The Beast Folk Revert

In this way I became one among the Beast People in the Island of Doctor Moreau. When I awoke, it was dark about me. My arm ached in its bandages. I sat up, wondering at first where I might be. I heard coarse voices talking outside. Then I saw that my barricade had gone, and that the opening of the hut stood clear. My revolver was still in my hand.

That is how I became one of the Beast People on the Island of Doctor Moreau. When I woke, it was dark around me. My arm ached beneath its bandages. I sat up, wondering at first where I was. I heard rough voices talking outside. Then I saw that my barricade was gone and the entrance to the hut was clear. My revolver was still in my hand.

I heard something breathing, saw something crouched together close beside me. I held my breath, trying to see what it was. It began to move slowly, interminably. Then something soft and warm and moist passed across my hand. All my muscles contracted. I snatched my hand away. A cry of alarm began and was stifled in my throat. Then I just realised what had happened sufficiently to stay my fingers on the revolver.

I heard something breathing and saw something huddled close beside me. I held my breath, trying to see what it was. It began to move, slowly and endlessly. Then something soft, warm, and moist passed over my hand. All my muscles tightened. I snatched my hand away. A cry of alarm started, but I choked it back. Then I realized just enough of what had happened to keep my fingers off the revolver.

“Who is that?” I said in a hoarse whisper, the revolver still pointed.

“Who is that?” I whispered hoarsely, still pointing the revolver.

“I—Master.”

“I, Master.”

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?”

“They say there is no Master now. But I know, I know. I carried the bodies into the sea, O Walker in the Sea! the bodies of those you slew. I am your slave, Master.”

“They say there is no Master now. But I know, I know. I carried the bodies into the sea, O Walker in the Sea! The bodies of those you killed. I am your slave, Master.”

“Are you the one I met on the beach?” I asked.

“Are you the one I met on the beach?” I asked.

“The same, Master.”

“The same, Master.”

The Thing was evidently faithful enough, for it might have fallen upon me as I slept. “It is well,” I said, extending my hand for another licking kiss. I began to realise what its presence meant, and the tide of my courage flowed. “Where are the others?” I asked.

The Thing was clearly faithful enough, because it could have attacked me while I slept. “Good,” I said, holding out my hand for another licking kiss. I began to realize what its presence meant, and my courage rose. “Where are the others?” I asked.

“They are mad; they are fools,” said the Dog-man. “Even now they talk together beyond there. They say, ‘The Master is dead. The Other with the Whip is dead. That Other who walked in the Sea is as we are. We have no Master, no Whips, no House of Pain, any more. There is an end. We love the Law, and will keep it; but there is no Pain, no Master, no Whips for ever again.’ So they say. But I know, Master, I know.”

“They are mad. They are fools,” said the Dog-man. “They are talking together over there even now. They say, ‘The Master is dead. The Other with the Whip is dead. That Other who walked in the Sea is like us. We have no Master, no Whips, no House of Pain anymore. It is over. We love the Law, and we will keep it. But there will never be Pain, a Master, or Whips again.’ That is what they say. But I know, Master, I know.”

I felt in the darkness, and patted the Dog-man’s head. “It is well,” I said again.

I felt around in the darkness and patted the Dog-man’s head. “That’s good,” I said again.

“Presently you will slay them all,” said the Dog-man.

“Soon you will kill them all,” said the Dog-man.

“Presently,” I answered, “I will slay them all,—after certain days and certain things have come to pass. Every one of them save those you spare, every one of them shall be slain.”

“Soon,” I answered, “I will kill them all, after certain days have passed and certain things have happened. Every one of them will be killed, except those you spare.”

“What the Master wishes to kill, the Master kills,” said the Dog-man with a certain satisfaction in his voice.

“Whatever the Master wants to kill, the Master kills,” said the Dog-man, with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

“And that their sins may grow,” I said, “let them live in their folly until their time is ripe. Let them not know that I am the Master.”

“So that their sins may grow,” I said, “let them live in their foolishness until their time is right. Do not let them know that I am the Master.”

“The Master’s will is sweet,” said the Dog-man, with the ready tact of his canine blood.

“The Master’s will is sweet,” said the Dog-man, with the natural tact he inherited from his canine blood.

“But one has sinned,” said I. “Him I will kill, whenever I may meet him. When I say to you, ‘That is he,’ see that you fall upon him. And now I will go to the men and women who are assembled together.”

“But one has sinned,” I said. “I will kill him whenever I meet him. When I say to you, ‘That is he,’ make sure you attack him. And now I will go to the men and women who have gathered together.”

