Joseph Conrad (1857 - 1924) Joseph Conrad was born in 1857 in Polish Ukraine.

An orphan by the age of eleven, he st died for si! years at "t. Petersb rg University, whi#h he abandoned before earning a degree. Conrad left Poland in 187$. %e spent his ne!t years in &ran#e, learning a se#ond lang age and the f nda'entals of sea'anship. (he friends he 'et there introd #ed hi' to dra'a, opera and theater. At the sa'e ti'e, he was also strengthening his 'ariti'e #onta#ts, and soon he be#a'e an observer on pilot boats. (he workers he 'et on the ships, as well as all his e!perien#es there, laid the gro ndwork for ' #h of the vivid detail in his novels. )n the s ''er of 188*, while in +ngland, Conrad began his writing #areer by starting his first novel, Almayer's Folly. %e #hose to write in +nglish, his third lang age. A ,o rney to the Congo in 18*- was Conrad.s inspiration to write Heart of Darkness, his best/known work, whi#h e!pressed his o trage with the pra#ti#es of #olonialis'. %e ret rned to +ngland, and soon after had to deal with the death of his beloved g ardian/ n#le. (he 'oney left to the a thor gave hi' the finan#ial se# rity to 'ake writing his o## pation. Conrad.s first novel was p blished in 18*$, the sa'e year he 'et Jessie 0eorge, his f t re wife. " bse1 ently, his #ir#le of friends in#l ded #onte'porary a thors s #h as "tephen Crane and %enry Ja'es. %e #ontin ed writing, while traveling ba#k to Poland and finally to A'eri#a, where he re'ained ntil dying fro' a heart atta#k in 1*2$. Famous quotations by Joseph Conrad: All a 'an #an betray is his #ons#ien#e. (he dis#overy of A'eri#a was the o##asion of the greatest o tb rst of #r elty and re#kless greed known in history. All a'bitions are lawf l e!#ept those whi#h #li'b pward on the 'iseries or #red lities of 'ankind. 3eing a wo'an is a terribly diffi# lt task, sin#e it #onsists prin#ipally in dealing with 'en. ) had a'bition not only to go farther than any 'an had ever been before, b t as far as it was possible for a 'an to go. )t is to be re'arked that a good 'any people are born # rio sly nfitted for the fate waiting the' on this earth. (he belief in a s pernat ral so r#e of evil is not ne#essary4 'en alone are 1 ite #apable of every wi#kedness. (he last thing a wo'an will #onsent to dis#over in a 'an who' she loves, or on who' she si'ply depends, is want of #o rage.

Heart of Darkness Chapter (he 5ellie, a #r ising yawl, sw ng to her an#hor witho t a fl tter of the sails, and was at rest. (he flood had 'ade, the wind was nearly #al', and being bo nd down the river, the only thing for it was to #o'e to and wait for the t rn of the tide. (he sea/rea#h of the (ha'es stret#hed before s like the beginning of an inter'inable waterway. )n the offing the sea and the sky were welded together witho t a ,oint, and in the l 'ino s spa#e the tanned sails of the barges drifting p with the tide see'ed to stand still in red #l sters of #anvas sharply peaked, with glea's of varnished sprits. A ha6e rested on the low shores that ran o t to sea in vanishing flatness. (he air was dark above 0ravesend, and farther ba#k still see'ed #ondensed into a 'o rnf l gloo', brooding 'otionless over the biggest, and the greatest, town on earth. (he 7ire#tor of Co'panies was o r #aptain and o r host. 8e fo r affe#tionately wat#hed his ba#k as he stood in the bows looking to seaward. 9n the whole river there was nothing that looked half so na ti#al. %e rese'bled a pilot, whi#h to a sea'an is tr stworthiness personified. )t was diffi# lt to reali6e his work was not o t there in the l 'ino s est ary, b t behind hi', within the brooding gloo'. 3etween s there was, as ) have already said so'ewhere, the bond of the sea. 3esides holding o r hearts together thro gh long periods of separation, it had the effe#t of 'aking s tolerant of ea#h other.s yarns//and even #onvi#tions. (he :awyer//the best of old fellows //had, be#a se of his 'any years and 'any virt es, the only # shion on de#k, and was lying on the only r g. (he A##o ntant had bro ght o t already a bo! of do'inoes, and was toying ar#hite#t rally with the bones. ;arlow sat #ross/legged right aft, leaning against the 'i66en/'ast. %e had s nken #heeks, a yellow #o'ple!/ ion, a straight ba#k, an as#eti# aspe#t, and, with his ar's dropped, the pal's of hands o twards, rese'bled an idol. (he 7ire#tor, satisfied the an#hor had good hold, 'ade his way aft and sat down a'ongst s. 8e e!#hanged a few words la6ily. Afterwards there was silen#e on board the ya#ht. &or so'e reason or other we did not begin that ga'e of do'inoes. 8e felt 'editative, and fit for nothing b t pla#id staring. (he day was ending in a serenity of still and e!1 isite brillian#e. (he water shone pa#ifi#ally4 the sky, witho t a spe#k, was a benign i''ensity of nstained light4 the very 'ist on the +sse! 'arshes was like a ga 6y and radiant fabri#, h ng fro' the wooded rises inland, and draping the low shores in diaphano s folds. 9nly the gloo' to the west, brooding over the pper rea#hes, be#a'e 'ore so'ber every 'in te, as if angered by the approa#h of the s n. And at last, in its # rved and i'per#eptible fall, the s n sank low, and fro' glowing white #hanged to a d ll red witho t rays and witho t heat, as if abo t to go o t s ddenly, stri#ken to death by the to #h of that gloo' brooding over a #rowd of 'en.

