WERWOLF METAMORPHOSIS COMPARED WITH OTHER BRANCHES OF LYCANTHROPY
The wolf is not the only animal whose shape, it is stated, man may
possess the power of assuming; and it may be of some interest to inquire
briefly into the varying branches of lycanthropy, comparing them with
the one already under discussion.
In Orissa, the power of metamorphosing into a tiger is asserted by the
Kandhs to be hereditary, and also to be acquired through the practice of
magic; many who have travelled in this country have assured me that
there is a very great amount of truth in this assertion; and that
although there are, without doubt, a number of impostors among those
designated wer-tigers, there are most certainly many who are genuine.
As with the werwolf, so with the wer-tiger, the metamorphosis is usually
dependent on the hour of the day, and generally occurs cotemporaneous
with the setting of the sun.
But the lycanthropy of the wer-tiger differs from that of the werwolf
inasmuch as there is a definite god or spirit, in the shape of a tiger,
that is directly responsible for the bestowal of the property. This
tiger deity is looked upon and worshipped as a totem or national
deity--that is to say, as a divine being that has the welfare of the
Kandh nation especially at heart. It is communed with at home, but more
particularly in the wild dreariness of the jungle, where, on the
condition that the prayers of its devotees are sufficiently concentrated
and in earnest, it confers--as an honour and privilege--the power of
transmutation into its own shape. Some idea of its appearance may
perhaps be gathered from the following description of it given me by a
Mr. K----, whose name I see in the list of passengers reported "missing"
in the deplorable disaster to the "Titanic."
"Anxious to see," Mr. K---- stated, "if there was anything of truth in
the alleged materialization of the tiger totem to those supplicating it,
I went one evening to a spot in the jungle--some two or three miles from
the village--where I had been informed the manifestations took place. As
the jungle was universally held to be haunted I met no one; and in spite
of my dread of the snakes, big cats, wild boars, scorpions, and other
poisonous vermin with which the place was swarming, arrived without
mishap at the place that had been so carefully described to me--a
circular clearing of about twenty feet in diameter, surrounded on all
sides by rank grass of a prodigious height, trolsee shrubs, kulpa and
tamarind-trees. Quickly concealing myself, I waited the coming of the
would-be tiger-man.
"He was hardly more than a boy--slim and almost feminine--and came
gallivanting along the narrow path through the brushwood, like some
careless, high-spirited, brown-skinned hoyden.
"The moment he reached the edge of the mystic circle, however, his
behaviour changed; the light of laughter died from his eyes, his lips
straightened, his limbs stiffened, and his whole demeanour became one of
respect and humility.
"Advancing with bare head and feet some three or so feet into the
clearing, he knelt down, and, touching the ground three times in
succession with his forehead, looked up at a giant kulpa-tree opposite
him, chanting as he did so some weird and monotonous refrain, the
meaning of which was unintelligible to me. Up to then it had been
light--the sky, like all Indian skies at that season, one blaze of
moonbeams and stars; but now it gradually grew dark. An unnatural,
awe-inspiring shade seemed to swoop down from the far distant mountains
and to hush into breathless silence everything it touched. Not a bird
sang, not an insect ticked, not a leaf stirred. One might have said all
nature slept, had it not been for an uncomfortable sensation that the
silence was but the silence of intense expectation--merely the prelude
to some unpleasant revelation that was to follow. At this juncture my
feelings were certainly novel--entirely different from any I had
hitherto experienced.
"I had not believed in the supernatural, and had had absolutely no
apprehensions of coming across anything of a ghostly character--all my
fears had been of malicious natives and tigers; they now, however,
changed, and I was confronted with a dread of what I could not
understand and could not analyse--of something that suggested an
appearance, alarming on account of its very vagueness.
"The pulsations of my heart became irregular, I grew faint and sick, and
painfully susceptible to a sensation of excessive coldness, which
instinct told me was quite independent of any actual change in the
atmosphere.
"I made several attempts to remove my gaze from the kulpa-tree, which
intuition told me would be the spot where the something, whatever it
was, that was going to happen would manifest itself. My eyes, however,
refused to obey, and I was obliged to keep them steadily fixed on this
spot, which grew more and more gloomy. All of a sudden the silence was
broken, and a cry, half human and half animal, but horribly ominous,
sounding at first faint and distant, speedily grew louder and louder.
