Chapter 11

The Hunt for the Man

8 min

It came before my mind with an unreasonable hope of escape that the outer door of my room was still open to me. I was convinced now, absolutely assured, that Moreau had been vivisecting a human being. All the time since I had heard his name, I had been trying to link in my mind in some way the grotesque animalism of the islanders with his abominations; and now I thought I saw it all. The memory of his work on the transfusion of blood recurred to me. These creatures I had seen were the victims of some hideous experiment. These sickening scoundrels had merely intended to keep me back, to fool me with their display of confidence, and presently to fall upon me with a fate more horrible than death,—with torture; and after torture the most hideous degradation it is possible to conceive,—to send me off a lost soul, a beast, to the rest of their Comus rout.

An unreasonable hope of escape came to me. The outer door of my room was still open to me. I was now convinced, absolutely certain, that Moreau had been vivisecting a human being. Ever since I had heard his name, I had tried to connect his abominations with the islanders’ grotesque animal nature. Now I thought I understood it all. I remembered his work on blood transfusions. The creatures I had seen were the victims of some hideous experiment. These sickening scoundrels had only meant to hold me back and fool me by acting confident. Soon they would attack me and subject me to a fate worse than death: torture. After torture would come the most hideous degradation imaginable. They would send me off, a lost soul and a beast, to join the rest of their Comus rout.

I looked round for some weapon. Nothing. Then with an inspiration I turned over the deck chair, put my foot on the side of it, and tore away the side rail. It happened that a nail came away with the wood, and projecting, gave a touch of danger to an otherwise petty weapon. I heard a step outside, and incontinently flung open the door and found Montgomery within a yard of it. He meant to lock the outer door! I raised this nailed stick of mine and cut at his face; but he sprang back. I hesitated a moment, then turned and fled, round the corner of the house. “Prendick, man!” I heard his astonished cry, “don’t be a silly ass, man!”

I looked around for a weapon. Nothing. Then an idea struck me. I turned over the deck chair, put my foot on its side, and tore off the side rail. A nail came away with the wood and stuck out, making an otherwise puny weapon a little dangerous. I heard a step outside and immediately flung open the door. Montgomery was less than a yard away. He meant to lock the outer door! I raised my nailed stick and swung at his face, but he jumped back. I hesitated for a moment, then turned and fled around the corner of the house. I heard his astonished cry: “Prendick, man! Don’t be a silly ass, man!”

Another minute, thought I, and he would have had me locked in, and as ready as a hospital rabbit for my fate. He emerged behind the corner, for I heard him shout, “Prendick!” Then he began to run after me, shouting things as he ran. This time running blindly, I went northeastward in a direction at right angles to my previous expedition. Once, as I went running headlong up the beach, I glanced over my shoulder and saw his attendant with him. I ran furiously up the slope, over it, then turning eastward along a rocky valley fringed on either side with jungle I ran for perhaps a mile altogether, my chest straining, my heart beating in my ears; and then hearing nothing of Montgomery or his man, and feeling upon the verge of exhaustion, I doubled sharply back towards the beach as I judged, and lay down in the shelter of a canebrake. There I remained for a long time, too fearful to move, and indeed too fearful even to plan a course of action. The wild scene about me lay sleeping silently under the sun, and the only sound near me was the thin hum of some small gnats that had discovered me. Presently I became aware of a drowsy breathing sound, the soughing of the sea upon the beach.

Another minute, I thought, and he would have locked me in, ready for my fate like a rabbit in a hospital. He came around the corner, because I heard him shout, “Prendick!” Then he began to chase me, shouting as he ran. This time I ran blindly northeast, at right angles to the direction I had taken before. As I raced up the beach, I glanced over my shoulder and saw his attendant with him. I ran furiously up the slope and over it. Then I turned east along a rocky valley, with jungle on both sides. I ran perhaps a mile in all, my chest straining and my heart beating in my ears. I could no longer hear Montgomery or his man, and I was nearly exhausted. So I doubled back sharply toward where I thought the beach was and lay down, sheltered by a thicket of cane. I stayed there for a long time, too afraid to move or even plan what to do. The wild scene around me lay silent and still under the sun. The only sound nearby was the faint hum of some small gnats that had found me. After a while, I became aware of a sleepy breathing sound. It was the sea washing against the beach.