&orthwith a #hange #a'e over the waters, and the serenity be#a'e less brilliant b t 'ore profo nd. (he old river in its broad rea#h rested nr ffled at the de#line of day, after ages of good servi#e done to the ra#e that peopled its banks, spread o t in the tran1 il dignity of a waterway leading to the tter'ost ends of the earth. 8e looked at the venerable strea' not in the vivid fl sh of a short day that #o'es and departs for ever, b t in the a g st light of abiding 'e'ories. And indeed nothing is easier for a 'an who has, as the phrase goes, <followed the sea< with reveren#e and affe#tion, than to evoke the great spirit of the past pon the lower rea#hes of the (ha'es. (he tidal # rrent r ns to and fro in its n#easing servi#e, #rowded with 'e'ories of 'en and ships it had borne to the rest of ho'e or to the battles of the sea. )t had known and served all the 'en of who' the nation is pro d, fro' "ir &ran#is 7rake to "ir John &ranklin, knights all, titled and ntitled//the great knights/errant of the sea. )t had borne all the ships whose na'es are like ,ewels flashing in the night of ti'e, fro' the 0olden %ind ret rning with her ro nd flanks f ll of treas re, to be visited by the = een.s %ighness and th s pass o t of the giganti# tale, to the +reb s and (error, bo nd on other #on1 ests // and that never ret rned. )t had known the ships and the 'en. (hey had sailed fro' 7eptford, fro' 0reenwi#h, fro' +rith//the advent rers and the settlers4 kings. ships and the ships of 'en on .Change4 #aptains, ad'irals, the dark <interlopers< of the +astern trade, and the #o''issioned <generals< of +ast )ndia fleets. % nters for gold or p rs ers of fa'e, they all had gone o t on that strea', bearing the sword, and often the tor#h, 'essengers of the 'ight within the land, bearers of a spark fro' the sa#red fire. 8hat greatness had not floated on the ebb of that river into the 'ystery of an nknown earth> . . . (he drea's of 'en, the seed of #o''onwealths, the ger's of e'pires. (he s n set4 the d sk fell on the strea', and lights began to appear along the shore. (he Chap'an lightho se, a three/legged thing ere#t on a ' d/flat, shone strongly. :ights of ships 'oved in the fairway//a great stir of lights going p and going down. And farther west on the pper rea#hes the pla#e of the 'onstro s town was still 'arked o'ino sly on the sky, a brooding gloo' in s nshine, a l rid glare nder the stars. <And this also,< said ;arlow s ddenly, <has been one of the dark pla#es of the earth.< %e was the only 'an of s who still <followed the sea.< (he worst that #o ld be said of hi' was that he did not represent his #lass. %e was a sea'an, b t he was a wanderer, too, while 'ost sea'en lead, if one 'ay so e!press it, a sedentary life. (heir 'inds are of the stay/at/ho'e order, and their ho'e is always with the' //the ship4 and so is their #o ntry//the sea. 9ne ship is very ' #h like another, and the sea is always the sa'e. )n the i'' tability of their s rro ndings the foreign shores, the foreign fa#es, the #hanging i''ensity of life, glide past, veiled not by a sense of 'ystery b t by a slightly disdainf l ignoran#e4 for there is nothing 'ysterio s to a sea'an nless it be the sea itself, whi#h is the 'istress of his e!isten#e and as ins#r table as 7estiny. &or the rest, after his ho rs of work, a #as al stroll or a #as al spree on shore s ffi#es to nfold for hi' the se#ret of a whole #ontinent, and generally he finds the se#ret not worth knowing. (he yarns of sea'en have a dire#t
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si'pli#ity, the whole 'eaning of whi#h lies within the shell of a #ra#ked n t. 3 t ;arlow was not typi#al@if his propensity to spin yarns be e!#eptedA, and to hi' the 'eaning of an episode was not inside like a kernel b t o tside, enveloping the tale whi#h bro ght it o t only as a glow brings o t a ha6e, in the likeness of one of these 'isty halos that so'eti'es are 'ade visible by the spe#tral ill 'ination of 'oonshine. %is re'ark did not see' at all s rprising. )t was , st like ;arlow. )t was a##epted in silen#e. 5o one took the tro ble to gr nt even4 and presently he said, very slow// <) was thinking of very old ti'es, when the Bo'ans first #a'e here, nineteen h ndred years ago//the other day. . . . :ight #a'e o t of this river sin#e//yo say CnightsD Ees4 b t it is like a r nning bla6e on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the #lo ds. 8e live in the fli#ker//'ay it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling> 3 t darkness was here yesterday. )'agine the feelings of a #o''ander of a fine//what d.ye #all.e'D//trire'e in the ;editerranean, ordered s ddenly to the north4 r n overland a#ross the 0a ls in a h rry4 p t in #harge of one of these #raft the legionaries,//a wonderf l lot of handy 'en they ' st have been too// sed to b ild, apparently by the h ndred, in a 'onth or two, if we 'ay believe what we read. )'agine hi' here//the very end of the world, a sea the #olor of lead, a sky the #olor of s'oke, a kind of ship abo t as rigid as a #on#ertina//and going p this river with stores, or orders, or what yo like. "andbanks, 'arshes, forests, savages,//pre#io s little to eat fit for a #ivili6ed 'an, nothing b t (ha'es water to drink. 5o &alernian wine here, no going ashore. %ere and there a 'ilitary #a'p lost in a wilderness, like a needle in a b ndle of hay// #old, fog, te'pests, disease, e!ile, and death,//death sk lking in the air, in the water, in the b sh. (hey ' st have been dying like flies here. 9h yes//he did it. 7id it very well, too, no do bt, and witho t thinking ' #h abo t it either, e!#ept afterwards to brag of what he had gone thro gh in his ti'e, perhaps. (hey were 'en eno gh to fa#e the darkness. And perhaps he was #heered by keeping his eye on a #han#e of pro'otion to the fleet at Bavenna by/and/by, if he had good friends in Bo'e and s rvived the awf l #li'ate. 9r think of a de#ent yo ng #iti6en in a toga//perhaps too ' #h di#e, yo know//#o'ing o t here in the train of so'e prefe#t, or ta!/gatherer, or trader even, to 'end his fort nes. :and in a swa'p, 'ar#h thro gh the woods, and in so'e inland post feel the savagery, the tter savagery, had #losed ro nd hi',//all that 'ysterio s life of the wilderness that stirs in the forest, in the , ngles, in the hearts of wild 'en. (here.s no initiation either into s #h 'ysteries. %e has to live in the 'idst of the in#o'prehensible, whi#h is also detestable. And it has a fas#ination, too, that goes to work pon hi'. (he fas#ination of the abo'ination//yo know. )'agine the growing regrets, the longing to es#ape, the powerless disg st, the s rrender, the hate.< %e pa sed. <;ind,< he began again, lifting one ar' fro' the elbow, the pal' of the hand o twards, so that, with his legs folded before hi', he had the pose of a 3 ddha prea#hing in + ropean #lothes and witho t a lot s/flower//<;ind, none of s wo ld
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feel e!a#tly like this. 8hat saves s is effi#ien#y//the devotion to effi#ien#y. 3 t these #haps were not ' #h a##o nt, really. (hey were no #olonists4 their ad'inistration was 'erely a s1 ee6e, and nothing 'ore, ) s spe#t. (hey were #on/ 1 erors, and for that yo want only br te for#e//nothing to boast of, when yo have it, sin#e yo r strength is , st an a##ident arising fro' the weakness of others. (hey grabbed what they #o ld get for the sake of what was to be got. )t was , st robbery with violen#e, aggravated ' rder on a great s#ale, and 'en going at it blind //as is very proper for those who ta#kle a darkness. (he #on1 est of the earth, whi#h 'ostly 'eans the taking it away fro' those who have a different #o'ple!ion or slightly flatter noses than o rselves, is not a pretty thing when yo look into it too ' #h. 8hat redee's it is the idea only. An idea at the ba#k of it4 not a senti'ental pretense b t an idea4 and an nselfish belief in the idea //so'ething yo #an set p, and bow down before, and offer a sa#rifi#e to. . . .< %e broke off. &la'es glided in the river, s'all green fla'es, red fla'es, white fla'es, p rs ing, overtaking, ,oining, #rossing ea#h other//then separating slowly or hastily. (he traffi# of the great #ity went on in the deepening night pon the sleepless river. 8e looked on, waiting patiently//there was nothing else to do till the end of the flood4 b t it was only after a long silen#e, when he said, in a hesitating voi#e, <) s ppose yo fellows re'e'ber ) did on#e t rn fresh/water sailor for a bit,< that we knew we were fated, before the ebb began to r n, to hear abo t one of ;arlow.s in#on#l sive e!perien#es. <) don.t want to bother yo ' #h with what happened to 'e personally,< he began, showing in this re'ark the weakness of 'any tellers of tales who see' so often naware of what their a dien#e wo ld best like to hear4 <yet to nderstand the effe#t of it on 'e yo o ght to know how ) got o t there, what ) saw, how ) went p that river to the pla#e where ) first 'et the poor #hap. )t was the farthest point of navigation and the # l'inating point of 'y e!perien#e. )t see'ed so'ehow to throw a kind of light on everything abo t 'e// and into 'y tho ghts. )t was so'ber eno gh too//and pitif l//not e!traordinary in any way//not very #lear either. 5o, not very #lear. And yet it see'ed to throw a kind of light. <) had then, as yo re'e'ber, , st ret rned to :ondon after a lot of )ndian 9#ean, Pa#ifi#, China "eas// a reg lar dose of the +ast//si! years or so, and ) was loafing abo t, hindering yo fellows in yo r work and invading yo r ho'es, , st as tho gh ) had got a heavenly 'ission to #ivili6e yo . )t was very fine for a ti'e, b t after a bit ) did get tired of resting. (hen ) began to look for a ship//) sho ld think the hardest work on earth. 3 t the ships wo ldn.t even look at 'e. And ) got tired of that ga'e too. <5ow when ) was a little #hap ) had a passion for 'aps. ) wo ld look for ho rs at "o th A'eri#a, or Afri#a, or A stralia, and lose 'yself in all the glories of e!ploration. At that ti'e there were 'any blank spa#es on the earth, and when ) saw one that looked parti# larly inviting on a 'ap @b t they all look thatA ) wo ld p t 'y finger on it and say, 8hen ) grow p ) will go there. (he 5orth Pole was one of these
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pla#es, ) re'e'ber. 8ell, ) haven.t been there yet, and shall not try now. (he gla'o r.s off. 9ther pla#es were s#attered abo t the +1 ator, and in every sort of lati/ t de all over the two he'ispheres. ) have been in so'e of the', and . . . well, we won.t talk abo t that. 3 t there was one yet//the biggest, the 'ost blank, so to speak// that ) had a hankering after. <(r e, by this ti'e it was not a blank spa#e any 'ore. )t had got filled sin#e 'y boyhood with rivers and lakes and na'es. )t had #eased to be a blank spa#e of delightf l 'ystery//a white pat#h for a boy to drea' glorio sly over. )t had be#o'e a pla#e of darkness. 3 t there was in it one river espe#ially, a 'ighty big river, that yo #o ld see on the 'ap, rese'bling an i''ense snake n#oiled, with its head in the sea, its body at rest # rving afar over a vast #o ntry, and its tail lost in the depths of the land. And as ) looked at the 'ap of it in a shop/window, it fas#inated 'e as a snake wo ld a bird//a silly little bird. (hen ) re'e'bered there was a big #on#ern, a Co'pany for trade on that river. 7ash it all> ) tho ght to 'yself, they #an.t trade witho t sing so'e kind of #raft on that lot of fresh water// stea'boats> 8hy sho ldn.t ) try to get #harge of one. ) went on along &leet "treet, b t #o ld not shake off the idea. (he snake had #har'ed 'e. <Eo nderstand it was a Continental #on#ern, that (rading so#iety4 b t ) have a lot of relations living on the Continent, be#a se it.s #heap and not so nasty as it looks, they say. <) a' sorry to own ) began to worry the'. (his was already a fresh depart re for 'e. ) was not sed to get things that way, yo know. ) always went 'y own road and on 'y own legs where ) had a 'ind to go. ) wo ldn.t have believed it of 'yself4 b t, then//yo see //) felt so'ehow ) ' st get there by hook or by #rook. "o ) worried the'. (he 'en said .;y dear fellow,. and did nothing. (hen//wo ld yo believe itD//) tried the wo'en. ), Charlie ;arlow, set the wo'en to work//to get a ,ob. %eavens> 8ell, yo see, the notion drove 'e. ) had an a nt, a dear enth siasti# so l. "he wroteF.)t will be delightf l. ) a' ready to do anything, anything for yo . )t is a glorio s idea. ) know the wife of a very high personage in the Ad'inistration, and also a 'an who has lots of infl en#e with,. G#., G#. "he was deter'ined to 'ake no end of f ss to get 'e appointed skipper of a river stea'boat, if s #h was 'y fan#y. <) got 'y appoint'ent//of #o rse4 and ) got it very 1 i#k. )t appears the Co'pany had re#eived news that one of their #aptains had been killed in a s# ffle with the natives. (his was 'y #han#e, and it 'ade 'e the 'ore an!io s to go. )t was only 'onths and 'onths afterwards, when ) 'ade the atte'pt to re#over what was left of the body, that ) heard the original 1 arrel arose fro' a 'is nderstanding abo t so'e hens. Ees, two bla#k hens. &resleven//that was the fellow.s na'e, a 7ane//tho ght hi'self wronged so'ehow in the bargain, so he went ashore and started to ha''er the #hief of the village with a sti#k. 9h, it didn.t s rprise 'e in the least to hear this, and at the sa'e ti'e to be told that &resleven was the gentlest, 1 ietest #reat re that ever walked on two legs. 5o do bt he was4 b t he had been a #o ple of years already o t there engaged in the noble #a se, yo know, and he probably felt the need at last
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of asserting his self/respe#t in so'e way. (herefore he wha#ked the old nigger 'er#ilessly, while a big #rowd of his people wat#hed hi', th nderstr #k, till so'e 'an,//) was told the #hief.s son,//in desperation at hearing the old #hap yell, 'ade a tentative ,ab with a spear at the white 'an//and of #o rse it went 1 ite easy between the sho lder/blades. (hen the whole pop lation #leared into the forest, e!pe#ting all kinds of #ala'ities to happen, while, on the other hand, the stea'er &resleven #o''anded left also in a bad pani#, in #harge of the engineer, ) believe. Afterwards nobody see'ed to tro ble ' #h abo t &resleven.s re'ains, till ) got o t and stepped into his shoes. ) #o ldn.t let it rest, tho gh4 b t when an opport nity offered at last to 'eet 'y prede#essor, the grass growing thro gh his ribs was tall eno gh to hide his bones. (hey were all there. (he s pernat ral being had not been to #hed after he fell. And the village was deserted, the h ts gaped bla#k, rotting, all askew within the fallen en#los res. A #ala'ity had #o'e to it, s re eno gh. (he people had vanished. ;ad terror had s#attered the', 'en, wo'en, and #hildren, thro gh the b sh, and they had never ret rned. 8hat be#a'e of the hens ) don.t know either. ) sho ld think the #a se of progress got the', anyhow. %owever, thro gh this glorio s affair ) got 'y appoint'ent, before ) had fairly beg n to hope for it. <) flew aro nd like 'ad to get ready, and before forty/eight ho rs ) was #rossing the Channel to show 'yself to 'y e'ployers, and sign the #ontra#t. )n a very few ho rs ) arrived in a #ity that always 'akes 'e think of a whited sep l#her. Pre, di#e no do bt. ) had no diffi# lty in finding the Co'pany.s offi#es. )t was the biggest thing in the town, and everybody ) 'et was f ll of it. (hey were going to r n an over/sea e'pire, and 'ake no end of #oin by trade. <A narrow and deserted street in deep shadow, high ho ses, inn 'erable windows with venetian blinds, a dead silen#e, grass spro ting between the stones, i'posing #arriage ar#hways right and left, i''ense do ble doors standing pondero sly a,ar. ) slipped thro gh one of these #ra#ks, went p a swept and ngarnished stair#ase, as arid as a desert, and opened the first door ) #a'e to. (wo wo'en, one fat and the other sli', sat on strawbotto'ed #hairs, knitting bla#k wool. (he sli' one got p and walked straight at 'e//still knitting with down#ast eyes//and only , st as ) began to think of getting o t of her way, as yo wo ld for a so'na'b list, stood still, and looked p. %er dress was as plain as an 'brella/#over, and she t rned ro nd witho t a word and pre#eded 'e into a waiting/roo'. ) gave 'y na'e, and looked abo t. 7eal table in the 'iddle, plain #hairs all ro nd the walls, on one end a large shining 'ap, 'arked with all the #olors of a rainbow. (here was a vast a'o nt of red//good to see at any ti'e, be#a se one knows that so'e real work is done in there, a de #e of a lot of bl e, a little green, s'ears of orange, and, on the +ast Coast, a p rple pat#h, to show where the ,olly pioneers of progress drink the ,olly lagerbeer. %owever, ) wasn.t going into any of these. ) was going into the yellow. 7ead in the #enter. And the river was there//fas#inating//deadly//like a snake. 9 gh> A door opened, a white/ haired se#retarial head, b t wearing a #o'passionate e!pression, appeared, and a skinny forefinger be#koned 'e into the san#t ary. )ts light was di', and a heavy writing/desk s1 atted in the 'iddle. &ro' behind that str #t re #a'e o t an i'/ pression of pale pl 'pness in a fro#k/#oat. (he great 'an hi'self. %e was five feet
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si!, ) sho ld , dge, and had his grip on the handle/end of ever so 'any 'illions. %e shook hands, ) fan#y, ' r' red vag ely, was satisfied with 'y &ren#h. 3on voyage. <)n abo t forty/five se#onds ) fo nd 'yself again in the waiting/roo' with the #o'passionate se#retary, who, f ll of desolation and sy'pathy, 'ade 'e sign so'e do# 'ent. ) believe ) ndertook a'ongst other things not to dis#lose any trade se#rets. 8ell, ) a' not going to. <) began to feel slightly neasy. Eo know ) a' not sed to s #h #ere'onies, and there was so'ething o'ino s in the at'osphere. )t was , st as tho gh ) had been let into so'e #onspira#y//) don.t know//so'ething not 1 ite right4 and ) was glad to get o t. )n the o ter roo' the two wo'en knitted bla#k wool feverishly. People were arriving, and the yo nger one was walking ba#k and forth introd #ing the'. (he old one sat on her #hair. %er flat #loth slippers were propped p on a foot/war'er, and a #at reposed on her lap. "he wore a star#hed white affair on her head, had a wart on one #heek, and silver/ri''ed spe#ta#les h ng on the tip of her nose. "he glan#ed at 'e above the glasses. (he swift and indifferent pla#idity of that look tro bled 'e. (wo yo ths with foolish and #heery #o ntenan#es were being piloted over, and she threw at the' the sa'e 1 i#k glan#e of n#on#erned wisdo'. "he see'ed to know all abo t the' and abo t 'e too. An eerie feeling #a'e over 'e. "he see'ed n#anny and fatef l. 9ften far away there ) tho ght of these two, g arding the door of 7arkness, knitting bla#k wool as for a war' pall, one introd #ing, introd #ing #ontin o sly to the nknown, the other s#r tini6ing the #heery and foolish fa#es with n#on#erned old eyes. Ave> 9ld knitter of bla#k wool. ;orit ri te sal tant. 5ot 'any of those she looked at ever saw her again//not half, by a long way. <(here was yet a visit to the do#tor. .A si'ple for'ality,. ass red 'e the se#retary, with an air of taking an i''ense part in all 'y sorrows. A##ordingly a yo ng #hap wearing his hat over the left eyebrow, so'e #lerk ) s ppose,//there ' st have been #lerks in the b siness, tho gh the ho se was as still as a ho se in a #ity of the dead,// #a'e fro' so'ewhere p/stairs, and led 'e forth. %e was shabby and #areless, with ink/stains on the sleeves of his ,a#ket, and his #ravat was large and billowy, nder a #hin shaped like the toe of an old boot. )t was a little too early for the do#tor, so ) proposed a drink, and there pon he developed a vein of ,oviality. As we sat over o r ver'o ths he glorified the Co'pany.s b siness, and by/and/by ) e!pressed #as ally 'y s rprise at hi' not going o t there. %e be#a'e very #ool and #olle#ted all at on#e. .) a' not s #h a fool as ) look, 1 oth Plato to his dis#iples,. he said sententio sly, e'ptied his glass with great resol tion, and we rose. <(he old do#tor felt 'y p lse, evidently thinking of so'ething else the while. .0ood, good for there,. he ' 'bled, and then with a #ertain eagerness asked 'e whether ) wo ld let hi' 'eas re 'y head. Bather s rprised, ) said Ees, when he prod #ed a thing like #alipers and got the di'ensions ba#k and front and every way, taking notes #aref lly. %e was an nshaven little 'an in a threadbare #oat like a gaberdine, with his feet in slippers, and ) tho ght hi' a har'less fool. .) always ask leave, in the interests of s#ien#e, to 'eas re the #rania of those going o t there,. he said. .And
8

