The chanting died down, giving place to a clamour; then it began again,
and suddenly broke into a tumult. I heard cries of, “More! more!” a
sound like quarrelling, and a sudden wild shriek. The quality of the
sounds changed so greatly that it arrested my attention. I went out
into the yard and listened. Then cutting like a knife across the
confusion came the crack of a revolver.
I rushed at once through my room to the little doorway. As I did so I
heard some of the packing-cases behind me go sliding down and smash
together with a clatter of glass on the floor of the shed. But I did
not heed these. I flung the door open and looked out.
Up the beach by the boathouse a bonfire was burning, raining up sparks
into the indistinctness of the dawn. Around this struggled a mass of
black figures. I heard Montgomery call my name. I began to run at once
towards this fire, revolver in hand. I saw the pink tongue of
Montgomery’s pistol lick out once, close to the ground. He was down. I
shouted with all my strength and fired into the air. I heard some one
cry, “The Master!” The knotted black struggle broke into scattering
units, the fire leapt and sank down. The crowd of Beast People fled in
sudden panic before me, up the beach. In my excitement I fired at their
retreating backs as they disappeared among the bushes. Then I turned to
the black heaps upon the ground.
Montgomery lay on his back, with the hairy-grey Beast-man sprawling
across his body. The brute was dead, but still gripping Montgomery’s
throat with its curving claws. Near by lay M’ling on his face and quite
still, his neck bitten open and the upper part of the smashed
brandy-bottle in his hand. Two other figures lay near the fire,—the one
motionless, the other groaning fitfully, every now and then raising its
head slowly, then dropping it again.
I caught hold of the grey man and pulled him off Montgomery’s body; his
claws drew down the torn coat reluctantly as I dragged him away.
Montgomery was dark in the face and scarcely breathing. I splashed
sea-water on his face and pillowed his head on my rolled-up coat.
M’ling was dead. The wounded creature by the fire—it was a Wolf-brute
with a bearded grey face—lay, I found, with the fore part of its body
upon the still glowing timber. The wretched thing was injured so
dreadfully that in mercy I blew its brains out at once. The other brute
was one of the Bull-men swathed in white. He too was dead. The rest of
the Beast People had vanished from the beach.
I went to Montgomery again and knelt beside him, cursing my ignorance
of medicine. The fire beside me had sunk down, and only charred beams
of timber glowing at the central ends and mixed with a grey ash of
brushwood remained. I wondered casually where Montgomery had got his
wood. Then I saw that the dawn was upon us. The sky had grown brighter,
the setting moon was becoming pale and opaque in the luminous blue of
the day. The sky to the eastward was rimmed with red.
Suddenly I heard a thud and a hissing behind me, and, looking round,
sprang to my feet with a cry of horror. Against the warm dawn great
tumultuous masses of black smoke were boiling up out of the enclosure,
and through their stormy darkness shot flickering threads of blood-red
flame. Then the thatched roof caught. I saw the curving charge of the
flames across the sloping straw. A spurt of fire jetted from the window
of my room.
I knew at once what had happened. I remembered the crash I had heard.
When I had rushed out to Montgomery’s assistance, I had overturned the
lamp.
The hopelessness of saving any of the contents of the enclosure stared
me in the face. My mind came back to my plan of flight, and turning
swiftly I looked to see where the two boats lay upon the beach. They
were gone! Two axes lay upon the sands beside me; chips and splinters
were scattered broadcast, and the ashes of the bonfire were blackening
and smoking under the dawn. Montgomery had burnt the boats to revenge
himself upon me and prevent our return to mankind!
A sudden convulsion of rage shook me. I was almost moved to batter his
foolish head in, as he lay there helpless at my feet. Then suddenly his
hand moved, so feebly, so pitifully, that my wrath vanished. He
groaned, and opened his eyes for a minute. I knelt down beside him and
raised his head. He opened his eyes again, staring silently at the
dawn, and then they met mine. The lids fell.
“Sorry,” he said presently, with an effort. He seemed trying to think.
“The last,” he murmured, “the last of this silly universe. What a
mess—”
I listened. His head fell helplessly to one side. I thought some drink
might revive him; but there was neither drink nor vessel in which to
bring drink at hand. He seemed suddenly heavier. My heart went cold. I
bent down to his face, put my hand through the rent in his blouse. He
was dead; and even as he died a line of white heat, the limb of the
sun, rose eastward beyond the projection of the bay, splashing its
radiance across the sky and turning the dark sea into a weltering
tumult of dazzling light. It fell like a glory upon his death-shrunken
face.
