en-es  The Island of Doctor Moreau/Ch 21 Medium
La isla del doctor Moreau, de H. G. Wells
Capítulo 21


La reversión de la gente bestia


De esta manera, me convertí en uno de la gente bestia de la isla del doctor Moreau. Cuando desperté, estaba oscuro a mi alrededor. Me dolía el brazo en sus vendajes. Me senté, preguntándome al principio dónde podría estar. Oí voces gruesas hablando afuera. Entonces vi que mi barricada no estaba y que la abertura de la cabaña estaba despejada. Tenía aún el revólver en la mano.

Escuché algo respirar, vi algo agachado junto a mí. Contuve la respiración, tratando de ver qué era. Comenzó a moverse lenta, interminablemente. Entonces algo suave, cálido y húmedo rozó mi mano. Todos mis músculos se contrajeron. Aparté rápidamente la mano. Un grito de alarma comenzó y se ahogó en mi garganta. Entonces, en ese momento, me di cuenta de lo que había sucedido y no apreté el gatillo.

"¿Quién es ese?", dije en un ronco susurro, apuntando todavía con el revólver.

“Yo... amo”. “¿Quién eres?”. “Dicen que ahora no hay amo. Pero lo sé, lo sé. Yo llevé los cuerpos al mar, ¡oh caminante en el mar!, los cuerpos de los que mataste. Soy tu esclavo, amo". "¿Eres tú a quien conocí en la playa?", le pregunté.

"El mismo, amo". La cosa era evidentemente lo suficiente leal, porque podría haberme atacado mientras dormía. "Está bien", dije, extendiendo la mano por otro beso con lamido. Comencé a comprender el significado de su presencia, y mi valor creció. "¿Dónde están los otros?", pregunté.

"Son dementes; son locos", dijo el hombre perro. "Ahora mismo están platicando allí. Dicen, "El amo está muerto. El otro con el látigo está muerto. Ese otro que caminó en el mar es como nosotros. Ya no tenemos amo, no hay látigos, no hay Casa de Dolor. Hay un fin. Amamos la ley y la cumpliremos; pero no hay dolor, no hay amo, no hay látigos para siempre'. Eso dicen. Pero lo sé, amo, lo sé". Me sentí en la oscuridad y di una palmadita en la cabeza del hombre-perro. "Está bien", dije de nuevo.

"Pronto vas a aniquilar a todos", dijo el hombre perro.

"Pronto", respondí, "aniquilaré a todos...después de un lapso de tiempo y después de que sucedan ciertas cosas. Cada uno de ellos menos los que perdones, cada uno será aniquilado". Lo que el amo quiere matar, el amo mata", dijo el hombre perro con cierta satisfacción en la voz.

"Y para que crezcan sus pecados",dije, "qué vivan en su estupidez hasta llegue su momento. Que no sepan que soy yo el amo". "La voluntad del amo es dulce", dijo el hombre perro con la discreción característica de su sangre canina.

"Pero hay uno que ha pecado", dije. "Lo mataré tan pronto lo encuentre. Cuando te diga, 'Ahí está', asegúrate de abalanzarte sobre él. Y ahora voy a los hombres y mujeres que están reunidos". Por un instante la abertura de la cabaña fue ennegrecida por la salida del hombre perro. Luego lo seguí y me puse de pie, casi en el mismo lugar en que había estado cuando había oido a Moreau y sus perros de caza persiguiéndome. Pero esta vez era de noche, y todo estaba oscuro en el barranco sucio alrededor de mí; y más allá, en vez de una cuesta verde iluminada por el sol, vi un fuego rojo, ante el cual unas figuras grotescas y encogidas se movían de un lado al otro. Detrás estaba el bosque denso, un muro de oscuridad, bordeado encima con el encaje negro de las ramas superiores. La luna acababa de subir hasta el borde del barranco y, como si fuera una barra traspasando su cara, una voluta del vapor que siempre estaba saliendo de las fumarolas de la isla pasó frente a ella.

"Camina conmigo", dije, armándome de valor, y juntos caminamos por la estrecha vía, apenas haciendo caso de las figuras borrosas que nos miraban desde las chozas.

Ninguno alrededor del fuego trató de saludarme. La mayoría me ignoró, ostentosamente. Miré alrededor por el hiena porcina, pero no estaba. En total, quizás veinte de la gente bestia estaban en cuclillas, mirando el fuego o platicando.

"¡Él está muerto, él está muerto! el amo está muerto!", dijo la voz del hombre mono a mi derecha. "¡La casa de dolor...no hay casa de dolor!". "No está muerto", dije yo, en una voz fuerte. "¡Incluso ahora mismo está mirándonos!". Esto les asustó. Veinte pares de ojos me observaron.

"La casa de dolor ya no existe", dije. "Pero va a volver. No se puede ver al amo; pero aun ahora los está escuchando". "¡Verdad, verdad!", dijo el hombre perro.

Los dejó pasmados mi certeza. Puede que un animal sea bastante feroz y astuto, pero solo un hombre puede mentir.

"El hombre del brazo vendado dice algo extrañol", dijo uno de la gente bestia.

:"Yo te digo que es la verdad", dije. "El amo y la casa de dolor vendrán de nuevo. "¡Pobre del que viole la ley!". Se miraron curiosamente. Con una afectada indiferencia comencé a cortar distraídamente en el suelo delante de mí con mi hacha. Observaron, me di cuenta, los profundos cortes que hacía en el pasto.

