(The Story written by Edward Prendick.)
I.
IN THE DINGEY OF THE “LADY VAIN.”
I do not propose to add anything to what has already been written
concerning the loss of the _Lady Vain_. As everyone knows, she collided
with a derelict when ten days out from Callao. The longboat, with seven
of the crew, was picked up eighteen days after by H. M. gunboat
_Myrtle_, and the story of their terrible privations has become quite
as well known as the far more horrible _Medusa_ case. But I have to add
to the published story of the _Lady Vain_ another, possibly as horrible
and far stranger. It has hitherto been supposed that the four men who
were in the dingey perished, but this is incorrect. I have the best of
evidence for this assertion: I was one of the four men.
But in the first place I must state that there never were _four_ men in
the dingey,—the number was three. Constans, who was “seen by the
captain to jump into the gig,”[1] luckily for us and unluckily for
himself did not reach us. He came down out of the tangle of ropes under
the stays of the smashed bowsprit, some small rope caught his heel as
he let go, and he hung for a moment head downward, and then fell and
struck a block or spar floating in the water. We pulled towards him,
but he never came up.
[1] _Daily News_, March 17, 1887.
I say luckily for us he did not reach us, and I might almost say
luckily for himself; for we had only a small beaker of water and some
soddened ship’s biscuits with us, so sudden had been the alarm, so
unprepared the ship for any disaster. We thought the people on the
launch would be better provisioned (though it seems they were not), and
we tried to hail them. They could not have heard us, and the next
morning when the drizzle cleared,—which was not until past midday,—we
could see nothing of them. We could not stand up to look about us,
because of the pitching of the boat. The two other men who had escaped
so far with me were a man named Helmar, a passenger like myself, and a
seaman whose name I don’t know,—a short sturdy man, with a stammer.
We drifted famishing, and, after our water had come to an end,
tormented by an intolerable thirst, for eight days altogether. After
the second day the sea subsided slowly to a glassy calm. It is quite
impossible for the ordinary reader to imagine those eight days. He has
not, luckily for himself, anything in his memory to imagine with. After
the first day we said little to one another, and lay in our places in
the boat and stared at the horizon, or watched, with eyes that grew
larger and more haggard every day, the misery and weakness gaining upon
our companions. The sun became pitiless. The water ended on the fourth
day, and we were already thinking strange things and saying them with
our eyes; but it was, I think, the sixth before Helmar gave voice to
the thing we had all been thinking. I remember our voices were dry and
thin, so that we bent towards one another and spared our words. I stood
out against it with all my might, was rather for scuttling the boat and
perishing together among the sharks that followed us; but when Helmar
said that if his proposal was accepted we should have drink, the sailor
came round to him.
I would not draw lots however, and in the night the sailor whispered to
Helmar again and again, and I sat in the bows with my clasp-knife in my
hand, though I doubt if I had the stuff in me to fight; and in the
morning I agreed to Helmar’s proposal, and we handed halfpence to find
the odd man. The lot fell upon the sailor; but he was the strongest of
us and would not abide by it, and attacked Helmar with his hands. They
grappled together and almost stood up. I crawled along the boat to
them, intending to help Helmar by grasping the sailor’s leg; but the
sailor stumbled with the swaying of the boat, and the two fell upon the
gunwale and rolled overboard together. They sank like stones. I
remember laughing at that, and wondering why I laughed. The laugh
caught me suddenly like a thing from without.
I lay across one of the thwarts for I know not how long, thinking that
if I had the strength I would drink sea-water and madden myself to die
quickly. And even as I lay there I saw, with no more interest than if
it had been a picture, a sail come up towards me over the sky-line. My
mind must have been wandering, and yet I remember all that happened,
quite distinctly. I remember how my head swayed with the seas, and the
horizon with the sail above it danced up and down; but I also remember
as distinctly that I had a persuasion that I was dead, and that I
thought what a jest it was that they should come too late by such a
little to catch me in my body.
For an endless period, as it seemed to me, I lay with my head on the
thwart watching the schooner (she was a little ship, schooner-rigged
fore and aft) come up out of the sea. She kept tacking to and fro in a
widening compass, for she was sailing dead into the wind. It never
entered my head to attempt to attract attention, and I do not remember
anything distinctly after the sight of her side until I found myself in
a little cabin aft. There’s a dim half-memory of being lifted up to the
gangway, and of a big round countenance covered with freckles and
surrounded with red hair staring at me over the bulwarks. I also had a
disconnected impression of a dark face, with extraordinary eyes, close
to mine; but that I thought was a nightmare, until I met it again. I
fancy I recollect some stuff being poured in between my teeth; and that
is all.
II.
THE MAN WHO WAS GOING NOWHERE.
The cabin in which I found myself was small and rather untidy. A
youngish man with flaxen hair, a bristly straw-coloured moustache, and
a dropping nether lip, was sitting and holding my wrist. For a minute
we stared at each other without speaking. He had watery grey eyes,
oddly void of expression. Then just overhead came a sound like an iron
bedstead being knocked about, and the low angry growling of some large
animal. At the same time the man spoke. He repeated his question,—“How
do you feel now?”
I think I said I felt all right. I could not recollect how I had got
there. He must have seen the question in my face, for my voice was
inaccessible to me.
“You were picked up in a boat, starving. The name on the boat was the
_Lady Vain_, and there were spots of blood on the gunwale.”
At the same time my eye caught my hand, so thin that it looked like a
dirty skin-purse full of loose bones, and all the business of the boat
came back to me.
“Have some of this,” said he, and gave me a dose of some scarlet stuff,
iced.
It tasted like blood, and made me feel stronger.
“You were in luck,” said he, “to get picked up by a ship with a medical
man aboard.” He spoke with a slobbering articulation, with the ghost of
a lisp.
“What ship is this?” I said slowly, hoarse from my long silence.
“It’s a little trader from Arica and Callao. I never asked where she
came from in the beginning,—out of the land of born fools, I guess. I’m
a passenger myself, from Arica. The silly ass who owns her,—he’s
captain too, named Davies,—he’s lost his certificate, or something. You
know the kind of man,—calls the thing the _Ipecacuanha_, of all silly,
infernal names; though when there’s much of a sea without any wind, she
certainly acts according.”
(Then the noise overhead began again, a snarling growl and the voice of
a human being together. Then another voice, telling some
“Heaven-forsaken idiot” to desist.)
“You were nearly dead,” said my interlocutor. “It was a very near
thing, indeed. But I’ve put some stuff into you now. Notice your arm’s
sore? Injections. You’ve been insensible for nearly thirty hours.”
I thought slowly. (I was distracted now by the yelping of a number of
dogs.) “Am I eligible for solid food?” I asked.
“Thanks to me,” he said. “Even now the mutton is boiling.”
“Yes,” I said with assurance; “I could eat some mutton.”
“But,” said he with a momentary hesitation, “you know I’m dying to hear
of how you came to be alone in that boat. _Damn that howling_!” I
thought I detected a certain suspicion in his eyes.
He suddenly left the cabin, and I heard him in violent controversy with
some one, who seemed to me to talk gibberish in response to him. The
matter sounded as though it ended in blows, but in that I thought my
ears were mistaken. Then he shouted at the dogs, and returned to the
cabin.
“Well?” said he in the doorway. “You were just beginning to tell me.”
I told him my name, Edward Prendick, and how I had taken to Natural
History as a relief from the dulness of my comfortable independence.
He seemed interested in this. “I’ve done some science myself. I did my
Biology at University College,—getting out the ovary of the earthworm
and the radula of the snail, and all that. Lord! It’s ten years ago.
But go on! go on! tell me about the boat.”
He was evidently satisfied with the frankness of my story, which I told
in concise sentences enough, for I felt horribly weak; and when it was
finished he reverted at once to the topic of Natural History and his
own biological studies. He began to question me closely about Tottenham
Court Road and Gower Street. “Is Caplatzi still flourishing? What a
shop that was!” He had evidently been a very ordinary medical student,
and drifted incontinently to the topic of the music halls. He told me
some anecdotes.
“Left it all,” he said, “ten years ago. How jolly it all used to be!
But I made a young ass of myself,—played myself out before I was
twenty-one. I daresay it’s all different now. But I must look up that
ass of a cook, and see what he’s done to your mutton.”
The growling overhead was renewed, so suddenly and with so much savage
anger that it startled me. “What’s that?” I called after him, but the
door had closed. He came back again with the boiled mutton, and I was
so excited by the appetising smell of it that I forgot the noise of the
beast that had troubled me.
After a day of alternate sleep and feeding I was so far recovered as to
be able to get from my bunk to the scuttle, and see the green seas
trying to keep pace with us. I judged the schooner was running before
the wind. Montgomery—that was the name of the flaxen-haired man—came in
again as I stood there, and I asked him for some clothes. He lent me
some duck things of his own, for those I had worn in the boat had been
thrown overboard. They were rather loose for me, for he was large and
long in his limbs. He told me casually that the captain was three-parts
drunk in his own cabin. As I assumed the clothes, I began asking him
some questions about the destination of the ship. He said the ship was
bound to Hawaii, but that it had to land him first.
“Where?” said I.
“It’s an island, where I live. So far as I know, it hasn’t got a name.”
He stared at me with his nether lip dropping, and looked so wilfully
stupid of a sudden that it came into my head that he desired to avoid
my questions. I had the discretion to ask no more.
III.
THE STRANGE FACE.
We left the cabin and found a man at the companion obstructing our way.
He was standing on the ladder with his back to us, peering over the
combing of the hatchway. He was, I could see, a misshapen man, short,
broad, and clumsy, with a crooked back, a hairy neck, and a head sunk
between his shoulders. He was dressed in dark-blue serge, and had
peculiarly thick, coarse, black hair. I heard the unseen dogs growl
furiously, and forthwith he ducked back,—coming into contact with the
hand I put out to fend him off from myself. He turned with animal
swiftness.
In some indefinable way the black face thus flashed upon me shocked me
profoundly. It was a singularly deformed one. The facial part
projected, forming something dimly suggestive of a muzzle, and the huge
half-open mouth showed as big white teeth as I had ever seen in a human
mouth. His eyes were blood-shot at the edges, with scarcely a rim of
white round the hazel pupils. There was a curious glow of excitement in
his face.