I let his head fall gently upon the rough pillow I had made for him,
and stood up. Before me was the glittering desolation of the sea, the
awful solitude upon which I had already suffered so much; behind me the
island, hushed under the dawn, its Beast People silent and unseen. The
enclosure, with all its provisions and ammunition, burnt noisily, with
sudden gusts of flame, a fitful crackling, and now and then a crash.
The heavy smoke drove up the beach away from me, rolling low over the
distant tree-tops towards the huts in the ravine. Beside me were the
charred vestiges of the boats and these five dead bodies.
Then out of the bushes came three Beast People, with hunched shoulders,
protruding heads, misshapen hands awkwardly held, and inquisitive,
unfriendly eyes, and advanced towards me with hesitating gestures.
XX.
ALONE WITH THE BEAST FOLK.
I faced these people, facing my fate in them, single-handed
now,—literally single-handed, for I had a broken arm. In my pocket was
a revolver with two empty chambers. Among the chips scattered about the
beach lay the two axes that had been used to chop up the boats. The
tide was creeping in behind me. There was nothing for it but courage. I
looked squarely into the faces of the advancing monsters. They avoided
my eyes, and their quivering nostrils investigated the bodies that lay
beyond me on the beach. I took half-a-dozen steps, picked up the
blood-stained whip that lay beneath the body of the Wolf-man, and
cracked it. They stopped and stared at me.
“Salute!” said I. “Bow down!”
They hesitated. One bent his knees. I repeated my command, with my
heart in my mouth, and advanced upon them. One knelt, then the other
two.
I turned and walked towards the dead bodies, keeping my face towards
the three kneeling Beast Men, very much as an actor passing up the
stage faces the audience.
“They broke the Law,” said I, putting my foot on the Sayer of the Law.
“They have been slain,—even the Sayer of the Law; even the Other with
the Whip. Great is the Law! Come and see.”
“None escape,” said one of them, advancing and peering.
“None escape,” said I. “Therefore hear and do as I command.” They stood
up, looking questioningly at one another.
“Stand there,” said I.
I picked up the hatchets and swung them by their heads from the sling
of my arm; turned Montgomery over; picked up his revolver still loaded
in two chambers, and bending down to rummage, found half-a-dozen
cartridges in his pocket.
“Take him,” said I, standing up again and pointing with the whip; “take
him, and carry him out and cast him into the sea.”
They came forward, evidently still afraid of Montgomery, but still more
afraid of my cracking red whip-lash; and after some fumbling and
hesitation, some whip-cracking and shouting, they lifted him gingerly,
carried him down to the beach, and went splashing into the dazzling
welter of the sea.
“On!” said I, “on! Carry him far.”
They went in up to their armpits and stood regarding me.
“Let go,” said I; and the body of Montgomery vanished with a splash.
Something seemed to tighten across my chest.
“Good!” said I, with a break in my voice; and they came back, hurrying
and fearful, to the margin of the water, leaving long wakes of black in
the silver. At the water’s edge they stopped, turning and glaring into
the sea as though they presently expected Montgomery to arise therefrom
and exact vengeance.
“Now these,” said I, pointing to the other bodies.
They took care not to approach the place where they had thrown
Montgomery into the water, but instead, carried the four dead Beast
People slantingly along the beach for perhaps a hundred yards before
they waded out and cast them away.
As I watched them disposing of the mangled remains of M’ling, I heard a
light footfall behind me, and turning quickly saw the big Hyena-swine
perhaps a dozen yards away. His head was bent down, his bright eyes
were fixed upon me, his stumpy hands clenched and held close by his
side. He stopped in this crouching attitude when I turned, his eyes a
little averted.
For a moment we stood eye to eye. I dropped the whip and snatched at
the pistol in my pocket; for I meant to kill this brute, the most
formidable of any left now upon the island, at the first excuse. It may
seem treacherous, but so I was resolved. I was far more afraid of him
than of any other two of the Beast Folk. His continued life was I knew
a threat against mine.
I was perhaps a dozen seconds collecting myself. Then cried I, “Salute!
Bow down!”
His teeth flashed upon me in a snarl. “Who are _you_ that I should—”
Perhaps a little too spasmodically I drew my revolver, aimed quickly
and fired. I heard him yelp, saw him run sideways and turn, knew I had
missed, and clicked back the cock with my thumb for the next shot. But
he was already running headlong, jumping from side to side, and I dared
not risk another miss. Every now and then he looked back at me over his
shoulder. He went slanting along the beach, and vanished beneath the
driving masses of dense smoke that were still pouring out from the
burning enclosure. For some time I stood staring after him. I turned to
my three obedient Beast Folk again and signalled them to drop the body
they still carried. Then I went back to the place by the fire where the
bodies had fallen and kicked the sand until all the brown blood-stains
were absorbed and hidden.