Entonces el sátiro planteó una duda. Le respondí. Entonces una de las cosas moteadas se opuso y surgió una animada discusión alrededor del fuego. A cada momento comencé a sentirme más convencido de mi seguridad actual. Hablé ya sin la voz entrecortada, debido a la intensidad de mi emoción, que me había preocupado al principio. En el transcurso de aproximadamente una hora, había convencido realmente a varios de la gente bestia de la verdad de mis afirmaciones, y había hecho dudar a la mayoría de los demás. Mantuve un ojo atento por mi enemigo, la hiena porcina, pero nunca apareció. De vez en cuando me sobresaltaba un movimiento sospechoso, pero mi confianza creció rápidamente. Luego, mientras bajaba la luna del cénit, uno por uno los que escuchaban empezaron a bostezar (mostrando los dientes más raros a la luz del fuego moribundo), y empezaron a retirarse hacia las guaridas en el barranco, y yo, teniendo pavor al silencio y a la oscuridad, fui con ellos, sabiendo que estaba más seguro con varios de ellos que con uno solo.

Y así empezó la mayor parte de mi estancia en esta isla del doctor Moreau. Pero desde aquella noche hasta el final, solo sucedió una cosa digna de relatar, salvo por un sinfín de pequeños detalles desagradables y la preocupación de una incesante inquietud. Así que prefiero no hacer ninguna crónica de aquel lapso de tiempo, y solo contar el incidente más importante de los diez meses que conviví con estos brutos medio humanizados. Hay tantas cosas fijas en la memoria que podría escribir...cosas que para olvidarlas sacrificaría con gusto la mano derecha; pero ellas no ayudan a contar la historia.

Volviendo la vista atrás, parece extraño qué rápido me acostumbré a los hábitos de estos monstruos, y recobré mi confianza otra vez. Tenía mis peleas con ellos, claro, y aún podría mostrar unas marcas de sus dientes; pero ellos pronto desarrollaron un gran respeto por mi truco de tirar piedras y por la mordedura de mi hacha. Y la lealtad de mi hombre Saint-Bernard fue un servicio infinito para mí. Encontré que su sencilla escala de honor se basaba principalmente en la capacidad de causar heridas agudas. De hecho, puedo decir...sin vanidad, espero...que tenía algo como preeminencia entre ellos. Uno o dos, a quienes en un raro acceso de osadía había marcado bastante severamente, me guardaron rencor; pero este se desahogó principalmente a mis espaldas y a una distancia segura de mis misiles, en muecas.

La hiena porcina me evitaba y siempre estuve en alerta por él. Mi inseparable perro hombre lo odiaba y temía intensamente. Realmente creo que eso estaba en la raíz del apego del bruto hacia mí. Pronto me fue evidente que el antiguo monstruo había probado la sangre y se había ido por el camino del hombre leopardo. Formó una guarida en algún lugar del bosque y se volvió solitario. Una vez intenté inducir a la gente bestia a cazarlo, pero yo carecía de la autoridad para hacerlos cooperar para un fin. Una y otra vez traté de acercarme a su guarida y caerle de improviso; pero siempre fue demasiado listo para mí, y me vio o me olió y se escapó. Él también hizo que cada sendero del bosque fuera peligroso para mí y para mi aliado, con sus emboscadas latentes. El hombre perro apenas se atrevía a dejar mi lado.

En el primer mes, aproximadamente, la gente bestia era bastante humana, en comparación con su última condición, e incluso concebí una tolerancia amistosa con uno o dos, además de mi amigo canino. La pequeña criatura perezosa rosada mostró un extraño afecto por mí y comenzó a seguirme por ahí. El hombre mono me aburrió, sin embargo; asumió, basado en sus cinco dedos, que era mi igual, y siempre me estaba parloteando... parloteando las más completas tonterías. Una cosa sobre él me entretuvo un poco: tenía un don fantástico para acuñar nuevas palabras. Tenía la idea, creo, de que el uso correcto del habla era parlotear sobre nombres que no significaban nada. Lo llamó "pensar a lo grande" para distinguirlo de "pensar en pequeño", los cuerdos intereses cotidianos de la vida. Si alguna vez hice un comentario que no entendió, él lo elogiaría mucho, me pediría repetirlo, lo memorizaría y se iría repitiéndolo con una u otra palabra equivocada, a toda la gente bestia apacible. No le interesaban las cosas simples y comprensibles. Inventé unos muy curiosos "pensamientos a lo grande" para su uso especial. Ahora pienso que era la criatura más absurda que jamás conocí; había desarrollado de una manera maravillosa las estúpideces distintivas de los humanos sin perder ni una pizca del sinsentido natural de un mono.

Esto, digo, fue en las primeras semanas de mi soledad entre estos brutos. Durante aquel período, respetaban las normas establecidas por la Ley y se comportaban en general con decoro. Una vez encontré otro conejo descuartizado,--por la hiena porcina, estoy seguro,--pero eso fue todo. Fue más o menos en mayo cuando por primera vez percebí claramente una creciente diferencia en su habla y postura, un aumento en la aspereza de expresión y menos disposición a hablar. El parloteo de mi hombre mono se multiplicó en volumen, pero se hizo cada vez menos comprensible, cada vez más simiesco. Algunos de los otros parecían equivocarse por completo al hablar, aunque todavía entendían lo que les decía en ese momento. (¿Puede usted imaginar la lengua, una vez clara y exacta, volviéndose borrosa e inestable, perdiendo forma y sentido, llegando otra vez a ser puro balbuceo?) Y caminaban erguido con cada vez más dificultad. Aunque era evidente que se sentían vergüenza, de vez en cuando topé con uno u otro corriendo en cuatro patas, y completamente incapaz de recobrar la postura vertical. Agarraron las cosas con más torpeza; bebiendo por succión, royendo para comer, volviéndose menos refinados cada día. Comprendía más intensamente que nunca lo que Moreau me había dicho sobre "la resistente carne bestia". Ellos estaban retrocediendo, y retrocediendo muy rápidamente.