For a moment the opening of the hut was blackened by the exit of the Dog-man. Then I followed and stood up, almost in the exact spot where I had been when I had heard Moreau and his staghound pursuing me. But now it was night, and all the miasmatic ravine about me was black; and beyond, instead of a green, sunlit slope, I saw a red fire, before which hunched, grotesque figures moved to and fro. Farther were the thick trees, a bank of darkness, fringed above with the black lace of the upper branches. The moon was just riding up on the edge of the ravine, and like a bar across its face drove the spire of vapour that was for ever streaming from the fumaroles of the island.

For a moment, the Dog-man darkened the hut’s opening as he went out. Then I followed him and stood up. I was almost in the exact spot where I had heard Moreau and his staghound pursuing me. But now it was night, and the entire foul-smelling ravine around me was dark. Beyond it, instead of a green, sunlit slope, I saw a red fire. Hunched, grotesque figures moved back and forth in front of it. Farther away, the thick trees formed a wall of darkness. Their upper branches made a fringe of black lace along the top. The moon was just rising over the edge of the ravine. A column of vapor crossed its face like a bar. The vapor streamed constantly from the island’s fumaroles.

“Walk by me,” said I, nerving myself; and side by side we walked down the narrow way, taking little heed of the dim Things that peered at us out of the huts.

“Walk beside me,” I said, gathering my courage. We walked side by side down the narrow path, paying little attention to the shadowy Things peering at us from the huts.

None about the fire attempted to salute me. Most of them disregarded me, ostentatiously. I looked round for the Hyena-swine, but he was not there. Altogether, perhaps twenty of the Beast Folk squatted, staring into the fire or talking to one another.

No one around the fire tried to greet me. Most of them pointedly ignored me. I looked around for the Hyena-swine, but he was not there. Perhaps twenty Beast Folk were squatting there in all, staring into the fire or talking to one another.

“He is dead, he is dead! the Master is dead!” said the voice of the Ape-man to the right of me. “The House of Pain—there is no House of Pain!”

“He is dead, he is dead! The Master is dead!” said the Ape-man to my right. “The House of Pain. There is no House of Pain!”

“He is not dead,” said I, in a loud voice. “Even now he watches us!”

“He is not dead,” I said loudly. “He is watching us even now!”

This startled them. Twenty pairs of eyes regarded me.

This startled them. Twenty pairs of eyes looked at me.

“The House of Pain is gone,” said I. “It will come again. The Master you cannot see; yet even now he listens among you.”

“The House of Pain is gone,” I said. “It will come again. You cannot see the Master, but even now he listens among you.”

“True, true!” said the Dog-man.

“True, true!” said the Dog-man.

They were staggered at my assurance. An animal may be ferocious and cunning enough, but it takes a real man to tell a lie.

They were stunned by my confidence. An animal may be fierce and clever enough, but it takes a real man to tell a lie.

“The Man with the Bandaged Arm speaks a strange thing,” said one of the Beast Folk.

“The Man with the Bandaged Arm says a strange thing,” said one of the Beast Folk.

“I tell you it is so,” I said. “The Master and the House of Pain will come again. Woe be to him who breaks the Law!”

“I’m telling you it’s true,” I said. “The Master and the House of Pain will return. Anyone who breaks the Law will suffer!”

They looked curiously at one another. With an affectation of indifference I began to chop idly at the ground in front of me with my hatchet. They looked, I noticed, at the deep cuts I made in the turf.

They looked at one another curiously. Pretending not to care, I began chopping idly at the ground in front of me with my hatchet. I noticed them looking at the deep cuts I made in the grass.

Then the Satyr raised a doubt. I answered him. Then one of the dappled things objected, and an animated discussion sprang up round the fire. Every moment I began to feel more convinced of my present security. I talked now without the catching in my breath, due to the intensity of my excitement, that had troubled me at first. In the course of about an hour I had really convinced several of the Beast Folk of the truth of my assertions, and talked most of the others into a dubious state. I kept a sharp eye for my enemy the Hyena-swine, but he never appeared. Every now and then a suspicious movement would startle me, but my confidence grew rapidly. Then as the moon crept down from the zenith, one by one the listeners began to yawn (showing the oddest teeth in the light of the sinking fire), and first one and then another retired towards the dens in the ravine; and I, dreading the silence and darkness, went with them, knowing I was safer with several of them than with one alone.

