Erewhon (Revised Edition)
by
Samuel Butler
Part 1 out of 5
This etext was prepared by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
from the 1910 A. C. Fifield edition.
EREWHON, OR OVER THE RANGE
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
The Author wishes it to be understood that Erewhon is pronounced as
a word of three syllables, all short--thus, E-re-whon.
PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION
Having been enabled by the kindness of the public to get through an
unusually large edition of "Erewhon" in a very short time, I have
taken the opportunity of a second edition to make some necessary
corrections, and to add a few passages where it struck me that they
would be appropriately introduced; the passages are few, and it is
my fixed intention never to touch the work again.
I may perhaps be allowed to say a word or two here in reference to
"The Coming Race," to the success of which book "Erewhon" has been
very generally set down as due. This is a mistake, though a
perfectly natural one. The fact is that "Erewhon" was finished,
with the exception of the last twenty pages and a sentence or two
inserted from time to time here and there throughout the book,
before the first advertisement of "The Coming Race" appeared. A
friend having called my attention to one of the first of these
advertisements, and suggesting that it probably referred to a work
of similar character to my own, I took "Erewhon" to a well-known
firm of publishers on the 1st of May 1871, and left it in their
hands for consideration. I then went abroad, and on learning that
the publishers alluded to declined the MS., I let it alone for six
or seven months, and, being in an out-of-the-way part of Italy,
never saw a single review of "The Coming Race," nor a copy of the
work. On my return, I purposely avoided looking into it until I
had sent back my last revises to the printer. Then I had much
pleasure in reading it, but was indeed surprised at the many little
points of similarity between the two books, in spite of their
entire independence to one another.
I regret that reviewers have in some cases been inclined to treat
the chapters on Machines as an attempt to reduce Mr. Darwin's
theory to an absurdity. Nothing could be further from my
intention, and few things would be more distasteful to me than any
attempt to laugh at Mr. Darwin; but I must own that I have myself
to thank for the misconception, for I felt sure that my intention
would be missed, but preferred not to weaken the chapters by
explanation, and knew very well that Mr. Darwin's theory would take
no harm. The only question in my mind was how far I could afford
to be misrepresented as laughing at that for which I have the most
profound admiration. I am surprised, however, that the book at
which such an example of the specious misuse of analogy would seem
most naturally levelled should have occurred to no reviewer;
neither shall I mention the name of the book here, though I should
fancy that the hint given will suffice.
I have been held by some whose opinions I respect to have denied
men's responsibility for their actions. He who does this is an
enemy who deserves no quarter. I should have imagined that I had
been sufficiently explicit, but have made a few additions to the
chapter on Malcontents, which will, I think, serve to render
further mistake impossible.
An anonymous correspondent (by the hand-writing presumably a
clergyman) tells me that in quoting from the Latin grammar I should
at any rate have done so correctly, and that I should have written
"agricolas" instead of "agricolae". He added something about any
boy in the fourth form, &c., &c., which I shall not quote, but
which made me very uncomfortable. It may be said that I must have
misquoted from design, from ignorance, or by a slip of the pen; but
surely in these days it will be recognised as harsh to assign
limits to the all-embracing boundlessness of truth, and it will be
more reasonably assumed that EACH of the three possible causes of
misquotation must have had its share in the apparent blunder. The
art of writing things that shall sound right and yet be wrong has
made so many reputations, and affords comfort to such a large
number of readers, that I could not venture to neglect it; the
Latin grammar, however, is a subject on which some of the younger
members of the community feel strongly, so I have now written
"agricolas". I have also parted with the word "infortuniam"
(though not without regret), but have not dared to meddle with
other similar inaccuracies.
For the inconsistencies in the book, and I am aware that there are
not a few, I must ask the indulgence of the reader. The blame,
however, lies chiefly with the Erewhonians themselves, for they
were really a very difficult people to understand. The most
glaring anomalies seemed to afford them no intellectual
inconvenience; neither, provided they did not actually see the
money dropping out of their pockets, nor suffer immediate physical
pain, would they listen to any arguments as to the waste of money
and happiness which their folly caused them. But this had an
effect of which I have little reason to complain, for I was allowed
almost to call them life-long self-deceivers to their faces, and
they said it was quite true, but that it did not matter.
I must not conclude without expressing my most sincere thanks to my
critics and to the public for the leniency and consideration with
which they have treated my adventures.