Some of them—the pioneers in this, I noticed with some surprise, were all females—began to disregard the injunction of decency, deliberately for the most part. Others even attempted public outrages upon the institution of monogamy. The tradition of the Law was clearly losing its force. I cannot pursue this disagreeable subject.

My Dog-man imperceptibly slipped back to the dog again; day by day he became dumb, quadrupedal, hairy. I scarcely noticed the transition from the companion on my right hand to the lurching dog at my side.

As the carelessness and disorganisation increased from day to day, the lane of dwelling-places, at no time very sweet, became so loathsome that I left it, and going across the island made myself a hovel of boughs amid the black ruins of Moreau’s enclosure. Some memory of pain, I found, still made that place the safest from the Beast Folk.

It would be impossible to detail every step of the lapsing of these monsters,—to tell how, day by day, the human semblance left them; how they gave up bandagings and wrappings, abandoned at last every stitch of clothing; how the hair began to spread over the exposed limbs; how their foreheads fell away and their faces projected; how the quasi-human intimacy I had permitted myself with some of them in the first month of my loneliness became a shuddering horror to recall.

The change was slow and inevitable. For them and for me it came without any definite shock. I still went among them in safety, because no jolt in the downward glide had released the increasing charge of explosive animalism that ousted the human day by day. But I began to fear that soon now that shock must come. My Saint-Bernard-brute followed me to the enclosure every night, and his vigilance enabled me to sleep at times in something like peace. The little pink sloth-thing became shy and left me, to crawl back to its natural life once more among the tree-branches. We were in just the state of equilibrium that would remain in one of those “Happy Family” cages which animal-tamers exhibit, if the tamer were to leave it for ever.

Of course these creatures did not decline into such beasts as the reader has seen in zoölogical gardens,—into ordinary bears, wolves, tigers, oxen, swine, and apes. There was still something strange about each; in each Moreau had blended this animal with that. One perhaps was ursine chiefly, another feline chiefly, another bovine chiefly; but each was tainted with other creatures,—a kind of generalised animalism appearing through the specific dispositions. And the dwindling shreds of the humanity still startled me every now and then,—a momentary recrudescence of speech perhaps, an unexpected dexterity of the fore-feet, a pitiful attempt to walk erect.

I too must have undergone strange changes. My clothes hung about me as yellow rags, through whose rents showed the tanned skin. My hair grew long, and became matted together. I am told that even now my eyes have a strange brightness, a swift alertness of movement.

At first I spent the daylight hours on the southward beach watching for a ship, hoping and praying for a ship. I counted on the “Ipecacuanha” returning as the year wore on; but she never came. Five times I saw sails, and thrice smoke; but nothing ever touched the island. I always had a bonfire ready, but no doubt the volcanic reputation of the island was taken to account for that.

It was only about September or October that I began to think of making a raft. By that time my arm had healed, and both my hands were at my service again. At first, I found my helplessness appalling. I had never done any carpentry or such-like work in my life, and I spent day after day in experimental chopping and binding among the trees. I had no ropes, and could hit on nothing wherewith to make ropes; none of the abundant creepers seemed limber or strong enough, and with all my litter of scientific education I could not devise any way of making them so. I spent more than a fortnight grubbing among the black ruins of the enclosure and on the beach where the boats had been burnt, looking for nails and other stray pieces of metal that might prove of service. Now and then some Beast-creature would watch me, and go leaping off when I called to it. There came a season of thunder-storms and heavy rain, which greatly retarded my work; but at last the raft was completed.

I was delighted with it. But with a certain lack of practical sense which has always been my bane, I had made it a mile or more from the sea; and before I had dragged it down to the beach the thing had fallen to pieces. Perhaps it is as well that I was saved from launching it; but at the time my misery at my failure was so acute that for some days I simply moped on the beach, and stared at the water and thought of death.

I did not, however, mean to die, and an incident occurred that warned me unmistakably of the folly of letting the days pass so,—for each fresh day was fraught with increasing danger from the Beast People.

I was lying in the shade of the enclosure wall, staring out to sea, when I was startled by something cold touching the skin of my heel, and starting round found the little pink sloth-creature blinking into my face. He had long since lost speech and active movement, and the lank hair of the little brute grew thicker every day and his stumpy claws more askew. He made a moaning noise when he saw he had attracted my attention, went a little way towards the bushes and looked back at me.

At first I did not understand, but presently it occurred to me that he wished me to follow him; and this I did at last,—slowly, for the day was hot. When we reached the trees he clambered into them, for he could travel better among their swinging creepers than on the ground. And suddenly in a trampled space I came upon a ghastly group. My Saint-Bernard-creature lay on the ground, dead; and near his body crouched the Hyena-swine, gripping the quivering flesh with its misshapen claws, gnawing at it, and snarling with delight. As I approached, the monster lifted its glaring eyes to mine, its lips went trembling back from its red-stained teeth, and it growled menacingly. It was not afraid and not ashamed; the last vestige of the human taint had vanished. I advanced a step farther, stopped, and pulled out my revolver. At last I had him face to face.

The brute made no sign of retreat; but its ears went back, its hair bristled, and its body crouched together. I aimed between the eyes and fired. As I did so, the Thing rose straight at me in a leap, and I was knocked over like a ninepin. It clutched at me with its crippled hand, and struck me in the face. Its spring carried it over me. I fell under the hind part of its body; but luckily I had hit as I meant, and it had died even as it leapt. I crawled out from under its unclean weight and stood up trembling, staring at its quivering body. That danger at least was over; but this, I knew, was only the first of the series of relapses that must come.