Soon I heard footsteps, the footsteps of something running towards us
and covering the ground with huge, light strides. Nearer and nearer it
came, till, with a sudden spring, it burst into view--the giant reeds
and trolsees were dashed aside, and I saw standing in front of the
kulpa-tree a vertical column of crimson light of perhaps seven feet in
height and one or so in width. A column--only a column, though the
suggestion conveyed to me by the column was nasty--nasty with a
nastiness that baffles description. I looked at the native, and the
expression in his eyes and mouth assured me he saw more--a very great
deal more. For some seconds he only gasped; then, by degrees, the
rolling of his eyes and twitching of his lips ceased. He stretched out a
hand and made some sign on the ground. Then he produced a string of
beads, and after placing it over the scratchings he had made on the
soil, jerked out some strange incantation in a voice that thickened and
quivered with terror. I then saw a stream of red light steal from the
base of the column and dart like forked lightning to the beads, which
instantly shone a luminous red. The native now picked them up, and,
putting them round his neck, clapped the palms of his hands vigorously
together, uttering as he did so a succession of shrill cries, that
gradually became more and more animal in tone, and finally ended in a
roar that converted every particle of blood in my veins into ice. The
crimson colour now abruptly vanished--whither it went I know not--the
shade that had been veiling the jungle was dissipated, and in the burst
of brilliant moonlight that succeeded I saw, peering up at me, from the
spot where the native had lain, the yellow, glittering, malevolent eyes,
not of a man, but a tiger--a tiger thirsting for human blood. The shock
was so great that for a second or two I was paralysed, and could only
stare back at the thing in fascinated helplessness. Then a big bird
close at hand screeched, and some small quadruped flew past me
terrified; and with these awakenings of nature all my faculties revived,
and I simply jumped on my feet and--fled!
"Some fifty yards ahead of me, and showing their tops well above the
moon-kissed reeds and bushes, were two trees--a tamarind and a kulpa
briksha. God knows why I decided on the latter! Probably through a mere
fluke, for I hadn't the remotest idea which of the trees offered the
best facilities to a poor climber. My mind once made up, there was no
time to alter. The wer-tiger was already terribly close behind. I could
gauge its distance by the patter of its feet--apparently the
metamorphosis had only been in part--and by the steadily intensifying
purr, purr; so unmistakably interpretative of the brute's utter
satisfaction in its power to overtake me, as well as at the prospect of
so good a meal. I was just thirteen stone, seemingly a most unlucky
number even in weight! Had the tiger wanted, I am sure he could have
caught me at once, but I fancy it wished to play with me a little
first--to let me think I was going to escape, and then, when it had got
all the amusement possible out of me, just to give a little sprint and
haul me over. Perhaps it was my anger at such undignified treatment of
the human race that gave a kind of sting to my running, for I certainly
got over the ground at twice the speed I had ever done before, or ever
thought myself capable of doing. At times my limbs were on the verge of
mutiny, but I forced them onward, and though my lungs seemed bursting, I
never paused. At last a clearing was reached and the kulpa-tree stood
fully revealed. I glanced at once at the trunk. The lowest branch of any
size was some eight feet from the ground. . . . Could I reach it?
Summoning up all my efforts for this final, and in all probability
fatal, rush, I hurled myself forward. There was a low exultant roar, a
soft, almost feminine purr, and a long hairy paw, with black, gleaming
claws shot past my cheek. I gave a great gasp of anguish, and with all
the pent-up force of despair clutched at the branch overhead. My
finger-tips just curled over it; I tightened them, but, at the most, it
was a very feeble, puny grasp, and totally insufficient to enable me to
swing my body out of reach of the tiger. I immediately gave myself up as
lost, and was endeavouring to reconcile myself to the idea of being
slowly chewed alive, when an extraordinary thing happened. The wer-tiger
gave a low growl of terror and, bounding away, was speedily lost in the
jungle. Fearing it might return, I waited for some time in the tree, and
then, as there were no signs of it, descended, and very cautiously made
my way back to the village.
"That night an entire family, father, mother, son, and daughter, were
murdered, and their mutilated and half-eaten bodies were discovered on
the floor of their hut in the morning. Evidence pointed to their having
been killed by a tiger; and as they had been the sworn enemies of the
young man whose metamorphosis I had witnessed, it was not difficult to
guess at the identity of their destroyer.