June 9, 1872
PREFACE TO THE REVISED EDITION
My publisher wishes me to say a few words about the genesis of the
work, a revised and enlarged edition of which he is herewith laying
before the public. I therefore place on record as much as I can
remember on this head after a lapse of more than thirty years.
The first part of "Erewhon" written was an article headed "Darwin
among the Machines," and signed Cellarius. It was written in the
Upper Rangitata district of the Canterbury Province (as it then
was) of New Zealand, and appeared at Christchurch in the Press
Newspaper, June 13, 1863. A copy of this article is indexed under
my books in the British Museum catalogue. In passing, I may say
that the opening chapters of "Erewhon" were also drawn from the
Upper Rangitata district, with such modifications as I found
convenient.
A second article on the same subject as the one just referred to
appeared in the Press shortly after the first, but I have no copy.
It treated Machines from a different point of view, and was the
basis of pp. 270-274 of the present edition of "Erewhon." {1} This
view ultimately led me to the theory I put forward in "Life and
Habit," published in November 1877. I have put a bare outline of
this theory (which I believe to be quite sound) into the mouth of
an Erewhonian philosopher in Chapter XXVII. of this book.
In 1865 I rewrote and enlarged "Darwin among the Machines" for the
Reasoner, a paper published in London by Mr. G. J. Holyoake. It
appeared July 1, 1865, under the heading, "The Mechanical
Creation," and can be seen in the British Museum. I again rewrote
and enlarged it, till it assumed the form in which it appeared in
the first edition of "Erewhon."
The next part of "Erewhon" that I wrote was the "World of the
Unborn," a preliminary form of which was sent to Mr. Holyoake's
paper, but as I cannot find it among those copies of the Reasoner
that are in the British Museum, I conclude that it was not
accepted. I have, however, rather a strong fancy that it appeared
in some London paper of the same character as the Reasoner, not
very long after July 1, 1865, but I have no copy.
I also wrote about this time the substance of what ultimately
became the Musical Banks, and the trial of a man for being in a
consumption. These four detached papers were, I believe, all that
was written of "Erewhon" before 1870. Between 1865 and 1870 I
wrote hardly anything, being hopeful of attaining that success as a
painter which it has not been vouchsafed me to attain, but in the
autumn of 1870, just as I was beginning to get occasionally hung at
Royal Academy exhibitions, my friend, the late Sir F. N. (then Mr.)
Broome, suggested to me that I should add somewhat to the articles
I had already written, and string them together into a book. I was
rather fired by the idea, but as I only worked at the MS. on
Sundays it was some months before I had completed it.
I see from my second Preface that I took the book to Messrs.
Chapman & Hall May 1, 1871, and on their rejection of it, under the
advice of one who has attained the highest rank among living
writers, I let it sleep, till I took it to Mr. Trubner early in
1872. As regards its rejection by Messrs. Chapman & Hall, I
believe their reader advised them quite wisely. They told me he
reported that it was a philosophical work, little likely to be
popular with a large circle of readers. I hope that if I had been
their reader, and the book had been submitted to myself, I should
have advised them to the same effect.
"Erewhon" appeared with the last day or two of March 1872. I
attribute its unlooked-for success mainly to two early favourable
reviews--the first in the Pall Mall Gazette of April 12, and the
second in the Spectator of April 20. There was also another cause.
I was complaining once to a friend that though "Erewhon" had met
with such a warm reception, my subsequent books had been all of
them practically still-born. He said, "You forget one charm that
'Erewhon' had, but which none of your other books can have." I
asked what? and was answered, "The sound of a new voice, and of an
unknown voice."
The first edition of "Erewhon" sold in about three weeks; I had not
taken moulds, and as the demand was strong, it was set up again
immediately. I made a few unimportant alterations and additions,
and added a Preface, of which I cannot say that I am particularly
proud, but an inexperienced writer with a head somewhat turned by
unexpected success is not to be trusted with a preface. I made a
few further very trifling alterations before moulds were taken, but
since the summer of 1872, as new editions were from time to time
wanted, they have been printed from stereos then made.
Having now, I fear, at too great length done what I was asked to
do, I should like to add a few words on my own account. I am still
fairly well satisfied with those parts of "Erewhon" that were
repeatedly rewritten, but from those that had only a single writing
I would gladly cut out some forty or fifty pages if I could.
