I strode through the undergrowth that
clothed the ridge behind the house, scarcely heeding
whither I went; passed on through the shadow of a thick
cluster of straight-stemmed trees beyond it, and so
presently found myself some way on the other side
of the ridge, and descending towards a streamlet that
ran through a narrow valley. I paused and listened.
The distance I had come, or the intervening masses
of thicket, deadened any sound that might be coming
from the enclosure. The air was still.
Then with a rustle a rabbit emerged, and went scampering
up the slope before me. I hesitated, and sat
down in the edge of the shade.
The place was a pleasant one.
The rivulet was hidden by the luxuriant vegetation
of the banks save at one point, where I caught a triangular
patch of its glittering water. On the farther
side I saw through a bluish haze a tangle of trees
and creepers, and above these again the luminous blue
of the sky. Here and there a splash of white
or crimson marked the blooming of some trailing epiphyte.
I let my eyes wander over this scene for a while,
and then began to turn over in my mind again the strange
peculiarities of Montgomery’s man. But
it was too hot to think elaborately, and presently
I fell into a tranquil state midway between dozing
and waking.
From this I was aroused, after I know
not how long, by a rustling amidst the greenery on
the other side of the stream. For a moment I
could see nothing but the waving summits of the ferns
and reeds. Then suddenly upon the bank of the
stream appeared Something—at first I could
not distinguish what it was. It bowed its round
head to the water, and began to drink. Then I
saw it was a man, going on all-fours like a beast.
He was clothed in bluish cloth, and was of a copper-coloured
hue, with black hair. It seemed that grotesque
ugliness was an invariable character of these islanders.
I could hear the suck of the water at his lips as
he drank.
I leant forward to see him better,
and a piece of lava, detached by my hand, went pattering
down the slope. He looked up guiltily, and his
eyes met mine. Forthwith he scrambled to his
feet, and stood wiping his clumsy hand across his
mouth and regarding me. His legs were scarcely
half the length of his body. So, staring one
another out of countenance, we remained for perhaps
the space of a minute. Then, stopping to look
back once or twice, he slunk off among the bushes
to the right of me, and I heard the swish of the fronds
grow faint in the distance and die away. Long
after he had disappeared, I remained sitting up staring
in the direction of his retreat. My drowsy tranquillity
had gone.
I was startled by a noise behind me,
and turning suddenly saw the flapping white tail of
a rabbit vanishing up the slope. I jumped to
my feet. The apparition of this grotesque, half-bestial
creature had suddenly populated the stillness of the
afternoon for me. I looked around me rather nervously,
and regretted that I was unarmed. Then I thought
that the man I had just seen had been clothed in bluish
cloth, had not been naked as a savage would have been;
and I tried to persuade myself from that fact that
he was after all probably a peaceful character, that
the dull ferocity of his countenance belied him.
Yet I was greatly disturbed at the
apparition. I walked to the left along the slope,
turning my head about and peering this way and that
among the straight stems of the trees. Why should
a man go on all-fours and drink with his lips?
Presently I heard an animal wailing again, and taking
it to be the puma, I turned about and walked in a
direction diametrically opposite to the sound.
This led me down to the stream, across which I stepped
and pushed my way up through the undergrowth beyond.
I was startled by a great patch of
vivid scarlet on the ground, and going up to it found
it to be a peculiar fungus, branched and corrugated
like a foliaceous lichen, but deliquescing into slime
at the touch; and then in the shadow of some luxuriant
ferns I came upon an unpleasant thing,—the
dead body of a rabbit covered with shining flies,
but still warm and with the head torn off. I
stopped aghast at the sight of the scattered blood.
Here at least was one visitor to the island disposed
of! There were no traces of other violence about
it. It looked as though it had been suddenly
snatched up and killed; and as I stared at the little
furry body came the difficulty of how the thing had
been done. The vague dread that had been in my
mind since I had seen the inhuman face of the man
at the stream grew distincter as I stood there.