Then the Satyr raised a doubt, and I answered him. One of the spotted creatures objected, and a lively discussion began around the fire. With every moment, I felt more convinced that I was safe for now. At first, my intense excitement had made me catch my breath as I spoke. Now I could talk without that difficulty. After about an hour, I had convinced several of the Beast Folk that my claims were true. I had also persuaded most of the others to doubt their own beliefs. I kept a sharp eye out for my enemy, the Hyena-swine, but he never appeared. Every now and then a suspicious movement startled me, but my confidence grew quickly. Then, as the moon slowly descended from its highest point, the listeners began to yawn one by one. In the light of the dying fire, their teeth looked very strange. One after another, they went back to the dens in the ravine. I dreaded the silence and darkness, so I went with them. I knew I was safer with several of them than with one alone.

In this manner began the longer part of my sojourn upon this Island of Doctor Moreau. But from that night until the end came, there was but one thing happened to tell save a series of innumerable small unpleasant details and the fretting of an incessant uneasiness. So that I prefer to make no chronicle for that gap of time, to tell only one cardinal incident of the ten months I spent as an intimate of these half-humanised brutes. There is much that sticks in my memory that I could write,—things that I would cheerfully give my right hand to forget; but they do not help the telling of the story.

This was how the longer part of my stay on the Island of Doctor Moreau began. From that night until the end, only one event is worth telling. The rest was a series of countless small unpleasant details and the strain of constant uneasiness. So I prefer not to record that stretch of time. I will tell only one major incident from the ten months I spent living closely with these half-humanised brutes. Much remains in my memory that I could write about. I would gladly give my right hand to forget those things, but they do not help tell the story.

In the retrospect it is strange to remember how soon I fell in with these monsters’ ways, and gained my confidence again. I had my quarrels with them of course, and could show some of their teeth-marks still; but they soon gained a wholesome respect for my trick of throwing stones and for the bite of my hatchet. And my Saint-Bernard-man’s loyalty was of infinite service to me. I found their simple scale of honour was based mainly on the capacity for inflicting trenchant wounds. Indeed, I may say—without vanity, I hope—that I held something like pre-eminence among them. One or two, whom in a rare access of high spirits I had scarred rather badly, bore me a grudge; but it vented itself chiefly behind my back, and at a safe distance from my missiles, in grimaces.

Looking back, it is strange how quickly I adapted to these monsters’ ways and regained my confidence. Of course, I had my quarrels with them, and I can still show some of their teeth marks. But they soon learned to respect my skill at throwing stones and the bite of my hatchet. The loyalty of my Saint-Bernard-man was an enormous help to me. I found that their simple code of honor was based mainly on the ability to inflict deep wounds. Indeed, I might say that I held a leading position among them. I hope that does not sound vain. Once, in a rare burst of high spirits, I had scarred one or two of them rather badly. They held a grudge against me, but mostly showed it by making faces behind my back, safely out of range of anything I might throw.

The Hyena-swine avoided me, and I was always on the alert for him. My inseparable Dog-man hated and dreaded him intensely. I really believe that was at the root of the brute’s attachment to me. It was soon evident to me that the former monster had tasted blood, and gone the way of the Leopard-man. He formed a lair somewhere in the forest, and became solitary. Once I tried to induce the Beast Folk to hunt him, but I lacked the authority to make them co-operate for one end. Again and again I tried to approach his den and come upon him unaware; but always he was too acute for me, and saw or winded me and got away. He too made every forest pathway dangerous to me and my ally with his lurking ambuscades. The Dog-man scarcely dared to leave my side.

The Hyena-swine avoided me, and I was always on the lookout for him. My constant companion, the Dog-man, intensely hated and feared him. I really believe that was why the brute was so attached to me. It soon became clear that the Hyena-swine had tasted blood and followed the same path as the Leopard-man. He made a den somewhere in the forest and lived alone. Once I tried to persuade the Beast Folk to hunt him, but I lacked the authority to make them work together. Again and again I tried to approach his den and catch him by surprise. But he was always too sharp for me. He saw or smelled me and got away. He also made every forest path dangerous for me and my ally by lying in wait to attack us. The Dog-man hardly dared to leave my side.

In the first month or so the Beast Folk, compared with their latter condition, were human enough, and for one or two besides my canine friend I even conceived a friendly tolerance. The little pink sloth-creature displayed an odd affection for me, and took to following me about. The Monkey-man bored me, however; he assumed, on the strength of his five digits, that he was my equal, and was for ever jabbering at me,—jabbering the most arrant nonsense. One thing about him entertained me a little: he had a fantastic trick of coining new words. He had an idea, I believe, that to gabble about names that meant nothing was the proper use of speech. He called it “Big Thinks” to distinguish it from “Little Thinks,” the sane every-day interests of life. If ever I made a remark he did not understand, he would praise it very much, ask me to say it again, learn it by heart, and go off repeating it, with a word wrong here or there, to all the milder of the Beast People. He thought nothing of what was plain and comprehensible. I invented some very curious “Big Thinks” for his especial use. I think now that he was the silliest creature I ever met; he had developed in the most wonderful way the distinctive silliness of man without losing one jot of the natural folly of a monkey.

