en-de  The Island of Doctor Moreau/Chapter 18 Medium
The Island of Doctor Moreau von H.G.Wells

Kapitel 18


Das Auffinden Moreaus


Als ich Montgomery die dritte Dosis Brandy schlucken sah, nahm ich es auf mich einzugreifen. Er war schon mehr als halb berauscht. Ich sagte ihm, dass Moreau nun etwas Schlimmes zugestoßen sein muss, sonst wäre er schon zurück, und es sich für uns geziemte herauszufinden, was für eine Katastrophe das war. Montgomery erhob einige schwache Einwände und stimmte schließlich zu. Wir aßen etwas und dann gingen wir alle drei los.

Es ist möglicherweise der Spannung in meinem Gemüt zu dieser Zeit geschuldet, aber sogar jetzt ist dieser Aufbruch in die heiße Stille des tropischen Nachmittags ein einzigartiger, wilder Eindruck. M'ling ging voran, seine Schulter gebeugt, sein eigenartiger schwarzer Kopf bewegte sich mit schnellen Rucken als er zuerst auf die eine Seite des Weges und dann auf die andere schaute. Er war unbewaffnet; seine Axt hatte er fallen lassen, als er auf den Schweinemann traf. Die Zähne wären seine Waffen, wenn es zum Kampf käme. Montgomery folgte mit taumelnden Schritten, seine Hände in den Hosentaschen, sein Gesicht gesenkt; er war im Stadium konfuser Verdrossenheit mit mir wegen des Brandys. Mein linker Arm war in einer Schlinge ( glücklicherweise war es mein linker), und meinen Revolver trug ich in der rechten. Bald folgten wir einem schmalen Pfad durch die wilde Fülle der Insel, gingen nordwestwärts; und bald hielt M''ing an und wurde starr vor Wachsamkeit. Montgomery taumelte fast in ihn hinein, und dann hielt er auch an. Dann, als wir aufmerksam lauschten, hörten wir durch die Bäume hindurch den Klang von Stimmen, der sich uns näherte.

"Er ist tot", sagte eine tiefe, vibrierende Stimme.

" Er ist nicht tot; er ist nicht tot", plapperte eine andere.

" Wir sahen es, wir sahen es", sagten einige Stimmen.

" Hallo!" schrie plötzlich Montgomery . "Hallo, da!" "Geh zur Hölle!" sagte ich und ergriff meine Pistole.

Es gab eine Stille, dann ein Krachen inmitten der verflochtenen Vegetation, zuerst hier, dann dort, und dann erschienen ein halbes Dutzend Gesichter, - seltsame Gesichter, beleuchtet von einem fremden Licht. M'ling machte ein brummendes Geräusch in seiner Kehle. Ich erkannte den Affenmann: Ich hatte tatsächlich schon seine Stimme erkannt, und zwei der weiß eingehüllten Wesen mit braunem Gesicht, die ich in Montgomerys Boot gesehen hatte. With these were the two dappled brutes and that grey, horribly crooked creature who said the Law, with grey hair streaming down its cheeks, heavy grey eyebrows, and grey locks pouring off from a central parting upon its sloping forehead,—a heavy, faceless thing, with strange red eyes, looking at us curiously from amidst the green.

Für eine Weile sprach niemand. Dann hickste Montgomery: "Wer-sagte-, er-wäre tot?" Der Affenmann schaute schuldbewusst zu dem grau behaarten DING. "Er ist tot", sagte dieses Monster. "Sie sahen es." Es gab auf jeden Fall nichts Bedrohliches bei dieser Feststellung. Sie erschienen in Schrecken versetzt und verwirrt.

"Wo ist er?", sagte Montgomery.

" Außerhalb", und die graue Kreatur zeigte es.

"Gibt es noch ein Gesetz?" fragte der Affenmann. "Muss es immer noch dieses oder jenes sein? Ist er wirklich tot?" "Gibt es ein Gesetz?" wiederholte der Mann in Weiß. "Gibt es ein Gesetz, du Anderer mit der Peitsche?" "Er ist tot", sagte das graubehaarte DING.

Und sie alle standen da und beobachteten uns.

"Prendick", sagte Montgomery und richtete seine trüben Augen auf mich. "Er ist offenkundig tot." Ich stand während dieses Gesprächs hinter ihm. Ich begann zu verstehen, wie die Dinge bei ihnen lagen. Plötzlich trat ich vor Montgomery und erhob meine Stimme: " Kinder des Gesetzes", sagte ich, " er ist nicht tot!" " M'ling wandte mir seine scharfen Augen zu. "Er hat seine Gestalt geändert; er hat seinen Körper verändert", fuhr ich fort. "Eine Zeitlang werdet ihr ihn nicht sehen. Er ist-da", ich zeigte hinauf, "wo er euch beobachten kann. Ihr könnt ihn nicht sehen, aber er kann euch sehen. Fürchtet das Gesetz!" Ich schaute sie direkt an. Sie wichen zurück.