I burnt both of the bodies on a pyre of brushwood; but after that I saw that unless I left the island my death was only a question of time. The Beast People by that time had, with one or two exceptions, left the ravine and made themselves lairs according to their taste among the thickets of the island. Few prowled by day, most of them slept, and the island might have seemed deserted to a new-comer; but at night the air was hideous with their calls and howling. I had half a mind to make a massacre of them; to build traps, or fight them with my knife. Had I possessed sufficient cartridges, I should not have hesitated to begin the killing. There could now be scarcely a score left of the dangerous carnivores; the braver of these were already dead. After the death of this poor dog of mine, my last friend, I too adopted to some extent the practice of slumbering in the daytime in order to be on my guard at night. I rebuilt my den in the walls of the enclosure, with such a narrow opening that anything attempting to enter must necessarily make a considerable noise. The creatures had lost the art of fire too, and recovered their fear of it. I turned once more, almost passionately now, to hammering together stakes and branches to form a raft for my escape.

I found a thousand difficulties. I am an extremely unhandy man (my schooling was over before the days of Slojd); but most of the requirements of a raft I met at last in some clumsy, circuitous way or other, and this time I took care of the strength. The only insurmountable obstacle was that I had no vessel to contain the water I should need if I floated forth upon these untravelled seas. I would have even tried pottery, but the island contained no clay. I used to go moping about the island, trying with all my might to solve this one last difficulty. Sometimes I would give way to wild outbursts of rage, and hack and splinter some unlucky tree in my intolerable vexation. But I could think of nothing.

And then came a day, a wonderful day, which I spent in ecstasy. I saw a sail to the southwest, a small sail like that of a little schooner; and forthwith I lit a great pile of brushwood, and stood by it in the heat of it, and the heat of the midday sun, watching. All day I watched that sail, eating or drinking nothing, so that my head reeled; and the Beasts came and glared at me, and seemed to wonder, and went away. It was still distant when night came and swallowed it up; and all night I toiled to keep my blaze bright and high, and the eyes of the Beasts shone out of the darkness, marvelling. In the dawn the sail was nearer, and I saw it was the dirty lug-sail of a small boat. But it sailed strangely. My eyes were weary with watching, and I peered and could not believe them. Two men were in the boat, sitting low down,—one by the bows, the other at the rudder. The head was not kept to the wind; it yawed and fell away.

As the day grew brighter, I began waving the last rag of my jacket to them; but they did not notice me, and sat still, facing each other. I went to the lowest point of the low headland, and gesticulated and shouted. There was no response, and the boat kept on her aimless course, making slowly, very slowly, for the bay. Suddenly a great white bird flew up out of the boat, and neither of the men stirred nor noticed it; it circled round, and then came sweeping overhead with its strong wings outspread.

Then I stopped shouting, and sat down on the headland and rested my chin on my hands and stared. Slowly, slowly, the boat drove past towards the west. I would have swum out to it, but something—a cold, vague fear—kept me back. In the afternoon the tide stranded the boat, and left it a hundred yards or so to the westward of the ruins of the enclosure. The men in it were dead, had been dead so long that they fell to pieces when I tilted the boat on its side and dragged them out. One had a shock of red hair, like the captain of the “Ipecacuanha,” and a dirty white cap lay in the bottom of the boat.

As I stood beside the boat, three of the Beasts came slinking out of the bushes and sniffing towards me. One of my spasms of disgust came upon me. I thrust the little boat down the beach and clambered on board her. Two of the brutes were Wolf-beasts, and came forward with quivering nostrils and glittering eyes; the third was the horrible nondescript of bear and bull. When I saw them approaching those wretched remains, heard them snarling at one another and caught the gleam of their teeth, a frantic horror succeeded my repulsion. I turned my back upon them, struck the lug and began paddling out to sea. I could not bring myself to look behind me.