For the first month or so, the Beast Folk were human enough compared with what they later became. Besides my canine friend, there were one or two others I even tolerated with some fondness. The little pink sloth-creature showed an odd affection for me and began following me around. The Monkey-man bored me, though. Because he had five digits, he assumed he was my equal. He was always jabbering at me, talking utter nonsense. One thing about him entertained me a little: he had a strange habit of making up new words. I believe he thought the proper use of speech was to babble about names that meant nothing. He called this “Big Thinks” to distinguish it from “Little Thinks,” the sensible, everyday concerns of life. Whenever I said something he did not understand, he would praise it highly. He would ask me to say it again and learn it by heart. Then he would go off and repeat it to all the gentler Beast People, getting a word wrong here and there. He thought nothing of what was plain and easy to understand. I invented some very curious “Big Thinks” especially for him. I now think he was the silliest creature I ever met. He had developed the distinctive silliness of humans to a remarkable degree, without losing any of a monkey's natural folly.

This, I say, was in the earlier weeks of my solitude among these brutes. During that time they respected the usage established by the Law, and behaved with general decorum. Once I found another rabbit torn to pieces,—by the Hyena-swine, I am assured,—but that was all. It was about May when I first distinctly perceived a growing difference in their speech and carriage, a growing coarseness of articulation, a growing disinclination to talk. My Monkey-man’s jabber multiplied in volume but grew less and less comprehensible, more and more simian. Some of the others seemed altogether slipping their hold upon speech, though they still understood what I said to them at that time. (Can you imagine language, once clear-cut and exact, softening and guttering, losing shape and import, becoming mere lumps of sound again?) And they walked erect with an increasing difficulty. Though they evidently felt ashamed of themselves, every now and then I would come upon one or another running on toes and finger-tips, and quite unable to recover the vertical attitude. They held things more clumsily; drinking by suction, feeding by gnawing, grew commoner every day. I realised more keenly than ever what Moreau had told me about the “stubborn beast-flesh.” They were reverting, and reverting very rapidly.

This was in the first weeks of my solitude among these brutes. During that time, they respected the customs established by the Law and generally behaved decently. Once I found another rabbit torn to pieces. I am sure the Hyena-swine did it, but that was all. It was around May that I first clearly noticed a growing change in their speech and behavior. Their speech was growing coarser, and they were less inclined to talk. My Monkey-man chattered more and more, but became less and less understandable, more and more like a monkey. Some of the others seemed to be losing their ability to speak altogether. Even so, they still understood what I said to them at that time. (Can you imagine language, once clear and precise, softening and fading, losing its shape and meaning, becoming mere lumps of sound again?) They also found it increasingly difficult to walk upright. They were evidently ashamed of themselves. But every now and then I would find one of them running on toes and fingertips, quite unable to stand upright again. They held things more clumsily. Drinking by suction and feeding by gnawing became more common every day. I understood more keenly than ever what Moreau had told me about the “stubborn beast-flesh.” They were reverting, and reverting very rapidly.

Some of them—the pioneers in this, I noticed with some surprise, were all females—began to disregard the injunction of decency, deliberately for the most part. Others even attempted public outrages upon the institution of monogamy. The tradition of the Law was clearly losing its force. I cannot pursue this disagreeable subject.

Some of them began to disregard the rule of decency, mostly on purpose. I noticed with some surprise that the first to do this were all females. Others even openly violated the institution of monogamy. The tradition of the Law was clearly losing its force. I cannot continue with this unpleasant subject.

My Dog-man imperceptibly slipped back to the dog again; day by day he became dumb, quadrupedal, hairy. I scarcely noticed the transition from the companion on my right hand to the lurching dog at my side.

My Dog-man gradually slipped back into being a dog. Day by day, he lost his speech, walked on all fours, and grew hairy. I barely noticed my companion at my right hand becoming the lurching dog at my side.

As the carelessness and disorganisation increased from day to day, the lane of dwelling places, at no time very sweet, became so loathsome that I left it, and going across the island made myself a hovel of boughs amid the black ruins of Moreau’s enclosure. Some memory of pain, I found, still made that place the safest from the Beast Folk.