“Confound you!” said Montgomery. “Why the devil don’t you get out of
the way?”
The black-faced man started aside without a word. I went on up the
companion, staring at him instinctively as I did so. Montgomery stayed
at the foot for a moment. “You have no business here, you know,” he
said in a deliberate tone. “Your place is forward.”
The black-faced man cowered. “They—won’t have me forward.” He spoke
slowly, with a queer, hoarse quality in his voice.
“Won’t have you forward!” said Montgomery, in a menacing voice. “But I
tell you to go!” He was on the brink of saying something further, then
looked up at me suddenly and followed me up the ladder.
I had paused half way through the hatchway, looking back, still
astonished beyond measure at the grotesque ugliness of this black-faced
creature. I had never beheld such a repulsive and extraordinary face
before, and yet—if the contradiction is credible—I experienced at the
same time an odd feeling that in some way I _had_ already encountered
exactly the features and gestures that now amazed me. Afterwards it
occurred to me that probably I had seen him as I was lifted aboard; and
yet that scarcely satisfied my suspicion of a previous acquaintance.
Yet how one could have set eyes on so singular a face and yet have
forgotten the precise occasion, passed my imagination.
Montgomery’s movement to follow me released my attention, and I turned
and looked about me at the flush deck of the little schooner. I was
already half prepared by the sounds I had heard for what I saw.
Certainly I never beheld a deck so dirty. It was littered with scraps
of carrot, shreds of green stuff, and indescribable filth. Fastened by
chains to the mainmast were a number of grisly staghounds, who now
began leaping and barking at me, and by the mizzen a huge puma was
cramped in a little iron cage far too small even to give it turning
room. Farther under the starboard bulwark were some big hutches
containing a number of rabbits, and a solitary llama was squeezed in a
mere box of a cage forward. The dogs were muzzled by leather straps.
The only human being on deck was a gaunt and silent sailor at the
wheel.
The patched and dirty spankers were tense before the wind, and up aloft
the little ship seemed carrying every sail she had. The sky was clear,
the sun midway down the western sky; long waves, capped by the breeze
with froth, were running with us. We went past the steersman to the
taffrail, and saw the water come foaming under the stern and the
bubbles go dancing and vanishing in her wake. I turned and surveyed the
unsavoury length of the ship.
“Is this an ocean menagerie?” said I.
“Looks like it,” said Montgomery.
“What are these beasts for? Merchandise, curios? Does the captain think
he is going to sell them somewhere in the South Seas?”
“It looks like it, doesn’t it?” said Montgomery, and turned towards the
wake again.
Suddenly we heard a yelp and a volley of furious blasphemy from the
companion hatchway, and the deformed man with the black face came up
hurriedly. He was immediately followed by a heavy red-haired man in a
white cap. At the sight of the former the staghounds, who had all tired
of barking at me by this time, became furiously excited, howling and
leaping against their chains. The black hesitated before them, and this
gave the red-haired man time to come up with him and deliver a
tremendous blow between the shoulder-blades. The poor devil went down
like a felled ox, and rolled in the dirt among the furiously excited
dogs. It was lucky for him that they were muzzled. The red-haired man
gave a yawp of exultation and stood staggering, and as it seemed to me
in serious danger of either going backwards down the companion hatchway
or forwards upon his victim.
So soon as the second man had appeared, Montgomery had started forward.
“Steady on there!” he cried, in a tone of remonstrance. A couple of
sailors appeared on the forecastle. The black-faced man, howling in a
singular voice rolled about under the feet of the dogs. No one
attempted to help him. The brutes did their best to worry him, butting
their muzzles at him. There was a quick dance of their lithe
grey-figured bodies over the clumsy, prostrate figure. The sailors
forward shouted, as though it was admirable sport. Montgomery gave an
angry exclamation, and went striding down the deck, and I followed him.
The black-faced man scrambled up and staggered forward, going and
leaning over the bulwark by the main shrouds, where he remained,
panting and glaring over his shoulder at the dogs. The red-haired man
laughed a satisfied laugh.
“Look here, Captain,” said Montgomery, with his lisp a little
accentuated, gripping the elbows of the red-haired man, “this won’t
do!”
I stood behind Montgomery. The captain came half round, and regarded
him with the dull and solemn eyes of a drunken man. “Wha’ won’t do?” he
said, and added, after looking sleepily into Montgomery’s face for a
minute, “Blasted Sawbones!”
With a sudden movement he shook his arms free, and after two
ineffectual attempts stuck his freckled fists into his side pockets.
“That man’s a passenger,” said Montgomery. “I’d advise you to keep your
hands off him.”
“Go to hell!” said the captain, loudly. He suddenly turned and
staggered towards the side. “Do what I like on my own ship,” he said.
I think Montgomery might have left him then, seeing the brute was
drunk; but he only turned a shade paler, and followed the captain to
the bulwarks.
“Look you here, Captain,” he said; “that man of mine is not to be
ill-treated. He has been hazed ever since he came aboard.”
For a minute, alcoholic fumes kept the captain speechless. “Blasted
Sawbones!” was all he considered necessary.
I could see that Montgomery had one of those slow, pertinacious tempers
that will warm day after day to a white heat, and never again cool to
forgiveness; and I saw too that this quarrel had been some time
growing. “The man’s drunk,” said I, perhaps officiously; “you’ll do no
good.”
Montgomery gave an ugly twist to his dropping lip. “He’s always drunk.
Do you think that excuses his assaulting his passengers?”
“My ship,” began the captain, waving his hand unsteadily towards the
cages, “was a clean ship. Look at it now!” It was certainly anything
but clean. “Crew,” continued the captain, “clean, respectable crew.”
“You agreed to take the beasts.”
“I wish I’d never set eyes on your infernal island. What the devil—want
beasts for on an island like that? Then, that man of yours—understood
he was a man. He’s a lunatic; and he hadn’t no business aft. Do you
think the whole damned ship belongs to you?”
“Your sailors began to haze the poor devil as soon as he came aboard.”
“That’s just what he is—he’s a devil! an ugly devil! My men can’t stand
him. _I_ can’t stand him. None of us can’t stand him. Nor _you_
either!”
Montgomery turned away. “_You_ leave that man alone, anyhow,” he said,
nodding his head as he spoke.
But the captain meant to quarrel now. He raised his voice. “If he comes
this end of the ship again I’ll cut his insides out, I tell you. Cut
out his blasted insides! Who are _you_, to tell _me_ what _I’m_ to do?
I tell you I’m captain of this ship,—captain and owner. I’m the law
here, I tell you,—the law and the prophets. I bargained to take a man
and his attendant to and from Arica, and bring back some animals. I
never bargained to carry a mad devil and a silly Sawbones, a—”
Well, never mind what he called Montgomery. I saw the latter take a
step forward, and interposed. “He’s drunk,” said I. The captain began
some abuse even fouler than the last. “Shut up!” I said, turning on him
sharply, for I had seen danger in Montgomery’s white face. With that I
brought the downpour on myself.
However, I was glad to avert what was uncommonly near a scuffle, even
at the price of the captain’s drunken ill-will. I do not think I have
ever heard quite so much vile language come in a continuous stream from
any man’s lips before, though I have frequented eccentric company
enough. I found some of it hard to endure, though I am a mild-tempered
man; but, certainly, when I told the captain to “shut up” I had
forgotten that I was merely a bit of human flotsam, cut off from my
resources and with my fare unpaid; a mere casual dependant on the
bounty, or speculative enterprise, of the ship. He reminded me of it
with considerable vigour; but at any rate I prevented a fight.
IV.
AT THE SCHOONER’S RAIL.
That night land was sighted after sundown, and the schooner hove to.
Montgomery intimated that was his destination. It was too far to see
any details; it seemed to me then simply a low-lying patch of dim blue
in the uncertain blue-grey sea. An almost vertical streak of smoke went
up from it into the sky. The captain was not on deck when it was
sighted. After he had vented his wrath on me he had staggered below,
and I understand he went to sleep on the floor of his own cabin. The
mate practically assumed the command. He was the gaunt, taciturn
individual we had seen at the wheel. Apparently he was in an evil
temper with Montgomery. He took not the slightest notice of either of
us. We dined with him in a sulky silence, after a few ineffectual
efforts on my part to talk. It struck me too that the men regarded my
companion and his animals in a singularly unfriendly manner. I found
Montgomery very reticent about his purpose with these creatures, and
about his destination; and though I was sensible of a growing curiosity
as to both, I did not press him.
We remained talking on the quarter deck until the sky was thick with
stars. Except for an occasional sound in the yellow-lit forecastle and
a movement of the animals now and then, the night was very still. The
puma lay crouched together, watching us with shining eyes, a black heap
in the corner of its cage. Montgomery produced some cigars. He talked
to me of London in a tone of half-painful reminiscence, asking all
kinds of questions about changes that had taken place. He spoke like a
man who had loved his life there, and had been suddenly and irrevocably
cut off from it. I gossiped as well as I could of this and that. All
the time the strangeness of him was shaping itself in my mind; and as I
talked I peered at his odd, pallid face in the dim light of the
binnacle lantern behind me. Then I looked out at the darkling sea,
where in the dimness his little island was hidden.
This man, it seemed to me, had come out of Immensity merely to save my
life. To-morrow he would drop over the side, and vanish again out of my
existence. Even had it been under commonplace circumstances, it would
have made me a trifle thoughtful; but in the first place was the
singularity of an educated man living on this unknown little island,
and coupled with that the extraordinary nature of his luggage. I found
myself repeating the captain’s question. What did he want with the
beasts? Why, too, had he pretended they were not his when I had
remarked about them at first? Then, again, in his personal attendant
there was a bizarre quality which had impressed me profoundly. These
circumstances threw a haze of mystery round the man. They laid hold of
my imagination, and hampered my tongue.
Towards midnight our talk of London died away, and we stood side by
side leaning over the bulwarks and staring dreamily over the silent,
starlit sea, each pursuing his own thoughts. It was the atmosphere for
sentiment, and I began upon my gratitude.