This, however, may not be, for the copyright will probably expire
in a little over twelve years. It was necessary, therefore, to
revise the book throughout for literary inelegancies--of which I
found many more than I had expected--and also to make such
substantial additions as should secure a new lease of life--at any
rate for the copyright. If, then, instead of cutting out, say
fifty pages, I have been compelled to add about sixty invita
Minerva--the blame rests neither with my publisher nor with me, but
with the copyright laws. Nevertheless I can assure the reader
that, though I have found it an irksome task to take up work which
I thought I had got rid of thirty years ago, and much of which I am
ashamed of, I have done my best to make the new matter savour so
much of the better portions of the old, that none but the best
critics shall perceive at what places the gaps of between thirty
and forty years occur.
Lastly, if my readers note a considerable difference between the
literary technique of "Erewhon" and that of "Erewhon Revisited," I
would remind them that, as I have just shown, "Erewhon" look
something like ten years in writing, and even so was written with
great difficulty, while "Erewhon Revisited" was written easily
between November 1900 and the end of April 1901. There is no
central idea underlying "Erewhon," whereas the attempt to realise
the effect of a single supposed great miracle dominates the whole
of its successor. In "Erewhon" there was hardly any story, and
little attempt to give life and individuality to the characters; I
hope that in "Erewhon Revisited" both these defects have been in
great measure avoided. "Erewhon" was not an organic whole,
"Erewhon Revisited" may fairly claim to be one. Nevertheless,
though in literary workmanship I do not doubt that this last-named
book is an improvement on the first, I shall be agreeably surprised
if I am not told that "Erewhon," with all its faults, is the better
reading of the two.
SAMUEL BUTLER.
August 7, 1901
CHAPTER I: WASTE LANDS
If the reader will excuse me, I will say nothing of my antecedents,
nor of the circumstances which led me to leave my native country;
the narrative would be tedious to him and painful to myself.
Suffice it, that when I left home it was with the intention of
going to some new colony, and either finding, or even perhaps
purchasing, waste crown land suitable for cattle or sheep farming,
by which means I thought that I could better my fortunes more
rapidly than in England.
It will be seen that I did not succeed in my design, and that
however much I may have met with that was new and strange, I have
been unable to reap any pecuniary advantage.
It is true, I imagine myself to have made a discovery which, if I
can be the first to profit by it, will bring me a recompense beyond
all money computation, and secure me a position such as has not
been attained by more than some fifteen or sixteen persons, since
the creation of the universe. But to this end I must possess
myself of a considerable sum of money: neither do I know how to
get it, except by interesting the public in my story, and inducing
the charitable to come forward and assist me. With this hope I now
publish my adventures; but I do so with great reluctance, for I
fear that my story will be doubted unless I tell the whole of it;
and yet I dare not do so, lest others with more means than mine
should get the start of me. I prefer the risk of being doubted to
that of being anticipated, and have therefore concealed my
destination on leaving England, as also the point from which I
began my more serious and difficult journey.
My chief consolation lies in the fact that truth bears its own
impress, and that my story will carry conviction by reason of the
internal evidences for its accuracy. No one who is himself honest
will doubt my being so.
I reached my destination in one of the last months of 1868, but I
dare not mention the season, lest the reader should gather in which
hemisphere I was. The colony was one which had not been opened up
even to the most adventurous settlers for more than eight or nine
years, having been previously uninhabited, save by a few tribes of
savages who frequented the seaboard. The part known to Europeans
consisted of a coast-line about eight hundred miles in length
(affording three or four good harbours), and a tract of country
extending inland for a space varying from two to three hundred
miles, until it a reached the offshoots of an exceedingly lofty
range of mountains, which could be seen from far out upon the
plains, and were covered with perpetual snow. The coast was
perfectly well known both north and south of the tract to which I
have alluded, but in neither direction was there a single harbour
for five hundred miles, and the mountains, which descended almost
into the sea, were covered with thick timber, so that none would
think of settling.
With this bay of land, however, the case was different. The
harbours were sufficient; the country was timbered, but not too
heavily; it was admirably suited for agriculture; it also contained
millions on millions of acres of the most beautifully grassed
country in the world, and of the best suited for all manner of
sheep and cattle. The climate was temperate, and very healthy;
there were no wild animals, nor were the natives dangerous, being
few in number and of an intelligent tractable disposition.