"I related my adventure to one of the chief people, and he informed me
he knew that particular kulpa-tree well. 'You undoubtedly owe your
salvation to having touched it,' he said. 'The original kulpa, which now
stands in the first heaven, is said to have been one of the fourteen
remarkable things turned up by the churning of the ocean by the gods and
demons; and the name of Ram and his consort Seeter are written on the
silvery trunks of all its earthly descendants. If once you touch any
portion of a kulpa briksha tree, you are quite safe from any
animal--that is why the wer-tiger snarled and ran away! But take my
advice, sahib, and leave the village.'
"I did so, and on the way to my home in the hills visited the tree.
There, sure enough, plainly visible on the silvery surface in the
twilight, was the name of the incarnation of Vishnu, written in Sanskrit
characters, and apparently by some supernatural hand; that is to say,
there was a softness in the impression, as if the finger of some
supernatural being had traced the characters. I did not want any further
proofs--I had had enough; and taking good care to see my gun was loaded,
I hurried off. Nor have I ever ventured into that neighbourhood since."
Mr. K----, continuing, informed me that from what he had been told by
his friend in the Kandh village, he concluded that only those who had
been initiated into the full rites of magic in their early youth could
see the totem in its full state of materialization, _i.e._, an enormous
tiger--half man and half beast. To those who were in some degree
clairvoyant it would appear as it had appeared to him, a mere column of
crimson light (crimson on account of its association with Black Magic);
whilst to those who were not in any way clairvoyant it would remain
entirely invisible. The young Kandh had prayed for the property of
lycanthropy solely as a means of revenge on those whom he imagined had
wronged him; and as a wer-tiger he was able to destroy them in the most
cruel manner possible. The property when once acquired, however, could
never be cast off, and the young man would, willy-nilly, undergo
transmutation every night, and in all probability continue killing and
eating people till some one plucked up the courage--for wer-tigers were
not only dreaded, but held in the greatest awe--to shoot him.
There are certain tribes in India known to be adepts in Occultism, and
therefore one is not surprised to find lycanthropy linked with the
mysterious jugglery, etherical projection, and other psychic feats
accomplished by these tribesmen. The wer-tiger is not confined to the
Kandhs: it is met with in Malaysia, in the gorgeous tropical forests of
Java and Sumatra, where it is feared more than anything on earth by the
gentle and intelligent natives; and, if rumour be true, in the great,
lone mountains and dense jungles, and along the hot, unhealthy
river-banks of New Guinea.
In Arawak, it gives place to the wer-jaguar; in Ashangoland, and many
parts of West Africa, to the wer-leopard. Of course, there are cases of
charlatanism in lycanthropy as in medicine, politics, palmistry, and in
every other science. But most, if not all, of these cases of sham
lycanthropy seem to come from West Africa, where leopard societies are
from time to time formed by young savages unable to restrain their
craving for cannibalism. These human vampires dress up in leopard-skins,
and stealing stealthily through the woods at night, attack stray
pedestrians or isolated households. After killing their victims, they
cut off any portions of the body--usually the breasts and thighs--they
fancy most for eating, and then mutilate the rest with the signia of
their society, _i.e._, long and deep scratchings, which are made either
with the claws of a leopard or some other beast, or with sharp iron
nails. Whole districts are often put in a state of panic by these
marauders, who, retiring to their retreat in the heart of some little
known, vast, and almost impenetrable forest, successfully defy capture.
But the fact of there being pseudo-wer-leopards by no means disposes of
the fact that there are genuine ones, any more than the fact that there
are charlatan palmists precludes the possibility of there being _bona
fide_ palmists; and I am inclined to believe lycanthropy exists in
certain parts of West Africa (_i.e._, where primitive conditions are
most in evidence), although not, perhaps, to the same extent as it does
in Asia and Europe. I do not think the negro's relationship to the
Occult Forces is quite the same as that of other races. He is often
clairvoyant and clairaudiant, and always very much in awe of the
superphysical; but it is rarely he can ever claim close intimacy with
it--not close enough, at all events, to be the recipient of its special
gifts.
In werwolfery there is no "totem." The property of metamorphosis, in
this branch of lycanthropy, is not deemed the gift of a national deity,
but either of the Occult Powers in general or of some particular local
phantasm. In other branches of lycanthropy, viz., that of the wer-tiger
and wer-leopard--I am doubtful about the wer-jaguar--the property of
transmutation is said to be conferred solely by the god, or a god, of
the tribe.