“If I may say it,” said I, after a time, “you have saved my life.”
“Chance,” he answered. “Just chance.”
“I prefer to make my thanks to the accessible agent.”
“Thank no one. You had the need, and I had the knowledge; and I
injected and fed you much as I might have collected a specimen. I was
bored and wanted something to do. If I’d been jaded that day, or hadn’t
liked your face, well—it’s a curious question where you would have been
now!”
This damped my mood a little. “At any rate,” I began.
“It’s a chance, I tell you,” he interrupted, “as everything is in a
man’s life. Only the asses won’t see it! Why am I here now, an outcast
from civilisation, instead of being a happy man enjoying all the
pleasures of London? Simply because eleven years ago—I lost my head for
ten minutes on a foggy night.”
He stopped. “Yes?” said I.
“That’s all.”
We relapsed into silence. Presently he laughed. “There’s something in
this starlight that loosens one’s tongue. I’m an ass, and yet somehow I
would like to tell you.”
“Whatever you tell me, you may rely upon my keeping to myself—if that’s
it.”
He was on the point of beginning, and then shook his head, doubtfully.
“Don’t,” said I. “It is all the same to me. After all, it is better to
keep your secret. There’s nothing gained but a little relief if I
respect your confidence. If I don’t—well?”
He grunted undecidedly. I felt I had him at a disadvantage, had caught
him in the mood of indiscretion; and to tell the truth I was not
curious to learn what might have driven a young medical student out of
London. I have an imagination. I shrugged my shoulders and turned away.
Over the taffrail leant a silent black figure, watching the stars. It
was Montgomery’s strange attendant. It looked over its shoulder quickly
with my movement, then looked away again.
It may seem a little thing to you, perhaps, but it came like a sudden
blow to me. The only light near us was a lantern at the wheel. The
creature’s face was turned for one brief instant out of the dimness of
the stern towards this illumination, and I saw that the eyes that
glanced at me shone with a pale-green light. I did not know then that a
reddish luminosity, at least, is not uncommon in human eyes. The thing
came to me as stark inhumanity. That black figure with its eyes of fire
struck down through all my adult thoughts and feelings, and for a
moment the forgotten horrors of childhood came back to my mind. Then
the effect passed as it had come. An uncouth black figure of a man, a
figure of no particular import, hung over the taffrail against the
starlight, and I found Montgomery was speaking to me.
“I’m thinking of turning in, then,” said he, “if you’ve had enough of
this.”
I answered him incongruously. We went below, and he wished me
good-night at the door of my cabin.
That night I had some very unpleasant dreams. The waning moon rose
late. Its light struck a ghostly white beam across my cabin, and made
an ominous shape on the planking by my bunk. Then the staghounds woke,
and began howling and baying; so that I dreamt fitfully, and scarcely
slept until the approach of dawn.
V.
THE MAN WHO HAD NOWHERE TO GO.
In the early morning (it was the second morning after my recovery, and
I believe the fourth after I was picked up), I awoke through an avenue
of tumultuous dreams,—dreams of guns and howling mobs,—and became
sensible of a hoarse shouting above me. I rubbed my eyes and lay
listening to the noise, doubtful for a little while of my whereabouts.
Then came a sudden pattering of bare feet, the sound of heavy objects
being thrown about, a violent creaking and the rattling of chains. I
heard the swish of the water as the ship was suddenly brought round,
and a foamy yellow-green wave flew across the little round window and
left it streaming. I jumped into my clothes and went on deck.
As I came up the ladder I saw against the flushed sky—for the sun was
just rising—the broad back and red hair of the captain, and over his
shoulder the puma spinning from a tackle rigged on to the mizzen
spanker-boom.
The poor brute seemed horribly scared, and crouched in the bottom of
its little cage.
“Overboard with ’em!” bawled the captain. “Overboard with ’em! We’ll
have a clean ship soon of the whole bilin’ of ’em.”
He stood in my way, so that I had perforce to tap his shoulder to come
on deck. He came round with a start, and staggered back a few paces to
stare at me. It needed no expert eye to tell that the man was still
drunk.
“Hullo!” said he, stupidly; and then with a light coming into his eyes,
“Why, it’s Mister—Mister?”
“Prendick,” said I.
“Prendick be damned!” said he. “Shut-up,—that’s your name. Mister
Shut-up.”
It was no good answering the brute; but I certainly did not expect his
next move. He held out his hand to the gangway by which Montgomery
stood talking to a massive grey-haired man in dirty-blue flannels, who
had apparently just come aboard.
“That way, Mister Blasted Shut-up! that way!” roared the captain.
Montgomery and his companion turned as he spoke.
“What do you mean?” I said.
“That way, Mister Blasted Shut-up,—that’s what I mean! Overboard,
Mister Shut-up,—and sharp! We’re cleaning the ship out,—cleaning the
whole blessed ship out; and overboard you go!”
I stared at him dumfounded. Then it occurred to me that it was exactly
the thing I wanted. The lost prospect of a journey as sole passenger
with this quarrelsome sot was not one to mourn over. I turned towards
Montgomery.
“Can’t have you,” said Montgomery’s companion, concisely.
“You can’t have me!” said I, aghast. He had the squarest and most
resolute face I ever set eyes upon.
“Look here,” I began, turning to the captain.
“Overboard!” said the captain. “This ship aint for beasts and cannibals
and worse than beasts, any more. Overboard you go, Mister Shut-up. If
they can’t have you, you goes overboard. But, anyhow, you go—with your
friends. I’ve done with this blessed island for evermore, amen! I’ve
had enough of it.”
“But, Montgomery,” I appealed.
He distorted his lower lip, and nodded his head hopelessly at the
grey-haired man beside him, to indicate his powerlessness to help me.
“I’ll see to _you_, presently,” said the captain.
Then began a curious three-cornered altercation. Alternately I appealed
to one and another of the three men,—first to the grey-haired man to
let me land, and then to the drunken captain to keep me aboard. I even
bawled entreaties to the sailors. Montgomery said never a word, only
shook his head. “You’re going overboard, I tell you,” was the captain’s
refrain. “Law be damned! I’m king here.” At last I must confess my
voice suddenly broke in the middle of a vigorous threat. I felt a gust
of hysterical petulance, and went aft and stared dismally at nothing.
Meanwhile the sailors progressed rapidly with the task of unshipping
the packages and caged animals. A large launch, with two standing lugs,
lay under the lee of the schooner; and into this the strange assortment
of goods were swung. I did not then see the hands from the island that
were receiving the packages, for the hull of the launch was hidden from
me by the side of the schooner. Neither Montgomery nor his companion
took the slightest notice of me, but busied themselves in assisting and
directing the four or five sailors who were unloading the goods. The
captain went forward interfering rather than assisting. I was
alternately despairful and desperate. Once or twice as I stood waiting
there for things to accomplish themselves, I could not resist an
impulse to laugh at my miserable quandary. I felt all the wretcheder
for the lack of a breakfast. Hunger and a lack of blood-corpuscles take
all the manhood from a man. I perceived pretty clearly that I had not
the stamina either to resist what the captain chose to do to expel me,
or to force myself upon Montgomery and his companion. So I waited
passively upon fate; and the work of transferring Montgomery’s
possessions to the launch went on as if I did not exist.
Presently that work was finished, and then came a struggle. I was
hauled, resisting weakly enough, to the gangway. Even then I noticed
the oddness of the brown faces of the men who were with Montgomery in
the launch; but the launch was now fully laden, and was shoved off
hastily. A broadening gap of green water appeared under me, and I
pushed back with all my strength to avoid falling headlong. The hands
in the launch shouted derisively, and I heard Montgomery curse at them;
and then the captain, the mate, and one of the seamen helping him, ran
me aft towards the stern.
The dingey of the _Lady Vain_ had been towing behind; it was half full
of water, had no oars, and was quite unvictualled. I refused to go
aboard her, and flung myself full length on the deck. In the end, they
swung me into her by a rope (for they had no stern ladder), and then
they cut me adrift. I drifted slowly from the schooner. In a kind of
stupor I watched all hands take to the rigging, and slowly but surely
she came round to the wind; the sails fluttered, and then bellied out
as the wind came into them. I stared at her weather-beaten side heeling
steeply towards me; and then she passed out of my range of view.
I did not turn my head to follow her. At first I could scarcely believe
what had happened. I crouched in the bottom of the dingey, stunned, and
staring blankly at the vacant, oily sea. Then I realised that I was in
that little hell of mine again, now half swamped; and looking back over
the gunwale, I saw the schooner standing away from me, with the
red-haired captain mocking at me over the taffrail, and turning towards
the island saw the launch growing smaller as she approached the beach.
Abruptly the cruelty of this desertion became clear to me. I had no
means of reaching the land unless I should chance to drift there. I was
still weak, you must remember, from my exposure in the boat; I was
empty and very faint, or I should have had more heart. But as it was I
suddenly began to sob and weep, as I had never done since I was a
little child. The tears ran down my face. In a passion of despair I
struck with my fists at the water in the bottom of the boat, and kicked
savagely at the gunwale. I prayed aloud for God to let me die.
VI.
THE EVIL-LOOKING BOATMEN.
But the islanders, seeing that I was really adrift, took pity on me. I
drifted very slowly to the eastward, approaching the island slantingly;
and presently I saw, with hysterical relief, the launch come round and
return towards me. She was heavily laden, and I could make out as she
drew nearer Montgomery’s white-haired, broad-shouldered companion
sitting cramped up with the dogs and several packing-cases in the stern
sheets. This individual stared fixedly at me without moving or
speaking. The black-faced cripple was glaring at me as fixedly in the
bows near the puma. There were three other men besides,—three strange
brutish-looking fellows, at whom the staghounds were snarling savagely.
Montgomery, who was steering, brought the boat by me, and rising,
caught and fastened my painter to the tiller to tow me, for there was
no room aboard.
I had recovered from my hysterical phase by this time and answered his
hail, as he approached, bravely enough. I told him the dingey was
nearly swamped, and he reached me a piggin. I was jerked back as the
rope tightened between the boats. For some time I was busy baling.