It may be readily understood that when once Europeans set foot upon
this territory they were not slow to take advantage of its
capabilities. Sheep and cattle were introduced, and bred with
extreme rapidity; men took up their 50,000 or 100,000 acres of
country, going inland one behind the other, till in a few years
there was not an acre between the sea and the front ranges which
was not taken up, and stations either for sheep or cattle were
spotted about at intervals of some twenty or thirty miles over the
whole country. The front ranges stopped the tide of squatters for
some little time; it was thought that there was too much snow upon
them for too many months in the year,--that the sheep would get
lost, the ground being too difficult for shepherding,--that the
expense of getting wool down to the ship's side would eat up the
farmer's profits,--and that the grass was too rough and sour for
sheep to thrive upon; but one after another determined to try the
experiment, and it was wonderful how successfully it turned out.
Men pushed farther and farther into the mountains, and found a very
considerable tract inside the front range, between it and another
which was loftier still, though even this was not the highest, the
great snowy one which could be seen from out upon the plains. This
second range, however, seemed to mark the extreme limits of
pastoral country; and it was here, at a small and newly founded
station, that I was received as a cadet, and soon regularly
employed. I was then just twenty-two years old.
I was delighted with the country and the manner of life. It was my
daily business to go up to the top of a certain high mountain, and
down one of its spurs on to the flat, in order to make sure that no
sheep had crossed their boundaries. I was to see the sheep, not
necessarily close at hand, nor to get them in a single mob, but to
see enough of them here and there to feel easy that nothing had
gone wrong; this was no difficult matter, for there were not above
eight hundred of them; and, being all breeding ewes, they were
pretty quiet.
There were a good many sheep which I knew, as two or three black
ewes, and a black lamb or two, and several others which had some
distinguishing mark whereby I could tell them. I would try and see
all these, and if they were all there, and the mob looked large
enough, I might rest assured that all was well. It is surprising
how soon the eye becomes accustomed to missing twenty sheep out of
two or three hundred. I had a telescope and a dog, and would take
bread and meat and tobacco with me. Starting with early dawn, it
would be night before I could complete my round; for the mountain
over which I had to go was very high. In winter it was covered
with snow, and the sheep needed no watching from above. If I were
to see sheep dung or tracks going down on to the other side of the
mountain (where there was a valley with a stream--a mere cul de
sac), I was to follow them, and look out for sheep; but I never saw
any, the sheep always descending on to their own side, partly from
habit, and partly because there was abundance of good sweet feed,
which had been burnt in the early spring, just before I came, and
was now deliciously green and rich, while that on the other side
had never been burnt, and was rank and coarse.
It was a monotonous life, but it was very healthy and one does not
much mind anything when one is well. The country was the grandest
that can be imagined. How often have I sat on the mountain side
and watched the waving downs, with the two white specks of huts in
the distance, and the little square of garden behind them; the
paddock with a patch of bright green oats above the huts, and the
yards and wool-sheds down on the flat below; all seen as through
the wrong end of a telescope, so clear and brilliant was the air,
or as upon a colossal model or map spread out beneath me. Beyond
the downs was a plain, going down to a river of great size, on the
farther side of which there were other high mountains, with the
winter's snow still not quite melted; up the river, which ran
winding in many streams over a bed some two miles broad, I looked
upon the second great chain, and could see a narrow gorge where the
river retired and was lost. I knew that there was a range still
farther back; but except from one place near the very top of my own
mountain, no part of it was visible: from this point, however, I
saw, whenever there were no clouds, a single snow-clad peak, many
miles away, and I should think about as high as any mountain in the
world. Never shall I forget the utter loneliness of the prospect--
only the little far-away homestead giving sign of human handiwork;-
-the vastness of mountain and plain, of river and sky; the
marvellous atmospheric effects--sometimes black mountains against a
white sky, and then again, after cold weather, white mountains
against a black sky--sometimes seen through breaks and swirls of
cloud--and sometimes, which was best of all, I went up my mountain
in a fog, and then got above the mist; going higher and higher, I
would look down upon a sea of whiteness, through which would be
thrust innumerable mountain tops that looked like islands.
I am there now, as I write; I fancy that I can see the downs, the
huts, the plain, and the river-bed--that torrent pathway of
desolation, with its distant roar of waters. Oh, wonderful!
wonderful! so lonely and so solemn, with the sad grey clouds above,
and no sound save a lost lamb bleating upon the mountain side, as
though its little heart were breaking. Then there comes some lean
and withered old ewe, with deep gruff voice and unlovely aspect,
trotting back from the seductive pasture; now she examines this
gully, and now that, and now she stands listening with uplifted
head, that she may hear the distant wailing and obey it. Aha! they
see, and rush towards each other. Alas! they are both mistaken;
the ewe is not the lamb's ewe, they are neither kin nor kind to one
another, and part in coldness. Each must cry louder, and wander
farther yet; may luck be with them both that they may find their
own at nightfall. But this is mere dreaming, and I must proceed.