I began to realise the hardihood of my expedition among
these unknown people. The thicket about me became
altered to my imagination. Every shadow became
something more than a shadow,—became an
ambush; every rustle became a threat. Invisible
things seemed watching me. I resolved to go back
to the enclosure on the beach. I suddenly turned
away and thrust myself violently, possibly even frantically,
through the bushes, anxious to get a clear space about
me again.
I stopped just in time to prevent
myself emerging upon an open space. It was a
kind of glade in the forest, made by a fall; seedlings
were already starting up to struggle for the vacant
space; and beyond, the dense growth of stems and twining
vines and splashes of fungus and flowers closed in
again. Before me, squatting together upon the
fungoid ruins of a huge fallen tree and still unaware
of my approach, were three grotesque human figures.
One was evidently a female; the other two were men.
They were naked, save for swathings of scarlet cloth
about the middle; and their skins were of a dull pinkish-drab
colour, such as I had seen in no savages before.
They had fat, heavy, chinless faces, retreating foreheads,
and a scant bristly hair upon their heads. I
never saw such bestial-looking creatures.
They were talking, or at least one
of the men was talking to the other two, and all three
had been too closely interested to heed the rustling
of my approach. They swayed their heads and
shoulders from side to side. The speaker’s
words came thick and sloppy, and though I could hear
them distinctly I could not distinguish what he said.
He seemed to me to be reciting some complicated gibberish.
Presently his articulation became shriller, and spreading
his hands he rose to his feet. At that the others
began to gibber in unison, also rising to their feet,
spreading their hands and swaying their bodies in
rhythm with their chant. I noticed then the abnormal
shortness of their legs, and their lank, clumsy feet.
All three began slowly to circle round, raising and
stamping their feet and waving their arms; a kind
of tune crept into their rhythmic recitation, and
a refrain,—“Aloola,” or “Balloola,”
it sounded like. Their eyes began to sparkle,
and their ugly faces to brighten, with an expression
of strange pleasure. Saliva dripped from their
lipless mouths.
Suddenly, as I watched their grotesque
and unaccountable gestures, I perceived clearly for
the first time what it was that had offended me, what
had given me the two inconsistent and conflicting impressions
of utter strangeness and yet of the strangest familiarity.
The three creatures engaged in this mysterious rite
were human in shape, and yet human beings with the
strangest air about them of some familiar animal.
Each of these creatures, despite its human form,
its rag of clothing, and the rough humanity of its
bodily form, had woven into it—into its
movements, into the expression of its countenance,
into its whole presence—some now irresistible
suggestion of a hog, a swinish taint, the unmistakable
mark of the beast.
I stood overcome by this amazing realisation
and then the most horrible questionings came rushing
into my mind. They began leaping in the air,
first one and then the other, whooping and grunting.
Then one slipped, and for a moment was on all-fours,—to
recover, indeed, forthwith. But that transitory
gleam of the true animalism of these monsters was
enough.
I turned as noiselessly as possible,
and becoming every now and then rigid with the fear
of being discovered, as a branch cracked or a leaf
rustled, I pushed back into the bushes. It was
long before I grew bolder, and dared to move freely.
My only idea for the moment was to get away from these
foul beings, and I scarcely noticed that I had emerged
upon a faint pathway amidst the trees. Then suddenly
traversing a little glade, I saw with an unpleasant
start two clumsy legs among the trees, walking with
noiseless footsteps parallel with my course, and perhaps
thirty yards away from me. The head and upper
part of the body were hidden by a tangle of creeper.
I stopped abruptly, hoping the creature did not see
me. The feet stopped as I did. So nervous
was I that I controlled an impulse to headlong flight
with the utmost difficulty. Then looking hard,
I distinguished through the interlacing network the
head and body of the brute I had seen drinking.
He moved his head. There was an emerald flash
in his eyes as he glanced at me from the shadow of
the trees, a half-luminous colour that vanished as
he turned his head again. He was motionless for
a moment, and then with a noiseless tread began running
through the green confusion. In another moment
he had vanished behind some bushes. I could not
see him, but I felt that he had stopped and was watching
me again.