After about an hour I heard Montgomery shouting my name, far away to the north. That set me thinking of my plan of action. As I interpreted it then, this island was inhabited only by these two vivisectors and their animalised victims. Some of these no doubt they could press into their service against me if need arose. I knew both Moreau and Montgomery carried revolvers; and, save for a feeble bar of deal spiked with a small nail, the merest mockery of a mace, I was unarmed.

After about an hour, I heard Montgomery shouting my name from far to the north. That made me think about what I should do. As I understood it then, only the two vivisectors and their animal-like victims lived on the island. No doubt they could force some of their victims to help them against me if necessary. I knew that both Moreau and Montgomery carried revolvers. I had only a flimsy piece of pine with a small nail driven into it. It was a pathetic excuse for a mace. Otherwise, I was unarmed.

So I lay still there, until I began to think of food and drink; and at that thought the real hopelessness of my position came home to me. I knew no way of getting anything to eat. I was too ignorant of botany to discover any resort of root or fruit that might lie about me; I had no means of trapping the few rabbits upon the island. It grew blanker the more I turned the prospect over. At last in the desperation of my position, my mind turned to the animal men I had encountered. I tried to find some hope in what I remembered of them. In turn I recalled each one I had seen, and tried to draw some augury of assistance from my memory.

I lay still until I began to think about food and drink. Then I realized how hopeless my situation was. I knew no way to find anything to eat. I knew too little about plants to identify any roots or fruit I could eat. I had no way to trap the few rabbits on the island. The more I thought about my prospects, the bleaker they seemed. At last, in my desperation, I thought of the animal men I had encountered. I tried to find some hope in what I remembered of them. I recalled each one I had seen and searched my memory for some sign that they might help me.

Then suddenly I heard a staghound bay, and at that realised a new danger. I took little time to think, or they would have caught me then, but snatching up my nailed stick, rushed headlong from my hiding-place towards the sound of the sea. I remember a growth of thorny plants, with spines that stabbed like pen-knives. I emerged bleeding and with torn clothes upon the lip of a long creek opening northward. I went straight into the water without a minute’s hesitation, wading up the creek, and presently finding myself kneedeep in a little stream. I scrambled out at last on the westward bank, and with my heart beating loudly in my ears, crept into a tangle of ferns to await the issue. I heard the dog (there was only one) draw nearer, and yelp when it came to the thorns. Then I heard no more, and presently began to think I had escaped.

Then suddenly I heard a staghound baying, and I realized I faced a new danger. I had to act quickly, or they would have caught me then. I grabbed my stick with nails in it and rushed from my hiding place toward the sound of the sea. I remember a patch of thorny plants with spines that stabbed like pocketknives. I came out bleeding, with my clothes torn, at the edge of a long creek that opened to the north. Without a moment’s hesitation, I stepped into the water and waded up the creek. Soon I found myself knee-deep in a small stream. At last I scrambled out onto the western bank. My heart was pounding in my ears as I crept into a tangle of ferns to wait and see what happened. I heard the dog draw nearer. There was only one. It yelped when it reached the thorns. Then I heard nothing more, and soon I began to think I had escaped.

The minutes passed; the silence lengthened out, and at last after an hour of security my courage began to return to me. By this time I was no longer very much terrified or very miserable. I had, as it were, passed the limit of terror and despair. I felt now that my life was practically lost, and that persuasion made me capable of daring anything. I had even a certain wish to encounter Moreau face to face; and as I had waded into the water, I remembered that if I were too hard pressed at least one path of escape from torment still lay open to me,—they could not very well prevent my drowning myself. I had half a mind to drown myself then; but an odd wish to see the whole adventure out, a queer, impersonal, spectacular interest in myself, restrained me. I stretched my limbs, sore and painful from the pricks of the spiny plants, and stared around me at the trees; and, so suddenly that it seemed to jump out of the green tracery about it, my eyes lit upon a black face watching me. I saw that it was the simian creature who had met the launch upon the beach. He was clinging to the oblique stem of a palm-tree. I gripped my stick, and stood up facing him. He began chattering. “You, you, you,” was all I could distinguish at first. Suddenly he dropped from the tree, and in another moment was holding the fronds apart and staring curiously at me.