It was not until I had got the water under (for the water in the dingey
had been shipped; the boat was perfectly sound) that I had leisure to
look at the people in the launch again.
The white-haired man I found was still regarding me steadfastly, but
with an expression, as I now fancied, of some perplexity. When my eyes
met his, he looked down at the staghound that sat between his knees. He
was a powerfully-built man, as I have said, with a fine forehead and
rather heavy features; but his eyes had that odd drooping of the skin
above the lids which often comes with advancing years, and the fall of
his heavy mouth at the corners gave him an expression of pugnacious
resolution. He talked to Montgomery in a tone too low for me to hear.
From him my eyes travelled to his three men; and a strange crew they
were. I saw only their faces, yet there was something in their faces—I
knew not what—that gave me a queer spasm of disgust. I looked steadily
at them, and the impression did not pass, though I failed to see what
had occasioned it. They seemed to me then to be brown men; but their
limbs were oddly swathed in some thin, dirty, white stuff down even to
the fingers and feet: I have never seen men so wrapped up before, and
women so only in the East. They wore turbans too, and thereunder peered
out their elfin faces at me,—faces with protruding lower-jaws and
bright eyes. They had lank black hair, almost like horsehair, and
seemed as they sat to exceed in stature any race of men I have seen.
The white-haired man, who I knew was a good six feet in height, sat a
head below any one of the three. I found afterwards that really none
were taller than myself; but their bodies were abnormally long, and the
thigh-part of the leg short and curiously twisted. At any rate, they
were an amazingly ugly gang, and over the heads of them under the
forward lug peered the black face of the man whose eyes were luminous
in the dark. As I stared at them, they met my gaze; and then first one
and then another turned away from my direct stare, and looked at me in
an odd, furtive manner. It occurred to me that I was perhaps annoying
them, and I turned my attention to the island we were approaching.
It was low, and covered with thick vegetation,—chiefly a kind of palm,
that was new to me. From one point a thin white thread of vapour rose
slantingly to an immense height, and then frayed out like a down
feather. We were now within the embrace of a broad bay flanked on
either hand by a low promontory. The beach was of dull-grey sand, and
sloped steeply up to a ridge, perhaps sixty or seventy feet above the
sea-level, and irregularly set with trees and undergrowth. Half way up
was a square enclosure of some greyish stone, which I found
subsequently was built partly of coral and partly of pumiceous lava.
Two thatched roofs peeped from within this enclosure. A man stood
awaiting us at the water’s edge. I fancied while we were still far off
that I saw some other and very grotesque-looking creatures scuttle into
the bushes upon the slope; but I saw nothing of these as we drew
nearer. This man was of a moderate size, and with a black negroid face.
He had a large, almost lipless, mouth, extraordinary lank arms, long
thin feet, and bow-legs, and stood with his heavy face thrust forward
staring at us. He was dressed like Montgomery and his white-haired
companion, in jacket and trousers of blue serge. As we came still
nearer, this individual began to run to and fro on the beach, making
the most grotesque movements.
At a word of command from Montgomery, the four men in the launch sprang
up, and with singularly awkward gestures struck the lugs. Montgomery
steered us round and into a narrow little dock excavated in the beach.
Then the man on the beach hastened towards us. This dock, as I call it,
was really a mere ditch just long enough at this phase of the tide to
take the longboat. I heard the bows ground in the sand, staved the
dingey off the rudder of the big boat with my piggin, and freeing the
painter, landed. The three muffled men, with the clumsiest movements,
scrambled out upon the sand, and forthwith set to landing the cargo,
assisted by the man on the beach. I was struck especially by the
curious movements of the legs of the three swathed and bandaged
boatmen,—not stiff they were, but distorted in some odd way, almost as
if they were jointed in the wrong place. The dogs were still snarling,
and strained at their chains after these men, as the white-haired man
landed with them. The three big fellows spoke to one another in odd
guttural tones, and the man who had waited for us on the beach began
chattering to them excitedly—a foreign language, as I fancied—as they
laid hands on some bales piled near the stern. Somewhere I had heard
such a voice before, and I could not think where. The white-haired man
stood, holding in a tumult of six dogs, and bawling orders over their
din. Montgomery, having unshipped the rudder, landed likewise, and all
set to work at unloading. I was too faint, what with my long fast and
the sun beating down on my bare head, to offer any assistance.
Presently the white-haired man seemed to recollect my presence, and
came up to me.
“You look,” said he, “as though you had scarcely breakfasted.” His
little eyes were a brilliant black under his heavy brows. “I must
apologise for that. Now you are our guest, we must make you
comfortable,—though you are uninvited, you know.” He looked keenly into
my face. “Montgomery says you are an educated man, Mr. Prendick; says
you know something of science. May I ask what that signifies?”
I told him I had spent some years at the Royal College of Science, and
had done some researches in biology under Huxley. He raised his
eyebrows slightly at that.
“That alters the case a little, Mr. Prendick,” he said, with a trifle
more respect in his manner. “As it happens, we are biologists here.
This is a biological station—of a sort.” His eye rested on the men in
white who were busily hauling the puma, on rollers, towards the walled
yard. “I and Montgomery, at least,” he added. Then, “When you will be
able to get away, I can’t say. We’re off the track to anywhere. We see
a ship once in a twelve-month or so.”
He left me abruptly, and went up the beach past this group, and I think
entered the enclosure. The other two men were with Montgomery, erecting
a pile of smaller packages on a low-wheeled truck. The llama was still
on the launch with the rabbit hutches; the staghounds were still lashed
to the thwarts. The pile of things completed, all three men laid hold
of the truck and began shoving the ton-weight or so upon it after the
puma. Presently Montgomery left them, and coming back to me held out
his hand.
“I’m glad,” said he, “for my own part. That captain was a silly ass.
He’d have made things lively for you.”
“It was you,” said I, “that saved me again.”
“That depends. You’ll find this island an infernally rum place, I
promise you. I’d watch my goings carefully, if I were you. _He_—” He
hesitated, and seemed to alter his mind about what was on his lips. “I
wish you’d help me with these rabbits,” he said.
His procedure with the rabbits was singular. I waded in with him, and
helped him lug one of the hutches ashore. No sooner was that done than
he opened the door of it, and tilting the thing on one end turned its
living contents out on the ground. They fell in a struggling heap one
on the top of the other. He clapped his hands, and forthwith they went
off with that hopping run of theirs, fifteen or twenty of them I should
think, up the beach.
“Increase and multiply, my friends,” said Montgomery. “Replenish the
island. Hitherto we’ve had a certain lack of meat here.”
As I watched them disappearing, the white-haired man returned with a
brandy-flask and some biscuits. “Something to go on with, Prendick,”
said he, in a far more familiar tone than before. I made no ado, but
set to work on the biscuits at once, while the white-haired man helped
Montgomery to release about a score more of the rabbits. Three big
hutches, however, went up to the house with the puma. The brandy I did
not touch, for I have been an abstainer from my birth.
VII.
THE LOCKED DOOR.
The reader will perhaps understand that at first everything was so
strange about me, and my position was the outcome of such unexpected
adventures, that I had no discernment of the relative strangeness of
this or that thing. I followed the llama up the beach, and was
overtaken by Montgomery, who asked me not to enter the stone enclosure.
I noticed then that the puma in its cage and the pile of packages had
been placed outside the entrance to this quadrangle.
I turned and saw that the launch had now been unloaded, run out again,
and was being beached, and the white-haired man was walking towards us.
He addressed Montgomery.
“And now comes the problem of this uninvited guest. What are we to do
with him?”
“He knows something of science,” said Montgomery.
“I’m itching to get to work again—with this new stuff,” said the
white-haired man, nodding towards the enclosure. His eyes grew
brighter.
“I daresay you are,” said Montgomery, in anything but a cordial tone.
“We can’t send him over there, and we can’t spare the time to build him
a new shanty; and we certainly can’t take him into our confidence just
yet.”
“I’m in your hands,” said I. I had no idea of what he meant by “over
there.”
“I’ve been thinking of the same things,” Montgomery answered. “There’s
my room with the outer door—”
“That’s it,” said the elder man, promptly, looking at Montgomery; and
all three of us went towards the enclosure. “I’m sorry to make a
mystery, Mr. Prendick; but you’ll remember you’re uninvited. Our little
establishment here contains a secret or so, is a kind of Blue-Beard’s
chamber, in fact. Nothing very dreadful, really, to a sane man; but
just now, as we don’t know you—”
“Decidedly,” said I, “I should be a fool to take offence at any want of
confidence.”
He twisted his heavy mouth into a faint smile—he was one of those
saturnine people who smile with the corners of the mouth down,—and
bowed his acknowledgment of my complaisance. The main entrance to the
enclosure was passed; it was a heavy wooden gate, framed in iron and
locked, with the cargo of the launch piled outside it, and at the
corner we came to a small doorway I had not previously observed. The
white-haired man produced a bundle of keys from the pocket of his
greasy blue jacket, opened this door, and entered. His keys, and the
elaborate locking-up of the place even while it was still under his
eye, struck me as peculiar. I followed him, and found myself in a small
apartment, plainly but not uncomfortably furnished and with its inner
door, which was slightly ajar, opening into a paved courtyard. This
inner door Montgomery at once closed. A hammock was slung across the
darker corner of the room, and a small unglazed window defended by an
iron bar looked out towards the sea.
This the white-haired man told me was to be my apartment; and the inner
door, which “for fear of accidents,” he said, he would lock on the
other side, was my limit inward. He called my attention to a convenient
deck-chair before the window, and to an array of old books, chiefly, I
found, surgical works and editions of the Latin and Greek classics
(languages I cannot read with any comfort), on a shelf near the
hammock. He left the room by the outer door, as if to avoid opening the
inner one again.
“We usually have our meals in here,” said Montgomery, and then, as if
in doubt, went out after the other. “Moreau!” I heard him call, and for
the moment I do not think I noticed. Then as I handled the books on the
shelf it came up in consciousness: Where had I heard the name of Moreau
before? I sat down before the window, took out the biscuits that still
remained to me, and ate them with an excellent appetite. Moreau!