I dismissed my three serfs with a wave of the hand, and went up the
beach into the thickets. I carried my pistol in my hand, my whip thrust
with the hatchets in the sling of my arm. I was anxious to be alone, to
think out the position in which I was now placed. A dreadful thing that
I was only beginning to realise was, that over all this island there
was now no safe place where I could be alone and secure to rest or
sleep. I had recovered strength amazingly since my landing, but I was
still inclined to be nervous and to break down under any great stress.
I felt that I ought to cross the island and establish myself with the
Beast People, and make myself secure in their confidence. But my heart
failed me. I went back to the beach, and turning eastward past the
burning enclosure, made for a point where a shallow spit of coral sand
ran out towards the reef. Here I could sit down and think, my back to
the sea and my face against any surprise. And there I sat, chin on
knees, the sun beating down upon my head and unspeakable dread in my
mind, plotting how I could live on against the hour of my rescue (if
ever rescue came). I tried to review the whole situation as calmly as I
could, but it was difficult to clear the thing of emotion.
I began turning over in my mind the reason of Montgomery’s despair.
“They will change,” he said; “they are sure to change.” And Moreau,
what was it that Moreau had said? “The stubborn beast-flesh grows day
by day back again.” Then I came round to the Hyena-swine. I felt sure
that if I did not kill that brute, he would kill me. The Sayer of the
Law was dead: worse luck. They knew now that we of the Whips could be
killed even as they themselves were killed. Were they peering at me
already out of the green masses of ferns and palms over yonder,
watching until I came within their spring? Were they plotting against
me? What was the Hyena-swine telling them? My imagination was running
away with me into a morass of unsubstantial fears.
My thoughts were disturbed by a crying of sea-birds hurrying towards
some black object that had been stranded by the waves on the beach near
the enclosure. I knew what that object was, but I had not the heart to
go back and drive them off. I began walking along the beach in the
opposite direction, designing to come round the eastward corner of the
island and so approach the ravine of the huts, without traversing the
possible ambuscades of the thickets.
Perhaps half a mile along the beach I became aware of one of my three
Beast Folk advancing out of the landward bushes towards me. I was now
so nervous with my own imaginings that I immediately drew my revolver.
Even the propitiatory gestures of the creature failed to disarm me. He
hesitated as he approached.
“Go away!” cried I.
There was something very suggestive of a dog in the cringing attitude
of the creature. It retreated a little way, very like a dog being sent
home, and stopped, looking at me imploringly with canine brown eyes.
“Go away,” said I. “Do not come near me.”
“May I not come near you?” it said.
“No; go away,” I insisted, and snapped my whip. Then putting my whip in
my teeth, I stooped for a stone, and with that threat drove the
creature away.
So in solitude I came round by the ravine of the Beast People, and
hiding among the weeds and reeds that separated this crevice from the
sea I watched such of them as appeared, trying to judge from their
gestures and appearance how the death of Moreau and Montgomery and the
destruction of the House of Pain had affected them. I know now the
folly of my cowardice. Had I kept my courage up to the level of the
dawn, had I not allowed it to ebb away in solitary thought, I might
have grasped the vacant sceptre of Moreau and ruled over the Beast
People. As it was I lost the opportunity, and sank to the position of a
mere leader among my fellows.
Towards noon certain of them came and squatted basking in the hot sand.
The imperious voices of hunger and thirst prevailed over my dread. I
came out of the bushes, and, revolver in hand, walked down towards
these seated figures. One, a Wolf-woman, turned her head and stared at
me, and then the others. None attempted to rise or salute me. I felt
too faint and weary to insist, and I let the moment pass.
“I want food,” said I, almost apologetically, and drawing near.
“There is food in the huts,” said an Ox-boar-man, drowsily, and looking
away from me.
I passed them, and went down into the shadow and odours of the almost
deserted ravine. In an empty hut I feasted on some specked and
half-decayed fruit; and then after I had propped some branches and
sticks about the opening, and placed myself with my face towards it and
my hand upon my revolver, the exhaustion of the last thirty hours
claimed its own, and I fell into a light slumber, hoping that the
flimsy barricade I had erected would cause sufficient noise in its
removal to save me from surprise.
XXI.
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.