The minutes passed, and the silence went on. At last, after an hour of safety, my courage began to return. By then I was no longer so terrified or miserable. I had, in a way, passed beyond terror and despair. I now felt that my life was practically lost, and that belief made me ready to dare anything. I even felt a certain desire to face Moreau. And as I waded into the water, I remembered that, if I were too hard pressed, one escape from torment remained. They could hardly prevent me from drowning myself. I was half tempted to do it then. But a strange wish to see the whole adventure through held me back. I had a curious, detached interest in watching what happened to me. I stretched my limbs, which were sore and painful from the prickly plants, and stared at the trees around me. Then my eyes fell on a black face watching me. It appeared so suddenly that it seemed to jump out of the green tangle around it. I saw that it was the ape-like creature who had met the launch on the beach. He was clinging to the sloping trunk of a palm tree. I gripped my stick and stood up to face him. He began chattering. “You, you, you,” was all I could make out at first. Suddenly he dropped from the tree. A moment later, he was holding the fronds apart and staring curiously at me.

I did not feel the same repugnance towards this creature which I had experienced in my encounters with the other Beast Men. “You,” he said, “in the boat.” He was a man, then,—at least as much of a man as Montgomery’s attendant,—for he could talk.

I did not feel the same disgust toward this creature that I had felt toward the other Beast Men. “You,” he said, “in the boat.” So he was a man, at least as much of a man as Montgomery’s attendant, because he could talk.

“Yes,” I said, “I came in the boat. From the ship.”

“Oh!” he said, and his bright, restless eyes travelled over me, to my hands, to the stick I carried, to my feet, to the tattered places in my coat, and the cuts and scratches I had received from the thorns. He seemed puzzled at something. His eyes came back to my hands. He held his own hand out and counted his digits slowly, “One, two, three, four, five—eigh?”

“Oh!” he said. His bright, restless eyes moved over me. He looked at my hands, the stick I carried, and my feet. He looked at the torn places in my coat and the cuts and scratches from the thorns. Something seemed to puzzle him. His eyes returned to my hands. He held out his own hand and slowly counted his fingers. “One, two, three, four, five, eh?”

I did not grasp his meaning then; afterwards I was to find that a great proportion of these Beast People had malformed hands, lacking sometimes even three digits. But guessing this was in some way a greeting, I did the same thing by way of reply. He grinned with immense satisfaction. Then his swift roving glance went round again; he made a swift movement—and vanished. The fern fronds he had stood between came swishing together.

I did not understand what he meant then. Later, I learned that many of these Beast People had malformed hands. Some were missing as many as three fingers. But I guessed this was some kind of greeting, so I did the same thing in reply. He grinned with immense satisfaction. Then his quick, searching gaze swept around again. He made a sudden movement and vanished. The fern fronds he had stood between swished together.

I pushed out of the brake after him, and was astonished to find him swinging cheerfully by one lank arm from a rope of creepers that looped down from the foliage overhead. His back was to me.

I pushed out of the thicket after him. I was astonished to find him swinging cheerfully by one long, thin arm from a vine. It hung in a loop from the leaves overhead. His back was to me.

“Hullo!” said I.

“Hello!” I said.

He came down with a twisting jump, and stood facing me.

He landed with a twisting jump and stood facing me.

“I say,” said I, “where can I get something to eat?”

“Hey,” I said, “where can I get something to eat?”

“Eat!” he said. “Eat Man’s food, now.” And his eye went back to the swing of ropes. “At the huts.”