What on earth was he,—man
or beast? What did he want with me? I had
no weapon, not even a stick. Flight would be
madness. At any rate the Thing, whatever it was,
lacked the courage to attack me. Setting my teeth
hard, I walked straight towards him. I was anxious
not to show the fear that seemed chilling my backbone.
I pushed through a tangle of tall white-flowered bushes,
and saw him twenty paces beyond, looking over his shoulder
at me and hesitating. I advanced a step or two,
looking steadfastly into his eyes.
“Who are you?” said I.
He tried to meet my gaze. “No!”
he said suddenly, and turning went bounding away from
me through the undergrowth. Then he turned and
stared at me again. His eyes shone brightly out
of the dusk under the trees.
My heart was in my mouth; but I felt
my only chance was bluff, and walked steadily towards
him. He turned again, and vanished into the
dusk. Once more I thought I caught the glint
of his eyes, and that was all.
For the first time I realised how
the lateness of the hour might affect me. The
sun had set some minutes since, the swift dusk of
the tropics was already fading out of the eastern sky,
and a pioneer moth fluttered silently by my head.
Unless I would spend the night among the unknown
dangers of the mysterious forest, I must hasten back
to the enclosure. The thought of a return to
that pain-haunted refuge was extremely disagreeable,
but still more so was the idea of being overtaken
in the open by darkness and all that darkness might
conceal. I gave one more look into the blue
shadows that had swallowed up this odd creature, and
then retraced my way down the slope towards the stream,
going as I judged in the direction from which I had
come.
I walked eagerly, my mind confused
with many things, and presently found myself in a
level place among scattered trees. The colourless
clearness that comes after the sunset flush was darkling;
the blue sky above grew momentarily deeper, and the
little stars one by one pierced the attenuated light;
the interspaces of the trees, the gaps in the further
vegetation, that had been hazy blue in the daylight,
grew black and mysterious. I pushed on.
The colour vanished from the world. The tree-tops
rose against the luminous blue sky in inky silhouette,
and all below that outline melted into one formless
blackness. Presently the trees grew thinner,
and the shrubby undergrowth more abundant. Then
there was a desolate space covered with a white sand,
and then another expanse of tangled bushes. I
did not remember crossing the sand-opening before.
I began to be tormented by a faint rustling upon my
right hand. I thought at first it was fancy,
for whenever I stopped there was silence, save for
the evening breeze in the tree-tops. Then when
I turned to hurry on again there was an echo to my
footsteps.
I turned away from the thickets, keeping
to the more open ground, and endeavouring by sudden
turns now and then to surprise something in the act
of creeping upon me. I saw nothing, and nevertheless
my sense of another presence grew steadily. I
increased my pace, and after some time came to a slight
ridge, crossed it, and turned sharply, regarding it
steadfastly from the further side. It came out
black and clear-cut against the darkling sky; and
presently a shapeless lump heaved up momentarily against
the sky-line and vanished again. I felt assured
now that my tawny-faced antagonist was stalking me
once more; and coupled with that was another unpleasant
realisation, that I had lost my way.
For a time I hurried on hopelessly
perplexed, and pursued by that stealthy approach.
Whatever it was, the Thing either lacked the courage
to attack me, or it was waiting to take me at some
disadvantage. I kept studiously to the open.
At times I would turn and listen; and presently I
had half persuaded myself that my pursuer had abandoned
the chase, or was a mere creation of my disordered
imagination. Then I heard the sound of the sea.
I quickened my footsteps almost into a run, and immediately
there was a stumble in my rear.
I turned suddenly, and stared at the
uncertain trees behind me. One black shadow seemed
to leap into another. I listened, rigid, and
heard nothing but the creep of the blood in my ears.
I thought that my nerves were unstrung, and that my
imagination was tricking me, and turned resolutely
towards the sound of the sea again.
