BORED TO DEATH

Taranaki Daily News, 20 June 1931, Page 13 (Supplement)

BORED TO DEATH

AND NO EXAGGERATION

(By

“Senex.”)

“Oh! I was bored to death with him,” he concluded. There was an awkward silence amongst the half-dozen men seated round the big fireplace—such a silence as greets the relation of a poor story. A weak smile flitted unnaturally over the lips of one or two, scarcely melted the cold reserve of their eyes, and was gone. “Bored to death. I wouldn’t say that.’’ Sallow-skinned, weather-beaten and wrinkled, one of the company barely whispered the words. “An exaggerated phrase, isn’t it? We never stop to think how wildly fantastic some of our figures of speech arc.’’ He paused and stirred in his deep armchair. “And yet how true they can become.” No one spoke to prompt him. . He would tell his story in his own time, “There was a lot in the papers a little while ago about a man who spent the winter on the Greenland ice cap. He was only the second one to do it. You may have heard nothing about it on this side of the world, but I spent half the winter and a good part of the summer alone in the Antarctic, cut off completely from the rest of civilisation. There was nothing heroic about it, though. Don’t think I did any volunteering to spend a solitary winter because food supplies were short or anything like that. I had two companions, but they died. They were colonials, and wouldn’t be known to any of you, so I don’t suppose there’s any harm in telling you this. “Scott was a Canadian. He had broken, loose from his native soil and gone adventuring in many places. He was fairly well educated. Hamilton, the other of the pair, was an Australian, who had never been out of Australia until the ship which carried him to Wilkes Land left Melbourne. He was the best type of Australian, apparently —public school and university education and all that, fine sports record, a well-built decent lad altogether, we thought, though he had never been tried out.

“When a couple of fellows were wanted to remain through the winter in a. camp we’d established in preparation for next summer’s activities these two seemed to be the ideal pair. Everyone volunteered, for there was a certain amount of risk attached to the job and no one would be seen hanging back in such a case. Hamilton and Scott were easy winners. I, of course, had to he one of the three by virtue of my position as second in command of the whole affair. “We looked forward to a pleasant time —as pleasant as circumstances would let it be with the temperature making the mercury almost do the trick completely. Things did pass very pleasantly. We had our daily jobs, simple housekeeping, to do and meteorological and other records to keep. There was a good supply of literature and plenty of cards. Scott and I were chess players and Hamilton buried himself in a book when the three of us weren’t talking. It was before the days of wireless broadcasting, or we might have listened in io 3LO . , . and there might have been three of us at the end. of the winter, too. . . “Scott could tell a tale or two of personal experiences in several quarters of the globe. They were very personal —almost 100 personal in fact. He was a great admirer and connoisseur - of the opposite sex, from Rio to the China coast. Hamilton, though he had never been out of Australia, had seen a lot of it. He was fearfully enthusiastic about sport and about his own country. .A pity his knowledge wasn’t a little wider. Ho was a little biassed, we found. “So we went on into the very depth of the winter twilight, which was the only sign we had. that there was still a sun shining somewhere. Storms kept us inside more than before. It’s the hardest part of the year, waiting for the summer sun that never seems to come. That’s when a fellow’s nerves begin to get rough at the edges.” The speaker paused, but none stirred. An ominous note in the voice which had spoken the last few words held them. “Scott’s fund of subjects was not as extensive as I had thought. Neither was Hamilton’s. I never was a great talker. .They were;, and it was unfortunate because they didn’t seem to have a great deal to talk about. They had their pet theories of life, of religion, of a sort of metaphysics. I confess they began to bore me and bore each other. Scott for a good while was too wise a bird to show it, and I —well, I had had far more experience of situations like that and couldn’t help knowing I must take things easy and not have to get too tight a grip on myself. “But you know how it is, or perhaps you don’t, when three men are forced to keep company and hear the others’ words —the same words, the same inflections —day after day. The coating of each story may be different, but the pill has the, same taste. The same moral will be pointed by every example, every story will lead to the expounding of the same theories. Oh! You have to experience it to' know the unutterable boredom that can result. “Believe me I had seen it coming and had done my utmost. But it all happened so quickly. The frayed fibres snapped at last. We had been hemmed in for a week by blizzards and had had too much of one another. Scott was beginning to speak when Hamilton broke in with: ‘For heavens’ sake tell me something new or shut up.’ ‘‘“You will have your little joke, won’t you?’ If Scott had wanted to soothe Hamilton he should have kept the sneer out of his voice. “ ‘Yes. I’ve heard it all before. You’ll say that in all the years you’ve sailed the seas, and that’s fifteen, and. among all the beauties you’ve seen, and they’re so many they’ve become monotonous to you, there never was one—and so on. Then you’ll tell us of yojir various states of mind, your arguments within yourself —aren’t I right? Oh! I know every word, and phrase you’ll use. I’m tired of it.’ Hamilton’s voice failed him. “In icy tones before I could stop him Scott had answered: ‘You fool, do you think I’m not just as bored stiff with you and your childish sports. You 11 grow up one of these days.’ His rage was getting away with him. ‘You ■weren’t worth a place in this show— ’ “ ‘lt’s, a lie.’ Hamilton screamed the words and his fist flew out. Seott went down with a sickening crunch of bone. His head was smashed in on the sharp steel of a sleigh runner. I seized Hamilton, but not before he’d realised what he’d done and caught up a revolver hanging on the wall and shot himself.

“The rest of the winter I spent alone until relieved. Do you wonder now that I hesitate ever to use such an expression as ’bored to death.’