when they #o'e ba#k tooD. ) asked. <9h, ) never see the',. he re'arked4 .and, 'oreover, the #hanges take pla#e inside, yo know.. %e s'iled, as if at so'e 1 iet ,oke.."o yo are going o t there. &a'o s. )nteresting too.. %e gave 'e a sear#hing glan#e, and 'ade another note..+ver any 'adness in yo r fa'ilyD. he asked, in a 'atter/of/fa#t tone. ) felt very annoyed. .)s that 1 estion in the interests of s#ien#e tooD. .)t wo ld be,. he said, witho t taking noti#e of 'y irritation, .interesting for s#ien#e to wat#h the 'ental #hanges of individ als, on the spot, b t . . .. .Are yo an alienistD. ) interr pted. .+very do#tor sho ld be//a little,. answered that original, i'pert rbably. .) have a little theory whi#h yo ;essie rs who go o t there ' st help 'e to prove. (his is 'y share in the advantages 'y #o ntry shall reap fro' the possession of s #h a 'agnifi#ent dependen#y. (he 'ere wealth ) leave to others. Pardon 'y 1 estions, b t yo are the first +nglish'an #o'ing nder 'y observation. . . .. ) hastened to ass re hi' ) was not in the least typi#al. .)f ) were,. said ), .) wo ldn.t be talking like this with yo .. .8hat yo say is rather profo nd, and probably erroneo s,. he said, with a la gh. .Avoid irritation 'ore than e!pos re to the s n. Adie . %ow do yo +nglish say, ehD 0ood/by. Ah> 0ood/by. Adie . )n the tropi#s one ' st before everything keep #al'.. . . . %e lifted a warning forefinger. . . . .7 #al'e, d #al'e. Adie .. <9ne thing 'ore re'ained to do//say good/by to 'y e!#ellent a nt. ) fo nd her tri 'phant. ) had a # p of tea//the last de#ent # p of tea for 'any days //and in a roo' that 'ost soothingly looked , st as yo wo ld e!pe#t a lady.s drawing/roo' to look, we had a long 1 iet #hat by the fireside. )n the #o rse of these #onfiden#es it be#a'e 1 ite plain to 'e ) had been represented to the wife of the high dignitary, and goodness knows to how 'any 'ore people besides, as an e!#eptional and gifted #reat re//a pie#e of good fort ne for the Co'pany//a 'an yo don.t get hold of every day. 0ood heavens> and ) was going to take #harge of a two/penny/halfpenny river/ stea'boat with a penny whistle atta#hed> )t appeared, however, ) was also one of the 8orkers, with a #apital//yo know. "o'ething like an e'issary of light, so'ething like a lower sort of apostle. (here had been a lot of s #h rot let loose in print and talk , st abo t that ti'e, and the e!#ellent wo'an, living right in the r sh of all that h 'b g, got #arried off her feet. "he talked abo t .weaning those ignorant 'illions fro' their horrid ways,. till, pon 'y word, she 'ade 'e 1 ite n#o'fortable. ) vent red to hint that the Co'pany was r n for profit. <Eo forget, dear Charlie, that the laborer is worthy of his hire,. she said, brightly. )t.s 1 eer how o t of to #h with tr th wo'en are. (hey live in a world of their own, and there had never been anything like it, and never #an be. )t is too bea tif l altogether, and if they were to set it p it wo ld go to pie#es before the first s nset. "o'e #onfo nded fa#t we 'en have been living #ontentedly with ever sin#e the day of #re/ ation wo ld start p and kno#k the whole thing over. <After this ) got e'bra#ed, told to wear flannel, be s re to write often, and so on//and ) left. )n the street //) don.t know why//a 1 eer feeling #a'e to 'e that ) was an i'postor. 9dd thing that ), who sed to #lear o t for any part of the world at twenty/ fo r ho rs. noti#e, with less tho ght than 'ost 'en give to the #rossing of a street,
*

had a 'o'ent//) won.t say of hesitation, b t of startled pa se, before this #o''onpla#e affair. (he best way ) #an e!plain it to yo is by saying that, for a se#ond or two, ) felt as tho gh, instead of going to the #enter of a #ontinent, ) were abo t to set off for the #enter of the earth. <) left in a &ren#h stea'er, and she #alled in every bla'ed port they have o t there, for, as far as ) #o ld see, the sole p rpose of landing soldiers and # sto'ho se offi#ers. ) wat#hed the #oast. 8at#hing a #oast as it slips by the ship is like thinking abo t an enig'a. (here it is before yo //s'iling, frowning, inviting, grand, 'ean, insipid, or savage, and always ' te with an air of whispering, Co'e and find o t. (his one was al'ost feat reless, as if still in the 'aking, with an aspe#t of 'onotono s gri'ness. (he edge of a #olossal , ngle, so dark/green as to be al'ost bla#k, fringed with white s rf, ran straight, like a r led line, far, far away along a bl e sea whose glitter was bl rred by a #reeping 'ist. (he s n was fier#e, the land see'ed to glisten and drip with stea'. %ere and there grayish/whitish spe#ks showed p, #l stered inside the white s rf, with a flag flying above the' perhaps. "ettle'ents so'e #ent ries old, and still no bigger than pin/heads on the nto #hed e!panse of their ba#kgro nd. 8e po nded along, stopped, landed soldiers4 went on, landed # sto'ho se #lerks to levy toll in what looked like a 0od/for/saken wilderness, with a tin shed and a flag/pole lost in it4 landed 'ore soldiers//to take #are of the # sto'ho se #lerks, pres 'ably. "o'e, ) heard, got drowned in the s rf4 b t whether they did or not, nobody see'ed parti# larly to #are. (hey were , st fl ng o t there, and on we went. +very day the #oast looked the sa'e, as tho gh we had not 'oved4 b t we passed vario s pla#es//trading pla#es//with na'es like 0ran. 3assa' :ittle Popo, na'es that see'ed to belong to so'e sordid far#e a#ted in front of a sinister ba#k#loth. (he idleness of a passenger, 'y isolation a'ongst all these 'en with who' ) had no point of #onta#t, the oily and lang id sea, the nifor' so'berness of the #oast, see'ed to keep 'e away fro' the tr th of things, within the toil of a 'o rnf l and senseless del sion. (he voi#e of the s rf heard now and then was a positive pleas re, like the spee#h of a brother. )t was so'ething nat ral, that had its reason, that had a 'eaning. 5ow and then a boat fro' the shore gave one a 'o'entary #onta#t with reality. )t was paddled by bla#k fellows. Eo #o ld see fro' afar the white of their eyeballs glistening. (hey sho ted, sang4 their bodies strea'ed with perspiration4 they had fa#es like grotes1 e 'asks//these #haps4 b t they had bone, ' s#le, a wild vitality, an intense energy of 'ove'ent, that was as nat ral and tr e as the s rf along their #oast. (hey wanted no e!# se for being there. (hey were a great #o'fort to look at. &or a ti'e ) wo ld feel ) belonged still to a world of straightforward fa#ts4 b t the feeling wo ld not last long. "o'ething wo ld t rn p to s#are it away. 9n#e, ) re'e'ber, we #a'e pon a 'an/of/war an#hored off the #oast. (here wasn.t even a shed there, and she was shelling the b sh. )t appears the &ren#h had one of their wars going on thereabo ts. %er ensign dropped li'p like a rag4 the ' 66les of the long eight/in#h g ns st #k o t all over the low h ll4 the greasy, sli'y swell sw ng her p la6ily and let her down, swaying her thin 'asts. )n the e'pty i''ensity of earth, sky, and water, there she was, in#o'prehensible, firing into a #ontinent. Pop, wo ld go one of the eight/in#h g ns4 a s'all fla'e wo ld dart and vanish, a little white s'oke wo ld disappear, a tiny pro,e#tile wo ld give a feeble
1-

s#ree#h// and nothing happened. 5othing #o ld happen. (here was a to #h of insanity in the pro#eeding, a sense of l g brio s drollery in the sight4 and it was not dissipated by so'ebody on board ass ring 'e earnestly there was a #a'p of natives// he #alled the' ene'ies>//hidden o t of sight so'ewhere.

Chapter <9ne evening as ) was lying flat on the de#k of 'y stea'boat, ) heard voi#es approa#hing//and there were the nephew and the n#le strolling along the bank. ) laid 'y head on 'y ar' again, and had nearly lost 'yself in a do6e, when so'ebody said in 'y ear, as it wereF .) a' as har'less as a little #hild, b t ) don.t like to be di#tated to. A' ) the 'anager//or a' ) notD ) was ordered to send hi' there. )t.s in#redible.. . . . ) be#a'e aware that the two were standing on the shore alongside the forepart of the stea'boat, , st below 'y head. ) did not 'ove4 it did not o## r to 'e to 'oveF ) was sleepy. .)t )" npleasant,. gr nted the n#le. .%e has asked the Ad'inistration to be sent there,. said the other, .with the idea of showing what he #o ld do4 and ) was instr #ted a##ordingly. :ook at the infl en#e that 'an ' st have. )s it not frightf lD. (hey both agreed it was frightf l, then 'ade several bi6arre re'arksF .;ake rain and fine weather//one 'an//the Co n#il// by the nose.//bits of abs rd senten#es that got the better of 'y drowsiness, so that ) had pretty near the whole of 'y wits abo t 'e when the n#le said, .(he #li'ate 'ay do away with this diffi# lty for yo . )s he alone thereD. .Ees,. answered the 'anager4 .he sent his assistant down the river with a note to 'e in these ter'sF <Clear this poor devil o t of the #o ntry, and don.t bother sending 'ore of that sort. ) had rather be alone than have the kind of 'en yo #an dispose of with 'e.< )t was 'ore than a year ago. Can yo i'agine s #h i'p den#e>. .Anything sin#e thenD. asked the other, hoarsely. .)vory,. ,erked the nephew4 .lots of it//pri'e sort//lots//'ost annoying, fro' hi'.. .And with thatD. 1 estioned the heavy r 'ble. .)nvoi#e,. was the reply fired o t, so to speak. (hen silen#e. (hey had been talking abo t C rt6. <) was broad awake by this ti'e, b t, lying perfe#tly at ease, re'ained still, having no ind #e'ent to #hange 'y position. .%ow did that ivory #o'e all this wayD. growled the elder 'an, who see'ed very ve!ed. (he other e!plained that it had #o'e with a fleet of #anoes in #harge of an +nglish half/#aste #lerk C rt6 had with hi'4 that C rt6 had apparently intended to ret rn hi'self, the station being by that ti'e bare of goods and stores, b t after #o'ing three h ndred 'iles, had s ddenly de#ided to go ba#k, whi#h he started to do alone in a s'all d g/o t with fo r paddlers, leaving the half/ #aste to #ontin e down the river with the ivory. (he two fellows there see'ed asto nded at anybody atte'pting s #h a thing. (hey were at a loss for an ade1 ate
11