I lay, however, between the reef and the island that night, and the next morning went round to the stream and filled the empty keg aboard with water. Then, with such patience as I could command, I collected a quantity of fruit, and waylaid and killed two rabbits with my last three cartridges. While I was doing this I left the boat moored to an inward projection of the reef, for fear of the Beast People.
unit 1
The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells.
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unit 2
Chapter 21.
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unit 3
THE REVERSION OF THE BEAST FOLK.
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IN this way I became one among the Beast People in the Island of Doctor Moreau.
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When I awoke, it was dark about me.
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My arm ached in its bandages.
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I sat up, wondering at first where I might be.
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I heard coarse voices talking outside.
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Then I saw that my barricade had gone, and that the opening of the hut stood clear.
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My revolver was still in my hand.
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I heard something breathing, saw something crouched together close beside me.
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I held my breath, trying to see what it was.
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It began to move slowly, interminably.
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Then something soft and warm and moist passed across my hand.
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All my muscles contracted.
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I snatched my hand away.
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A cry of alarm began and was stifled in my throat.
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Then I just realised what had happened sufficiently to stay my fingers on the revolver.
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“Who is that?” I said in a hoarse whisper, the revolver still pointed.
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“I— Master.” “Who are you?” “They say there is no Master now.
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But I know, I know.
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I carried the bodies into the sea, O Walker in the Sea!
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the bodies of those you slew.
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I am your slave, Master.” “Are you the one I met on the beach?” I asked.
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“It is well,” I said, extending my hand for another licking kiss.
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I began to realise what its presence meant, and the tide of my courage flowed.
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“Where are the others?” I asked.
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“They are mad; they are fools,” said the Dog-man.
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“Even now they talk together beyond there.
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They say, ‘The Master is dead.
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The Other with the Whip is dead.
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That Other who walked in the Sea is as we are.
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We have no Master, no Whips, no House of Pain, any more.
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There is an end.
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But I know, Master, I know.” I felt in the darkness, and patted the Dog-man‘s head.
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“It is well,” I said again.
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“Presently you will slay them all,” said the Dog-man.
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“But one has sinned,” said I.
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“Him I will kill, whenever I may meet him.
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When I say to you, ‘That is he,’ see that you fall upon him.
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unit 53
None about the fire attempted to salute me.
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Most of them disregarded me, ostentatiously.
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I looked round for the Hyena-swine, but he was not there.
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unit 57
“He is dead, he is dead!
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the Master is dead!” said the voice of the Ape-man to the right of me.
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unit 60
“Even now he watches us!” This startled them.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 3 days ago
unit 61
Twenty pairs of eyes regarded me.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago
unit 62
“The House of Pain is gone,” said I.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago
unit 63
“It will come again.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago
unit 64
unit 65
They were staggered at my assurance.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago
unit 66
An animal may be ferocious and cunning enough, but it takes a real man to tell a lie.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago
unit 67
“The Man with the Bandaged Arm speaks a strange thing,” said one of the Beast Folk.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago
unit 68
“I tell you it is so,” I said.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago
unit 69
“The Master and the House of Pain will come again.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 2 days ago
unit 70
Woe be to him who breaks the Law!” They looked curiously at one another.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago
unit 72
They looked, I noticed, at the deep cuts I made in the turf.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago
unit 73
Then the Satyr raised a doubt.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago
unit 74
I answered him.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago
unit 75
Then one of the dappled things objected, and an animated discussion sprang up round the fire.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago
unit 76
Every moment I began to feel more convinced of my present security.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago
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I kept a sharp eye for my enemy the Hyena-swine, but he never appeared.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago
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Every now and then a suspicious movement would startle me, but my confidence grew rapidly.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week, 1 day ago
unit 82
unit 88
And my Saint-Bernard-man’s loyalty was of infinite service to me.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago
unit 92
The Hyena-swine avoided me, and I was always on the alert for him.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 week ago
unit 93
My inseparable Dog-man hated and dreaded him intensely.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 9 hours ago
unit 94
I really believe that was at the root of the brute‘s attachment to me.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 1 hour ago
unit 96
He formed a lair somewhere in the forest, and became solitary.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 9 hours ago
unit 99
He too made every forest pathway dangerous to me and my ally with his lurking ambuscades.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 3 days, 22 hours ago
unit 100
The Dog-man scarcely dared to leave my side.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 6 days, 1 hour ago
unit 102
The little pink sloth-creature displayed an odd affection for me, and took to following me about.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 5 days, 21 hours ago
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One thing about him entertained me a little: he had a fantastic trick of coining new words.
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 2 hours ago
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unit 108
He thought nothing of what was plain and comprehensible.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 1 day, 22 hours ago
unit 109
I invented some very curious “Big Thinks” for his especial use.
2 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 21 hours ago
unit 111
This, I say, was in the earlier weeks of my solitude among these brutes.
2 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 21 hours ago
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And they walked erect with an increasing difficulty.
1 Translations, 0 Upvotes, Last Activity 8 hours ago
unit 123
Others even attempted public outrages upon the institution of monogamy.
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The tradition of the Law was clearly losing its force.
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I cannot pursue this disagreeable subject.
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unit 131
The change was slow and inevitable.
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For them and for me it came without any definite shock.
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But I began to fear that soon now that shock must come.
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I too must have undergone strange changes.
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My hair grew long, and became matted together.
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unit 152
At first, I found my helplessness appalling.
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I was delighted with it.
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And suddenly in a trampled space I came upon a ghastly group.
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I advanced a step farther, stopped, and pulled out my revolver.
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At last I had him face to face.
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I aimed between the eyes and fired.
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It clutched at me with its crippled hand, and struck me in the face.
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Its spring carried it over me.
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I found a thousand difficulties.
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I would have even tried pottery, but the island contained no clay.
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But I could think of nothing.
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And then came a day, a wonderful day, which I spent in ecstasy.
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But it sailed strangely.
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The head was not kept to the wind; it yawed and fell away.
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Slowly, slowly, the boat drove past towards the west.
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One of my spasms of disgust came upon me.
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I thrust the little boat down the beach and clambered on board her.
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I could not bring myself to look behind me.
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The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells.
Chapter 21.

THE REVERSION OF THE BEAST FOLK.

IN this way I became one among the Beast People in the Island of Doctor Moreau. When I awoke, it was dark about me. My arm ached in its bandages. I sat up, wondering at first where I might be. I heard coarse voices talking outside. Then I saw that my barricade had gone, and that the opening of the hut stood clear. My revolver was still in my hand.

I heard something breathing, saw something crouched together close beside me. I held my breath, trying to see what it was. It began to move slowly, interminably. Then something soft and warm and moist passed across my hand. All my muscles contracted. I snatched my hand away. A cry of alarm began and was stifled in my throat. Then I just realised what had happened sufficiently to stay my fingers on the revolver.

“Who is that?” I said in a hoarse whisper, the revolver still pointed.

“I— Master.”

“Who are you?”

“They say there is no Master now. But I know, I know. I carried the bodies into the sea, O Walker in the Sea! the bodies of those you slew. I am your slave, Master.”

“Are you the one I met on the beach?” I asked.

“The same, Master.”

The Thing was evidently faithful enough, for it might have fallen upon me as I slept. “It is well,” I said, extending my hand for another licking kiss. I began to realise what its presence meant, and the tide of my courage flowed. “Where are the others?” I asked.