The carelessness and disorder grew worse each day. The lane of dwellings had never been very pleasant, but it became so foul that I left. I crossed the island and built myself a shelter of branches among the black ruins of Moreau’s enclosure. I found that some memory of pain still made that place the safest from the Beast Folk.

It would be impossible to detail every step of the lapsing of these monsters,—to tell how, day by day, the human semblance left them; how they gave up bandagings and wrappings, abandoned at last every stitch of clothing; how the hair began to spread over the exposed limbs; how their foreheads fell away and their faces projected; how the quasi-human intimacy I had permitted myself with some of them in the first month of my loneliness became a shuddering horror to recall.

It would be impossible to describe every step of the monsters’ regression. Day by day, they lost their human appearance. They gave up their bandages and wrappings, and finally abandoned every stitch of clothing. Hair began to spread over their exposed limbs. Their foreheads receded and their faces pushed forward. During the first month of my loneliness, I had allowed myself a kind of human closeness with some of them. Now the memory made me shudder with horror.

The change was slow and inevitable. For them and for me it came without any definite shock. I still went among them in safety, because no jolt in the downward glide had released the increasing charge of explosive animalism that ousted the human day by day. But I began to fear that soon now that shock must come. My Saint-Bernard-brute followed me to the enclosure every night, and his vigilance enabled me to sleep at times in something like peace. The little pink sloth-thing became shy and left me, to crawl back to its natural life once more among the tree-branches. We were in just the state of equilibrium that would remain in one of those “Happy Family” cages which animal-tamers exhibit, if the tamer were to leave it for ever.

The change was slow and inevitable. It came without any sudden shock, either for them or for me. I could still move safely among them. No jolt in their downward slide had released the growing charge of explosive animalism that displaced their humanity day by day. But I began to fear that the shock must come soon. My Saint-Bernard-brute followed me to the enclosure every night. His watchfulness sometimes let me sleep in something like peace. The little pink sloth-thing grew shy and left me. It crawled back to its natural life among the tree branches. We were in just the state of balance that would remain in one of those “Happy Family” cages displayed by animal tamers, if the tamer were to leave it forever.

Of course these creatures did not decline into such beasts as the reader has seen in zoological gardens,—into ordinary bears, wolves, tigers, oxen, swine, and apes. There was still something strange about each; in each Moreau had blended this animal with that. One perhaps was ursine chiefly, another feline chiefly, another bovine chiefly; but each was tainted with other creatures,—a kind of generalised animalism appearing through the specific dispositions. And the dwindling shreds of the humanity still startled me every now and then,—a momentary recrudescence of speech perhaps, an unexpected dexterity of the fore-feet, a pitiful attempt to walk erect.

Of course, these creatures did not become the kinds of beasts readers have seen in zoos. They did not become ordinary bears, wolves, tigers, oxen, pigs, or apes. There was still something strange about each one. Moreau had blended different animals in each of them. One might be mostly bear, another mostly feline, another mostly bovine. But each was mixed with other creatures. Beneath their particular animal traits, a kind of general animal nature showed through. And the dwindling traces of humanity still startled me now and then. Perhaps one would briefly speak again, show unexpected skill with its front feet, or make a pitiful attempt to walk upright.

I too must have undergone strange changes. My clothes hung about me as yellow rags, through whose rents showed the tanned skin. My hair grew long, and became matted together. I am told that even now my eyes have a strange brightness, a swift alertness of movement.

I must have changed strangely too. My clothes hung around me in yellow rags, with tanned skin showing through the tears. My hair grew long and matted. I am told that even now my eyes have a strange brightness and move quickly and alertly.

At first I spent the daylight hours on the southward beach watching for a ship, hoping and praying for a ship. I counted on the Ipecacuanha returning as the year wore on; but she never came. Five times I saw sails, and thrice smoke; but nothing ever touched the island. I always had a bonfire ready, but no doubt the volcanic reputation of the island was taken to account for that.

At first, I spent the daylight hours on the southern beach, watching for a ship, hoping and praying for one. I expected the Ipecacuanha to return later in the year, but she never came. Five times I saw sails, and three times I saw smoke, but no ship ever reached the island. I always had a bonfire ready, but people no doubt thought it was caused by the island’s volcanic activity.

