Butler　was　an　Uncle　Tom　of　a　dead　generation。　Butler　saw　the　name　of　the　militant　again　one　month　later　when　the　newspapers　reported　the　youth　had　been　arrested　for　holding　up　a　drugstore。
　Some　of　Butler's　friends　said　this　was　a　sign　that　the　youth　was　really　arrested　for　his　political　beliefs。
　〃Bullshit；〃　said　Butler。　〃If　you　know　anything　about　how　anything　operates；　that　kid　is　just　what　you　want　for　an　enemy。　He　wasn't　doing　any　harm　to　the　government。　He　was　really　helping　it。〃
　〃He　was　raising　the　consciousness　…of　his　people；〃　said　Butler's　sister。
　〃Every　time　that　kid　opened　his　mouth；　ten　thousand　whites　moved　to　the　right。〃
　〃That's　a　twisted　way　of　thinking；〃　said　his　sister。　I　don't　know　about　you；　but　I'm　tired　of　tomming。〃
　〃And　I'm　tired　of　losing。　We're　cutting　off　all　our　support　in　the　north；　and　in　the　south；　forget　it。〃
　〃We　got　the　Third　World。　We　outnumber　Whitey。〃
　〃Numbers　don't　count　any　more；〃　Butler　had　said。　〃An　army　is　made　up　of　people　who　can　work　together　and；　most　important；　be　in　the　right　place　at　the　right　time。　If　I　were　running　a　black　revolution　hi　this　country；　I'd　give　the　kids　watches；　not　rifles。〃
　〃They　really　got　to　your　head；　didn't　they；　Mister　not…allowed…to…carry…the…ball　cornerback。　And　don't　give　me　Whitey's　talk　about　being　wiped　out。　We　been　wiped　out　every　century。　And　here　we　are。〃
　〃No；〃　said　Butler　sadly；　〃I　don't　think　we're　going　to　be　wiped　out；　because　I　don't　think　we　can　get　up　a　good　enough　revolution　right　now　to　get　wiped　out。　We're　gonna　be　smothered　in　our　own　stupidity。〃
　His　sister's　response　was　that　Butler　was　too　impressed　with　Whitey。　Butler's　answer　was　that　Whitey　wasn't　all　that　good　and　pretty　stupid　himself；　but　that　his　sister　made　even　the　worst　white　cracker　look…tike　an　intellectual　giant。
　Butler's　despair　deepened　with　almost　every　daily　newspaper　story　about　non…negotiable　demands；　the　unity　of　the　Third　World　and　the　talk　of　bullets。　When　departments　of　African　studies　were　introduced　across　the　land；　William　Forsythe　Butler　was　at　the　point　of　tears。　〃The　engineering　schools；　you　dumb　bastards；〃　he　would　yell　in　the　privacy　of　his　apartment。　〃The　engineering　schools。　That's　survival。〃
　Few　of　his　friends　spoke　to　him　anymore；　naturally；　since　he　was　an　Uncle　Tom　without　courage。