“They are mad; they are fools,” said the Dog-man. “Even now they talk together beyond there. They say, ‘The Master is dead. The Other with the Whip is dead. That Other who walked in the Sea is as we are. We have no Master, no Whips, no House of Pain, any more. There is an end. We love the Law, and will keep it; but there is no Pain, no Master, no Whips for ever again.’ So they say. But I know, Master, I know.”

I felt in the darkness, and patted the Dog-man‘s head. “It is well,” I said again.

“Presently you will slay them all,” said the Dog-man.

“Presently,” I answered, “I will slay them all,—after certain days and certain things have come to pass. Every one of them save those you spare, every one of them shall be slain.”

“What the Master wishes to kill, the Master kills,” said the Dog-man with a certain satisfaction in his voice.

“And that their sins may grow,” I said, “let them live in their folly until their time is ripe. Let them not know that I am the Master.”

“The Master‘s will is sweet,” said the Dog-man, with the ready tact of his canine blood.

“But one has sinned,” said I. “Him I will kill, whenever I may meet him. When I say to you, ‘That is he,’ see that you fall upon him. And now I will go to the men and women who are assembled together.”

For a moment the opening of the hut was blackened by the exit of the Dog-man. Then I followed and stood up, almost in the exact spot where I had been when I had heard Moreau and his staghound pursuing me. But now it was night, and all the miasmatic ravine about me was black; and beyond, instead of a green, sunlit slope, I saw a red fire, before which hunched, grotesque figures moved to and fro. Farther were the thick trees, a bank of darkness, fringed above with the black lace of the upper branches. The moon was just riding up on the edge of the ravine, and like a bar across its face drove the spire of vapour that was for ever streaming from the fumaroles of the island.

“Walk by me,” said I, nerving myself; and side by side we walked down the narrow way, taking little heed of the dim Things that peered at us out of the huts.

None about the fire attempted to salute me. Most of them disregarded me, ostentatiously. I looked round for the Hyena-swine, but he was not there. Altogether, perhaps twenty of the Beast Folk squatted, staring into the fire or talking to one another.

“He is dead, he is dead! the Master is dead!” said the voice of the Ape-man to the right of me. “The House of Pain—there is no House of Pain!”

“He is not dead,” said I, in a loud voice. “Even now he watches us!”

This startled them. Twenty pairs of eyes regarded me.

“The House of Pain is gone,” said I. “It will come again. The Master you cannot see; yet even now he listens among you.”

“True, true!” said the Dog-man.

They were staggered at my assurance. An animal may be ferocious and cunning enough, but it takes a real man to tell a lie.

“The Man with the Bandaged Arm speaks a strange thing,” said one of the Beast Folk.

“I tell you it is so,” I said. “The Master and the House of Pain will come again. Woe be to him who breaks the Law!”

They looked curiously at one another. With an affectation of indifference I began to chop idly at the ground in front of me with my hatchet. They looked, I noticed, at the deep cuts I made in the turf.

Then the Satyr raised a doubt. I answered him. Then one of the dappled things objected, and an animated discussion sprang up round the fire. Every moment I began to feel more convinced of my present security. I talked now without the catching in my breath, due to the intensity of my excitement, that had troubled me at first. In the course of about an hour I had really convinced several of the Beast Folk of the truth of my assertions, and talked most of the others into a dubious state. I kept a sharp eye for my enemy the Hyena-swine, but he never appeared. Every now and then a suspicious movement would startle me, but my confidence grew rapidly. Then as the moon crept down from the zenith, one by one the listeners began to yawn (showing the oddest teeth in the light of the sinking fire), and first one and then another retired towards the dens in the ravine; and I, dreading the silence and darkness, went with them, knowing I was safer with several of them than with one alone.

In this manner began the longer part of my sojourn upon this Island of Doctor Moreau. But from that night until the end came, there was but one thing happened to tell save a series of innumerable small unpleasant details and the fretting of an incessant uneasiness. So that I prefer to make no chronicle for that gap of time, to tell only one cardinal incident of the ten months I spent as an intimate of these half-humanised brutes. There is much that sticks in my memory that I could write,—things that I would cheerfully give my right hand to forget; but they do not help the telling of the story.

In the retrospect it is strange to remember how soon I fell in with these monsters’ ways, and gained my confidence again. I had my quarrels with them of course, and could show some of their teeth-marks still; but they soon gained a wholesome respect for my trick of throwing stones and for the bite of my hatchet. And my Saint-Bernard-man’s loyalty was of infinite service to me. I found their simple scale of honour was based mainly on the capacity for inflicting trenchant wounds. Indeed, I may say—without vanity, I hope—that I held something like pre-eminence among them. One or two, whom in a rare access of high spirits I had scarred rather badly, bore me a grudge; but it vented itself chiefly behind my back, and at a safe distance from my missiles, in grimaces.

The Hyena-swine avoided me, and I was always on the alert for him. My inseparable Dog-man hated and dreaded him intensely. I really believe that was at the root of the brute‘s attachment to me. It was soon evident to me that the former monster had tasted blood, and gone the way of the Leopard-man. He formed a lair somewhere in the forest, and became solitary. Once I tried to induce the Beast Folk to hunt him, but I lacked the authority to make them co-operate for one end. Again and again I tried to approach his den and come upon him unaware; but always he was too acute for me, and saw or winded me and got away. He too made every forest pathway dangerous to me and my ally with his lurking ambuscades. The Dog-man scarcely dared to leave my side.