'otive. As to 'e, ) see'ed to see C rt6 for the first ti'e. )t was a distin#t gli'pseF the d g/o t, fo r paddling savages, and the lone white 'an t rning his ba#k s d/ denly on the head1 arters, on relief, on tho ghts of ho'e//perhaps4 setting his fa#e towards the depths of the wilderness, towards his e'pty and desolate station. ) did not know the 'otive. Perhaps he was , st si'ply a fine fellow who st #k to his work for its own sake. %is na'e, yo nderstand, had not been prono n#ed on#e. %e was .that 'an.. (he half/#aste, who, as far as ) #o ld see, had #ond #ted a diffi# lt trip with great pr den#e and pl #k, was invariably all ded to as .that s#o ndrel.. (he .s#o ndrel. had reported that the .'an. had been very ill//had re#overed i'perfe#tly. . . . (he two below 'e 'oved away then a few pa#es, and strolled ba#k and forth at so'e little distan#e. ) heardF .;ilitary post//do#tor//two h ndred 'iles// 1 ite alone now// navoidable delays//nine 'onths//no news//strange r 'ors.. (hey approa#hed again, , st as the 'anager was saying, .5o one, as far as ) know, nless a spe#ies of wandering trader//a pestilential fellow, snapping ivory fro' the natives.. 8ho was it they were talking abo t nowD ) gathered in snat#hes that this was so'e 'an s pposed to be in C rt6.s distri#t, and of who' the 'anager did not approve. .8e will not be free fro' nfair #o'petition till one of these fellows is hanged for an e!a'ple,. he said. .Certainly,. gr nted the other4 .get hi' hanged> 8hy notD Anything// anything #an be done in this #o ntry. (hat.s what ) say4 nobody here, yo nderstand, %+B+, #an endanger yo r position. And whyD Eo stand the #li'ate//yo o tlast the' all. (he danger is in + rope4 b t there before ) left ) took #are to//. (hey 'oved off and whispered, then their voi#es rose again. .(he e!traordinary series of delays is not 'y fa lt. ) did 'y possible.. (he fat 'an sighed, .Iery sad.. .And the pestifero s abs rdity of his talk,. #ontin ed the other4 .he bothered 'e eno gh when he was here. <+a#h station sho ld be like a bea#on on the road towards better things, a #enter for trade of #o rse, b t also for h 'ani6ing, i'proving, instr #ting.< Con#eive yo //that ass> And he wants to be 'anager> 5o, it.s//. %ere he got #hoked by e!#essive indignation, and ) lifted 'y head the least bit. ) was s rprised to see how near they were//right nder 'e. ) #o ld have spat pon their hats. (hey were looking on the gro nd, absorbed in tho ght. (he 'anager was swit#hing his leg with a slender twigF his saga#io s relative lifted his head. .Eo have been well sin#e yo #a'e o t this ti'eD. he asked. (he other gave a start. .8hoD )D 9h> :ike a #har' //like a #har'. 3 t the rest//oh, 'y goodness> All si#k. (hey die so 1 i#k, too, that ) haven.t the ti'e to send the' o t of the #o ntry//it.s in#redible>. .%.'. J st so,. gr nted the n#le. .Ah> 'y boy, tr st to this //) say, tr st to this.. ) saw hi' e!tend his short flipper of an ar' for a gest re that took in the forest, the #reek, the ' d, the river,//see'ed to be#kon with a dishonoring flo rish before the s nlit fa#e of the land a trea#hero s appeal to the l rking death, to the hidden evil, to the profo nd darkness of its heart. )t was so startling that ) leaped to 'y feet and looked ba#k at the edge of the forest, as tho gh ) had e!pe#ted an answer of so'e sort to that bla#k display of #onfiden#e. Eo know the foolish notions that #o'e to one so'e/ ti'es. (he high stillness #onfronted these two fig res with its o'ino s patien#e, waiting for the passing away of a fantasti# invasion.
12

<(hey swore alo d together//o t of sheer fright, ) believe//then pretending not to know anything of 'y e!isten#e, t rned ba#k to the station. (he s n was low4 and leaning forward side by side, they see'ed to be t gging painf lly phill their two ridi# lo s shadows of ne1 al length, that trailed behind the' slowly over the tall grass witho t bending a single blade. <)n a few days the +ldorado +!pedition went into the patient wilderness, that #losed pon it as the sea #loses over a diver. :ong afterwards the news #a'e that all the donkeys were dead. ) know nothing as to the fate of the less val able ani'als. (hey, no do bt, like the rest of s, fo nd what they deserved. ) did not in1 ire. ) was then rather e!#ited at the prospe#t of 'eeting C rt6 very soon. 8hen ) say very soon ) 'ean it #o'paratively. )t was , st two 'onths fro' the day we left the #reek when we #a'e to the bank below C rt6.s station. <0oing p that river was like traveling ba#k to the earliest beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were kings. An e'pty strea', a great silen#e, an i'penetrable forest. (he air was war', thi#k, heavy, sl ggish. (here was no ,oy in the brillian#e of s nshine. (he long stret#hes of the waterway ran on, deserted, into the gloo' of overshadowed distan#es. 9n silvery sandbanks hippos and alligators s nned the'selves side by side. (he broadening waters flowed thro gh a 'ob of wooded islands4 yo lost yo r way on that river as yo wo ld in a desert, and b tted all day long against shoals, trying to find the #hannel, till yo tho ght yo rself bewit#hed and # t off for ever fro' everything yo had known on#e//so'e where// far away//in another e!isten#e perhaps. (here were 'o'ents when one.s past #a'e ba#k to one, as it will so'eti'es when yo have not a 'o'ent to spare to yo rself4 b t it #a'e in the shape of an nrestf l and noisy drea', re'e'bered with wonder a'ongst the overwhel'ing realities of this strange world of plants, and water, and silen#e. And this stillness of life did not in the least rese'ble a pea#e. )t was the stillness of an i'pla#able for#e brooding over an ins#r table intention. )t looked at yo with a vengef l aspe#t. ) got sed to it afterwards4 ) did not see it any 'ore4 ) had no ti'e. ) had to keep g essing at the #hannel4 ) had to dis#ern, 'ostly by inspiration, the signs of hidden banks4 ) wat#hed for s nken stones4 ) was learning to #lap 'y teeth s'artly before 'y heart flew o t, when ) shaved by a fl ke so'e infernal sly old snag that wo ld have ripped the life o t of the tin/pot stea'boat and drowned all the pilgri's4 ) had to keep a look/o t for the signs of dead wood we #o ld # t p in the night for ne!t day.s stea'ing. 8hen yo have to attend to things of that sort, to the 'ere in#idents of the s rfa#e, the reality//the reality, ) tell yo //fades. (he inner tr th is hidden//l #kily, l #kily. 3 t ) felt it all the sa'e4 ) felt often its 'ysterio s stillness wat#hing 'e at 'y 'onkey tri#ks, , st as it wat#hes yo fellows perfor'ing on yo r respe#tive tight/ropes for//what is itD half/a/#rown a t 'ble//< <(ry to be #ivil, ;arlow,< growled a voi#e, and ) knew there was at least one listener awake besides 'yself. <) beg yo r pardon. ) forgot the hearta#he whi#h 'akes p the rest of the pri#e. And indeed what does the pri#e 'atter, if the tri#k be well doneD Eo do yo r tri#ks very
1?

well. And ) didn.t do badly either, sin#e ) 'anaged not to sink that stea'boat on 'y first trip. )t.s a wonder to 'e yet. )'agine a blindfolded 'an set to drive a van over a bad road. ) sweated and shivered over that b siness #onsiderably, ) #an tell yo . After all, for a sea'an, to s#rape the botto' of the thing that.s s pposed to float all the ti'e nder his #are is the npardonable sin. 5o one 'ay know of it, b t yo never forget the th 'p//ehD A blow on the very heart. Eo re'e'ber it, yo drea' of it, yo wake p at night and think of it//years after//and go hot and #old all over. ) don.t pretend to say that stea'boat floated all the ti'e. ;ore than on#e she had to wade for a bit, with twenty #annibals splashing aro nd and p shing. 8e had enlisted so'e of these #haps on the way for a #rew. &ine fellows//#annibals//in their pla#e. (hey were 'en one #o ld work with, and ) a' gratef l to the'. And, after all, they did not ea#h other before 'y fa#eF they had bro ght along a provision of hippo'eat whi#h went rotten, and 'ade the 'ystery of the wilderness stink in 'y nostrils. Phoo> ) #an sniff it now. ) had the 'anager on board and three or fo r pilgri's with their staves//all #o'plete. "o'eti'es we #a'e pon a station #lose by the bank, #linging to the skirts of the nknown, and the white 'en r shing o t of a t 'ble/down hovel, with great gest res of ,oy and s rprise and wel#o'e, see'ed very strange,//had the appearan#e of being held there #aptive by a spell. (he word ivory wo ld ring in the air for a while//and on we went again into the silen#e, along e'pty rea#hes, ro nd the still bends, between the high walls of o r winding way, reverberating in hollow #laps the pondero s beat of the stern/wheel. (rees, trees, 'illions of trees, 'assive, i''ense, r nning p high4 and at their foot, h gging the bank against the strea', #rept the little begri'ed stea'boat, like a sl ggish beetle #rawling on the floor of a lofty porti#o. )t 'ade yo feel very s'all, very lost, and yet it was not altogether depressing that feel/ ing. After all, if yo were s'all, the gri'y beetle #rawled on//whi#h was , st what yo wanted it to do. 8here the pilgri's i'agined it #rawled to ) don.t know. (o so'e pla#e where they e!pe#ted to get so'ething, ) bet> &or 'e it #rawled toward C rt6// e!#l sively4 b t when the stea'/pipes started leaking we #rawled very slow. (he rea#hes opened before s and #losed behind, as if the forest had stepped leis rely a#ross the water to bar the way for o r ret rn. 8e penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness. )t was very 1 iet there. At night so'eti'es the roll of dr 's behind the # rtain of trees wo ld r n p the river and re'ain s stained faintly, as if hovering in the air high over o r heads, till the first break of day. 8hether it 'eant war, pea#e, or prayer we #o ld not tell. (he dawns were heralded by the des#ent of a #hill stillness4 the wood# tters slept, their fires b rned low4 the snapping of a twig wo ld 'ake yo start. 8e were wanderers on a prehistori# earth, on an earth that wore the aspe#t of an nknown planet. 8e #o ld have fan#ied o rselves the first of 'en taking possession of an a## rsed inheritan#e, to be s bd ed at the #ost of profo nd ang ish and of e!#essive toil. 3 t s ddenly, as we str ggled ro nd a bend, there wo ld be a gli'pse of r sh walls, of peaked grass/roofs, a b rst of yells, a whirl of bla#k li'bs, a 'ass of hands #lapping, of feet sta'ping, of bodies swaying, of eyes rolling, nder the droop of heavy and 'otionless foliage. (he stea'er toiled along slowly on the edge of a bla#k and in#o'prehensible fren6y. (he prehistori# 'an was # rsing s, praying to s, wel#o'ing s//who #o ld tellD 8e were # t off fro' the #o'prehension of o r s rro ndings4 we glided past like phanto's, wondering and
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se#retly appalled, as sane 'en wo ld be before an enth siasti# o tbreak in a 'adho se. 8e #o ld not nderstand, be#a se we were too far and #o ld not re'e'ber, be#a se we were traveling in the night of first ages, of those ages that are gone, leaving hardly a sign//and no 'e'ories. <(he earth see'ed nearthly. 8e are a## sto'ed to look pon the sha#kled for' of a #on1 ered 'onster, b t there//there yo #o ld look at a thing 'onstro s and free. )t was nearthly, and the 'en were// 5o, they were not inh 'an. 8ell, yo know, that was the worst of it//this s spi#ion of their not being inh 'an. )t wo ld #o'e slowly to one. (hey howled, and leaped, and sp n, and 'ade horrid fa#es4 b t what thrilled yo was , st the tho ght of their h 'anity//like yo rs//the tho ght of yo r re'ote kinship with this wild and passionate proar. Ugly. Ees, it was gly eno gh4 b t if yo were 'an eno gh yo wo ld ad'it to yo rself that there was in yo , st the faintest tra#e of a response to the terrible frankness of that noise, a di' s spi#ion of there being a 'eaning in it whi#h yo // yo so re'ote fro' the night of first ages// #o ld #o'prehend. And why notD (he 'ind of 'an is #apable of anything//be#a se everything is in it, all the past as well as all the f t re. 8hat was there after allD Joy, fear, sorrow, devotion, valor, rage//who #an tellD //b t tr th//tr th stripped of its #loak of ti'e. :et the fool gape and sh dder//the 'an knows, and #an look on witho t a wink. 3 t he ' st at least be as ' #h of a 'an as these on the shore. %e ' st 'eet that tr th with his own tr e st ff//with his own inborn strength. Prin#iplesD Prin#iples won.t do. A#1 isitions, #lothes, pretty rags//rags that wo ld fly off at the first good shake. 5o4 yo want a deliberate belief. An appeal to 'e in this fiendish row//is thereD Iery well4 ) hear4 ) ad'it, b t ) have a voi#e too, and for good or evil 'ine is the spee#h that #annot be silen#ed. 9f #o rse, a fool, what with sheer fright and fine senti'ents, is always safe. 8ho.s that gr ntingD Eo wonder ) didn.t go ashore for a howl and a dan#eD 8ell, no//) didn.t. &ine senti'ents, yo sayD &ine senti'ents, be hanged> ) had no ti'e. ) had to 'ess abo t with white/lead and strips of woolen blanket helping to p t bandages on those leaky stea'/pipes//) tell yo . ) had to wat#h the steering, and #ir# 'vent those snags, and get the tin/pot along by hook or by #rook. (here was s rfa#e/tr th eno gh in these things to save a wiser 'an. And between whiles ) had to look after the savage who was fire'an. %e was an i'proved spe#i'en4 he #o ld fire p a verti#al boiler. %e was there below 'e, and, pon 'y word, to look at hi' was as edifying as seeing a dog in a parody of bree#hes and a feather hat, walking on his hind/legs. A few 'onths of training had done for that really fine #hap. %e s1 inted at the stea'/ga ge and at the water/ga ge with an evident effort of intrepidity//and he had filed teeth too, the poor devil, and the wool of his pate shaved into 1 eer patterns, and three orna'ental s#ars on ea#h of his #heeks. %e o ght to have been #lapping his hands and sta'ping his feet on the bank, instead of whi#h he was hard at work, a thrall to strange wit#h#raft, f ll of i'proving knowledge. %e was sef l be#a se he had been instr #ted4 and what he knew was this//that sho ld the water in that transparent thing disappear, the evil spirit inside the boiler wo ld get angry thro gh the greatness of his thirst, and take a terrible vengean#e. "o he sweated and fired p and wat#hed the glass fearf lly @with an i'pro'pt #har', 'ade of rags, tied to his ar', and a pie#e of polished bone, as big as a wat#h, st #k flatways thro gh his lower lipA, while the wooded banks slipped
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past s slowly, the short noise was left behind, the inter'inable 'iles of silen#e//and we #rept on, towards C rt6. 3 t the snags were thi#k, the water was trea#hero s and shallow, the boiler see'ed indeed to have a s lky devil in it, and th s neither that fire'an nor ) had any ti'e to peer into o r #reepy tho ghts. <"o'e fifty 'iles below the )nner "tation we #a'e pon a h t of reeds, an in#lined and 'elan#holy pole, with the nre#ogni6able tatters of what had been a flag of so'e sort flying fro' it, and a neatly sta#ked woodpile. (his was ne!pe#ted. 8e #a'e to the bank, and on the sta#k of firewood fo nd a flat pie#e of board with so'e faded pen#il/writing on it. 8hen de#iphered it saidF .8ood for yo . % rry p. Approa#h #a tio sly.. (here was a signat re, b t it was illegible//not C rt6 //a ' #h longer word. % rry p. 8hereD Up the riverD .Approa#h #a tio sly.. 8e had not done so. 3 t the warning #o ld not have been 'eant for the pla#e where it #o ld be only fo nd after approa#h. "o'ething was wrong above. 3 t what//and how ' #hD (hat was the 1 estion. 8e #o''ented adversely pon the i'be#ility of that telegraphi# style. (he b sh aro nd said nothing, and wo ld not let s look very far, either. A torn # rtain of red twill h ng in the doorway of the h t, and flapped sadly in o r fa#es. (he dwelling was dis'antled4 b t we #o ld see a white 'an had lived there not very long ago. (here re'ained a r de table //a plank on two posts4 a heap of r bbish reposed in a dark #orner, and by the door ) pi#ked p a book. )t had lost its #overs, and the pages had been th 'bed into a state of e!tre'ely dirty softness4 b t the ba#k had been lovingly stit#hed afresh with white #otton thread, whi#h looked #lean yet. )t was an e!traordinary find. )ts title was, .An )n1 iry into so'e Points of "ea'anship,. by a 'an (ower, (owson//so'e s #h na'e//;aster in his ;a,esty.s 5avy. (he 'atter looked dreary reading eno gh, with ill strative diagra's and rep lsive tables of fig res, and the #opy was si!ty years old. ) handled this a'a6ing anti1 ity with the greatest possible tenderness, lest it sho ld dissolve in 'y hands. 8ithin, (owson or (owser was in1 iring earnestly into the breaking strain of ships. #hains and ta#kle, and other s #h 'atters. 5ot a very enthralling book4 b t at the first glan#e yo #o ld see there a singleness of intention, an honest #on#ern for the right way of going to work, whi#h 'ade these h 'ble pages, tho ght o t so 'any years ago, l 'ino s with another than a professional light. (he si'ple old sailor, with his talk of #hains and p r#hases, 'ade 'e forget the , ngle and the pilgri's in a deli#io s sensation of having #o'e pon so'ething n'istakably real. " #h a book being there was wonderf l eno gh4 b t still 'ore asto nding were the notes pen#iled in the 'argin, and plainly referring to the te!t. ) #o ldn.t believe 'y eyes> (hey were in #ipher> Ees, it looked like #ipher. &an#y a 'an l gging with hi' a book of that des#ription into this nowhere and st dying it// and 'aking notes//in #ipher at that> )t was an e!/ travagant 'ystery. <) had been di'ly aware for so'e ti'e of a worrying noise, and when ) lifted 'y eyes ) saw the wood/pile was gone, and the 'anager, aided by all the pilgri's, was sho ting at 'e fro' the river/side. ) slipped the book into 'y po#ket. ) ass re yo to leave off reading was like tearing 'yself away fro' the shelter of an old and solid friendship.
1H