But although these various properties of lycanthropy are apparently
derived from different sources, the difference is only in outward form;
and I have no hesitation in saying that the occult power from which all
lycanthropy proceeds, whether in the form of a wolf, tiger, leopard, or
any other beast, is in reality the same species of Elemental.[32:1] But
whether a Vagrarian, Vice, or some other Elemental, I cannot possibly
say.
I have stated that I am doubtful as to whether totemism exists in
Arawak. The truth is, with regard to this question, I am in receipt of
somewhat conflicting testimony. Some say that the natives have as their
god a deity in the form of a jaguar, to whom they pray for vengeance on
their foes and for the property of lycanthropy; which property (_vide_
the case of the Kandhs) would give them the additional pleasure of
executing vengeance in their own person. On the other hand, I have heard
that the form of a jaguar is the form most commonly assumed by spirits
in Arawak, particularly by those invoked at seances. Hence it is
extremely difficult to arrive at the truth. From the corroborating
testimony of various people, however, I conclude that whereas among the
Kandhs and West African negroes the property of lycanthropy (unless, of
course, hereditary) is rarely conferred on females, or on anyone younger
than sixteen, in Arawak and Malaysia it is awarded regardless of sex or
age.
Some years ago there was current, among certain tribes of the natives in
Arawak, a story to this effect:--
A Dutch trader, of the name of Van Hielen, was visiting for purely
business purposes an Indian settlement in a very remote part of the
colony. Roaming about the village one evening, he came to a hut standing
alone on the outskirts of one of those dense forests that are so
characteristic of Arawak. Van Hielen paused, and was marvelling how
anyone could choose to live in so outlandish and lonely a spot, when a
shrill scream, followed by a series of violent guttural ejaculations,
came from the interior of the building, and the next moment a little
boy--some seven or eight years of age--rushed out of the house, pursued
by a prodigiously fat woman, who whacked him soundly across the
shoulders with a knotted club and then halted for want of breath. Van
Hielen, who was well versed in the native language, politely asked her
what the boy had done to deserve so severe a chastisement.
"Done!" the woman replied, opening her beady little eyes to their full
extent; "why, he's not done anything--that's why I beat him--he's
incorrigibly idle. He and his sister spend all their time amid the trees
yonder conversing with the bad spirits. They learned that trick from
Guska, with the evil eye. She has bewitched them. She was shot to death
with arrows in the market-place last year, and my only regret is that
she wasn't put out of the way ten years sooner. Ah! there's that wicked
girl Yarakna--she's been hiding from me all the day. I must punish her,
too!" and before Van Hielen could speak the indignant parent waddled
off--with surprising swiftness for one of her vast proportions--and
reappeared dragging by the wrist an elfish-looking girl of about ten.
She gave the urchin one blow, and was about to give her another, when
Van Hielen, whose heart was particularly tender where children were
concerned, interfered, and by dint of bribery persuaded her to desist.
She retired indoors, and Van Hielen found himself alone with the child.
"May the spirit of the woods for ever be your friend!" the maiden said.
"But for you my poor back would have been beaten to a tonka bean. My
brother and I have suffered enough at the hands of the old woman--we'll
suffer no more."
"What will you do then?" Van Hielen asked, shocked at the revengeful
expression that marred the otherwise pretty features of the child.
"Remember, she is your mother, and has every right to expect you to be
obedient and industrious."
"She is not our mother!" the girl answered. "Our mother is the spirit of
the woods. We work for her--not for this old woman, and in return she
tells us tales and amuses us."
"You work for her!" Van Hielen said in amazement. "What do you mean?"
The child smiled--the ignorance of the white man tickled her. "We gather
aloes for medicine for her sick children; the core of the lechugilla for
their food, yucca leaves for plumes for their heads, and scarlet
panicles of the _Fouquiera splendens_ for their clothes. My brother and
I will go to her to-night when the old woman is sleeping. Where? Ah! we
do not tell anyone that. Do we see her? The spirit of the woods, you
mean? Yes, we see her, but it is not every one who can see her--only
those who have sight like ours. But I must go now--my brother is calling
me."
Van Hielen could hear nothing; though he did not doubt, from the child's
behaviour, that she had been called. She ran merrily away, and he
watched her black head disappear in the thick undergrowth facing him.