It was only about September or October that I began to think of making a raft. By that time my arm had healed, and both my hands were at my service again. At first, I found my helplessness appalling. I had never done any carpentry or such-like work in my life, and I spent day after day in experimental chopping and binding among the trees. I had no ropes, and could hit on nothing wherewith to make ropes; none of the abundant creepers seemed limber or strong enough, and with all my litter of scientific education I could not devise any way of making them so. I spent more than a fortnight grubbing among the black ruins of the enclosure and on the beach where the boats had been burnt, looking for nails and other stray pieces of metal that might prove of service. Now and then some Beast-creature would watch me, and go leaping off when I called to it. There came a season of thunder-storms and heavy rain, which greatly retarded my work; but at last the raft was completed.

It was not until around September or October that I began to think about making a raft. By then, my arm had healed, and I could use both hands again. At first, I was appalled by how helpless I was. I had never done any carpentry or similar work in my life. I spent day after day among the trees, experimenting with chopping and binding. I had no rope and could not think of anything to make it from. None of the many vines seemed flexible or strong enough. Despite all the bits and pieces of my scientific education, I could not find a way to make them suitable. I spent more than two weeks searching the blackened ruins of the enclosure and the beach where the boats had burned. I was looking for nails and other stray pieces of metal that might be useful. Now and then, a Beast-creature would watch me, then leap away when I called to it. A season of thunderstorms and heavy rain came and greatly slowed my work. But at last, the raft was finished.

I was delighted with it. But with a certain lack of practical sense which has always been my bane, I had made it a mile or more from the sea; and before I had dragged it down to the beach the thing had fallen to pieces. Perhaps it is as well that I was saved from launching it; but at the time my misery at my failure was so acute that for some days I simply moped on the beach, and stared at the water and thought of death.

I was delighted with it. But I had built it a mile or more from the sea. I have always suffered from a lack of practical sense. By the time I dragged it down to the beach, it had fallen apart. Perhaps it was just as well that I was spared from launching it. But at the time, I was so miserable about my failure that I simply moped on the beach for days. I stared at the water and thought of death.

I did not, however, mean to die, and an incident occurred that warned me unmistakably of the folly of letting the days pass so,—for each fresh day was fraught with increasing danger from the Beast People.

I did not intend to die, however. An incident made it unmistakably clear how foolish it was to let the days pass this way. Each day brought increasing danger from the Beast People.

I was lying in the shade of the enclosure wall, staring out to sea, when I was startled by something cold touching the skin of my heel, and starting round found the little pink sloth-creature blinking into my face. He had long since lost speech and active movement, and the lank hair of the little brute grew thicker every day and his stumpy claws more askew. He made a moaning noise when he saw he had attracted my attention, went a little way towards the bushes and looked back at me.

I was lying in the shade of the enclosure wall, staring out to sea. Something cold touched the skin of my heel, startling me. I turned around and found the little pink sloth-creature blinking at me. He had long since lost the ability to speak or move actively. The little brute’s thin hair grew thicker every day, and his stubby claws grew more crooked. When he saw he had caught my attention, he made a moaning sound. He went a short way toward the bushes and looked back at me.

At first I did not understand, but presently it occurred to me that he wished me to follow him; and this I did at last,—slowly, for the day was hot. When we reached the trees he clambered into them, for he could travel better among their swinging creepers than on the ground. And suddenly in a trampled space I came upon a ghastly group. My Saint-Bernard-creature lay on the ground, dead; and near his body crouched the Hyena-swine, gripping the quivering flesh with its misshapen claws, gnawing at it, and snarling with delight. As I approached, the monster lifted its glaring eyes to mine, its lips went trembling back from its red-stained teeth, and it growled menacingly. It was not afraid and not ashamed; the last vestige of the human taint had vanished. I advanced a step farther, stopped, and pulled out my revolver. At last I had him face to face.

At first I did not understand. But soon I realized he wanted me to follow him. At last I did, walking slowly because the day was hot. When we reached the trees, he climbed into them. He could move better among their swinging vines than on the ground. Suddenly, in a trampled clearing, I came upon a ghastly sight. My Saint-Bernard-creature lay dead on the ground. Near his body, the Hyena-swine crouched, gripping the quivering flesh with its misshapen claws. It gnawed at the flesh and snarled with delight. As I approached, the monster raised its glaring eyes to mine. Its lips trembled and pulled back from its bloodstained teeth, and it growled threateningly. It was not afraid or ashamed. The last trace of the human taint had vanished. I took another step forward, stopped, and pulled out my revolver. At last I had him face to face.