In a minute or so the trees grew thinner,
and I emerged upon a bare, low headland running out
into the sombre water. The night was calm and
clear, and the reflection of the growing multitude
of the stars shivered in the tranquil heaving of the
sea. Some way out, the wash upon an irregular
band of reef shone with a pallid light of its own.
Westward I saw the zodiacal light mingling with the
yellow brilliance of the evening star. The coast
fell away from me to the east, and westward it was
hidden by the shoulder of the cape. Then I recalled
the fact that Moreau’s beach lay to the west.
A twig snapped behind me, and there
was a rustle. I turned, and stood facing the
dark trees. I could see nothing—or
else I could see too much. Every dark form in
the dimness had its ominous quality, its peculiar
suggestion of alert watchfulness. So I stood
for perhaps a minute, and then, with an eye to the
trees still, turned westward to cross the headland;
and as I moved, one among the lurking shadows moved
to follow me.
My heart beat quickly. Presently
the broad sweep of a bay to the westward became visible,
and I halted again. The noiseless shadow halted
a dozen yards from me. A little point of light
shone on the further bend of the curve, and the grey
sweep of the sandy beach lay faint under the starlight.
Perhaps two miles away was that little point of light.
To get to the beach I should have to go through the
trees where the shadows lurked, and down a bushy slope.
I could see the Thing rather more
distinctly now. It was no animal, for it stood
erect. At that I opened my mouth to speak, and
found a hoarse phlegm choked my voice. I tried
again, and shouted, “Who is there?” There
was no answer. I advanced a step. The Thing
did not move, only gathered itself together.
My foot struck a stone. That gave me an idea.
Without taking my eyes off the black form before
me, I stooped and picked up this lump of rock; but
at my motion the Thing turned abruptly as a dog might
have done, and slunk obliquely into the further darkness.
Then I recalled a schoolboy expedient against big
dogs, and twisted the rock into my handkerchief, and
gave this a turn round my wrist. I heard a movement
further off among the shadows, as if the Thing was
in retreat. Then suddenly my tense excitement
gave way; I broke into a profuse perspiration and
fell a-trembling, with my adversary routed and this
weapon in my hand.
It was some time before I could summon
resolution to go down through the trees and bushes
upon the flank of the headland to the beach.
At last I did it at a run; and as I emerged from the
thicket upon the sand, I heard some other body come
crashing after me. At that I completely lost
my head with fear, and began running along the sand.
Forthwith there came the swift patter of soft feet
in pursuit. I gave a wild cry, and redoubled
my pace. Some dim, black things about three or
four times the size of rabbits went running or hopping
up from the beach towards the bushes as I passed.
So long as I live, I shall remember
the terror of that chase. I ran near the water’s
edge, and heard every now and then the splash of the
feet that gained upon me. Far away, hopelessly
far, was the yellow light. All the night about
us was black and still. Splash, splash, came
the pursuing feet, nearer and nearer. I felt
my breath going, for I was quite out of training; it
whooped as I drew it, and I felt a pain like a knife
at my side. I perceived the Thing would come
up with me long before I reached the enclosure, and,
desperate and sobbing for my breath, I wheeled round
upon it and struck at it as it came up to me,—struck
with all my strength. The stone came out of the
sling of the handkerchief as I did so. As I turned,
the Thing, which had been running on all-fours, rose
to its feet, and the missile fell fair on its left
temple. The skull rang loud, and the animal-man
blundered into me, thrust me back with its hands,
and went staggering past me to fall headlong upon
the sand with its face in the water; and there it lay
still.
I could not bring myself to approach
that black heap. I left it there, with the water
rippling round it, under the still stars, and giving
it a wide berth pursued my way towards the yellow glow
of the house; and presently, with a positive effect
of relief, came the pitiful moaning of the puma, the
sound that had originally driven me out to explore
this mysterious island. At that, though I was
faint and horribly fatigued, I gathered together all
my strength, and began running again towards the light.
I thought I heard a voice calling me.