" Er ist groß, er ist gut", sagte der Affenmann und spähte ängstlich unter den dichten Bäumen nach oben.

"Und das andere DING?" fragte ich nach.

"Das DING, das blutete und schreiend und schluchzend weglief, das ist auch tot", sagte das graue DING und betrachtete mich immer noch.

"Das ist gut", knurrte Montgomery.

" Der Andere mit der Peitsche-" begann das graue DING.

"Nun?" sagte ich.

" Sagte, er wäre tot." Aber Montgomery war noch nüchtern genug, um mein Motiv zu verstehen, Moreaus Tod zu verleugnen. " Er ist nicht tot", sagte er langsam, "überhaupt nicht tot. Nicht mehr tot als ich es bin." " Einige", sagte ich, " haben das Gesetz gebrochen: Sie werden sterben. Einige sind gestorben. Zeige uns jetzt, wo sein alter Körper liegt, - der Körper, den er weggeworfen hat, weil er keinen Bedarf mehr dafür hatte." " Es ist dieser Weg, Mann, der ins Meer ging", sagte das graue DING.

Und mit diesen sechs Kreaturen, die uns führten, gingen wir durch das Gewirr von Farnen, Kletterpflanzen und Baumstämmen nach Nordwesten. Dann kam ein Gebrüll, ein Krachen inmitten der Äste und ein kleines, rosafarbenes Menschlein stürmte schreiend an uns vorbei. Immediately after appeared a feral monster in headlong pursuit, blood-bedabbled, who was amongst us almost before he could stop his career. Das graue DING sprang zur Seite. M'ling ging mit einem Knurren darauf los und wurde zur Seite gestoßen. Montgomery feuerte und traf nicht, neigte den Kopf, warf seinen Arm hoch und drehte sich um, um zu rennen. Ich feuerte, und das DING kam immer noch weiter; ich feuerte wieder, geradewegs in sein hässliches Gesicht. Ich sah, wie sich seine Gesichtszüge im Handumdrehen auflösten: sein Gesicht war eingeschlagen. Yet it passed me, gripped Montgomery, and holding him, fell headlong beside him and pulled him sprawling upon itself in its death-agony.

Ich war allein mit M'ling, dem toten Tier und dem auf dem Bauch liegenden Mann. Montgomery erhob sich langsam und starrte in verwirrter Art und Weise auf den zerschmetterten Tiermann neben ihm. Es machte ihn mehr als halbwegs nüchtern. Er kam mühevoll auf die Beine. Dann sah ich das graue DING vorsichtig durch die Bäume zurückkehren.

"Schau," sagte ich und zeigte auf den toten Unmensch, " lebt das Gesetz nicht? Das kommt vom Gesetzesbruch." Er starrte auf den Körper. " Er schickt das Feuer, das tötet", sagte er mit seiner tiefen Stimme, den Teil des Rituals wiederholend. Die anderen schauten sich um und starrten nach einer Lücke.

Endlich kamen wir dem westlichsten Ende der Insel näher. Wir stießen auf den abgenagten und verstümmelten Körper des Pumas, sein Schulterknochen war von einer Kugel zertrümmert, und vielleicht zwanzig Meter weiter fanden wir schließlich, was wir suchten. Moreau lag mit dem Gesicht nach unten auf einem zertretenen Ort im Schilf. Eine Hand war am Handgelenk fast durchtrennt, und sein silbriges Haar war mit Blut bespritzt. Sein Kopf war von den Fesseln des Pumas eingeschlagen. Die gebrochenen Schilfrohre neben ihm waren mit Blut verschmiert. Seinen Revolver konnten wir nicht finden. Montgomery drehte ihn um.

