CHAPTER IV

THE SIGHT OF HUMAN BEINGS

The sight of human beings, thus unexpectedly found, filled us with

strange feelings--feelings which I cannot explain. The country was

still iron-bound and dark and forbidding, and the stream ran on in a

strong current, deep, black as ink, and resistless as fate; the sky

behind was lighted up by the volcanic glare which still shone from

afar; and in front the view was bounded by the icy heights of a

mountain chain. Here was, indeed, a strange country for a human

habitation; and strange, indeed, were the human beings whom we saw.

"Shall we land?" said Agnew.

"Oh no," said I. "Don't be hasty. The elements are sometimes kinder

than men, and I feel safer here, even in this river of death, than

ashore with such creatures as those."

Agnew made no reply. We watched the figures on the shore. We saw them

coming down, staring and gesticulating. We drew on nearer to them till

we were able to see them better. A nearer view did not improve them.

They were human beings, certainly, but of such an appalling aspect

that they could only be likened to animated mummies. They were small,

thin, shrivelled, black, with long matted hair and hideous faces. They

all had long spears, and wore about the waist short skirts that seemed

to be made of the skin of some sea-fowl.

We could not imagine how these creatures lived, or where. There were

no signs of vegetation of any kind--not a tree or a shrub. There were

no animals; but there were great flocks of birds, some of which seemed

different from anything that we had ever seen before. The long spears

which the natives carried might possibly be used for catching these,

or for fishing purposes. This thought made them seem less formidable,

since they would thus be instruments of food rather than weapons of

war. Meanwhile we drifted on as before, and the natives watched us,

running along the shore abreast of us, so as to keep up with the boat.

There seemed over a hundred of them. We could see no signs of any

habitations--no huts, however humble; but we concluded that their

abodes were farther inland. As for the natives themselves, the longer

we looked at them the more abhorrent they grew. Even the wretched

aborigines of Van Dieman's Land, who have been classed lowest in the

scale of humanity, were pleasing and congenial when compared with

these, and the land looked worse than Tierra del Fuego. It looked like

a land of iron, and its inhabitants like fiends.

Agnew again proposed to land, but I refused.

"No," I said; "I'd rather starve for a week, and live on hope. Let us

drift on. If we go on we may have hope if we choose, but if we land

here we shall lose even that. Can we hope for anything from such

things as these? Even if they prove friendly, can we live among them?

To stay here is worse than death; our only hope is to go on."

Agnew made no reply, and we drifted on for two hours, still followed

by the natives. They made no hostile demonstrations. They merely

watched us, apparently from motives of curiosity. All this time we

were drawing steadily nearer to the line of lofty mountains, which

with their icy crests rose before us like an inaccessible and

impassable barrier, apparently closing up all farther progress; nor

was there any indication of any pass or any opening, however narrow,

through which the great stream might run. Nothing was there but one

unbroken wall of iron cliffs and icy summits. At last we saw that the

sloping shores grew steeper, until, about a mile or two before us,

they changed to towering cliffs that rose up on each side for about a

thousand feet above the water; here the stream ran, and became lost to

view as completely as though swallowed up by the earth.

"We can go no farther," said Agnew. "See--this stream seems to make a

plunge there into the mountains. There must be some deep canyon there

with cataracts. To go on is certain death. We must stop here, if only

to deliberate. Say, shall we risk it among these natives? After all,

there is not, perhaps, any danger among them. They are little

creatures and seem harmless. They are certainly not very good-looking;

but then, you know, appearances often deceive, and the devil's not so

black as he's painted. What do you say?"

"I suppose we can do nothing else," said I.

In fact, I could see that we had reached a crisis in our fate. To go

on seemed certain death. To stop was our only alternative; and as we

were armed we should not be altogether at the mercy of these

creatures. Having made this decision we acted upon it at once, for in

such a current there was no time for delay; and so, seizing the oars,

we soon brought the boat ashore.

As we approached, the crowd of natives stood awaiting us, and looked

more repulsive than ever. We could see the emaciation of their bony

frames; their toes and fingers were like birds' claws; their eyes were

small and dull and weak, and sunken in cavernous hollows, from which

they looked at us like corpses--a horrible sight. They stood quietly,

however, and without any hostile demonstration, holding their spears

carelessly resting upon the ground.

"I don't like the looks of them," said I. "I think I had better fire a

gun."