I could not help speculating upon what might lie farther up the
river and behind the second range. I had no money, but if I could
only find workable country, I might stock it with borrowed capital,
and consider myself a made man. True, the range looked so vast,
that there seemed little chance of getting a sufficient road
through it or over it; but no one had yet explored it, and it is
wonderful how one finds that one can make a path into all sorts of
places (and even get a road for pack-horses), which from a distance
appear inaccessible; the river was so great that it must drain an
inner tract--at least I thought so; and though every one said it
would be madness to attempt taking sheep farther inland, I knew
that only three years ago the same cry had been raised against the
country which my master's flock was now overrunning. I could not
keep these thoughts out of my head as I would rest myself upon the
mountain side; they haunted me as I went my daily rounds, and grew
upon me from hour to hour, till I resolved that after shearing I
would remain in doubt no longer, but saddle my horse, take as much
provision with me as I could, and go and see for myself.
But over and above these thoughts came that of the great range
itself. What was beyond it? Ah! who could say? There was no one
in the whole world who had the smallest idea, save those who were
themselves on the other side of it--if, indeed, there was any one
at all. Could I hope to cross it? This would be the highest
triumph that I could wish for; but it was too much to think of yet.
I would try the nearer range, and see how far I could go. Even if
I did not find country, might I not find gold, or diamonds, or
copper, or silver? I would sometimes lie flat down to drink out of
a stream, and could see little yellow specks among the sand; were
these gold? People said no; but then people always said there was
no gold until it was found to be abundant: there was plenty of
slate and granite, which I had always understood to accompany gold;
and even though it was not found in paying quantities here, it
might be abundant in the main ranges. These thoughts filled my
head, and I could not banish them.
CHAPTER II: IN THE WOOL-SHED
At last shearing came; and with the shearers there was an old
native, whom they had nicknamed Chowbok--though, I believe, his
real name was Kahabuka. He was a sort of chief of the natives,
could speak a little English, and was a great favourite with the
missionaries. He did not do any regular work with the shearers,
but pretended to help in the yards, his real aim being to get the
grog, which is always more freely circulated at shearing-time: he
did not get much, for he was apt to be dangerous when drunk; and
very little would make him so: still he did get it occasionally,
and if one wanted to get anything out of him, it was the best bribe
to offer him. I resolved to question him, and get as much
information from him as I could. I did so. As long as I kept to
questions about the nearer ranges, he was easy to get on with--he
had never been there, but there were traditions among his tribe to
the effect that there was no sheep-country, nothing, in fact, but
stunted timber and a few river-bed flats. It was very difficult to
reach; still there were passes: one of them up our own river,
though not directly along the river-bed, the gorge of which was not
practicable; he had never seen any one who had been there: was
there to not enough on this side? But when I came to the main
range, his manner changed at once. He became uneasy, and began to
prevaricate and shuffle. In a very few minutes I could see that of
this too there existed traditions in his tribe; but no efforts or
coaxing could get a word from him about them. At last I hinted
about grog, and presently he feigned consent: I gave it him; but
as soon as he had drunk it he began shamming intoxication, and then
went to sleep, or pretended to do so, letting me kick him pretty
hard and never budging.
I was angry, for I had to go without my own grog and had got
nothing out of him; so the next day I determined that he should
tell me before I gave him any, or get none at all.
Accordingly, when night came and the shearers had knocked off work
and had their supper, I got my share of rum in a tin pannikin and
made a sign to Chowbok to follow me to the wool-shed, which he
willingly did, slipping out after me, and no one taking any notice
of either of us. When we got down to the wool-shed we lit a tallow
candle, and having stuck it in an old bottle we sat down upon the
wool bales and began to smoke. A wool-shed is a roomy place, built
somewhat on the same plan as a cathedral, with aisles on either
side full of pens for the sheep, a great nave, at the upper end of
which the shearers work, and a further space for wool sorters and
packers. It always refreshed me with a semblance of antiquity
(precious in a new country), though I very well knew that the
oldest wool-shed in the settlement was not more than seven years
old, while this was only two. Chowbok pretended to expect his grog
at once, though we both of us knew very well what the other was
after, and that we were each playing against the other, the one for
grog the other for information.