“Eat!” he said. “Eat Man’s food now.” He looked back at the swinging ropes. “At the huts.”

“But where are the huts?”

“Oh!”

“I’m new, you know.”

At that he swung round, and set off at a quick walk. All his motions were curiously rapid. “Come along,” said he.

At that, he turned around and set off at a brisk walk. All his movements were strangely quick. “Come along,” he said.

I went with him to see the adventure out. I guessed the huts were some rough shelter where he and some more of these Beast People lived. I might perhaps find them friendly, find some handle in their minds to take hold of. I did not know how far they had forgotten their human heritage.

I went with him to see how the adventure would end. I guessed the huts were a rough shelter where he and some other Beast People lived. Perhaps I would find them friendly and find some way to reach their minds. I did not know how much of their human heritage they had forgotten.

My ape-like companion trotted along by my side, with his hands hanging down and his jaw thrust forward. I wondered what memory he might have in him. “How long have you been on this island?” said I.

My ape-like companion trotted beside me, his hands hanging down and his jaw jutting forward. I wondered what he might remember. “How long have you been on this island?” I asked.

“How long?” he asked; and after having the question repeated, he held up three fingers.

“How long?” he asked. After the question was repeated, he held up three fingers.

The creature was little better than an idiot. I tried to make out what he meant by that, and it seems I bored him. After another question or two he suddenly left my side and went leaping at some fruit that hung from a tree. He pulled down a handful of prickly husks and went on eating the contents. I noted this with satisfaction, for here at least was a hint for feeding. I tried him with some other questions, but his chattering, prompt responses were as often as not quite at cross purposes with my question. Some few were appropriate, others quite parrot-like.

The creature was little better than an idiot. I tried to understand what he meant by that, but I seemed to bore him. After another question or two, he suddenly left my side and leaped at some fruit hanging from a tree. He pulled down a handful of prickly husks and began eating what was inside. I watched with satisfaction, for here at least was a clue about what to feed him. I tried asking him more questions, but his quick, chattering answers were just as likely to miss the point. A few were appropriate. Others were merely parroting my words.

I was so intent upon these peculiarities that I scarcely noticed the path we followed. Presently we came to trees, all charred and brown, and so to a bare place covered with a yellow-white incrustation, across which a drifting smoke, pungent in whiffs to nose and eyes, went drifting. On our right, over a shoulder of bare rock, I saw the level blue of the sea. The path coiled down abruptly into a narrow ravine between two tumbled and knotty masses of blackish scoriae. Into this we plunged.

I was so focused on these peculiarities that I barely noticed the path we followed. Soon we came to trees, all charred and brown. Beyond them was a bare patch covered with a yellowish-white crust. Smoke drifted across it, stinging my nose and eyes. To our right, beyond a jutting slope of bare rock, I saw the flat blue sea. The path wound steeply down into a narrow ravine between two jumbled, knotted masses of blackish volcanic rock. We plunged into it.

It was extremely dark, this passage, after the blinding sunlight reflected from the sulphurous ground. Its walls grew steep, and approached each other. Blotches of green and crimson drifted across my eyes. My conductor stopped suddenly. “Home!” said he, and I stood in a floor of a chasm that was at first absolutely dark to me. I heard some strange noises, and thrust the knuckles of my left hand into my eyes. I became aware of a disagreeable odor, like that of a monkey’s cage ill-cleaned. Beyond, the rock opened again upon a gradual slope of sunlit greenery, and on either hand the light smote down through narrow ways into the central gloom.

After the blinding sunlight reflected off the sulfurous ground, the passage was extremely dark. Its walls grew steeper and closer together. Blotches of green and crimson drifted across my eyes. My guide stopped suddenly. “Home!” he said. I stood on the floor of a chasm that seemed completely dark at first. I heard some strange noises and pressed the knuckles of my left hand into my eyes. I noticed an unpleasant smell, like a poorly cleaned monkey cage. Beyond the chasm, the rocks opened onto a gentle slope of sunlit greenery. On either side, light shone through narrow passages into the darkness at the center.