In Abständen ausruhend, und (da er ein schwerer Mann war) mit Hilfe der sieben Tiermenschen, trugen wir Moreau zurück zur Anlage. Die Nacht war dunkel. Zweimal hörten wir unsichtbare Lebewesen hinter unserem kleinen Truppe heulen und kreischen, und einmal erschien das kleine rosafarbene Faultiergeschöpf und starrte uns an und verschwand wieder. Aber wir wurden nicht wieder angegriffen. An den Toren der Anlage verließ uns die Tiermenschengesellschaft, M'ling ging mit dem Rest. Wir schlossen uns ein, nahmen dann Moreaus übel zugerichteten Körper in den Hof und legten ihn auf einen Haufen Reisig. Dann gingen wir ins Labor und setzten allem, was dort zu finden war und lebte, ein Ende.
unit 1
The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells.
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Chapter 18.
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THE FINDING OF MOREAU.
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WHEN I saw Montgomery swallow a third dose of brandy, I took it upon myself to interfere.
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He was already more than half fuddled.
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Montgomery raised some feeble objections, and at last agreed.
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We had some food, and then all three of us started.
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He was unarmed; his axe he had dropped when he encountered the Swine-man.
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Teeth were his weapons, when it came to fighting.
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My left arm was in a sling (it was lucky it was my left), and I carried my revolver in my right.
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Montgomery almost staggered into him, and then stopped too.
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“He is dead,” said a deep, vibrating voice.
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“He is not dead; he is not dead,” jabbered another.
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“We saw, we saw,” said several voices.
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“Hul-lo!” suddenly shouted Montgomery.
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“Hul-lo, there!” “Confound you!” said I, and gripped my pistol.
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M’ling made a growling noise in his throat.
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For a space no one spoke.
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“He is dead,” said this monster.
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“They saw.” There was nothing threatening about this detachment, at any rate.
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They seemed awe-stricken and puzzled.
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“Where is he?” said Montgomery.
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“Beyond,” and the grey creature pointed.
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“Is there a Law now?” asked the Monkey-man.
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“Is it still to be this and that?
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Is he dead indeed?” “Is there a Law?” repeated the man in white.
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“Is there a Law, thou Other with the Whip?” “He is dead,” said the hairy-grey Thing.
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And they all stood watching us.
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“Prendick,” said Montgomery, turning his dull eyes to me.
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“He’s dead, evidently.” I had been standing behind him during this colloquy.
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I began to see how things lay with them.
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“He has changed his shape; he has changed his body,” I went on.
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“For a time you will not see him.
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He is—there,” I pointed upward, “where he can watch you.
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You cannot see him, but he can see you.
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Fear the Law!” I looked at them squarely.
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They flinched.
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“He is great, he is good,” said the Ape-man, peering fearfully upward among the dense trees.
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“And the other Thing?” I demanded.
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“That‘s well,” grunted Montgomery.
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“The Other with the Whip—” began the grey Thing.
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“Well?” said I.
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“He is not dead,” he said slowly, “not dead at all.
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Some have died.
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The grey Thing leapt aside.
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M’ling, with a snarl, flew at it, and was struck aside.
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Montgomery fired and missed, bowed his head, threw up his arm, and turned to run.
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I fired, and the Thing still came on; fired again, point-blank, into its ugly face.
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I saw its features vanish in a flash: its face was driven in.
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I found myself alone with M’ling, the dead brute, and the prostrate man.
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It more than half sobered him.
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He scrambled to his feet.
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Then I saw the grey Thing returning cautiously through the trees.
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“See,” said I, pointing to the dead brute, “is the Law not alive?
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This came of breaking the Law.” He peered at the body.
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“He sends the Fire that kills,” said he, in his deep voice, repeating part of the Ritual.
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The others gathered round and stared for a space.
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At last we drew near the westward extremity of the island.
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Moreau lay face downward in a trampled space in a canebrake.
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One hand was almost severed at the wrist, and his silvery hair was dabbled in blood.
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His head had been battered in by the fetters of the puma.
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The broken canes beneath him were smeared with blood.
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His revolver we could not find.
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Montgomery turned him over.
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The night was darkling.
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But we were not attacked again.
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Then we went into the laboratory and put an end to all we found living there.
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The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells.

Chapter 18.

THE FINDING OF MOREAU.

WHEN I saw Montgomery swallow a third dose of brandy, I took it upon myself to interfere. He was already more than half fuddled. I told him that some serious thing must have happened to Moreau by this time, or he would have returned before this, and that it behoved us to ascertain what that catastrophe was. Montgomery raised some feeble objections, and at last agreed. We had some food, and then all three of us started.

It is possibly due to the tension of my mind at the time, but even now that start into the hot stillness of the tropical afternoon is a singularly vivid impression. M’ling went first, his shoulder hunched, his strange black head moving with quick starts as he peered first on this side of the way and then on that. He was unarmed; his axe he had dropped when he encountered the Swine-man. Teeth were his weapons, when it came to fighting. Montgomery followed with stumbling footsteps, his hands in his pockets, his face downcast; he was in a state of muddled sullenness with me on account of the brandy. My left arm was in a sling (it was lucky it was my left), and I carried my revolver in my right. Soon we traced a narrow path through the wild luxuriance of the island, going northwestward; and presently M‘’ing stopped, and became rigid with watchfulness. Montgomery almost staggered into him, and then stopped too. Then, listening intently, we heard coming through the trees the sound of voices and footsteps approaching us.

“He is dead,” said a deep, vibrating voice.

“He is not dead; he is not dead,” jabbered another.

“We saw, we saw,” said several voices.

“Hul-lo!” suddenly shouted Montgomery. “Hul-lo, there!”