Through the window I saw one of those unaccountable men in white,
lugging a packing-case along the beach. Presently the window-frame hid
him. Then I heard a key inserted and turned in the lock behind me.
After a little while I heard through the locked door the noise of the
staghounds, that had now been brought up from the beach. They were not
barking, but sniffing and growling in a curious fashion. I could hear
the rapid patter of their feet, and Montgomery’s voice soothing them.
I was very much impressed by the elaborate secrecy of these two men
regarding the contents of the place, and for some time I was thinking
of that and of the unaccountable familiarity of the name of Moreau; but
so odd is the human memory that I could not then recall that well-known
name in its proper connection. From that my thoughts went to the
indefinable queerness of the deformed man on the beach. I never saw
such a gait, such odd motions as he pulled at the box. I recalled that
none of these men had spoken to me, though most of them I had found
looking at me at one time or another in a peculiarly furtive manner,
quite unlike the frank stare of your unsophisticated savage. Indeed,
they had all seemed remarkably taciturn, and when they did speak,
endowed with very uncanny voices. What was wrong with them? Then I
recalled the eyes of Montgomery’s ungainly attendant.
Just as I was thinking of him he came in. He was now dressed in white,
and carried a little tray with some coffee and boiled vegetables
thereon. I could hardly repress a shuddering recoil as he came, bending
amiably, and placed the tray before me on the table. Then astonishment
paralysed me. Under his stringy black locks I saw his ear; it jumped
upon me suddenly close to my face. The man had pointed ears, covered
with a fine brown fur!
“Your breakfast, sair,” he said.
I stared at his face without attempting to answer him. He turned and
went towards the door, regarding me oddly over his shoulder. I followed
him out with my eyes; and as I did so, by some odd trick of unconscious
cerebration, there came surging into my head the phrase, “The Moreau
Hollows”—was it? “The Moreau—” Ah! It sent my memory back ten years.
“The Moreau Horrors!” The phrase drifted loose in my mind for a moment,
and then I saw it in red lettering on a little buff-coloured pamphlet,
to read which made one shiver and creep. Then I remembered distinctly
all about it. That long-forgotten pamphlet came back with startling
vividness to my mind. I had been a mere lad then, and Moreau was, I
suppose, about fifty,—a prominent and masterful physiologist,
well-known in scientific circles for his extraordinary imagination and
his brutal directness in discussion.
Was this the same Moreau? He had published some very astonishing facts
in connection with the transfusion of blood, and in addition was known
to be doing valuable work on morbid growths. Then suddenly his career
was closed. He had to leave England. A journalist obtained access to
his laboratory in the capacity of laboratory-assistant, with the
deliberate intention of making sensational exposures; and by the help
of a shocking accident (if it was an accident), his gruesome pamphlet
became notorious. On the day of its publication a wretched dog, flayed
and otherwise mutilated, escaped from Moreau’s house. It was in the
silly season, and a prominent editor, a cousin of the temporary
laboratory-assistant, appealed to the conscience of the nation. It was
not the first time that conscience has turned against the methods of
research. The doctor was simply howled out of the country. It may be
that he deserved to be; but I still think that the tepid support of his
fellow-investigators and his desertion by the great body of scientific
workers was a shameful thing. Yet some of his experiments, by the
journalist’s account, were wantonly cruel. He might perhaps have
purchased his social peace by abandoning his investigations; but he
apparently preferred the latter, as most men would who have once fallen
under the overmastering spell of research. He was unmarried, and had
indeed nothing but his own interest to consider.
I felt convinced that this must be the same man. Everything pointed to
it. It dawned upon me to what end the puma and the other animals—which
had now been brought with other luggage into the enclosure behind the
house—were destined; and a curious faint odour, the halitus of
something familiar, an odour that had been in the background of my
consciousness hitherto, suddenly came forward into the forefront of my
thoughts. It was the antiseptic odour of the dissecting-room. I heard
the puma growling through the wall, and one of the dogs yelped as
though it had been struck.
Yet surely, and especially to another scientific man, there was nothing
so horrible in vivisection as to account for this secrecy; and by some
odd leap in my thoughts the pointed ears and luminous eyes of
Montgomery’s attendant came back again before me with the sharpest
definition. I stared before me out at the green sea, frothing under a
freshening breeze, and let these and other strange memories of the last
few days chase one another through my mind.
What could it all mean? A locked enclosure on a lonely island, a
notorious vivisector, and these crippled and distorted men?
VIII.
THE CRYING OF THE PUMA.
Montgomery interrupted my tangle of mystification and suspicion about
one o’clock, and his grotesque attendant followed him with a tray
bearing bread, some herbs and other eatables, a flask of whiskey, a jug
of water, and three glasses and knives. I glanced askance at this
strange creature, and found him watching me with his queer, restless
eyes. Montgomery said he would lunch with me, but that Moreau was too
preoccupied with some work to come.
“Moreau!” said I. “I know that name.”
“The devil you do!” said he. “What an ass I was to mention it to you! I
might have thought. Anyhow, it will give you an inkling of
our—mysteries. Whiskey?”
“No, thanks; I’m an abstainer.”
“I wish I’d been. But it’s no use locking the door after the steed is
stolen. It was that infernal stuff which led to my coming here,—that,
and a foggy night. I thought myself in luck at the time, when Moreau
offered to get me off. It’s queer—”
“Montgomery,” said I, suddenly, as the outer door closed, “why has your
man pointed ears?”
“Damn!” he said, over his first mouthful of food. He stared at me for a
moment, and then repeated, “Pointed ears?”
“Little points to them,” said I, as calmly as possible, with a catch in
my breath; “and a fine black fur at the edges?”
He helped himself to whiskey and water with great deliberation. “I was
under the impression—that his hair covered his ears.”
“I saw them as he stooped by me to put that coffee you sent to me on
the table. And his eyes shine in the dark.”
By this time Montgomery had recovered from the surprise of my question.
“I always thought,” he said deliberately, with a certain accentuation
of his flavouring of lisp, “that there _was_ something the matter with
his ears, from the way he covered them. What were they like?”
I was persuaded from his manner that this ignorance was a pretence.
Still, I could hardly tell the man that I thought him a liar.
“Pointed,” I said; “rather small and furry,—distinctly furry. But the
whole man is one of the strangest beings I ever set eyes on.”
A sharp, hoarse cry of animal pain came from the enclosure behind us.
Its depth and volume testified to the puma. I saw Montgomery wince.
“Yes?” he said.
“Where did you pick up the creature?”
“San Francisco. He’s an ugly brute, I admit. Half-witted, you know.
Can’t remember where he came from. But I’m used to him, you know. We
both are. How does he strike you?”
“He’s unnatural,” I said. “There’s something about him—don’t think me
fanciful, but it gives me a nasty little sensation, a tightening of my
muscles, when he comes near me. It’s a touch—of the diabolical, in
fact.”
Montgomery had stopped eating while I told him this. “Rum!” he said.
“_I_ can’t see it.” He resumed his meal. “I had no idea of it,” he
said, and masticated. “The crew of the schooner must have felt it the
same. Made a dead set at the poor devil. You saw the captain?”
Suddenly the puma howled again, this time more painfully. Montgomery
swore under his breath. I had half a mind to attack him about the men
on the beach. Then the poor brute within gave vent to a series of
short, sharp cries.
“Your men on the beach,” said I; “what race are they?”
“Excellent fellows, aren’t they?” said he, absentmindedly, knitting his
brows as the animal yelled out sharply.
I said no more. There was another outcry worse than the former. He
looked at me with his dull grey eyes, and then took some more whiskey.
He tried to draw me into a discussion about alcohol, professing to have
saved my life with it. He seemed anxious to lay stress on the fact that
I owed my life to him. I answered him distractedly.
Presently our meal came to an end; the misshapen monster with the
pointed ears cleared the remains away, and Montgomery left me alone in
the room again. All the time he had been in a state of ill-concealed
irritation at the noise of the vivisected puma. He had spoken of his
odd want of nerve, and left me to the obvious application.
I found myself that the cries were singularly irritating, and they grew
in depth and intensity as the afternoon wore on. They were painful at
first, but their constant resurgence at last altogether upset my
balance. I flung aside a crib of Horace I had been reading, and began
to clench my fists, to bite my lips, and to pace the room. Presently I
got to stopping my ears with my fingers.
The emotional appeal of those yells grew upon me steadily, grew at last
to such an exquisite expression of suffering that I could stand it in
that confined room no longer. I stepped out of the door into the
slumberous heat of the late afternoon, and walking past the main
entrance—locked again, I noticed—turned the corner of the wall.
The crying sounded even louder out of doors. It was as if all the pain
in the world had found a voice. Yet had I known such pain was in the
next room, and had it been dumb, I believe—I have thought since—I could
have stood it well enough. It is when suffering finds a voice and sets
our nerves quivering that this pity comes troubling us. But in spite of
the brilliant sunlight and the green fans of the trees waving in the
soothing sea-breeze, the world was a confusion, blurred with drifting
black and red phantasms, until I was out of earshot of the house in the
chequered wall.
IX.
THE THING IN THE FOREST.
I strode through the undergrowth that clothed the ridge behind the
house, scarcely heeding whither I went; passed on through the shadow of
a thick cluster of straight-stemmed trees beyond it, and so presently
found myself some way on the other side of the ridge, and descending
towards a streamlet that ran through a narrow valley. I paused and
listened. The distance I had come, or the intervening masses of
thicket, deadened any sound that might be coming from the enclosure.
The air was still. Then with a rustle a rabbit emerged, and went
scampering up the slope before me. I hesitated, and sat down in the
edge of the shade.
The place was a pleasant one. The rivulet was hidden by the luxuriant
vegetation of the banks save at one point, where I caught a triangular
patch of its glittering water. On the farther side I saw through a
bluish haze a tangle of trees and creepers, and above these again the
luminous blue of the sky. Here and there a splash of white or crimson
marked the blooming of some trailing epiphyte. I let my eyes wander
over this scene for a while, and then began to turn over in my mind
again the strange peculiarities of Montgomery’s man. But it was too hot
to think elaborately, and presently I fell into a tranquil state midway
between dozing and waking.