<) started the la'e engine ahead. .)t ' st be this 'iserable trader//this intr der,. e!#lai'ed the 'anager, looking ba#k 'alevolently at the pla#e we had left. .%e ' st be +nglish,. ) said. .)t will not save hi' fro' getting into tro ble if he is not #aref l,. ' ttered the 'anager darkly. ) observed with ass 'ed inno#en#e that no 'an was safe fro' tro ble in this world. <(he # rrent was 'ore rapid now, the stea'er see'ed at her last gasp, the stern/ wheel flopped lang idly, and ) #a ght 'yself listening on tiptoe for the ne!t beat of the float, for in sober tr th ) e!pe#ted the wret#hed thing to give p every 'o'ent. )t was like wat#hing the last fli#kers of a life. 3 t still we #rawled. "o'eti'es ) wo ld pi#k o t a tree a little way ahead to 'eas re o r progress towards C rt6 by, b t ) lost it invariably before we got abreast. (o keep the eyes so long on one thing was too ' #h for h 'an patien#e. (he 'anager displayed a bea tif l resignation. ) fretted and f 'ed and took to arg ing with 'yself whether or no ) wo ld talk openly with C rt64 b t before ) #o ld #o'e to any #on#l sion it o## rred to 'e that 'y spee#h or 'y silen#e, indeed any a#tion of 'ine, wo ld be a 'ere f tility. 8hat did it 'atter what anyone knew or ignoredD 8hat did it 'atter who was 'anagerD 9ne gets so'eti'es s #h a flash of insight. (he essentials of this affair lay deep nder the s rfa#e, beyond 'y rea#h, and beyond 'y power of 'eddling. <(owards the evening of the se#ond day we , dged o rselves abo t eight 'iles fro' C rt6.s station. ) wanted to p sh on4 b t the 'anager looked grave, and told 'e the navigation p there was so dangero s that it wo ld be advisable, the s n being very low already, to wait where we were till ne!t 'orning. ;oreover, he pointed o t that if the warning to approa#h #a tio sly were to be followed, we ' st approa#h in daylight// not at d sk, or in the dark. (his was sensible eno gh. +ight 'iles 'eant nearly three ho rs. stea'ing for s, and ) #o ld also see s spi#io s ripples at the pper end of the rea#h. 5evertheless, ) was annoyed beyond e!pression at the delay, and 'ost nreasonably too, sin#e one night 'ore #o ld not 'atter ' #h after so 'any 'onths. As we had plenty of wood, and #a tion was the word, ) bro ght p in the 'iddle of the strea'. (he rea#h was narrow, straight, with high sides like a railway # tting. (he d sk #a'e gliding into it long before the s n had set. (he # rrent ran s'ooth and swift, b t a d 'b i''obility sat on the banks. (he living trees, lashed together by the #reepers and every living b sh of the ndergrowth, 'ight have been #hanged into stone, even to the slenderest twig, to the lightest leaf. )t was not sleep//it see'ed nnat ral, like a state of tran#e. 5ot the faintest so nd of any kind #o ld be heard. Eo looked on a'a6ed, and began to s spe#t yo rself of being deaf// then the night #a'e s ddenly, and str #k yo blind as well. Abo t three in the 'orning so'e large fish leaped, and the lo d splash 'ade 'e , 'p as tho gh a g n had been fired. 8hen the s n rose there was a white fog, very war' and #la''y, and 'ore blinding than the night. )t did not shift or drive4 it was , st there, standing all ro nd yo like so'ething solid. At eight or nine, perhaps, it lifted as a sh tter lifts. 8e had a gli'pse of the towering ' ltit de of trees, of the i''ense 'atted , ngle, with the bla6ing little ball of the s n hanging over it// all perfe#tly still//and then the white sh tter #a'e down again, s'oothly, as if sliding in greased grooves. ) ordered the #hain, whi#h we had beg n to heave in, to be paid o t again. 3efore it stopped
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r nning with a ' ffled rattle, a #ry, a very lo d #ry, as of infinite desolation, soared slowly in the opa1 e air. )t #eased. A #o'plaining #la'or, 'od lated in savage dis#ords, filled o r ears. (he sheer ne!pe#tedness of it 'ade 'y hair stir nder 'y #ap. ) don.t know how it str #k the othersF to 'e it see'ed as tho gh the 'ist itself had s#rea'ed, so s ddenly, and apparently fro' all sides at on#e, did this t ' lt o s and 'o rnf l proar arise. )t # l'inated in a h rried o tbreak of al'ost intolerably e!#essive shrieking, whi#h stopped short, leaving s stiffened in a variety of silly attit des, and obstinately listening to the nearly as appalling and e!#essive silen#e. .0ood 0od> 8hat is the 'eaning//D. sta''ered at 'y elbow one of the pilgri's,//a little fat 'an, with sandy hair and red whiskers, who wore side/spring boots, and pink py,a'as t #ked into his so#ks. (wo others re'ained open/'o thed a whole 'in te, then dashed into the little #abin, to r sh o t in#ontinently and stand darting s#ared glan#es, with 8in#hesters at .ready. in their hands. 8hat we #o ld see was , st the stea'er we were on, her o tlines bl rred as tho gh she had been on the point of dissolving, and a 'isty strip of water, perhaps two feet broad, aro nd her//and that was all. (he rest of the world was nowhere, as far as o r eyes and ears were #on#erned. J st nowhere. 0one, disappeared4 swept off witho t leaving a whisper or a shadow behind. <) went forward, and ordered the #hain to be ha led in short, so as to be ready to trip the an#hor and 'ove the stea'boat at on#e if ne#essary. .8ill they atta#kD. whispered an awed voi#e. .8e will all be b t#hered in this fog,. ' r' red another. (he fa#es twit#hed with the strain, the hands tre'bled slightly, the eyes forgot to wink. )t was very # rio s to see the #ontrast of e!pressions of the white 'en and of the bla#k fellows of o r #rew, who were as ' #h strangers to that part of the river as we, tho gh their ho'es were only eight h ndred 'iles away. (he whites, of #o rse greatly dis#o'posed, had besides a # rio s look of being painf lly sho#ked by s #h an o trageo s row. (he others had an alert, nat rally interested e!pression4 b t their fa#es were essentially 1 iet, even those of the one or two who grinned as they ha led at the #hain. "everal e!#hanged short, gr nting phrases, whi#h see'ed to settle the 'atter to their satisfa#tion. (heir head'an, a yo ng, broad#hested bla#k, severely draped in dark/bl e fringed #loths, with fier#e nostrils and his hair all done p art/ f lly in oily ringlets, stood near 'e. .Aha>. ) said, , st for good fellowship.s sake. .Cat#h .i',. he snapped, with a bloodshot widening of his eyes and a flash of sharp teeth//.#at#h .i'. 0ive .i' to s.. .(o yo , ehD. ) asked4 .what wo ld yo do with the'D. .+at .i'>. he said # rtly, and, leaning his elbow on the rail, looked o t into the fog in a dignified and profo ndly pensive attit de. ) wo ld no do bt have been properly horrified, had it not o## rred to 'e that he and his #haps ' st be very h ngryF that they ' st have been growing in#reasingly h ngry for at least this 'onth past. (hey had been engaged for si! 'onths @) don.t think a single one of the' had any #lear idea of ti'e, as we at the end of #o ntless ages have. (hey still belonged to the beginnings of ti'e//had no inherited e!perien#e to tea#h the' as it wereA, and of #o rse, as long as there was a pie#e of paper written over in a##ordan#e with so'e far#i#al law or other 'ade down the river, it didn.t enter anybody.s head to tro ble
18