The brute made no sign of retreat; but its ears went back, its hair bristled, and its body crouched together. I aimed between the eyes and fired. As I did so, the Thing rose straight at me in a leap, and I was knocked over like a ninepin. It clutched at me with its crippled hand, and struck me in the face. Its spring carried it over me. I fell under the hind part of its body; but luckily I had hit as I meant, and it had died even as it leapt. I crawled out from under its unclean weight and stood up trembling, staring at its quivering body. That danger at least was over; but this, I knew was only the first of the series of relapses that must come.

The brute showed no sign of backing away. Instead, its ears flattened, its hair stood on end, and it crouched. I aimed between its eyes and fired. As I fired, the Thing leaped straight at me and knocked me over like a bowling pin. It grabbed at me with its crippled hand and struck me in the face. Its leap carried it over me, and I fell beneath its hindquarters. But luckily, my shot had hit its mark, and the Thing had died as it leaped. I crawled out from under its filthy body and stood up trembling, staring at it as it twitched. That danger, at least, was over. But I knew this was only the first of a series of relapses that had to come.

I burnt both of the bodies on a pyre of brushwood; but after that I saw that unless I left the island my death was only a question of time. The Beast People by that time had, with one or two exceptions, left the ravine and made themselves lairs according to their taste among the thickets of the island. Few prowled by day, most of them slept, and the island might have seemed deserted to a new-comer; but at night the air was hideous with their calls and howling. I had half a mind to make a massacre of them; to build traps, or fight them with my knife. Had I possessed sufficient cartridges, I should not have hesitated to begin the killing. There could now be scarcely a score left of the dangerous carnivores; the braver of these were already dead. After the death of this poor dog of mine, my last friend, I too adopted to some extent the practice of slumbering in the daytime in order to be on my guard at night. I rebuilt my den in the walls of the enclosure, with such a narrow opening that anything attempting to enter must necessarily make a considerable noise. The creatures had lost the art of fire too, and recovered their fear of it. I turned once more, almost passionately now, to hammering together stakes and branches to form a raft for my escape.

I burned both bodies on a pile of brushwood. But afterward I saw that unless I left the island, my death was only a matter of time. By then, all but one or two of the Beast People had left the ravine. They had made dens to suit themselves among the island’s thickets. Few prowled during the day. Most slept, and a newcomer might have thought the island was deserted. But at night, their calls and howling filled the air with a horrible noise. I was tempted to massacre them, either by building traps or fighting them with my knife. If I had possessed enough cartridges, I would not have hesitated to start killing them. By now, barely twenty of the dangerous meat eaters could have been left. The braver ones were already dead. After my poor dog died, my last friend, I too began sleeping somewhat during the day so I could keep watch at night. I rebuilt my den in the walls of the enclosure. Its entrance was so narrow that anything trying to enter would have to make a lot of noise. The creatures had also lost the skill of making fire and had grown afraid of it again. Once more, I turned to hammering stakes and branches together to make a raft for my escape. Now I worked at it almost passionately.

I found a thousand difficulties. I am an extremely unhandy man (my schooling was over before the days of Slöjd); but most of the requirements of a raft I met at last in some clumsy, circuitous way or other, and this time I took care of the strength. The only insurmountable obstacle was that I had no vessel to contain the water I should need if I floated forth upon these untravelled seas. I would have even tried pottery, but the island contained no clay. I used to go moping about the island trying with all my might to solve this one last difficulty. Sometimes I would give way to wild outbursts of rage, and hack and splinter some unlucky tree in my intolerable vexation. But I could think of nothing.

I ran into a thousand difficulties. I am extremely bad with my hands. My schooling ended before the days of Slöjd. But eventually I managed to meet most of the requirements for a raft, in one clumsy, roundabout way or another. This time I made sure it was strong. The only obstacle I could not overcome was that I had no container for water. I would need water if I floated out onto those untraveled seas. I would even have tried making pottery, but there was no clay on the island. I used to wander gloomily around the island, trying with all my might to solve this last problem. Sometimes I gave way to wild bursts of rage, hacking and splintering some unlucky tree in my unbearable frustration. But I could think of nothing.

And then came a day, a wonderful day, which I spent in ecstasy. I saw a sail to the southwest, a small sail like that of a little schooner; and forthwith I lit a great pile of brushwood, and stood by it in the heat of it, and the heat of the midday sun, watching. All day I watched that sail, eating or drinking nothing, so that my head reeled; and the Beasts came and glared at me, and seemed to wonder, and went away. It was still distant when night came and swallowed it up; and all night I toiled to keep my blaze bright and high, and the eyes of the Beasts shone out of the darkness, marvelling. In the dawn the sail was nearer, and I saw it was the dirty lug-sail of a small boat. But it sailed strangely. My eyes were weary with watching, and I peered and could not believe them. Two men were in the boat, sitting low down,—one by the bows, the other at the rudder. The head was not kept to the wind; it yawed and fell away.