"Why?" cried Agnew. "For Heaven's sake, man, don't hurt any of them!"

"Oh no," said I; "I only mean to inspire a little wholesome respect."

Saying this I fired in the air. The report rang out with long echoes,

and as the smoke swept away it showed us all the natives on the

ground. They had seated themselves with their hands crossed on their

laps, and there they sat looking at us as before, but with no

manifestation of fear or even surprise. I had expected to see them

run, but there was nothing of the kind. This puzzled us. Still, there

was no time now for any further hesitation. The current was sweeping

us toward the chasm between the cliffs, and we had to land without

delay. This we did, and as I had another barrel still loaded and a

pistol, I felt that with these arms and those of Agnew we should be

able to defend ourselves. It was in this state of mind that we landed,

and secured the boat by means of the grappling-iron.

The natives now all crowded around us, making many strange gestures,

which we did not understand. Some of them bowed low, others prostrated

themselves; on the whole these seemed like marks of respect, and it

occurred to me that they regarded us as superior beings of some sort.

It was evident that there was nothing like hostility in their minds.

At the same time, the closer survey which I now made of them filled me

with renewed horror; their meagre frames, small, watery, lack-lustre

eyes, hollow, cavernous sockets, sunken cheeks, protruding teeth,

claw-like fingers, and withered skins, all made them look more than

ever like animated mummies, and I shrank from them involuntarily, as

one shrinks from contact with a corpse.

Agnew, however, was very different, and it was evident that he felt no

repugnance whatever. He bowed and smiled at them, and shook hands with

half a dozen of them in succession. The hand-shaking was a new thing

to them, but they accepted it in a proper spirit, and renewed their

bows and prostrations. After this they all offered us their lances.

This certainly seemed like an act of peace and good-will. I shook my

head and declined to touch them; but Agnew accepted one of them, and

offered his rifle in return. The one to whom he offered it refused to

take it. He seemed immensely gratified because Agnew had taken his

lance, and the others seemed disappointed at his refusal to take

theirs. But I felt my heart quake as I saw him offer his rifle, and

still more when he offered it to one or two others, and only regained

my composure as I perceived that his offer was refused by all.

They now made motions to us to follow, and we all set forth together.

"My dear More," said Agnew, cheerily, "they're not a bad lot. They

mean well. They can't help their looks. You're too suspicious and

reserved. Let's make friends with them, and get them to help us. Do as

I do."

I tried to, but found it impossible, for my repugnance was immovable.

It was like the horror which one feels toward rats, cockroaches,

earwigs, or serpents. It was something that defied reason. These

creatures seemed like human vermin.

We marched inland for about half a mile, crossed a ridge, and came to

a valley, or rather a kind of hollow, at the other side of which we

found a cave with a smouldering fire in front. The fire was made of

coal, which must exist here somewhere. It was highly bituminous, and

burned with a great blaze.

The day was now drawing to a close; far away I could see the lurid

glow of the volcanoes, which grew brighter as the day declined: above,

the skies twinkled with innumerable stars, and the air was filled with

the moan of rushing waters.

We entered the cave. As we did so the natives heaped coal upon the

fire, and the flames arose, lighting up the interior. We found here a

number of women and children, who looked at us without either fear or

curiosity. The children looked like little dwarfs; the women were

hags, hideous beyond description. One old woman in particular, who

seemed to be in authority, was actually terrible in her awful and

repulsive ugliness. A nightmare dream never furnished forth a more

frightful object. This nightmare hag prostrated herself before each of

us with such an air of self-immolation that she looked as though she

wished us to kill her at once. The rough cave, the red light of the

fire, all made the scene more awful; and a wild thought came to me

that we had actually reached, while yet living, the infernal world,

and that this was the abode of devils. Yet their actions, it must be

confessed, were far from devilish. Everyone seemed eager to serve us.

Some spread out couches formed of the skins of birds for us to sit on;

others attended to the fire; others offered us gifts of large and

beautiful feathers, together with numerous trinkets of rare and

curious workmanship. This kind attention on their part was a great

puzzle to me, and I could not help suspecting that beneath all this

there must be some sinister design. Resolving to be prepared for the

worst, I quietly reloaded the empty barrel of my rifle and watched

with the utmost vigilance. As for Agnew, he took it all in the most

unsuspicious manner. He made signs to them, shook hands with them,

accepted their gifts, and even tried to do the agreeable to the

formidable hags and the child-fiends around him. He soon attracted the

chief attention, and while all looked admiringly upon him, I was left

to languish in comparative neglect.