how they wo ld live. Certainly they had bro ght with the' so'e rotten hippo/'eat, whi#h #o ldn.t have lasted very long, anyway, even if the pilgri's hadn.t, in the 'idst of a sho#king h llabaloo, thrown a #onsiderable 1 antity of it overboard. )t looked like a high/handed pro#eeding4 b t it was really a #ase of legiti'ate self/ defense. Eo #an.t breathe dead hippo waking, sleeping, and eating, and at the sa'e ti'e keep yo r pre#ario s grip on e!isten#e. 3esides that, they had given the' every week three pie#es of brass wire, ea#h abo t nine in#hes long4 and the theory was they were to b y their provisions with that # rren#y in river/side villages. Eo #an see how (%A( worked. (here were either no villages, or the people were hostile, or the dire#tor, who like the rest of s fed o t of tins, with an o##asional old he/goat thrown in, didn.t want to stop the stea'er for so'e 'ore or less re#ondite reason. "o, nless they swallowed the wire itself, or 'ade loops of it to snare the fishes with, ) don.t see what good their e!travagant salary #o ld be to the'. ) ' st say it was paid with a reg larity worthy of a large and honorable trading #o'pany. &or the rest, the only thing to eat//tho gh it didn.t look eatable in the least//) saw in their possession was a few l 'ps of so'e st ff like half/#ooked do gh, of a dirty lavender #olor, they kept wrapped in leaves, and now and then swallowed a pie#e of, b t so s'all that it see'ed done 'ore for the looks of the thing than for any serio s p rpose of s stenan#e. 8hy in the na'e of all the gnawing devils of h nger they didn.t go for s//they were thirty to five//and have a good t #k in for on#e, a'a6es 'e now when ) think of it. (hey were big powerf l 'en, with not ' #h #apa#ity to weigh the #on/ se1 en#es, with #o rage, with strength, even yet, tho gh their skins were no longer glossy and their ' s#les no longer hard. And ) saw that so'ething restraining, one of those h 'an se#rets that baffle probability, had #o'e into play there. ) looked at the' with a swift 1 i#kening of interest//not be#a se it o## rred to 'e ) 'ight be eaten by the' before very long, tho gh ) own to yo that , st then ) per#eived//in a new light, as it were// how nwholeso'e the pilgri's looked, and ) hoped, yes, ) positively hoped, that 'y aspe#t was not so//what shall ) sayD//so// nappeti6ingF a to #h of fantasti# vanity whi#h fitted well with the drea'/sensation that pervaded all 'y days at that ti'e. Perhaps ) had a little fever too. 9ne #an.t live with one.s finger everlastingly on one.s p lse. ) had often .a little fever,. or a little to #h of other things//the playf l paw/strokes of the wilderness, the preli'inary trifling before the 'ore serio s onsla ght whi#h #a'e in d e #o rse. Ees4 ) looked at the' as yo wo ld on any h 'an being, with a # riosity of their i'p lses, 'otives, #apa#ities, weaknesses, when bro ght to the test of an ine!orable physi#al ne#essity. Bestraint> 8hat possible restraintD 8as it s perstition, disg st, patien#e, fear//or so'e kind of pri'itive honorD 5o fear #an stand p to h nger, no patien#e #an wear it o t, disg st si'ply does not e!ist where h nger is4 and as to s perstition, beliefs, and what yo 'ay #all prin#iples, they are less than #haff in a bree6e. 7on.t yo know the devilry of lingering starvation, its e!asperating tor'ent, its bla#k tho ghts, its so'ber and brooding fero#ityD 8ell, ) do. )t takes a 'an all his inborn strength to fight h nger properly. )t.s really easier to fa#e bereave'ent, dishonor, and the perdition of one.s so l//than this kind of prolonged h nger. "ad, b t tr e. And these #haps too had no earthly reason for any kind of s#r ple. Bestraint> ) wo ld , st as soon have e!pe#ted restraint fro' a hyena prowling a'ongst the #orpses of a battlefield. 3 t there was
1*

the fa#t fa#ing 'e//the fa#t da66ling, to be seen, like the foa' on the depths of the sea, like a ripple on an nfatho'able enig'a, a 'ystery greater//when ) tho ght of it//than the # rio s, ine!pli#able note of desperate grief in this savage #la'or that had swept by s on the river/bank, behind the blind whiteness of the fog.

Chapter <) looked at hi', lost in astonish'ent. (here he was before 'e, in 'otley, as tho gh he had abs#onded fro' a tro pe of 'i'es, enth siasti#, fab lo s. %is very e!isten#e was i'probable, ine!pli#able, and altogether bewildering. %e was an insol ble proble'. )t was in#on#eivable how he had e!isted, how he had s ##eeded in getting so far, how he had 'anaged to re'ain //why he did not instantly disappear. .) went a little farther,. he said, .then still a little farther//till ) had gone so far that ) don.t know how ).ll ever get ba#k. 5ever 'ind. Plenty ti'e. ) #an 'anage. Eo take C rt6 away 1 i#k//1 i#k//) tell yo .. (he gla'o r of yo th enveloped his parti#olored rags, his destit tion, his loneliness, the essential desolation of his f tile wanderings. &or 'onths//for years//his life hadn.t been worth a day.s p r#hase4 and there he was gallantly, tho ghtlessly alive, to all appearan#e indestr #tible solely by the virt e of his few years and of his nrefle#ting a da#ity. ) was sed #ed into so'ething like ad'iration //like envy. 0la'o r rged hi' on, gla'o r kept hi' ns#athed. %e s rely wanted nothing fro' the wilderness b t spa#e to breathe in and to p sh on thro gh. %is need was to e!ist, and to 'ove onwards at the greatest possible risk, and with a 'a!i' ' of privation. )f the absol tely p re, n#al# lating, npra#ti#al spirit of advent re had ever r led a h 'an being, it r led this be/pat#hed yo th. ) al'ost envied hi' the possession of this 'odest and #lear fla'e. )t see'ed to have #on/ s 'ed all tho ght of self so #o'pletely, that, even while he was talking to yo , yo forgot that it was he//the 'an before yo r eyes//who had gone thro gh these things. ) did not envy hi' his devotion to C rt6, tho gh. %e had not 'editated over it. )t #a'e to hi', and he a##epted it with a sort of eager fatalis'. ) ' st say that to 'e it appeared abo t the 'ost dangero s thing in every way he had #o'e pon so far. <(hey had #o'e together navoidably, like two ships be#al'ed near ea#h other, and lay r bbing sides at last. ) s ppose C rt6 wanted an a dien#e, be#a se on a #ertain o##asion, when en#a'ped in the forest, they had talked all night, or 'ore probably C rt6 had talked. .8e talked of everything,. he said, 1 ite transported at the re#olle#tion. .) forgot there was s #h a thing as sleep. (he night did not see' to last an ho r. +verything> +verything> . . . 9f love too.. .Ah, he talked to yo of love>. ) said, ' #h a' sed. .)t isn.t what yo think,. he #ried, al'ost passionately. .)t was in general. %e 'ade 'e see things//things.. <%e threw his ar's p. 8e were on de#k at the ti'e, and the head'an of 'y wood/ # tters, lo nging near by, t rned pon hi' his heavy and glittering eyes. ) looked
2-

aro nd, and ) don.t know why, b t ) ass re yo that never, never before, did this land, this river, this , ngle, the very ar#h of this bla6ing sky, appear to 'e so hopeless and so dark, so i'penetrable to h 'an tho ght, so pitiless to h 'an weakness. .And, ever sin#e, yo have been with hi', of #o rseD. ) said. <9n the #ontrary. )t appears their inter#o rse had been very ' #h broken by vario s #a ses. %e had, as he infor'ed 'e pro dly, 'anaged to n rse C rt6 thro gh two illnesses @he all ded to it as yo wo ld to so'e risky featA, b t as a r le C rt6 wandered alone, far in the depths of the forest. .Iery often #o'ing to this station, ) had to wait days and days before he wo ld t rn p,. he said. .Ah, it was worth waiting for>// so'eti'es.. .8hat was he doingD e!ploring or whatD. ) asked. .9h yes, of #o rse4. he had dis#overed lots of villages, a lake too//he did not know e!a#tly in what dire#tion4 it was dangero s to in1 ire too ' #h//b t 'ostly his e!peditions had been for ivory. .3 t he had no goods to trade with by that ti'e,. ) ob,e#ted. .(here.s a good lot of #artridges left even yet,. he answered, looking away. .(o speak plainly, he raided the #o ntry,. ) said. %e nodded. .5ot alone, s rely>. %e ' ttered so'ething abo t the villages ro nd that lake. .C rt6 got the tribe to follow hi', did heD. ) s ggested. %e fidgeted a little. .(hey adored hi',. he said. (he tone of these words was so e!traordinary that ) looked at hi' sear#hingly. )t was # rio s to see his 'ingled eagerness and rel #tan#e to speak of C rt6. (he 'an filled his life, o## pied his tho ghts, swayed his e'otions. .8hat #an yo e!pe#tD. he b rst o t4 .he #a'e to the' with th nder and lightning, yo know//and they had never seen anything like it//and very terrible. %e #o ld be very terrible. Eo #an.t , dge ;r. C rt6 as yo wo ld an ordinary 'an. 5o, no, no> 5ow// , st to give yo an idea//) don.t 'ind telling yo , he wanted to shoot 'e too one day//b t ) don.t , dge hi'.. ."hoot yo >. ) #ried. .8hat forD. .8ell, ) had a s'all lot of ivory the #hief of that village near 'y ho se gave 'e. Eo see ) sed to shoot ga'e for the'. 8ell, he wanted it, and wo ldn.t hear reason. %e de#lared he wo ld shoot 'e nless ) gave hi' the ivory and then #leared o t of the #o ntry, be#a se he #o ld do so, and had a fan#y for it, and there was nothing on earth to prevent hi' killing who' he ,olly well pleased. And it was tr e too. ) gave hi' the ivory. 8hat did ) #are> 3 t ) didn.t #lear o t. 5o, no. ) #o ldn.t leave hi'. ) had to be #aref l, of #o rse, till we got friendly again for a ti'e. %e had his se#ond illness then. Afterwards ) had to keep o t of the way4 b t ) didn.t 'ind. %e was living for the 'ost part in those villages on the lake. 8hen he #a'e down to the river, so'eti'es he wo ld take to 'e, and so'eti'es it was better for 'e to be #aref l. (his 'an s ffered too ' #h. %e hated all this, and so'ehow he #o ldn.t get away. 8hen ) had a #han#e ) begged hi' to try and leave while there was ti'e4 ) offered to go ba#k with hi'. And he wo ld say yes, and then he wo ld re'ain4 go off on another ivory h nt4 disappear for weeks4 forget hi'self a'ongst these people//forget hi'self//yo know.. .8hy> he.s 'ad,. ) said. %e protested indignantly. ;r. C rt6 #o ldn.t be 'ad. )f ) had heard hi' talk, only two days ago, ) wo ldn.t dare hint at s #h a thing. . . . ) had taken p 'y bino# lars while we talked and was looking at the shore, sweeping the li'it of the forest at ea#h side
21

and at the ba#k of the ho se. (he #ons#io sness of there being people in that b sh, so silent, so 1 iet//as silent and 1 iet as the r ined ho se on the hill//'ade 'e neasy. (here was no sign on the fa#e of nat re of this a'a6ing tale that was not so ' #h told as s ggested to 'e in desolate e!#la'ations, #o'pleted by shr gs, in interr pted phrases, in hints ending in deep sighs. (he woods were n'oved, like a 'ask// heavy, like the #losed door of a prison//they looked with their air of hidden knowledge, of patient e!pe#tation, of napproa#hable silen#e. (he B ssian was e!plaining to 'e that it was only lately that ;r. C rt6 had #o'e down to the river, bringing along with hi' all the fighting 'en of that lake tribe. %e had been absent for several 'onths//getting hi'self adored, ) s ppose//and had #o'e down ne!pe#tedly, with the intention to all appearan#e of 'aking a raid either a#ross the river or down strea'. +vidently the appetite for 'ore ivory had got the better of the// what shall ) sayD//less 'aterial aspirations. %owever he had got ' #h worse s ddenly. .) heard he was lying helpless, and so ) #a'e p//took 'y #han#e,. said the B ssian. .9h, he is bad, very bad.. ) dire#ted 'y glass to the ho se. (here were no signs of life, b t there was the r ined roof, the long ' d wall peeping above the grass, with three little s1 are window/holes, no two of the sa'e si6e4 all this bro ght within rea#h of 'y hand, as it were. And then ) 'ade a br s1 e 'ove'ent, and one of the re'aining posts of that vanished fen#e leaped p in the field of 'y glass. Eo re'e'ber ) told yo ) had been str #k at the distan#e by #ertain atte'pts at orna'entation, rather re'arkable in the r ino s aspe#t of the pla#e. 5ow ) had s ddenly a nearer view, and its first res lt was to 'ake 'e throw 'y head ba#k as if before a blow. (hen ) went #aref lly fro' post to post with 'y glass, and ) saw 'y 'istake. (hese ro nd knobs were not orna'ental b t sy'boli#4 they were e!pressive and p 66ling, striking and dist rbing//food for tho ght and also for the v lt res if there had been any looking down fro' the sky4 b t at all events for s #h ants as were ind strio s eno gh to as#end the pole. (hey wo ld have been even 'ore i'pressive, those heads on the stakes, if their fa#es had not been t rned to the ho se. 9nly one, the first ) had 'ade o t, was fa#ing 'y way. ) was not so sho#ked as yo 'ay think. (he start ba#k ) had given was really nothing b t a 'ove'ent of s rprise. ) had e!pe#ted to see a knob of wood there, yo know. ) ret rned deliberately to the first ) had seen// and there it was, bla#k, dried, s nken, with #losed eyelids,//a head that see'ed to sleep at the top of that pole, and, with the shr nken dry lips showing a narrow white line of the teeth, was s'iling too, s'iling #ontin o sly at so'e endless and ,o#ose drea' of that eternal sl 'ber. <) a' not dis#losing any trade se#rets. )n fa#t the 'anager said afterwards that ;r. C rt6.s 'ethods had r ined the distri#t. ) have no opinion on that point, b t ) want yo #learly to nderstand that there was nothing e!a#tly profitable in these heads being there. (hey only showed that ;r. C rt6 la#ked restraint in the gratifi#ation of his vario s l sts, that there was so'ething wanting in hi'//so'e s'all 'atter whi#h, when the pressing need arose, #o ld not be fo nd nder his 'agnifi#ent elo1 en#e. 8hether he knew of this defi#ien#y hi'self ) #an.t say. ) think the knowledge #a'e to hi' at last//only at the very last. 3 t the wilderness had fo nd hi' o t early, and had taken on hi' a terrible vengean#e for the fantasti# invasion. ) think it had whispered to hi' things abo t hi'self whi#h he did not know, things of whi#h he had no
22