From this I was aroused, after I know not how long, by a rustling
amidst the greenery on the other side of the stream. For a moment I
could see nothing but the waving summits of the ferns and reeds. Then
suddenly upon the bank of the stream appeared something—at first I
could not distinguish what it was. It bowed its round head to the
water, and began to drink. Then I saw it was a man, going on all-fours
like a beast. He was clothed in bluish cloth, and was of a
copper-coloured hue, with black hair. It seemed that grotesque ugliness
was an invariable character of these islanders. I could hear the suck
of the water at his lips as he drank.
I leant forward to see him better, and a piece of lava, detached by my
hand, went pattering down the slope. He looked up guiltily, and his
eyes met mine. Forthwith he scrambled to his feet, and stood wiping his
clumsy hand across his mouth and regarding me. His legs were scarcely
half the length of his body. So, staring one another out of
countenance, we remained for perhaps the space of a minute. Then,
stopping to look back once or twice, he slunk off among the bushes to
the right of me, and I heard the swish of the fronds grow faint in the
distance and die away. Long after he had disappeared, I remained
sitting up staring in the direction of his retreat. My drowsy
tranquillity had gone.
I was startled by a noise behind me, and turning suddenly saw the
flapping white tail of a rabbit vanishing up the slope. I jumped to my
feet. The apparition of this grotesque, half-bestial creature had
suddenly populated the stillness of the afternoon for me. I looked
around me rather nervously, and regretted that I was unarmed. Then I
thought that the man I had just seen had been clothed in bluish cloth,
had not been naked as a savage would have been; and I tried to persuade
myself from that fact that he was after all probably a peaceful
character, that the dull ferocity of his countenance belied him.
Yet I was greatly disturbed at the apparition. I walked to the left
along the slope, turning my head about and peering this way and that
among the straight stems of the trees. Why should a man go on all-fours
and drink with his lips? Presently I heard an animal wailing again, and
taking it to be the puma, I turned about and walked in a direction
diametrically opposite to the sound. This led me down to the stream,
across which I stepped and pushed my way up through the undergrowth
beyond.
I was startled by a great patch of vivid scarlet on the ground, and
going up to it found it to be a peculiar fungus, branched and
corrugated like a foliaceous lichen, but deliquescing into slime at the
touch; and then in the shadow of some luxuriant ferns I came upon an
unpleasant thing,—the dead body of a rabbit covered with shining flies,
but still warm and with the head torn off. I stopped aghast at the
sight of the scattered blood. Here at least was one visitor to the
island disposed of! There were no traces of other violence about it. It
looked as though it had been suddenly snatched up and killed; and as I
stared at the little furry body came the difficulty of how the thing
had been done. The vague dread that had been in my mind since I had
seen the inhuman face of the man at the stream grew distincter as I
stood there. I began to realise the hardihood of my expedition among
these unknown people. The thicket about me became altered to my
imagination. Every shadow became something more than a shadow,—became
an ambush; every rustle became a threat. Invisible things seemed
watching me. I resolved to go back to the enclosure on the beach. I
suddenly turned away and thrust myself violently, possibly even
frantically, through the bushes, anxious to get a clear space about me
again.
I stopped just in time to prevent myself emerging upon an open space.
It was a kind of glade in the forest, made by a fall; seedlings were
already starting up to struggle for the vacant space; and beyond, the
dense growth of stems and twining vines and splashes of fungus and
flowers closed in again. Before me, squatting together upon the fungoid
ruins of a huge fallen tree and still unaware of my approach, were
three grotesque human figures. One was evidently a female; the other
two were men. They were naked, save for swathings of scarlet cloth
about the middle; and their skins were of a dull pinkish-drab colour,
such as I had seen in no savages before. They had fat, heavy, chinless
faces, retreating foreheads, and a scant bristly hair upon their heads.
I never saw such bestial-looking creatures.
They were talking, or at least one of the men was talking to the other
two, and all three had been too closely interested to heed the rustling
of my approach. They swayed their heads and shoulders from side to
side. The speaker’s words came thick and sloppy, and though I could
hear them distinctly I could not distinguish what he said. He seemed to
me to be reciting some complicated gibberish. Presently his
articulation became shriller, and spreading his hands he rose to his
feet. At that the others began to gibber in unison, also rising to
their feet, spreading their hands and swaying their bodies in rhythm
with their chant. I noticed then the abnormal shortness of their legs,
and their lank, clumsy feet. All three began slowly to circle round,
raising and stamping their feet and waving their arms; a kind of tune
crept into their rhythmic recitation, and a refrain,—“Aloola,” or
“Balloola,” it sounded like. Their eyes began to sparkle, and their
ugly faces to brighten, with an expression of strange pleasure. Saliva
dripped from their lipless mouths.
Suddenly, as I watched their grotesque and unaccountable gestures, I
perceived clearly for the first time what it was that had offended me,
what had given me the two inconsistent and conflicting impressions of
utter strangeness and yet of the strangest familiarity. The three
creatures engaged in this mysterious rite were human in shape, and yet
human beings with the strangest air about them of some familiar animal.
Each of these creatures, despite its human form, its rag of clothing,
and the rough humanity of its bodily form, had woven into it—into its
movements, into the expression of its countenance, into its whole
presence—some now irresistible suggestion of a hog, a swinish taint,
the unmistakable mark of the beast.
I stood overcome by this amazing realisation and then the most horrible
questionings came rushing into my mind. They began leaping in the air,
first one and then the other, whooping and grunting. Then one slipped,
and for a moment was on all-fours,—to recover, indeed, forthwith. But
that transitory gleam of the true animalism of these monsters was
enough.
I turned as noiselessly as possible, and becoming every now and then
rigid with the fear of being discovered, as a branch cracked or a leaf
rustled, I pushed back into the bushes. It was long before I grew
bolder, and dared to move freely. My only idea for the moment was to
get away from these foul beings, and I scarcely noticed that I had
emerged upon a faint pathway amidst the trees. Then suddenly traversing
a little glade, I saw with an unpleasant start two clumsy legs among
the trees, walking with noiseless footsteps parallel with my course,
and perhaps thirty yards away from me. The head and upper part of the
body were hidden by a tangle of creeper. I stopped abruptly, hoping the
creature did not see me. The feet stopped as I did. So nervous was I
that I controlled an impulse to headlong flight with the utmost
difficulty. Then looking hard, I distinguished through the interlacing
network the head and body of the brute I had seen drinking. He moved
his head. There was an emerald flash in his eyes as he glanced at me
from the shadow of the trees, a half-luminous colour that vanished as
he turned his head again. He was motionless for a moment, and then with
a noiseless tread began running through the green confusion. In another
moment he had vanished behind some bushes. I could not see him, but I
felt that he had stopped and was watching me again.
What on earth was he,—man or beast? What did he want with me? I had no
weapon, not even a stick. Flight would be madness. At any rate the
Thing, whatever it was, lacked the courage to attack me. Setting my
teeth hard, I walked straight towards him. I was anxious not to show
the fear that seemed chilling my backbone. I pushed through a tangle of
tall white-flowered bushes, and saw him twenty paces beyond, looking
over his shoulder at me and hesitating. I advanced a step or two,
looking steadfastly into his eyes.
“Who are you?” said I.
He tried to meet my gaze. “No!” he said suddenly, and turning went
bounding away from me through the undergrowth. Then he turned and
stared at me again. His eyes shone brightly out of the dusk under the
trees.
My heart was in my mouth; but I felt my only chance was bluff, and
walked steadily towards him. He turned again, and vanished into the
dusk. Once more I thought I caught the glint of his eyes, and that was
all.
For the first time I realised how the lateness of the hour might affect
me. The sun had set some minutes since, the swift dusk of the tropics
was already fading out of the eastern sky, and a pioneer moth fluttered
silently by my head. Unless I would spend the night among the unknown
dangers of the mysterious forest, I must hasten back to the enclosure.
The thought of a return to that pain-haunted refuge was extremely
disagreeable, but still more so was the idea of being overtaken in the
open by darkness and all that darkness might conceal. I gave one more
look into the blue shadows that had swallowed up this odd creature, and
then retraced my way down the slope towards the stream, going as I
judged in the direction from which I had come.
I walked eagerly, my mind confused with many things, and presently
found myself in a level place among scattered trees. The colourless
clearness that comes after the sunset flush was darkling; the blue sky
above grew momentarily deeper, and the little stars one by one pierced
the attenuated light; the interspaces of the trees, the gaps in the
further vegetation, that had been hazy blue in the daylight, grew black
and mysterious. I pushed on. The colour vanished from the world. The
tree-tops rose against the luminous blue sky in inky silhouette, and
all below that outline melted into one formless blackness. Presently
the trees grew thinner, and the shrubby undergrowth more abundant. Then
there was a desolate space covered with a white sand, and then another
expanse of tangled bushes. I did not remember crossing the sand-opening
before. I began to be tormented by a faint rustling upon my right hand.
I thought at first it was fancy, for whenever I stopped there was
silence, save for the evening breeze in the tree-tops. Then when I
turned to hurry on again there was an echo to my footsteps.
I turned away from the thickets, keeping to the more open ground, and
endeavouring by sudden turns now and then to surprise something in the
act of creeping upon me. I saw nothing, and nevertheless my sense of
another presence grew steadily. I increased my pace, and after some
time came to a slight ridge, crossed it, and turned sharply, regarding
it steadfastly from the further side. It came out black and clear-cut
against the darkling sky; and presently a shapeless lump heaved up
momentarily against the sky-line and vanished again. I felt assured now
that my tawny-faced antagonist was stalking me once more; and coupled
with that was another unpleasant realisation, that I had lost my way.
For a time I hurried on hopelessly perplexed, and pursued by that
stealthy approach. Whatever it was, the Thing either lacked the courage
to attack me, or it was waiting to take me at some disadvantage. I kept
studiously to the open. At times I would turn and listen; and presently
I had half persuaded myself that my pursuer had abandoned the chase, or
was a mere creation of my disordered imagination. Then I heard the
sound of the sea. I quickened my footsteps almost into a run, and
immediately there was a stumble in my rear.
