The Greatest Science Fiction Novels & Stories by H. G. Wells. Герберт Уэллс
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cartridges in it, and replaced it. Then he began to pull at his dropping lip.
`I think I should know the brute again. I stunned him. He ought to have a handsome bruise on the forehead of him.’
`But then we have to prove he killed the rabbit,’ said Montgomery. `I wish I’d never brought the things here.’
I should have gone on, but he stayed there thinking over the mangled rabbit in a puzzle-headed way. As it was, I went to such a distance that the rabbit’s remains were hidden.
`Come on!’ I said.
Presently he woke up and came towards me. `You see,’ he said, almost in a whisper, `they are all supposed to have a fixed idea against eating anything that runs on land. If some brute has by accident tasted blood… ‘
We went on some way in silence. `I wonder what can have happened,’ he said to himself. Then, after a pause, again: `I did a foolish thing the other day. That servant of mine… I showed him how to skin and cook a rabbit. It’s odd… I saw him licking his hands… It never occurred to me.
Then: `We must put a stop to this. I must tell Moreau.
He could think of nothing else on our homeward journey.
Moreau took the matter even more seriously than Montgomery, and I need scarcely say I was infected by their evident consternation. `We must make an example,’ said Moreau. `I’ve no doubt in my own mind that the Leopard Man was the sinner. But how can we prove it? I wish, Montgomery, you had kept your taste for meat in hand, and gone without these exciting novelties. We may find ourselves in a mess yet through it.’
`I was a silly ass,’ said Montgomery. `But the thing’s done now. And you said I might have them, you know.
`We must see to the thing at once,’ said Moreau. `I suppose, if anything should turn up, M’ling can take care of himself?’
`I’m not so sure of M’ling,’ said Montgomery. `I think I ought to know him.’
In the afternoon, Moreau, Montgomery, myself, and M’ling went across the island to the huts of the ravine. We three were armed. M’ling carried the little hatchet he used in chopping firewood, and some coils of wire. Moreau had a huge cowherd’s horn slung over his shoulder. `You will see a gathering of the Beast People,’ said Montgomery. `It’s a pretty sight.’ Moreau said not a word on the way, but his heavy white-fringed face was grimly set.
We crossed the ravine, down which smoked the stream of hot water, and followed the winding pathway through the cane brakes until we reached a wide area covered over with a thick powdery yellow substance which I believe was sulphur. Above the shoulder of a weedy bank the sea glittered. We came to a kind of shallow natural amphitheatre, and here the four of us halted. Then Moreau sounded the horn and broke the sleeping stillness of the tropical afternoon. He must have had strong lungs. The hooting note rose and rose amidst its echoes to at last an ear-penetrating intensity. `Ah!’ said Moreau, letting the curved instrument fall to his side again.
Immediately there was a crashing through the yellow canes, and a sound of voices from the dense green jungle that marked the morass through which I had run on the previous day. Then at three or four points on the edge of the sulphurous area appeared the grotesque forms of the Beast People, hurrying towards us. I could not help a creeping horror as I perceived first one and then another trot out from the trees or reeds, and come shambling along over the hot dust. But Moreau and Montgomery stood calmly enough, and, perforce, I stuck beside them. First to arrive was the Satyr, strangely unreal for all that he cast a shadow, and tossed the dust with his hoofs; after him from the brake came a monstrous lout, a thing of horse and rhinoceros, chewing a straw as it came; and then appeared the Swine Woman and two Wolf Women; then the Fox-Bear Witch with her red eyes in her peaked red face, and then others — all hurrying eagerly. As they came forward they began to cringe towards Moreau and chant, quite regardless of one another, fragments of the latter half of the litany of the Law: `His is the Hand that wounds, His is the Hand that heals,’ and so forth.
As soon as they had approached within a distance of perhaps thirty yards they halted, and bowing on knees and elbows, began flinging the white dust upon their heads. Imagine the scene if you can. We three blue-clad men, with our misshapen blackfaced attendant, standing in a wide expanse of sunlit yellow dust under the blazing blue sky, and surrounded by this circle of crouching and gesticulating monstrosities, some almost human save in their subtle expression and gestures, some like cripples, some so strangely distorted as to resemble nothing but the denizens of our wildest dreams. And beyond, the reedy lines of a cane brake in one direction and a dense tangle of palm-trees on the other, separating us from the ravine with the huts, and to the north the hazy horizon of the Pacific Ocean.
`Sixty-two, sixty-three,’ counted Moreau. `There are four more.
`I do not see the Leopard Man,’ said I.
Presently Moreau sounded the great horn again, and at the sound of it all the Beast People writhed and grovelled in the dust. Then, slinking out of the cane brake, stooping near the ground, and trying to join the dust-throwing circle behind Moreau’s back, came the Leopard Man. And I saw that his forehead was bruised. The last of the Beast People to arrive was the little Ape Man. The earlier animals, hot and weary with their grovelling, shot vicious glances at him.
`Cease,’ said Moreau, in his firm loud voice, and the Beast People sat back upon their hams and rested from their worshipping.
`Where is the Sayer of the Law?’ said Moreau, and the hairy grey monster bowed his face in the dust.
`Say the words,’ said Moreau, and forthwith all in the kneeling assembly, swaying from side to side and dashing up the sulphur with their hands, first the right hand and a puff of dust, and then the left, began once more to chant their strange litany.
When they reached `Not to eat Flesh or Fish; that is the Law,’ Moreau held up his lank white hand. `Stop!’ he cried, and there fell absolute silence upon them all.
I think they all knew and dreaded what was coming. I looked round at their strange faces. When I saw their wincing attitudes and the furtive dread in their bright eyes, I wondered that I had ever believed them to be men.
`That Law has been broken,’ said Moreau.
`None escape,’ from the faceless creature with the Silvery Hair. `None escape,’ repeated the kneeling circle of Beast People.
`Who is he?’ cried Moreau, and looked round at their faces, cracking his whip. I fancied the Hyaena-Swine looked dejected, so too did the Leopard Man. Moreau stopped, facing this creature, who cringed towards him with the memory and dread of infinite torment. Who is he?’ repeated Moreau, in a voice of thunder.
`Evil is he who breaks the Law,’ chanted the Sayer of the Law.
Moreau looked into the eyes of the Leopard Man, and seemed to be dragging the very soul out of the creature.
`Who breaks the Law — ‘ said Moreau, taking his eyes off his victim and turning towards us. It seemed to me there was a touch of exultation in his voice.
` — goes back to the House of Pain,’ they all clamoured; `goes back to the House of Pain, O Master!’
`Back to the House of Pain — back to the House of Pain,’ gabbled the Ape Man, as though the idea was sweet to him.
`Do you hear?’ said Moreau, turning back to the criminal, `my friend… Hullo!’
For the Leopard Man, released from Moreau’s eye, had risen straight from his knees, and now, with eyes aflame and his huge feline tusks flashing out from under his curling lips, leapt towards his tormentor. I am convinced that only the madness of unendurable fear could have prompted this attack. The whole circle of threescore monsters seemed to rise about us. I drew my revolver. The two figures collided. I saw Moreau reeling back from the Leopard Man’s blow. There was a furious yelling and howling all about us. Everyone was moving rapidly. For a moment I thought it was a general revolt.
The furious face of the Leopard Man flashed by mine, with M’ling close in pursuit.