#on#eption till he took #o nsel with this great solit de//and the whisper had proved irresistibly fas#inating. )t e#hoed lo dly within hi' be#a se he was hollow at the #ore. . . . ) p t down the glass, and the head that had appeared near eno gh to be spoken to see'ed at on#e to have leaped away fro' 'e into ina##essible distan#e. <(he ad'irer of ;r. C rt6 was a bit #restfallen. )n a h rried, indistin#t voi#e he began to ass re 'e he had not dared to take these//say, sy'bols//down. %e was not afraid of the natives4 they wo ld not stir till ;r. C rt6 gave the word. %is as#enden#y was e!traordinary. (he #a'ps of these people s rro nded the pla#e, and the #hiefs #a'e every day to see hi'. (hey wo ld #rawl. . . . .) don.t want to know anything of the #ere'onies sed when approa#hing ;r. C rt6,. ) sho ted. C rio s, this feeling that #a'e over 'e that s #h details wo ld be 'ore intolerable than those heads drying on the stakes nder ;r. C rt6.s windows. After all, that was only a savage sight, while ) see'ed at one bo nd to have been transported into so'e lightless region of s btle horrors, where p re, n#o'pli#ated savagery was a positive relief, being so'ething that had a right to e!ist//obvio sly//in the s nshine. (he yo ng 'an looked at 'e with s rprise. ) s ppose it did not o## r to hi' ;r. C rt6 was no idol of 'ine. %e forgot ) hadn.t heard any of these splendid 'onolog es on, what was itD on love, , sti#e, #ond #t of life //or what not. )f it had #o'e to #rawling before ;r. C rt6, he #rawled as ' #h as the veriest savage of the' all. ) had no idea of the #onditions, he saidF these heads were the heads of rebels. ) sho#ked hi' e!#essively by la ghing. Bebels> 8hat wo ld be the ne!t definition ) was to hearD (here had been ene'ies, #ri'inals, workers//and these were rebels. (hose rebellio s heads looked very s bd ed to 'e on their sti#ks. .Eo don.t know how s #h a life tries a 'an like C rt6,. #ried C rt6.s last dis#iple. .8ell, and yo D. ) said. .)> )> ) a' a si'ple 'an. ) have no great tho ghts. ) want nothing fro' anybody. %ow #an yo #o'pare 'e to . . .D< %is feelings were too ' #h for spee#h, and s ddenly he broke down. .) don.t nderstand,. he groaned. .).ve been doing 'y best to keep hi' alive, and that.s eno gh. ) had no hand in all this. ) have no abilities. (here hasn.t been a drop of 'edi#ine or a 'o thf l of invalid food for 'onths here. %e was sha'ef lly abandoned. A 'an like this, with s #h ideas. "ha'ef lly> "ha'ef lly> )//)//haven.t slept for the last ten nights. . . .. <%is voi#e lost itself in the #al' of the evening. (he long shadows of the forest had slipped down hill while we talked, had gone far beyond the r ined hovel, beyond the sy'boli# row of stakes. All this was in the gloo', while we down there were yet in the s nshine, and the stret#h of the river abreast of the #learing glittered in a still and da66ling splendor, with a ' rky and over/shadowed bend above and below. 5ot a living so l was seen on the shore. (he b shes did not r stle. <" ddenly ro nd the #orner of the ho se a gro p of 'en appeared, as tho gh they had #o'e p fro' the gro nd. (hey waded waist/deep in the grass, in a #o'pa#t body, bearing an i'provised stret#her in their 'idst. )nstantly, in the e'ptiness of the lands#ape, a #ry arose whose shrillness pier#ed the still air like a sharp arrow flying straight to the very heart of the land4 and, as if by en#hant'ent, strea's of h 'an beings//of naked h 'an beings//with spears in their hands, with bows, with shields,
2?

with wild glan#es and savage 'ove'ents, were po red into the #learing by the dark/ fa#ed and pensive forest. (he b shes shook, the grass swayed for a ti'e, and then everything stood still in attentive i''obility. <.5ow, if he does not say the right thing to the' we are all done for,. said the B ssian at 'y elbow. (he knot of 'en with the stret#her had stopped too, half/way to the stea'er, as if petrified. ) saw the 'an on the stret#her sit p, lank and with an plifted ar', above the sho lders of the bearers. .:et s hope that the 'an who #an talk so well of love in general will find so'e parti# lar reason to spare s this ti'e,. ) said. ) resented bitterly the abs rd danger of o r sit ation, as if to be at the 'er#y of that atro#io s phanto' had been a dishonoring ne#essity. ) #o ld not hear a so nd, b t thro gh 'y glasses ) saw the thin ar' e!tended #o''andingly, the lower ,aw 'oving, the eyes of that apparition shining darkly far in its bony head that nodded with grotes1 e ,erks. C rt6//C rt6//that 'eans short in 0er'an//don.t itD 8ell, the na'e was as tr e as everything else in his life//and death. %e looked at least seven feet long. %is #overing had fallen off, and his body e'erged fro' it pitif l and appalling as fro' a winding/sheet. ) #o ld see the #age of his ribs all astir, the bones of his ar' waving. )t was as tho gh an ani'ated i'age of death #arved o t of old ivory had been shaking its hand with 'ena#es at a 'otionless #rowd of 'en 'ade of dark and glittering bron6e. ) saw hi' open his 'o th wide//it gave hi' a weirdly vora#io s aspe#t, as tho gh he had wanted to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the 'en before hi'. A deep voi#e rea#hed 'e faintly. %e ' st have been sho ting. %e fell ba#k s ddenly. (he stret#her shook as the bearers staggered forward again, and al'ost at the sa'e ti'e ) noti#ed that the #rowd of savages was vanishing witho t any per#eptible 'ove'ent of retreat, as if the forest that had e,e#ted these beings so s ddenly had drawn the' in again as the breath is drawn in a long aspiration. <"o'e of the pilgri's behind the stret#her #arried his ar's//two shot/g ns, a heavy rifle, and a light revolver/#arbine//the th nderbolts of that pitif l J piter. (he 'anager bent over hi' ' r' ring as he walked beside his head. (hey laid hi' down in one of the little #abins //, st a roo' for a bed/pla#e and a #a'p/stool or two, yo know. 8e had bro ght his belated #orresponden#e, and a lot of torn envelopes and open letters littered his bed. %is hand roa'ed feebly a'ongst these papers. ) was str #k by the fire of his eyes and the #o'posed lang or of his e!pression. )t was not so ' #h the e!ha stion of disease. %e did not see' in pain. (his shadow looked satiated and #al', as tho gh for the 'o'ent it had had its fill of all the e'otions. <%e r stled one of the letters, and looking straight in 'y fa#e said, .) a' glad.. "o'ebody had been writing to hi' abo t 'e. (hese spe#ial re#o''endations were t rning p again. (he vol 'e of tone he e'itted witho t effort, al'ost witho t the tro ble of 'oving his lips, a'a6ed 'e. A voi#e> a voi#e> )t was grave, profo nd, vibrating, while the 'an did not see' #apable of a whisper. %owever, he had eno gh strength in hi'//fa#titio s no do bt//to very nearly 'ake an end of s, as yo shall hear dire#tly.

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<(he 'anager appeared silently in the doorway4 ) stepped o t at on#e and he drew the # rtain after 'e. (he B ssian, eyed # rio sly by the pilgri's, was staring at the shore. ) followed the dire#tion of his glan#e. <7ark h 'an shapes #o ld be 'ade o t in the distan#e, flitting indistin#tly against the gloo'y border of the forest, and near the river two bron6e fig res, leaning on tall spears, stood in the s nlight nder fantasti# headdresses of spotted skins, warlike and still in stat es1 e repose. And fro' right to left along the lighted shore 'oved a wild and gorgeo s apparition of a wo'an. <"he walked with 'eas red steps, draped in striped and fringed #loths, treading the earth pro dly, with a slight ,ingle and flash of barbaro s orna'ents. "he #arried her head high4 her hair was done in the shape of a hel'et4 she had brass leggings to the knee, brass wire ga ntlets to the elbow, a #ri'son spot on her tawny #heek, inn 'erable ne#kla#es of glass beads on her ne#k4 bi6arre things, #har's, gifts of wit#h/'en, that h ng abo t her, glittered and tre'bled at every step. "he ' st have had the val e of several elephant t sks pon her. "he was savage and s perb, wild/ eyed and 'agnifi#ent4 there was so'ething o'ino s and stately in her deliberate progress. And in the h sh that had fallen s ddenly pon the whole sorrowf l land, the i''ense wilderness, the #olossal body of the fe# nd and 'ysterio s life see'ed to look at her, pensive, as tho gh it had been looking at the i'age of its own tenebro s and passionate so l. <"he #a'e abreast of the stea'er, stood still, and fa#ed s. %er long shadow fell to the water.s edge. %er fa#e had a tragi# and fier#e aspe#t of wild sorrow and of d 'b pain 'ingled with the fear of so'e str ggling, half/shaped resolve. "he stood looking at s witho t a stir and like the wilderness itself, with an air of brooding over an ins#r table p rpose. A whole 'in te passed, and then she 'ade a step forward. (here was a low ,ingle, a glint of yellow 'etal, a sway of fringed draperies, and she stopped as if her heart had failed her. (he yo ng fellow by 'y side growled. (he pilgri's ' r' red at 'y ba#k. "he looked at s all as if her life had depended pon the nswerving steadiness of her glan#e. " ddenly she opened her bared ar's and threw the' p rigid above her head, as tho gh in an n#ontrollable desire to to #h the sky, and at the sa'e ti'e the swift shadows darted o t on the earth, swept aro nd on the river, gathering the stea'er into a shadowy e'bra#e. A for'idable silen#e h ng over the s#ene. <"he t rned away slowly, walked on, following the bank, and passed into the b shes to the left. 9n#e only her eyes glea'ed ba#k at s in the d sk of the thi#kets before she disappeared. <.)f she had offered to #o'e aboard ) really think ) wo ld have tried to shoot her,. said the 'an of pat#hes, nervo sly. .) had been risking 'y life every day for the last fortnight to keep her o t of the ho se. "he got in one day and ki#ked p a row abo t those 'iserable rags ) pi#ked p in the storeroo' to 'end 'y #lothes with. ) wasn.t de#ent. At least it ' st have been that, for she talked like a f ry to C rt6 for an ho r,
25