I turned suddenly, and stared at the uncertain trees behind me. One
black shadow seemed to leap into another. I listened, rigid, and heard
nothing but the creep of the blood in my ears. I thought that my nerves
were unstrung, and that my imagination was tricking me, and turned
resolutely towards the sound of the sea again.
In a minute or so the trees grew thinner, and I emerged upon a bare,
low headland running out into the sombre water. The night was calm and
clear, and the reflection of the growing multitude of the stars
shivered in the tranquil heaving of the sea. Some way out, the wash
upon an irregular band of reef shone with a pallid light of its own.
Westward I saw the zodiacal light mingling with the yellow brilliance
of the evening star. The coast fell away from me to the east, and
westward it was hidden by the shoulder of the cape. Then I recalled the
fact that Moreau’s beach lay to the west.
A twig snapped behind me, and there was a rustle. I turned, and stood
facing the dark trees. I could see nothing—or else I could see too
much. Every dark form in the dimness had its ominous quality, its
peculiar suggestion of alert watchfulness. So I stood for perhaps a
minute, and then, with an eye to the trees still, turned westward to
cross the headland; and as I moved, one among the lurking shadows moved
to follow me.
My heart beat quickly. Presently the broad sweep of a bay to the
westward became visible, and I halted again. The noiseless shadow
halted a dozen yards from me. A little point of light shone on the
further bend of the curve, and the grey sweep of the sandy beach lay
faint under the starlight. Perhaps two miles away was that little point
of light. To get to the beach I should have to go through the trees
where the shadows lurked, and down a bushy slope.
I could see the Thing rather more distinctly now. It was no animal, for
it stood erect. At that I opened my mouth to speak, and found a hoarse
phlegm choked my voice. I tried again, and shouted, “Who is there?”
There was no answer. I advanced a step. The Thing did not move, only
gathered itself together. My foot struck a stone. That gave me an idea.
Without taking my eyes off the black form before me, I stooped and
picked up this lump of rock; but at my motion the Thing turned abruptly
as a dog might have done, and slunk obliquely into the further
darkness. Then I recalled a schoolboy expedient against big dogs, and
twisted the rock into my handkerchief, and gave this a turn round my
wrist. I heard a movement further off among the shadows, as if the
Thing was in retreat. Then suddenly my tense excitement gave way; I
broke into a profuse perspiration and fell a-trembling, with my
adversary routed and this weapon in my hand.
It was some time before I could summon resolution to go down through
the trees and bushes upon the flank of the headland to the beach. At
last I did it at a run; and as I emerged from the thicket upon the
sand, I heard some other body come crashing after me. At that I
completely lost my head with fear, and began running along the sand.
Forthwith there came the swift patter of soft feet in pursuit. I gave a
wild cry, and redoubled my pace. Some dim, black things about three or
four times the size of rabbits went running or hopping up from the
beach towards the bushes as I passed.
So long as I live, I shall remember the terror of that chase. I ran
near the water’s edge, and heard every now and then the splash of the
feet that gained upon me. Far away, hopelessly far, was the yellow
light. All the night about us was black and still. Splash, splash, came
the pursuing feet, nearer and nearer. I felt my breath going, for I was
quite out of training; it whooped as I drew it, and I felt a pain like
a knife at my side. I perceived the Thing would come up with me long
before I reached the enclosure, and, desperate and sobbing for my
breath, I wheeled round upon it and struck at it as it came up to
me,—struck with all my strength. The stone came out of the sling of the
handkerchief as I did so. As I turned, the Thing, which had been
running on all-fours, rose to its feet, and the missile fell fair on
its left temple. The skull rang loud, and the animal-man blundered into
me, thrust me back with its hands, and went staggering past me to fall
headlong upon the sand with its face in the water; and there it lay
still.
I could not bring myself to approach that black heap. I left it there,
with the water rippling round it, under the still stars, and giving it
a wide berth pursued my way towards the yellow glow of the house; and
presently, with a positive effect of relief, came the pitiful moaning
of the puma, the sound that had originally driven me out to explore
this mysterious island. At that, though I was faint and horribly
fatigued, I gathered together all my strength, and began running again
towards the light. I thought I heard a voice calling me.
X.
THE CRYING OF THE MAN.
As I drew near the house I saw that the light shone from the open door
of my room; and then I heard coming from out of the darkness at the
side of that orange oblong of light, the voice of Montgomery shouting,
“Prendick!” I continued running. Presently I heard him again. I replied
by a feeble “Hullo!” and in another moment had staggered up to him.
“Where have you been?” said he, holding me at arm’s length, so that the
light from the door fell on my face. “We have both been so busy that we
forgot you until about half an hour ago.” He led me into the room and
sat me down in the deck chair. For awhile I was blinded by the light.
“We did not think you would start to explore this island of ours
without telling us,” he said; and then, “I was afraid—But—what—Hullo!”
My last remaining strength slipped from me, and my head fell forward on
my chest. I think he found a certain satisfaction in giving me brandy.
“For God’s sake,” said I, “fasten that door.”
“You’ve been meeting some of our curiosities, eh?” said he.
He locked the door and turned to me again. He asked me no questions,
but gave me some more brandy and water and pressed me to eat. I was in
a state of collapse. He said something vague about his forgetting to
warn me, and asked me briefly when I left the house and what I had
seen.
I answered him as briefly, in fragmentary sentences. “Tell me what it
all means,” said I, in a state bordering on hysterics.
“It’s nothing so very dreadful,” said he. “But I think you have had
about enough for one day.” The puma suddenly gave a sharp yell of pain.
At that he swore under his breath. “I’m damned,” said he, “if this
place is not as bad as Gower Street, with its cats.”
“Montgomery,” said I, “what was that thing that came after me? Was it a
beast or was it a man?”
“If you don’t sleep to-night,” he said, “you’ll be off your head
to-morrow.”
I stood up in front of him. “What was that thing that came after me?” I
asked.
He looked me squarely in the eyes, and twisted his mouth askew. His
eyes, which had seemed animated a minute before, went dull. “From your
account,” said he, “I’m thinking it was a bogle.”
I felt a gust of intense irritation, which passed as quickly as it
came. I flung myself into the chair again, and pressed my hands on my
forehead. The puma began once more.
Montgomery came round behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Look
here, Prendick,” he said, “I had no business to let you drift out into
this silly island of ours. But it’s not so bad as you feel, man. Your
nerves are worked to rags. Let me give you something that will make you
sleep. _That_—will keep on for hours yet. You must simply get to sleep,
or I won’t answer for it.”
I did not reply. I bowed forward, and covered my face with my hands.
Presently he returned with a small measure containing a dark liquid.
This he gave me. I took it unresistingly, and he helped me into the
hammock.
When I awoke, it was broad day. For a little while I lay flat, staring
at the roof above me. The rafters, I observed, were made out of the
timbers of a ship. Then I turned my head, and saw a meal prepared for
me on the table. I perceived that I was hungry, and prepared to clamber
out of the hammock, which, very politely anticipating my intention,
twisted round and deposited me upon all-fours on the floor.
I got up and sat down before the food. I had a heavy feeling in my
head, and only the vaguest memory at first of the things that had
happened over night. The morning breeze blew very pleasantly through
the unglazed window, and that and the food contributed to the sense of
animal comfort which I experienced. Presently the door behind me—the
door inward towards the yard of the enclosure—opened. I turned and saw
Montgomery’s face.
“All right,” said he. “I’m frightfully busy.” And he shut the door.
Afterwards I discovered that he forgot to re-lock it. Then I recalled
the expression of his face the previous night, and with that the memory
of all I had experienced reconstructed itself before me. Even as that
fear came back to me came a cry from within; but this time it was not
the cry of a puma. I put down the mouthful that hesitated upon my lips,
and listened. Silence, save for the whisper of the morning breeze. I
began to think my ears had deceived me.
After a long pause I resumed my meal, but with my ears still vigilant.
Presently I heard something else, very faint and low. I sat as if
frozen in my attitude. Though it was faint and low, it moved me more
profoundly than all that I had hitherto heard of the abominations
behind the wall. There was no mistake this time in the quality of the
dim, broken sounds; no doubt at all of their source. For it was
groaning, broken by sobs and gasps of anguish. It was no brute this
time; it was a human being in torment!
As I realised this I rose, and in three steps had crossed the room,
seized the handle of the door into the yard, and flung it open before
me.
“Prendick, man! Stop!” cried Montgomery, intervening.
A startled deerhound yelped and snarled. There was blood, I saw, in the
sink,—brown, and some scarlet—and I smelt the peculiar smell of
carbolic acid. Then through an open doorway beyond, in the dim light of
the shadow, I saw something bound painfully upon a framework, scarred,
red, and bandaged; and then blotting this out appeared the face of old
Moreau, white and terrible. In a moment he had gripped me by the
shoulder with a hand that was smeared red, had twisted me off my feet,
and flung me headlong back into my own room. He lifted me as though I
was a little child. I fell at full length upon the floor, and the door
slammed and shut out the passionate intensity of his face. Then I heard
the key turn in the lock, and Montgomery’s voice in expostulation.
“Ruin the work of a lifetime,” I heard Moreau say.
“He does not understand,” said Montgomery. and other things that were
inaudible.
“I can’t spare the time yet,” said Moreau.
The rest I did not hear. I picked myself up and stood trembling, my
mind a chaos of the most horrible misgivings. Could it be possible, I
thought, that such a thing as the vivisection of men was carried on
here? The question shot like lightning across a tumultuous sky; and
suddenly the clouded horror of my mind condensed into a vivid
realisation of my own danger.
XI.
THE HUNTING OF THE MAN.
It came before my mind with an unreasonable hope of escape that the
outer door of my room was still open to me. I was convinced now,
absolutely assured, that Moreau had been vivisecting a human being. All
the time since I had heard his name, I had been trying to link in my
mind in some way the grotesque animalism of the islanders with his
abominations; and now I thought I saw it all. The memory of his work on
the transfusion of blood recurred to me. These creatures I had seen
were the victims of some hideous experiment. These sickening scoundrels
had merely intended to keep me back, to fool me with their display of
confidence, and presently to fall upon me with a fate more horrible
than death,—with torture; and after torture the most hideous
degradation it is possible to conceive,—to send me off a lost soul, a
beast, to the rest of their Comus rout.