At length a savory odor came through the cave, and a repast was spread

before us. It consisted of some large fowl that looked like a goose,

but was twice as large as the largest turkey that I had ever seen. The

taste was like that of a wild-goose, but rather fishy. Still to us it

seemed delicious, for our prolonged diet of raw seal had made us ready

to welcome any other food whatever; and this fowl, whatever it was,

would not have been unwelcome to any hungry man. It was evident that

these people lived on the flesh of birds of various sorts. All around

us we saw the skins of birds dried with the feathers on, and used for

clothing, for mats, and for ornaments.

The repast being finished, we both felt greatly strengthened and

refreshed. Agnew continued to cultivate his new acquaintances, and

seeing me holding back, he said,

"More, old fellow, these good people give me to understand that there

is another place better than this, and want me to go with them. Will

you go?"

At this a great fear seized me.

"Don't go!" I cried--"don't go! We are close by the boat here, and if

anything happens we can easily get to it."

Agnew laughed in my face.

"Why, you don't mean to tell me," said he, "that you are still

suspicious, and after that dinner? Why, man, if they wanted to harm

us, would they feast us in this style? Nonsense, man! Drop your

suspicions and come along."

I shook my head obstinately.

"Well," said he, "if I thought there was anything in your suspicions I

would stay by you; but I'm confident they mean nothing but kindness,

so I'm going off to see the place."

"You'll be back again?" said I.

"Oh yes," said he, "of course I'll come back, and sleep here."

With these words he left, and nearly all the people accompanied him. I

was left behind with the women and children and about a dozen men.

These men busied themselves with some work over bird-skins; the women

were occupied with some other work over feathers. No one took any

notice of me. There did not seem to be any restraint upon me, nor was

I watched in any way. Once the nightmare hag came and offered me a

small roasted fowl, about the size of a woodcock. I declined it, but

at the same time this delicate attention certainly surprised me.

I was now beginning to struggle with some success against my feelings

of abhorrence, when suddenly I caught sight of something which chased

away every other thought, and made my blood turn cold in my veins. It

was something outside. At the mouth of the cave--by the fire which was

still blazing bright, and lighting up the scene--I saw four men who

had just come to the cave: they were carrying something which I at

first supposed to be a sick or wounded companion. On reaching the fire

they put it down, and I saw, with a thrill of dismay, that their

burden was neither sick nor wounded, but dead, for the corpse lay

rigid as they had placed it. Then I saw the nightmare hag approach it

with a knife. An awful thought came to me--the crowning horror! The

thought soon proved to be but too well founded. The nightmare hag

began to cut, and in an instant had detached the arm of the corpse,

which she thrust among the coals in the very place where lately she

had cooked the fowl. Then she went back for more.

For a moment my brain reeled, and I gasped for breath. Then I rose and

staggered out, I know not how. No one tried to stop me, nor did anyone

follow me; and, for my part, I was ready to blow out the brains of the

first who dared to approach me. In this way I reached the open air,

and passed by the hag and the four men as they were busy at their

awful work. But at this point I was observed and followed. A number of

men and women came after me, jabbering their uncouth language and

gesticulating. I warned them off, angrily. They persisted, and though

none of them were armed, yet I saw that they were unwilling to have me

leave the cave, and I supposed that they would try to prevent me by

force.

The absence of Agnew made my position a difficult one. Had it not been

for this I would have burst through them and fled to the boat; but as

long as he was away I felt bound to wait; and though I longed to fly,

I could not for his sake. The boat seemed to be a haven of rest. I

longed to be in her once more, and drift away, even if it should be to

my death. Nature was here less terrible than man; and it seemed better

to drown in the waters, to perish amid rocks and whirlpools, than to

linger here amid such horrors as these. These people were not like

human beings. The vilest and lowest savages that I had ever seen were

not so odious as these. A herd of monkeys would be far more congenial,

a flock of wolves less abhorrent. They had the caricature of the human

form; they were the lowest of humanity; their speech was a mockery of

language; their faces devilish, their kindness a cunning pretence; and

most hideous of all was the nightmare hag that prepared the cannibal

repast.

I could not begin hostilities, for I had to wait for Agnew; so I stood

and looked, and then walked away for a little distance. They followed

me closely, with eager words and gesticulations, though as yet no one

touched me or threatened me. Their tone seemed rather one of

persuasion. After a few paces I stood still, with all of them around

me. The horrible repast showed plainly all that was in store for us.

