[Illustration: THE PAGAN’S PROGRESS]
[Illustration: FLED HOWLING INTO THE NORTH
Page 159]
THE
PAGAN’S PROGRESS
By
GOUVERNEUR MORRIS
Author of
“Tom Beauling” and “Aladdin O’Brien”
Illustrated by JOHN RAE
[Illustration]
New York
A. S. BARNES & COMPANY
1904
COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY
A. S. BARNES & COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
[Illustration]
_SEPTEMBER_
DEDICATION
To M. B. H. and F. B. H.
Under a wide roof, in the midst of flowers, trees, sunshine, horses,
dogs, meat, wine, wit, friendly faces and all good things, whither my
affection had brought me at the invitation of yours, this violent story
of the Pagan born to darkness, and progressing to the first glimmer of
light, was written. But you must do me the further kindness to believe
that it is with no thought of squaring accounts that I dedicate it to
you. Except in the valvy heart, there is no squaring of accounts among
friends; except in that lively organ, there is no bringing of the credits
and debits of intercourse to an honest balance and a delicate.
It is my pleasure to owe you far more than I can pay ever. In dedicating
this story, it may be that I am adding grossly to that debt. If so,
I ask your most lenient consideration. If not, I still ask your
consideration—not for the dedication of my Pagan, but for the affection
with which he is dedicated. For I believe this: that without affection,
the world, Pagan and Christian, would become like unto the tottering
moon, “staple in desolation.”
G. M.
[Illustration]
PREFACE
Those to whom he had been charitable brought the body of the great hunter
to his cave, and laid it within. But first they carried out the clubs and
the nets and the fish spears and the war spears, and all that was of use,
to be divided among them, for the great hunter would not need such things
any more.
Dissolution—decay—dust—nothing. It was thus that they conceived the end
of man.
No brutish face in that hairy circle looked upward; no eagle eye saw
aught but the cadavre, the cave, the weapons and the surrounding forest.
The great hunter was dead; the keen eyes closed, the sensitive ears deaf,
the nostrils still.
Bring down the roof of the cave and cover him, close up the mouth of the
cave and forget him. He is dead and done for. Give his weapons to those
that can use them. The great hands are inert; the mighty thighs have
lost their springs. He will run no more on any trail. His hunting is
over. He has made his last journey to a dark place and a long sleep.
For you, tribesman, a short span wherein to shout the war cry and swing
the club, a little sunlight to see by, a few springs of desire, a few
rains, a few snows. The longer the better, for after,—all will be at an
end. Like the great hunter, insensate and unaware, you will lie in the
dark for the ages of ages.
Wail, tribeswomen and beat your breasts! You shall bring life into the
world, but you shall not take life away.
The sleep of life is a good sleep, for man awakens therefrom happy and
refreshed. But from the sleep of death there is no awakening. Man born to
light, dies into darkness.
Thus it was in the forest ten million years ago.
II
There lies to-day, in the midst of a great house, the body of a man
awaiting the last honors which can be rendered to it.
A week ago the doings of that man stirred two countries; two countries,
to-day, are shaken by the news of his death. The hundreds to whom he was
good and generous, mourn it; those who bore him ill-will are shocked by
it; the world regrets it. For all join in remembering that the man,
human and frail as other men, was still broad, brilliant and fabulous, a
choice and master spirit of his age.
There he lies, the great man, in the midst of his earthly treasures.
Presently he will be laid in the narrow house, and they will remain
behind. Nothing of the man shall go with him out of the world but that
which he brought into the world with him. And tho’ it may be that there
is none so presumptuous as to proclaim where and how the man shall
arise, yet there are few indeed so obstinate as to believe that he has
perished utterly.
For we know that all things move onward and upward. The cell became the
ape, the ape became the man, and the man shall become—what? That we must
not know clearly. But we must know that it will be something above man,
and beyond.
Who is so beholden to life as not to look upon the idea of death with
comfort? Not to-morrow, but in the course of years, services and honors?
By all means, when the trumpet calls, let us pass comfortably upward into
death. For this death is no descent into darkness, but rather a progress
of time and soul; and the body of the barren woman shall be fertile in
death, and the soul of the wicked man shall be cleansed. And we that were
born to darkness shall die into the light.
Thus it is to-day after the schooling of the ages.