In the first month or so the Beast Folk, compared with their latter condition, were human enough, and for one or two besides my canine friend I even conceived a friendly tolerance. The little pink sloth-creature displayed an odd affection for me, and took to following me about. The Monkey-man bored me, however; he assumed, on the strength of his five digits, that he was my equal, and was for ever jabbering at me,—jabbering the most arrant nonsense. One thing about him entertained me a little: he had a fantastic trick of coining new words. He had an idea, I believe, that to gabble about names that meant nothing was the proper use of speech. He called it “Big Thinks” to distinguish it from “Little Thinks,” the sane every-day interests of life. If ever I made a remark he did not understand, he would praise it very much, ask me to say it again, learn it by heart, and go off repeating it, with a word wrong here or there, to all the milder of the Beast People. He thought nothing of what was plain and comprehensible. I invented some very curious “Big Thinks” for his especial use. I think now that he was the silliest creature I ever met; he had developed in the most wonderful way the distinctive silliness of man without losing one jot of the natural folly of a monkey.

This, I say, was in the earlier weeks of my solitude among these brutes. During that time they respected the usage established by the Law, and behaved with general decorum. Once I found another rabbit torn to pieces,—by the Hyena-swine, I am assured,—but that was all. It was about May when I first distinctly perceived a growing difference in their speech and carriage, a growing coarseness of articulation, a growing disinclination to talk. My Monkey-man’s jabber multiplied in volume, but grew less and less comprehensible, more and more simian. Some of the others seemed altogether slipping their hold upon speech, though they still understood what I said to them at that time. (Can you imagine language, once clear-cut and exact, softening and guttering, losing shape and import, becoming mere limps of sound again?) And they walked erect with an increasing difficulty. Though they evidently felt ashamed of themselves, every now and then I would come upon one or another running on toes and finger-tips, and quite unable to recover the vertical attitude. They held things more clumsily; drinking by suction, feeding by gnawing, grew commoner every day. I realised more keenly than ever what Moreau had told me about the “stubborn beast-flesh.” They were reverting, and reverting very rapidly.

Some of them—the pioneers in this, I noticed with some surprise, were all females—began to disregard the injunction of decency, deliberately for the most part. Others even attempted public outrages upon the institution of monogamy. The tradition of the Law was clearly losing its force. I cannot pursue this disagreeable subject.

My Dog-man imperceptibly slipped back to the dog again; day by day he became dumb, quadrupedal, hairy. I scarcely noticed the transition from the companion on my right hand to the lurching dog at my side.

As the carelessness and disorganisation increased from day to day, the lane of dwelling-places, at no time very sweet, became so loathsome that I left it, and going across the island made myself a hovel of boughs amid the black ruins of Moreau’s enclosure. Some memory of pain, I found, still made that place the safest from the Beast Folk.

It would be impossible to detail every step of the lapsing of these monsters,—to tell how, day by day, the human semblance left them; how they gave up bandagings and wrappings, abandoned at last every stitch of clothing; how the hair began to spread over the exposed limbs; how their foreheads fell away and their faces projected; how the quasi-human intimacy I had permitted myself with some of them in the first month of my loneliness became a shuddering horror to recall.

The change was slow and inevitable. For them and for me it came without any definite shock. I still went among them in safety, because no jolt in the downward glide had released the increasing charge of explosive animalism that ousted the human day by day. But I began to fear that soon now that shock must come. My Saint-Bernard-brute followed me to the enclosure every night, and his vigilance enabled me to sleep at times in something like peace. The little pink sloth-thing became shy and left me, to crawl back to its natural life once more among the tree-branches. We were in just the state of equilibrium that would remain in one of those “Happy Family” cages which animal-tamers exhibit, if the tamer were to leave it for ever.

Of course these creatures did not decline into such beasts as the reader has seen in zoölogical gardens,—into ordinary bears, wolves, tigers, oxen, swine, and apes. There was still something strange about each; in each Moreau had blended this animal with that. One perhaps was ursine chiefly, another feline chiefly, another bovine chiefly; but each was tainted with other creatures,—a kind of generalised animalism appearing through the specific dispositions. And the dwindling shreds of the humanity still startled me every now and then,—a momentary recrudescence of speech perhaps, an unexpected dexterity of the fore-feet, a pitiful attempt to walk erect.

I too must have undergone strange changes. My clothes hung about me as yellow rags, through whose rents showed the tanned skin. My hair grew long, and became matted together. I am told that even now my eyes have a strange brightness, a swift alertness of movement.

At first I spent the daylight hours on the southward beach watching for a ship, hoping and praying for a ship. I counted on the “Ipecacuanha” returning as the year wore on; but she never came. Five times I saw sails, and thrice smoke; but nothing ever touched the island. I always had a bonfire ready, but no doubt the volcanic reputation of the island was taken to account for that.

It was only about September or October that I began to think of making a raft. By that time my arm had healed, and both my hands were at my service again. At first, I found my helplessness appalling. I had never done any carpentry or such-like work in my life, and I spent day after day in experimental chopping and binding among the trees. I had no ropes, and could hit on nothing wherewith to make ropes; none of the abundant creepers seemed limber or strong enough, and with all my litter of scientific education I could not devise any way of making them so. I spent more than a fortnight grubbing among the black ruins of the enclosure and on the beach where the boats had been burnt, looking for nails and other stray pieces of metal that might prove of service. Now and then some Beast-creature would watch me, and go leaping off when I called to it. There came a season of thunder-storms and heavy rain, which greatly retarded my work; but at last the raft was completed.

I was delighted with it. But with a certain lack of practical sense which has always been my bane, I had made it a mile or more from the sea; and before I had dragged it down to the beach the thing had fallen to pieces. Perhaps it is as well that I was saved from launching it; but at the time my misery at my failure was so acute that for some days I simply moped on the beach, and stared at the water and thought of death.

I did not, however, mean to die, and an incident occurred that warned me unmistakably of the folly of letting the days pass so,—for each fresh day was fraught with increasing danger from the Beast People.