They received us kindly and fed us well only to devote us to the most

abhorrent of deaths. Agnew, in his mad confidence, was only insuring

his own doom. He was putting himself completely in the power of

devils, who were incapable of pity and strangers to humanity. To make

friends with such fiends was impossible, and I felt sure that our only

plan was to rule by terror--to seize, to slay, to conquer. But still I

had to wait for him, and did not dare to resort to violence while he

was absent; so I waited, while the savages gathered round me,

contenting themselves with guarding me, and neither touching me nor

threatening me. And all this time the hag went on, intent on her

preparation of the horrible repast.

While standing there looking, listening, waiting for Agnew, I noticed

many things. Far away the volcanoes blazed, and the northern sky was

red with a lurid light. There, too, higher up, the moon was shining

overhead, the sky was gleaming with stars; and all over the heavens

there shone the lustre of the aurora australis, brighter than any I

had ever seen--surpassing the moon and illuminating all. It lighted up

the haggard faces of the devils around me, and it again seemed to me

as though I had died and gone to the land of woe--an iron land, a land

of despair, with lurid fires all aglow and faces of fear.

Suddenly, there burst upon my ears the report of a gun, which sounded

like a thunder-peal, and echoed in long reverberations. At once I

understood it. My fears had proved true. These savages had enticed

Agnew away to destroy him. In an instant I burst through the crowd

around me, and ran wildly in the direction of that sound, calling his

name, as I ran, at the top of my voice.

I heard a loud cry; then another report. I hurried on, shouting his

name in a kind of frenzy. The strange courage of these savages had

already impressed me deeply. They did not fear our guns. They were all

attacking him, and he was alone, fighting for his life.

Then there was another report; it was his pistol. I still ran on, and

still shouted to him.

At last I received an answer. He had perhaps heard me, and was

answering, or, at any rate, he was warning me.

"More," he cried, "fly, fly, fly to the boat! Save yourself!"

"Where are you?" I cried, as I still rushed on.

"Fly, More, fly! Save yourself! You can't save me. I'm lost. Fly for

your life!"

Judging from his cries, he did not seem far away. I hurried on. I

could see nothing of him. All the time the savages followed me. None

were armed; but it seemed to me that they were preparing to fling

themselves upon me and overpower me with their numbers. They would

capture me alive, I thought, bind me, and carry me back, reserving me

for a future time!

I turned and waved them back. They took no notice of my gesture. Then

I ran on once more. They followed. They could not run so fast as I

did, and so I gained on them rapidly, still shouting to Agnew. But

there was no response. I ran backward and forward, crossing and

recrossing, doubling and turning, pursued all the time by the savages.

At last, in rage and despair, I fired upon them, and one of them fell.

But, to my dismay, the others did not seem to care one whit; they did

not stop for one moment, but pursued as before.

My situation was now plain in all its truth. They had enticed Agnew

away; they had attacked him. He had fought, and had been overpowered.

He had tried to give me warning. His last words had been for me to

fly--to fly: yes, for he well knew that it was better far for me to go

to death through the raging torrent than to meet the fate which had

fallen upon himself. For him there was now no more hope. That he was

lost was plain. If he were still alive he would call to me; but his

voice had been silenced for some time. All was over, and that noble

heart that had withstood so bravely and cheerily the rigors of the

storm, and the horrors of our desperate voyage, had been stilled in

death by the vilest of miscreants.

I paused for a moment. Even though Agnew was dead, I could not bear to

leave him, but felt as though I ought to share his fate. The savages

came nearer. At their approach I hesitated no longer. That fate was

too terrible: I must fly.

But before I fled I turned in fury to wreak vengeance upon them for

their crimes. Full of rage and despair, I discharged my remaining

rifle-barrel into the midst of the crowd. Then I fled toward the boat.

On the way I had a frightful thought that she might have been sent

adrift; but, on approaching the place, I found her there just as I had

left her. The savages, with their usual fearlessness, still pursued.

For a moment I stood on the shore, with the grapple in my hand and the

boat close by, and as they came near I discharged my pistol into the

midst of them. Then I sprang into the boat; the swift current bore me

away, and in a few minutes the crowd of pursuing demons disappeared

from view.

A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder · 第 4 / 31 章