III
Read then, how Sunrise, the pagan, was born in the dark, and having
suffered at the hands of death, came to see the light glimmering beyond,
and the life.
G. M.
CONTENTS
[Illustration]
Chapter Page
I One Eye 1
II No Man 10
III The Blasted Tree and the Blue Jay 26
IV No Man and No Foot 40
V The Moose 51
VI She Wolf 66
VII The Wooing of She Wolf 75
VIII The Faint Heart of No Man 90
IX The Birth of Sunrise 106
X The Death of No Man 111
XI The Passing of Strong Hand 121
XII Maku and She Wolf 124
XIII The Weakness of Maku 134
XIV Sunrise and Dawn 139
XV Fire! 150
XVI The Flight of the Tribe 158
XVII Heat and Cold 164
XVIII The Death of One Eye 181
XIX The Courting of Dawn 197
XX Sunrise Digs a Cave 207
XXI The Trail of Two 218
XXII On the Trail of One 230
XXIII The Long Trail 244
[Illustration]
ILLUSTRATIONS
Fled Howling into the North Frontispiece
He Scratched Pictures on Bone Page 12
Unconquered—Bleeding to Death ” 59
“Not Till I am Dead” ” 122
The Knitter of Nets ” 185
She Sobbed in His Arms ” 227
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I
ONE EYE
Old One Eye sat in the mouth of his cave and blinked. Though he blinked
both eyes, he could see only out of one of them. Years ago, when One Eye
was called Swift Foot, and could run down a deer in the open, the other
had been pierced by a thorn and destroyed.
It was wonderful when you came to look at him, to think that old One
Eye ever could have been a swift runner, for his legs were no longer nor
bigger than his arms. His body was long, heavily paunched and massive;
his head hung forward on his hairy chest and he sat hunched over like an
ape.
In truth, One Eye looked very much like an ape. His forehead was flat
and retreating, his jaw undershot and powerful, and he was covered with
matted hair pretty much all over.
His one eye at times was beady black with intelligence, and the next
minute it would waver and become plaintive and unreasoning like the eye
of a frightened little child. His manner of life was like his eye.
At times he would behave after a cunningly-thought-out schedule, and the
next minute he would be doing something that was purely instinctive.
As he sat in the mouth of his cave blinking, and scratching his stomach
with a blunt flint, he was revolving a mighty question. One Eye had a
daughter.
According to our notions she was very ugly, but the men of the tribe to
which One Eye belonged were after her. It was the mating season and she
was of suitable age to pair. She looked like her father, but was not so
hairy. Her mother had been eaten by wolves when Maku (for that was the
girl’s name) was only a few years old. And so she had been brought up by
her father, who was very fond of her. And now that it was time for them
to part, he naturally wanted a considerable compensation for the loss of
his daughter. She made him very comfortable.
[Illustration]
Strong Hand had offered three very finely balanced clubs. You had only
to swing one to be confident of getting your man. And One Eye wanted the
clubs very dearly. He loved to fight—and get the best of it. But then,
Fish Catch, the renowned maker of nets, had offered him one of his best
for the girl. And One Eye, who could not make nets himself, knew that
his own private net was so rotted as to be useless, and that in order to
live comfortably it was necessary to have a net—for a good net meant good
food. So he was sadly torn in his mind.
There had been other offers for the girl, but none so glittering. And One
Eye had promised on this very afternoon to decide between Strong Hand and
Fish Catch.
When they came up, stooping, hairy, bent of knee, and stealthy, the
one bearing the net, the other the clubs, One Eye had not come to any
decision.
They sat down before him, without salutation, and for some moments
blinked and dug at the earth with their toes. Strong Hand was the first
to speak.
“With any of these clubs—” he began.
But Fish Catch broke in.
“Clubs!” and grunted. “What are the use of weapons to one that is
without means of procuring food. It is well known that One Eye is too old
to hunt with success. If he would live he must fish. Now this net—see it
is of the best fibre, and knotted as I alone can knot. It will last you
twenty years—maybe twenty-five—”
“One Eye,” said Strong Hand, “is first of all a fighter. If he gives me
the girl I will see to it that he never wants for food.”
“That is the best talk yet,” said One Eye.
“Then you give her to me?” said Strong Hand.
“Slowly—slowly,” said One Eye. “I must have time to consider. But whom
have we here?”
[Illustration]