I was lying in the shade of the enclosure wall, staring out to sea, when I was startled by something cold touching the skin of my heel, and starting round found the little pink sloth-creature blinking into my face. He had long since lost speech and active movement, and the lank hair of the little brute grew thicker every day and his stumpy claws more askew. He made a moaning noise when he saw he had attracted my attention, went a little way towards the bushes and looked back at me.

At first I did not understand, but presently it occurred to me that he wished me to follow him; and this I did at last,—slowly, for the day was hot. When we reached the trees he clambered into them, for he could travel better among their swinging creepers than on the ground. And suddenly in a trampled space I came upon a ghastly group. My Saint-Bernard-creature lay on the ground, dead; and near his body crouched the Hyena-swine, gripping the quivering flesh with its misshapen claws, gnawing at it, and snarling with delight. As I approached, the monster lifted its glaring eyes to mine, its lips went trembling back from its red-stained teeth, and it growled menacingly. It was not afraid and not ashamed; the last vestige of the human taint had vanished. I advanced a step farther, stopped, and pulled out my revolver. At last I had him face to face.

The brute made no sign of retreat; but its ears went back, its hair bristled, and its body crouched together. I aimed between the eyes and fired. As I did so, the Thing rose straight at me in a leap, and I was knocked over like a ninepin. It clutched at me with its crippled hand, and struck me in the face. Its spring carried it over me. I fell under the hind part of its body; but luckily I had hit as I meant, and it had died even as it leapt. I crawled out from under its unclean weight and stood up trembling, staring at its quivering body. That danger at least was over; but this, I knew, was only the first of the series of relapses that must come.

I burnt both of the bodies on a pyre of brushwood; but after that I saw that unless I left the island my death was only a question of time. The Beast People by that time had, with one or two exceptions, left the ravine and made themselves lairs according to their taste among the thickets of the island. Few prowled by day, most of them slept, and the island might have seemed deserted to a new-comer; but at night the air was hideous with their calls and howling. I had half a mind to make a massacre of them; to build traps, or fight them with my knife. Had I possessed sufficient cartridges, I should not have hesitated to begin the killing. There could now be scarcely a score left of the dangerous carnivores; the braver of these were already dead. After the death of this poor dog of mine, my last friend, I too adopted to some extent the practice of slumbering in the daytime in order to be on my guard at night. I rebuilt my den in the walls of the enclosure, with such a narrow opening that anything attempting to enter must necessarily make a considerable noise. The creatures had lost the art of fire too, and recovered their fear of it. I turned once more, almost passionately now, to hammering together stakes and branches to form a raft for my escape.

I found a thousand difficulties. I am an extremely unhandy man (my schooling was over before the days of Slojd); but most of the requirements of a raft I met at last in some clumsy, circuitous way or other, and this time I took care of the strength. The only insurmountable obstacle was that I had no vessel to contain the water I should need if I floated forth upon these untravelled seas. I would have even tried pottery, but the island contained no clay. I used to go moping about the island, trying with all my might to solve this one last difficulty. Sometimes I would give way to wild outbursts of rage, and hack and splinter some unlucky tree in my intolerable vexation. But I could think of nothing.

And then came a day, a wonderful day, which I spent in ecstasy. I saw a sail to the southwest, a small sail like that of a little schooner; and forthwith I lit a great pile of brushwood, and stood by it in the heat of it, and the heat of the midday sun, watching. All day I watched that sail, eating or drinking nothing, so that my head reeled; and the Beasts came and glared at me, and seemed to wonder, and went away. It was still distant when night came and swallowed it up; and all night I toiled to keep my blaze bright and high, and the eyes of the Beasts shone out of the darkness, marvelling. In the dawn the sail was nearer, and I saw it was the dirty lug-sail of a small boat. But it sailed strangely. My eyes were weary with watching, and I peered and could not believe them. Two men were in the boat, sitting low down,—one by the bows, the other at the rudder. The head was not kept to the wind; it yawed and fell away.

As the day grew brighter, I began waving the last rag of my jacket to them; but they did not notice me, and sat still, facing each other. I went to the lowest point of the low headland, and gesticulated and shouted. There was no response, and the boat kept on her aimless course, making slowly, very slowly, for the bay. Suddenly a great white bird flew up out of the boat, and neither of the men stirred nor noticed it; it circled round, and then came sweeping overhead with its strong wings outspread.

Then I stopped shouting, and sat down on the headland and rested my chin on my hands and stared. Slowly, slowly, the boat drove past towards the west. I would have swum out to it, but something—a cold, vague fear—kept me back. In the afternoon the tide stranded the boat, and left it a hundred yards or so to the westward of the ruins of the enclosure. The men in it were dead, had been dead so long that they fell to pieces when I tilted the boat on its side and dragged them out. One had a shock of red hair, like the captain of the “Ipecacuanha,” and a dirty white cap lay in the bottom of the boat.

As I stood beside the boat, three of the Beasts came slinking out of the bushes and sniffing towards me. One of my spasms of disgust came upon me. I thrust the little boat down the beach and clambered on board her. Two of the brutes were Wolf-beasts, and came forward with quivering nostrils and glittering eyes; the third was the horrible nondescript of bear and bull. When I saw them approaching those wretched remains, heard them snarling at one another and caught the gleam of their teeth, a frantic horror succeeded my repulsion. I turned my back upon them, struck the lug and began paddling out to sea. I could not bring myself to look behind me.

I lay, however, between the reef and the island that night, and the next morning went round to the stream and filled the empty keg aboard with water. Then, with such patience as I could command, I collected a quantity of fruit, and waylaid and killed two rabbits with my last three cartridges. While I was doing this I left the boat moored to an inward projection of the reef, for fear of the Beast People.