I looked round for some weapon. Nothing. Then with an inspiration I
turned over the deck chair, put my foot on the side of it, and tore
away the side rail. It happened that a nail came away with the wood,
and projecting, gave a touch of danger to an otherwise petty weapon. I
heard a step outside, and incontinently flung open the door and found
Montgomery within a yard of it. He meant to lock the outer door! I
raised this nailed stick of mine and cut at his face; but he sprang
back. I hesitated a moment, then turned and fled, round the corner of
the house. “Prendick, man!” I heard his astonished cry, “don’t be a
silly ass, man!”
Another minute, thought I, and he would have had me locked in, and as
ready as a hospital rabbit for my fate. He emerged behind the corner,
for I heard him shout, “Prendick!” Then he began to run after me,
shouting things as he ran. This time running blindly, I went
northeastward in a direction at right angles to my previous expedition.
Once, as I went running headlong up the beach, I glanced over my
shoulder and saw his attendant with him. I ran furiously up the slope,
over it, then turning eastward along a rocky valley fringed on either
side with jungle I ran for perhaps a mile altogether, my chest
straining, my heart beating in my ears; and then hearing nothing of
Montgomery or his man, and feeling upon the verge of exhaustion, I
doubled sharply back towards the beach as I judged, and lay down in the
shelter of a canebrake. There I remained for a long time, too fearful
to move, and indeed too fearful even to plan a course of action. The
wild scene about me lay sleeping silently under the sun, and the only
sound near me was the thin hum of some small gnats that had discovered
me. Presently I became aware of a drowsy breathing sound, the soughing
of the sea upon the beach.
After about an hour I heard Montgomery shouting my name, far away to
the north. That set me thinking of my plan of action. As I interpreted
it then, this island was inhabited only by these two vivisectors and
their animalised victims. Some of these no doubt they could press into
their service against me if need arose. I knew both Moreau and
Montgomery carried revolvers; and, save for a feeble bar of deal spiked
with a small nail, the merest mockery of a mace, I was unarmed.
So I lay still there, until I began to think of food and drink; and at
that thought the real hopelessness of my position came home to me. I
knew no way of getting anything to eat. I was too ignorant of botany to
discover any resort of root or fruit that might lie about me; I had no
means of trapping the few rabbits upon the island. It grew blanker the
more I turned the prospect over. At last in the desperation of my
position, my mind turned to the animal men I had encountered. I tried
to find some hope in what I remembered of them. In turn I recalled each
one I had seen, and tried to draw some augury of assistance from my
memory.
Then suddenly I heard a staghound bay, and at that realised a new
danger. I took little time to think, or they would have caught me then,
but snatching up my nailed stick, rushed headlong from my hiding-place
towards the sound of the sea. I remember a growth of thorny plants,
with spines that stabbed like pen-knives. I emerged bleeding and with
torn clothes upon the lip of a long creek opening northward. I went
straight into the water without a minute’s hesitation, wading up the
creek, and presently finding myself kneedeep in a little stream. I
scrambled out at last on the westward bank, and with my heart beating
loudly in my ears, crept into a tangle of ferns to await the issue. I
heard the dog (there was only one) draw nearer, and yelp when it came
to the thorns. Then I heard no more, and presently began to think I had
escaped.
The minutes passed; the silence lengthened out, and at last after an
hour of security my courage began to return to me. By this time I was
no longer very much terrified or very miserable. I had, as it were,
passed the limit of terror and despair. I felt now that my life was
practically lost, and that persuasion made me capable of daring
anything. I had even a certain wish to encounter Moreau face to face;
and as I had waded into the water, I remembered that if I were too hard
pressed at least one path of escape from torment still lay open to
me,—they could not very well prevent my drowning myself. I had half a
mind to drown myself then; but an odd wish to see the whole adventure
out, a queer, impersonal, spectacular interest in myself, restrained
me. I stretched my limbs, sore and painful from the pricks of the spiny
plants, and stared around me at the trees; and, so suddenly that it
seemed to jump out of the green tracery about it, my eyes lit upon a
black face watching me. I saw that it was the simian creature who had
met the launch upon the beach. He was clinging to the oblique stem of a
palm-tree. I gripped my stick, and stood up facing him. He began
chattering. “You, you, you,” was all I could distinguish at first.
Suddenly he dropped from the tree, and in another moment was holding
the fronds apart and staring curiously at me.
I did not feel the same repugnance towards this creature which I had
experienced in my encounters with the other Beast Men. “You,” he said,
“in the boat.” He was a man, then,—at least as much of a man as
Montgomery’s attendant,—for he could talk.
“Yes,” I said, “I came in the boat. From the ship.”
“Oh!” he said, and his bright, restless eyes travelled over me, to my
hands, to the stick I carried, to my feet, to the tattered places in my
coat, and the cuts and scratches I had received from the thorns. He
seemed puzzled at something. His eyes came back to my hands. He held
his own hand out and counted his digits slowly, “One, two, three, four,
five—eigh?”
I did not grasp his meaning then; afterwards I was to find that a great
proportion of these Beast People had malformed hands, lacking sometimes
even three digits. But guessing this was in some way a greeting, I did
the same thing by way of reply. He grinned with immense satisfaction.
Then his swift roving glance went round again; he made a swift
movement—and vanished. The fern fronds he had stood between came
swishing together.
I pushed out of the brake after him, and was astonished to find him
swinging cheerfully by one lank arm from a rope of creepers that looped
down from the foliage overhead. His back was to me.
“Hullo!” said I.
He came down with a twisting jump, and stood facing me.
“I say,” said I, “where can I get something to eat?”
“Eat!” he said. “Eat Man’s food, now.” And his eye went back to the
swing of ropes. “At the huts.”
“But where are the huts?”
“Oh!”
“I’m new, you know.”
At that he swung round, and set off at a quick walk. All his motions
were curiously rapid. “Come along,” said he.
I went with him to see the adventure out. I guessed the huts were some
rough shelter where he and some more of these Beast People lived. I
might perhaps find them friendly, find some handle in their minds to
take hold of. I did not know how far they had forgotten their human
heritage.
My ape-like companion trotted along by my side, with his hands hanging
down and his jaw thrust forward. I wondered what memory he might have
in him. “How long have you been on this island?” said I.
“How long?” he asked; and after having the question repeated, he held
up three fingers.
The creature was little better than an idiot. I tried to make out what
he meant by that, and it seems I bored him. After another question or
two he suddenly left my side and went leaping at some fruit that hung
from a tree. He pulled down a handful of prickly husks and went on
eating the contents. I noted this with satisfaction, for here at least
was a hint for feeding. I tried him with some other questions, but his
chattering, prompt responses were as often as not quite at cross
purposes with my question. Some few were appropriate, others quite
parrot-like.
I was so intent upon these peculiarities that I scarcely noticed the
path we followed. Presently we came to trees, all charred and brown,
and so to a bare place covered with a yellow-white incrustation, across
which a drifting smoke, pungent in whiffs to nose and eyes, went
drifting. On our right, over a shoulder of bare rock, I saw the level
blue of the sea. The path coiled down abruptly into a narrow ravine
between two tumbled and knotty masses of blackish scoriae. Into this we
plunged.
It was extremely dark, this passage, after the blinding sunlight
reflected from the sulphurous ground. Its walls grew steep, and
approached each other. Blotches of green and crimson drifted across my
eyes. My conductor stopped suddenly. “Home!” said he, and I stood in a
floor of a chasm that was at first absolutely dark to me. I heard some
strange noises, and thrust the knuckles of my left hand into my eyes. I
became aware of a disagreeable odor, like that of a monkey’s cage
ill-cleaned. Beyond, the rock opened again upon a gradual slope of
sunlit greenery, and on either hand the light smote down through narrow
ways into the central gloom.
XII.
THE SAYERS OF THE LAW.
Then something cold touched my hand. I started violently, and saw close
to me a dim pinkish thing, looking more like a flayed child than
anything else in the world. The creature had exactly the mild but
repulsive features of a sloth, the same low forehead and slow gestures.
As the first shock of the change of light passed, I saw about me more
distinctly. The little sloth-like creature was standing and staring at
me. My conductor had vanished. The place was a narrow passage between
high walls of lava, a crack in the knotted rock, and on either side
interwoven heaps of sea-mat, palm-fans, and reeds leaning against the
rock formed rough and impenetrably dark dens. The winding way up the
ravine between these was scarcely three yards wide, and was disfigured
by lumps of decaying fruit-pulp and other refuse, which accounted for
the disagreeable stench of the place.
The little pink sloth-creature was still blinking at me when my Ape-man
reappeared at the aperture of the nearest of these dens, and beckoned
me in. As he did so a slouching monster wriggled out of one of the
places, further up this strange street, and stood up in featureless
silhouette against the bright green beyond, staring at me. I hesitated,
having half a mind to bolt the way I had come; and then, determined to
go through with the adventure, I gripped my nailed stick about the
middle and crawled into the little evil-smelling lean-to after my
conductor.
It was a semi-circular space, shaped like the half of a bee-hive; and
against the rocky wall that formed the inner side of it was a pile of
variegated fruits, cocoa-nuts among others. Some rough vessels of lava
and wood stood about the floor, and one on a rough stool. There was no
fire. In the darkest corner of the hut sat a shapeless mass of darkness
that grunted “Hey!” as I came in, and my Ape-man stood in the dim light
of the doorway and held out a split cocoa-nut to me as I crawled into
the other corner and squatted down. I took it, and began gnawing it, as
serenely as possible, in spite of a certain trepidation and the nearly
intolerable closeness of the den. The little pink sloth-creature stood
in the aperture of the hut, and something else with a drab face and
bright eyes came staring over its shoulder.
“Hey!” came out of the lump of mystery opposite. “It is a man.”
“It is a man,” gabbled my conductor, “a man, a man, a five-man, like
me.”
“Shut up!” said the voice from the dark, and grunted. I gnawed my
cocoa-nut amid an impressive stillness.