Van Hielen's curiosity was roused. What the child had said impressed him
deeply; and against his saner judgment he resolved to secrete himself
near the hut and watch. After it had been dusk some time, and all sounds
had ceased, he saw the two children emerge from the hut, and, tiptoeing
softly towards the trees, fall on their hands and knees and crawl along
a tiny, deviating path. Hardly knowing what he was doing, but impelled
by a force he could not resist, Van Hielen followed them. It was a
delicious night--at that time of year every night in Arawak is
delicious--and Van Hielen, who was very simple in his love of nature,
imbibed delight through every pore in his body. As he trod gently along,
pushing first this branch and then that out of the way, and stooping
down to half his height to creep under a formidable bramble, countless
voices from animal land fell on his ears. From a glimmering patch of
water, away on his left, came the trump of a bull-frog and the wail of
the whip-poor-will; a monkey chattered, a parrot screeched, whilst a
shrill cry of terror, accompanied by a savage growl, plainly told of the
surprise and slaughter of some defenceless animal by one of the many big
beasts of prey that made every tree their lurking place.
On any other occasion Van Hielen would have thought twice before
embarking on such an expedition; but that night he seemed to be
labouring under some charm which had lulled to sleep all sense of
insecurity. It was true he was armed, but of what avail is a rifle
against the unexpected spring of a jaguar or leopard--from a bough some
ten or twenty feet directly over one's head--or the sudden lunge of a
boa constrictor!
At first, the path wound its way through a dense chapparal consisting of
the various shrubs and plants rarely to be met with in other parts of
Arawak, namely, acacias, aloes, lechuguillas, and the _Fouquiera
splendens_. But after a short time this kind of vegetation was succeeded
by something far more imposing--by dense masses of trees, many of them
at the least one hundred and fifty feet in height: the mora, which from
a distance appears like a hillock clothed with the brightest vegetation;
the ayucari, or red cedar; and the cuamara, laden with tonka beans. So
thick was their foliage overhead that one by one Van Hielen watched the
stars disappear; and the path ahead of him darkened till it was as much
as he could do to grope along. Still he was not afraid. The thought of
that elfish little maiden with the luminous eyes crawling along in front
of him inspired him with extraordinary confidence and he plunged on,
anxious only to catch another glimpse of her and see the play out. Once
his progress was interrupted by something hot and leathery, that pushed
him nearly off his feet and puffed rudely in his face. It was on the tip
of his tongue to give vent to his ruffled feelings in forcible language,
but the knowledge that this would assuredly warn the children of his
proximity kept him quiet, and he contented himself with striking a
vigorous blow. There was a loud snort, a crashing and breaking of
brushwood, and the thing, whatever it was, rushed away. Another time he
stumbled over a snake which was gliding from one side of the path to the
other. The creature hissed, and Van Hielen, giving himself up for lost,
jumped for all he was worth. As luck would have it the snake missed, and
Van Hielen, escaping with nothing more serious than a few scratches and
a bump or two, was able to continue his course. After long gropings the
path at length came to an end, the trees cleared, and Van Hielen saw
before him a pool, radiantly illuminated by the moon, and in the very
centre--an immense Victoria Regia water-lily.
Though accustomed to the fine species of this plant in Guiana--which is
the home of the Victoria Regia--Van Hielen was doubtful if he had ever
before beheld such a magnificent specimen. The silvery moonlight,
falling on its white and pink petals, threw into relief all the
exquisite delicacy of their composition, and gave to them a glow which
could only have been rivalled in Elysium. Indeed, the whole scene,
enhanced by the glamour of the hour and the sweet scent of plants and
flowers, was so reminiscent of fairyland that Van Hielen--enraptured
beyond description--stood and gazed in open-mouthed ecstasy.
Then his eyes fell on the children and he noiselessly slipped back under
cover of a tree.
Hand in hand the boy and girl advanced to the water's edge, and
kneeling, commenced to recite some strange incantation, which Van Hielen
tried in vain to interpret. Sometimes their voices reached a high,
plaintive key; sometimes they sank to a low murmur, strangely musical,
and strangely suggestive of the babbling of brook water over stones and
pebbles. When they had finished their incantation, they got up, and
running to some bushes, returned in a few seconds with their arms full
of flowers, which they threw with great dexterity on to the leaves of
the giant lily. With their faces still turned to the water they remained
standing, side by side, whilst a silence--deep and impressive, and
shared, so it appeared to Van Hielen, by all nature--fell upon them.