pointing at 'e now and then. ) don.t nderstand the diale#t of this tribe. : #kily for 'e, ) fan#y C rt6 felt too ill that day to #are, or there wo ld have been 'is#hief. ) don.t nderstand. . . . 5o//it.s too ' #h for 'e. Ah, well, it.s all over now.. <At this 'o'ent ) heard C rt6.s deep voi#e behind the # rtain, ."ave 'e>//save the ivory, yo 'ean. 7on.t tell 'e. "ave ;+> 8hy, ).ve had to save yo . Eo are interr pting 'y plans now. "i#k> "i#k> 5ot so si#k as yo wo ld like to believe. 5ever 'ind. ).ll #arry 'y ideas o t yet//) will ret rn. ).ll show yo what #an be done. Eo with yo r little peddling notions//yo are interfering with 'e. ) will ret rn. ) . . .. <(he 'anager #a'e o t. %e did 'e the honor to take 'e nder the ar' and lead 'e aside. .%e is very low, very low,. he said. %e #onsidered it ne#essary to sigh, b t negle#ted to be #onsistently sorrowf l. .8e have done all we #o ld for hi'//haven.t weD 3 t there is no disg ising the fa#t, ;r. C rt6 has done 'ore har' than good to the Co'pany. %e did not see the ti'e was not ripe for vigoro s a#tion. Ca tio sly, #a tio sly//that.s 'y prin#iple. 8e ' st be #a tio s yet. (he distri#t is #losed to s for a ti'e. 7eplorable> Upon the whole, the trade will s ffer. ) don.t deny there is a re'arkable 1 antity of ivory//'ostly fossil. 8e ' st save it, at all events//b t look how pre#ario s the position is//and whyD 3e#a se the 'ethod is nso nd.. .7o yo ,. said ), looking at the shore, .#all it < nso nd 'ethod<D. .8itho t do bt,. he e!#lai'ed, hotly. .7on.t yo D. . . . .5o 'ethod at all,. ) ' r' red after a while. .+!a#tly,. he e! lted. .) anti#ipated this. "hows a #o'plete want of , dg'ent. )t is 'y d ty to point it o t in the proper 1 arter.. .9h,. said ), .that fellow//what.s his na'eD//the bri#k'aker, will 'ake a readable report for yo .. %e appeared #onfo nded for a 'o'ent. )t see'ed to 'e ) had never breathed an at'osphere so vile, and ) t rned 'entally to C rt6 for relief//positively for relief. .5evertheless ) think ;r. C rt6 is a re'arkable 'an,. ) said with e'phasis. %e started, dropped on 'e a #old heavy glan#e, said very 1 ietly, .%e 8A",. and t rned his ba#k on 'e. ;y ho r of favor was over4 ) fo nd 'yself l 'ped along with C rt6 as a partisan of 'ethods for whi#h the ti'e was not ripeF ) was nso nd> Ah> b t it was so'ething to have at least a #hoi#e of night'ares. <) had t rned to the wilderness really, not to ;r. C rt6, who, ) was ready to ad'it, was as good as b ried. And for a 'o'ent it see'ed to 'e as if ) also were b ried in a vast grave f ll of nspeakable se#rets. ) felt an intolerable weight oppressing 'y breast, the s'ell of the da'p earth, the nseen presen#e of vi#torio s #orr ption, the darkness of an i'penetrable night. . . . (he B ssian tapped 'e on the sho lder. ) heard hi' ' 'bling and sta''ering so'ething abo t .brother sea'an//#o ldn.t #on#eal//knowledge of 'atters that wo ld affe#t ;r. C rt6.s rep tation.. ) waited. &or hi' evidently ;r. C rt6 was not in his grave4 ) s spe#t that for hi' ;r. C rt6 was one of the i''ortals. .8ell>. said ) at last, .speak o t. As it happens, ) a' ;r. C rt6.s friend//in a way..
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<%e stated with a good deal of for'ality that had we not been .of the sa'e profession,. he wo ld have kept the 'atter to hi'self witho t regard to #onse/ 1 en#es. .%e s spe#ted there was an a#tive ill/will towards hi' on the part of these white 'en that//. .Eo are right,. ) said, re'e'bering a #ertain #onversation ) had overheard. .(he 'anager thinks yo o ght to be hanged.. %e showed a #on#ern at this intelligen#e whi#h a' sed 'e at first. .) had better get o t of the way 1 ietly,. he said, earnestly. .) #an do no 'ore for C rt6 now, and they wo ld soon find so'e e!# se. 8hat.s to stop the'D (here.s a 'ilitary post three h ndred 'iles fro' here.. .8ell, pon 'y word,. said ), .perhaps yo had better go if yo have any friends a'ongst the savages near by.. .Plenty,. he said. .(hey are si'ple people//and ) want nothing, yo know.. %e stood biting his lips, thenF .) don.t want any har' to happen to these whites here, b t of #o rse ) was think ing of ;r. C rt6.s rep tation//b t yo are a brother sea'an and//. .All right,. said ), after a ti'e. .;r. C rt6.s rep tation is safe with 'e.. ) did not know how tr ly ) spoke. <%e infor'ed 'e, lowering his voi#e, that it was C rt6 who had ordered the atta#k to be 'ade on the stea'er. .%e hated so'eti'es the idea of being taken away//and then again. . . . 3 t ) don.t nderstand these 'atters. ) a' a si'ple 'an. %e tho ght it wo ld s#are yo away//that yo wo ld give it p, thinking hi' dead. ) #o ld not stop hi'. 9h, ) had an awf l ti'e of it this last 'onth.. .Iery well,. ) said. .%e is all right now.. .Ee/e/es,. he ' ttered, not very #onvin#ed apparently. .(hanks,. said )4 .) shall keep 'y eyes open.. .3 t 1 iet//ehD. he rged, an!io sly. .)t wo ld be awf l for his rep tation if anybody here//. ) pro'ised a #o'plete dis#retion with great gravity. .) have a #anoe and three bla#k fellows waiting not very far. ) a' off. Co ld yo give 'e a few ;artini/%enry #artridgesD. ) #o ld, and did, with proper se#re#y. %e helped hi'self, with a wink at 'e, to a handf l of 'y toba##o. .3etween sailors//yo know// good +nglish toba##o.. At the door of the pilot/ho se he t rned ro nd //.) say, haven.t yo a pair of shoes yo #o ld spareD. %e raised one leg. .:ook.. (he soles were tied with knotted strings sandal/wise nder his bare feet. ) rooted o t an old pair, at whi#h he looked with ad'iration before t #king it nder his left ar'. 9ne of his po#kets @bright redA was b lging with #artridges, fro' the other @dark bl eA peeped .(owson.s )n1 iry,. G#., G#. %e see'ed to think hi'self e!#ellently well e1 ipped for a renewed en#o nter with the wilderness. .Ah> ).ll never, never 'eet s #h a 'an again. Eo o ght to have heard hi' re#ite poetry//his own too it was, he told 'e. Poetry>. %e rolled his eyes at the re#olle#tion of these delights. .9h, he enlarged 'y 'ind>. .0ood/ by,. said ). %e shook hands and vanished in the night. "o'eti'es ) ask 'yself whether ) had ever really seen hi'//whether it was possible to 'eet s #h a pheno'e/ non> . . .

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<8hen ) woke p shortly after 'idnight his warning #a'e to 'y 'ind with its hint of danger that see'ed, in the starred darkness, real eno gh to 'ake 'e get p for the p rpose of having a look ro nd. 9n the hill a big fire b rned, ill 'inating fitf lly a #rooked #orner of the station/ho se. 9ne of the agents with a pi#ket of a few of o r bla#ks, ar'ed for the p rpose, was keeping g ard over the ivory4 b t deep within the forest, red glea's that wavered, that see'ed to sink and rise fro' the gro nd a'ongst #onf sed #ol 'nar shapes of intense bla#kness, showed the e!a#t position of the #a'p where ;r. C rt6.s adorers were keeping their neasy vigil. (he 'onotono s beating of a big dr ' filled the air with ' ffled sho#ks and a lingering vibration. A steady droning so nd of 'any 'en #hanting ea#h to hi'self so'e weird in#antation #a'e o t fro' the bla#k, flat wall of the woods as the h ''ing of bees #o'es o t of a hive, and had a strange nar#oti# effe#t pon 'y half/awake senses. ) believe ) do6ed off leaning over the rail, till an abr pt b rst of yells, an over/ whel'ing o tbreak of a pent/ p and 'ysterio s fren6y, woke 'e p in a bewildered wonder. )t was # t short all at on#e, and the low droning went on with an effe#t of a dible and soothing silen#e. ) glan#ed #as ally into the little #abin. A light was b rning within, b t ;r. C rt6 was not there. <) think ) wo ld have raised an o t#ry if ) had believed 'y eyes. 3 t ) didn.t believe the' at first//the thing see'ed so i'possible. (he fa#t is ) was #o'pletely nnerved by a sheer blank fright, p re abstra#t terror, n#onne#ted with any distin#t shape of physi#al danger. 8hat 'ade this e'otion so overpowering was//how shall ) define itD//the 'oral sho#k ) re#eived, as if so'ething altogether 'onstro s, intolerable to tho ght and odio s to the so l, had been thr st pon 'e ne!pe#tedly. (his lasted of #o rse the 'erest fra#tion of a se#ond, and then the s al sense of #o''onpla#e, deadly danger, the possibility of a s dden onsla ght and 'assa#re, or so'ething of the kind, whi#h ) saw i'pending, was positively wel#o'e and #o'posing. )t pa#ified 'e, in fa#t, so ' #h, that ) did not raise an alar'. <(here was an agent b ttoned p inside an lster and sleeping on a #hair on de#k within three feet of e. (he yells had not awakened hi'4 he snored very slightly4 ) left hi' to his sl 'bers and leaped ashore. ) did not betray ;r. C rt6//it was ordered ) sho ld never betray hi'//it was written ) sho ld be loyal to the night'are of 'y #hoi#e. ) was an!io s to deal with this shadow by 'yself alone,//and to this day ) don.t know why ) was so ,ealo s of sharing with anyone the pe# liar bla#kness of that e!perien#e. <As soon as ) got on the bank ) saw a trail//a broad trail thro gh the grass. ) re'e'ber the e! ltation with whi#h ) said to 'yself, .%e #an.t walk//he is #rawling on all/fo rs//).ve got hi'.. (he grass was wet with dew. ) strode rapidly with #len#hed fists. ) fan#y ) had so'e vag e notion of falling pon hi' and giving hi' a dr bbing. ) don.t know. ) had so'e i'be#ile tho ghts. (he knitting old wo'an with the #at obtr ded herself pon 'y 'e'ory as a 'ost i'proper person to be sitting at the other end of s #h an affair. ) saw a row of pilgri's s1 irting lead in the air o t of 8in#hesters held to the hip. ) tho ght ) wo ld never get ba#k to the stea'er, and i'agined 'yself living alone and nar'ed in the woods to an advan#ed age. " #h
28

silly things//yo know. And ) re'e'ber ) #onfo nded the beat of the dr ' with the beating of 'y heart, and was pleased at its #al' reg larity. <) kept to the tra#k tho gh//then stopped to listen. (he night was very #learF a dark bl e spa#e, sparkling with dew and starlight, in whi#h bla#k things stood very still. ) tho ght ) #o ld see a kind of 'otion ahead of 'e. ) was strangely #o#ks re of everything that night. ) a#t ally left the tra#k and ran in a wide se'i#ir#le @) verily believe #h #kling to 'yselfA so as to get in front of that stir, of that 'otion ) had seen// if indeed ) had seen anything. ) was #ir# 'venting C rt6 as tho gh it had been a boyish ga'e. <) #a'e pon hi', and, if he had not heard 'e #o'ing, ) wo ld have fallen over hi' too, b t he got p in ti'e. %e rose, nsteady, long, pale, indistin#t, like a vapor e!haled by the earth, and swayed slightly, 'isty and silent before 'e4 while at 'y ba#k the fires loo'ed between the trees, and the ' r' r of 'any voi#es iss ed fro' the forest. ) had # t hi' off #leverly4 b t when a#t ally #onfronting hi' ) see'ed to #o'e to 'y senses, ) saw the danger in its right proportion. )t was by no 'eans over yet. " ppose he began to sho tD (ho gh he #o ld hardly stand, there was still plenty of vigor in his voi#e. .0o away//hide yo rself,. he said, in that profo nd tone. )t was very awf l. ) glan#ed ba#k. 8e were within thirty yards fro' the nearest fire. A bla#k fig re stood p, strode on long bla#k legs, waving long bla#k ar's, a#ross the glow. )t had horns//antelope horns, ) think//on its head. "o'e sor#erer, so'e wit#h/'an, no do btF it looked fiend/like eno gh. .7o yo know what yo are doingD. ) whispered. .Perfe#tly,. he answered, raising his voi#e for that single wordF it so nded to 'e far off and yet lo d, like a hail thro gh a speaking/tr 'pet. )f he 'akes a row we are lost, ) tho ght to 'yself. (his #learly was not a #ase for fisti# ffs, even apart fro' the very nat ral aversion ) had to beat that "hadow//this wandering and tor'ented thing. .Eo will be lost,. ) said//. tterly lost.. 9ne gets so'eti'es s #h a flash of inspiration, yo know. ) did say the right thing, tho gh indeed he #o ld not have been 'ore irretrievably lost than he was at this very 'o'ent, when the fo ndations of o r inti'a#y were being laid//to end re//to end re//even to the end//even beyond.

2*