“Confound you!” said I, and gripped my pistol.

There was a silence, then a crashing among the interlacing vegetation, first here, then there, and then half-a-dozen faces appeared,—strange faces, lit by a strange light. M’ling made a growling noise in his throat. I recognised the Ape-man: I had indeed already identified his voice, and two of the white-swathed brown-featured creatures I had seen in Montgomery’s boat. With these were the two dappled brutes and that grey, horribly crooked creature who said the Law, with grey hair streaming down its cheeks, heavy grey eyebrows, and grey locks pouring off from a central parting upon its sloping forehead,—a heavy, faceless thing, with strange red eyes, looking at us curiously from amidst the green.

For a space no one spoke. Then Montgomery hiccoughed, “Who—said he was dead?”

The Monkey-man looked guiltily at the hairy-grey Thing. “He is dead,” said this monster. “They saw.”

There was nothing threatening about this detachment, at any rate. They seemed awe-stricken and puzzled.

“Where is he?” said Montgomery.

“Beyond,” and the grey creature pointed.

“Is there a Law now?” asked the Monkey-man. “Is it still to be this and that? Is he dead indeed?”

“Is there a Law?” repeated the man in white. “Is there a Law, thou Other with the Whip?”

“He is dead,” said the hairy-grey Thing.

And they all stood watching us.

“Prendick,” said Montgomery, turning his dull eyes to me. “He’s dead, evidently.”

I had been standing behind him during this colloquy. I began to see how things lay with them. I suddenly stepped in front of Montgomery and lifted up my voice:—

“Children of the Law,” I said, “he is not dead!” M’ling turned his sharp eyes on me. “He has changed his shape; he has changed his body,” I went on. “For a time you will not see him. He is—there,” I pointed upward, “where he can watch you. You cannot see him, but he can see you. Fear the Law!”

I looked at them squarely. They flinched.

“He is great, he is good,” said the Ape-man, peering fearfully upward among the dense trees.

“And the other Thing?” I demanded.

“The Thing that bled, and ran screaming and sobbing,—that is dead too,” said the grey Thing, still regarding me.

“That‘s well,” grunted Montgomery.

“The Other with the Whip—” began the grey Thing.

“Well?” said I.

“Said he was dead.”

But Montgomery was still sober enough to understand my motive in denying Moreau‘s death. “He is not dead,” he said slowly, “not dead at all. No more dead than I am.”

“Some,” said I, “have broken the Law: they will die. Some have died. Show us now where his old body lies,—the body he cast away because he had no more need of it.”

“It is this way, Man who walked in the Sea,” said the grey Thing.

And with these six creatures guiding us, we went through the tumult of ferns and creepers and tree-stems towards the northwest. Then came a yelling, a crashing among the branches, and a little pink homunculus rushed by us shrieking. Immediately after appeared a feral monster in headlong pursuit, blood-bedabbled, who was amongst us almost before he could stop his career. The grey Thing leapt aside. M’ling, with a snarl, flew at it, and was struck aside. Montgomery fired and missed, bowed his head, threw up his arm, and turned to run. I fired, and the Thing still came on; fired again, point-blank, into its ugly face. I saw its features vanish in a flash: its face was driven in. Yet it passed me, gripped Montgomery, and holding him, fell headlong beside him and pulled him sprawling upon itself in its death-agony.

I found myself alone with M’ling, the dead brute, and the prostrate man. Montgomery raised himself slowly and stared in a muddled way at the shattered Beast Man beside him. It more than half sobered him. He scrambled to his feet. Then I saw the grey Thing returning cautiously through the trees.

“See,” said I, pointing to the dead brute, “is the Law not alive? This came of breaking the Law.”

He peered at the body. “He sends the Fire that kills,” said he, in his deep voice, repeating part of the Ritual. The others gathered round and stared for a space.

At last we drew near the westward extremity of the island. We came upon the gnawed and mutilated body of the puma, its shoulder-bone smashed by a bullet, and perhaps twenty yards farther found at last what we sought. Moreau lay face downward in a trampled space in a canebrake. One hand was almost severed at the wrist, and his silvery hair was dabbled in blood. His head had been battered in by the fetters of the puma. The broken canes beneath him were smeared with blood. His revolver we could not find. Montgomery turned him over.

Resting at intervals, and with the help of the seven Beast People (for he was a heavy man), we carried Moreau back to the enclosure. The night was darkling. Twice we heard unseen creatures howling and shrieking past our little band, and once the little pink sloth-creature appeared and stared at us, and vanished again. But we were not attacked again. At the gates of the enclosure our company of Beast People left us, M’ling going with the rest. We locked ourselves in, and then took Moreau’mangled body into the yard and laid it upon a pile of brushwood. Then we went into the laboratory and put an end to all we found living there.