Then came a wonderful day that I spent in ecstasy. I saw a sail to the southwest, a small sail like that of a little schooner. I immediately lit a large pile of brushwood and stood beside it, watching in the heat of the fire and the midday sun. I watched that sail all day, eating and drinking nothing, until my head reeled. The Beasts came and glared at me. They seemed puzzled, then went away. The sail was still distant when night came and swallowed it up. All night I worked to keep my fire bright and high. The eyes of the Beasts shone out of the darkness as they watched in wonder. At dawn the sail was closer, and I saw that it was the dirty lug sail of a small boat. But the boat sailed strangely. My eyes were tired from watching, and I peered at it, unable to believe what I saw. Two men sat low in the boat, one near the bow and the other at the rudder. The boat was not kept pointed into the wind. It swung from side to side and drifted away.

As the day grew brighter, I began waving the last rag of my jacket to them; but they did not notice me, and sat still, facing each other. I went to the lowest point of the low headland, and gesticulated and shouted. There was no response, and the boat kept on her aimless course, making slowly, very slowly, for the bay. Suddenly a great white bird flew up out of the boat, and neither of the men stirred nor noticed it; it circled round, and then came sweeping overhead with its strong wings outspread.

As the day grew brighter, I began waving the last rag of my jacket at them. But they did not notice me. They sat still, facing each other. I went to the lowest point of the low headland, waving my arms and shouting. There was no response. The boat continued on its aimless course, moving slowly, very slowly, toward the bay. Suddenly, a large white bird flew up from the boat. Neither man stirred or noticed it. The bird circled around, then swept overhead with its strong wings spread wide.

Then I stopped shouting, and sat down on the headland and rested my chin on my hands and stared. Slowly, slowly, the boat drove past towards the west. I would have swum out to it, but something—a cold, vague fear—kept me back. In the afternoon the tide stranded the boat, and left it a hundred yards or so to the westward of the ruins of the enclosure. The men in it were dead, had been dead so long that they fell to pieces when I tilted the boat on its side and dragged them out. One had a shock of red hair, like the captain of the Ipecacuanha, and a dirty white cap lay in the bottom of the boat.

Then I stopped shouting and sat down on the headland. I rested my chin on my hands and stared. Slowly, slowly, the boat drifted west. I would have swum out to it, but a cold, vague fear held me back. That afternoon, the tide left the boat stranded about a hundred yards west of the enclosure’s ruins. The men in it were dead. They had been dead so long that they fell to pieces when I tipped the boat over and dragged them out. One had a thick mass of red hair, like the captain of the Ipecacuanha. A dirty white cap lay in the bottom of the boat.

As I stood beside the boat, three of the Beasts came slinking out of the bushes and sniffing towards me. One of my spasms of disgust came upon me. I thrust the little boat down the beach and clambered on board her. Two of the brutes were Wolf-beasts, and came forward with quivering nostrils and glittering eyes; the third was the horrible nondescript of bear and bull. When I saw them approaching those wretched remains, heard them snarling at one another and caught the gleam of their teeth, a frantic horror succeeded my repulsion. I turned my back upon them, struck the lug and began paddling out to sea. I could not bring myself to look behind me.

As I stood beside the boat, three of the Beasts slunk out of the bushes and sniffed toward me. Another wave of disgust came over me. I pushed the little boat down the beach and climbed aboard. Two of the brutes were Wolf-beasts. They came forward with twitching nostrils and gleaming eyes. The third was the horrible, shapeless creature that was part bear and part bull. I saw them approaching those wretched remains. They snarled at one another, and I caught the gleam of their teeth. My disgust gave way to frantic horror. I turned my back on them, lowered the sail, and began paddling out to sea. I could not bring myself to look behind me.

I lay, however, between the reef and the island that night, and the next morning went round to the stream and filled the empty keg aboard with water. Then, with such patience as I could command, I collected a quantity of fruit, and waylaid and killed two rabbits with my last three cartridges. While I was doing this I left the boat moored to an inward projection of the reef, for fear of the Beast People.

However, I stayed between the reef and the island that night. The next morning, I went around to the stream and filled the empty keg on the boat with water. Then, with as much patience as I could manage, I gathered some fruit. I also lay in wait for rabbits and killed two with my last three cartridges. While I did this, I left the boat tied to a part of the reef that jutted inward. I did this because I feared the Beast People.