The Island of Doctor Moreau, H. G. Wells [best free ebook reader for pc .TXT] 📗

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