A cold current of air, rising apparently from the pool, blew across the
opening, and sweeping past Van Hielen, set all the leaves in motion. It
rustled on till its echoes gradually ceased, and all was still again. It
now seemed to Van Hielen that the character of everything around
underwent a subtle change; and the feeling that every object around him
was indulging in a hearty laugh at his expense intensified with every
breath he drew. For the first time Van Hielen was afraid. He could not
define the cause of his fear--but that only made his fear the more
acute. He was frightened of the wind and darkness, and of something more
than the wind and darkness--something concealed in--something cloaked by
the wind and darkness. Even the atmosphere had altered--it, too, was
making game of him. It distorted his vision. The things he saw around
him were no longer stationary--they moved. They twirled and twisted
themselves into all sorts of grotesque and fanciful attitudes; grew
large, then small; nearer and then more distant. The plot of ground in
front of which the children knelt played all manner of pranks--pranks
Van Hielen did not at all like. It moved round and round--faster and
faster, until it eventually became a whirlpool; which suddenly reversed
and assumed the appearance of a pyramid revolving on its apex. Quicker
and quicker it spun round--closer and closer it drew; until, without
warning, it suddenly stopped and disappeared; whilst its place was taken
by an oddly shaped bulge in the ground, which, swaying backward and
forward, increased and increased in stature, till it attained the height
of some seven or eight feet. Van Hielen could not compare this with
anything he had ever seen. It was monstrous but shapeless--a mere mass
of irregular lumps, a dull leadish white, and vibrating horribly in the
moonlight. He thought of the children; but where they had stood he saw
only two greenish-yellow spheres that, twirling round and round,
suddenly approached him. As he started back to escape them, all was
again changed. The lumpy figure had vanished, the atmosphere cleared,
and everything was absolutely normal. There were now, however, solid
grounds for fear. Advancing on him with flashing eyes and scintillating
teeth were two vividly marked jaguars--a male and female. Van Hielen,
usually calm and collected in the face of danger, on this occasion lost
his presence of mind: his gun dropped from his hands, his knees
quivered, and, helpless and inert, he reeled against the tree under
which he had been standing. The jaguars--which seemed to be unusually
savage even for jaguars--prepared to spring, and Van Hielen, certain
his hour had come, was about to close his eyes and resign himself to his
fate, when the female brute, although the bigger and more formidable,
hesitated--thrust its dark, handsomely spotted head almost in its
victim's face, and then, lashing its companion sharply with its tail,
swerved aside and was off like a dart.
It took Van Hielen some minutes to realize his escape, and then, more in
a dream than awake, he mechanically shouldered his rifle and slowly
followed in the beasts' wake.
An hour's walking brought him to the end of the forest. The dawn was
breaking, and the track leading to the settlement was just beginning to
exhibit the mellowing influence of the first rays of the sun. There was
an exhilarating freshness in the air that made Van Hielen keenly
sensitive to the ambitious demands of a newly awakened stomach. Opposite
him was the hut of the old woman, the entrance somewhat clumsily blocked
with a makeshift door. As Van Hielen looked at it curiously, wondering
if the woman was in the habit of barricading it in this fashion on
account of her proximity to the forest, sounds greeted him from within.
Stepping lightly up to the hut, Van Hielen listened attentively. Some
big animal--a hound most probably--was gnawing a bone--crunch, crunch,
crunch!
Van Hielen moved away, but hadn't gone very far before an indefinable
something made him turn back. That crunching, was it a dog or was
it----? His heart turned sick within him at the bare thought. Again he
listened at the threshold, and again he heard the sounds--gnaw, gnaw,
gnaw--crunch, crunch, crunch! He rapped at first gently, and then
loudly, ever so loudly.
The gnawing at once stopped, but no one answered him. Then he
called--once, twice, thrice: there was no reply. Assured now there was
something amiss, he gripped his rifle, and putting his shoulder to the
door, burst it open. A flood of daylight rushed in, and he saw before
him on the floor the mutilated and half-eaten remains of a woman,
and--did his eyes deceive him or did he see?--crouching in a corner all
ready to spring, two magnificent jaguars. Van Hielen raised his rifle,
but--in less than a second--it fell from his grasp.
Towards him, from the same spot--their small mouths and slender hands
smeared with blood--ran Yarakna and her brother.
FOOTNOTES:
[32:1] A spirit that has never inhabited any material body. Elementals
are a genus of a large order, and include innumerable species.