We had a hard fight: for more than two hours he had tried to put
me off with lies but had carried no conviction; during the whole
time we had been morally wrestling with one another and had neither
of us apparently gained the least advantage; at length, however, I
had become sure that he would give in ultimately, and that with a
little further patience I should get his story out of him. As upon
a cold day in winter, when one has churned (as I had often had to
do), and churned in vain, and the butter makes no sign of coming,
at last one tells by the sound that the cream has gone to sleep,
and then upon a sudden the butter comes, so I had churned at
Chowbok until I perceived that he had arrived, as it were, at the
sleepy stage, and that with a continuance of steady quiet pressure
the day was mine. On a sudden, without a word of warning, he
rolled two bales of wool (his strength was very great) into the
middle of the floor, and on the top of these he placed another
crosswise; he snatched up an empty wool-pack, threw it like a
mantle over his shoulders, jumped upon the uppermost bale, and sat
upon it. In a moment his whole form was changed. His high
shoulders dropped; he set his feet close together, heel to heel and
toe to toe; he laid his arms and hands close alongside of his body,
the palms following his thighs; he held his head high but quite
straight, and his eyes stared right in front of him; but he frowned
horribly, and assumed an expression of face that was positively
fiendish. At the best of times Chowbok was very ugly, but he now
exceeded all conceivable limits of the hideous. His mouth extended
almost from ear to ear, grinning horribly and showing all his
teeth; his eyes glared, though they remained quite fixed, and his
forehead was contracted with a most malevolent scowl.
I am afraid my description will have conveyed only the ridiculous
side of his appearance; but the ridiculous and the sublime are
near, and the grotesque fiendishness of Chowbok's face approached
this last, if it did not reach it. I tried to be amused, but I
felt a sort of creeping at the roots of my hair and over my whole
body, as I looked and wondered what he could possibly be intending
to signify. He continued thus for about a minute, sitting bolt
upright, as stiff as a stone, and making this fearful face. Then
there came from his lips a low moaning like the wind, rising and
falling by infinitely small gradations till it became almost a
shriek, from which it descended and died away; after that, he
jumped down from the bale and held up the extended fingers of both
his hands, as one who should say "Ten," though I did not then
understand him.
For myself I was open-mouthed with astonishment. Chowbok rolled
the bales rapidly into their place, and stood before me shuddering
as in great fear; horror was written upon his face--this time quite
involuntarily--as though the natural panic of one who had committed
an awful crime against unknown and superhuman agencies. He nodded
his head and gibbered, and pointed repeatedly to the mountains. He
would not touch the grog, but, after a few seconds he made a run
through the wool-shed door into the moonlight; nor did he reappear
till next day at dinner-time, when he turned up, looking very
sheepish and abject in his civility towards myself.
Of his meaning I had no conception. How could I? All I could feel
sure of was, that he had a meaning which was true and awful to
himself. It was enough for me that I believed him to have given me
the best he had and all he had. This kindled my imagination more
than if he had told me intelligible stories by the hour together.
I knew not what the great snowy ranges might conceal, but I could
no longer doubt that it would be something well worth discovering.
I kept aloof from Chowbok for the next few days, and showed no
desire to question him further; when I spoke to him I called him
Kahabuka, which gratified him greatly: he seemed to have become
afraid of me, and acted as one who was in my power. Having
therefore made up my mind that I would begin exploring as soon as
shearing was over, I thought it would be a good thing to take
Chowbok with me; so I told him that I meant going to the nearer
ranges for a few days' prospecting, and that he was to come too. I
made him promises of nightly grog, and held out the chances of
finding gold. I said nothing about the main range, for I knew it
would frighten him. I would get him as far up our own river as I
could, and trace it if possible to its source. I would then either
go on by myself, if I felt my courage equal to the attempt, or
return with Chowbok. So, as soon as ever shearing was over and the
wool sent off, I asked leave of absence, and obtained it. Also, I
bought an old pack-horse and pack-saddle, so that I might take
plenty of provisions, and blankets, and a small tent. I was to
ride and find fords over the river; Chowbok was to follow and lead
the pack-horse, which would also carry him over the fords. My
master let me have tea and sugar, ship's biscuits, tobacco, and
salt mutton, with two or three bottles of good brandy; for, as the
wool was now sent down, abundance of provisions would come up with
the empty drays.
Everything being now ready, all the hands on the station turned out
to see us off, and we started on our journey, not very long after
the summer solstice of 1870.
CHAPTER III: UP THE RIVER
The first day we had an easy time, following up the great flats by
the river side, which had already been twice burned, so that there
was no dense undergrowth to check us, though the ground was often
rough, and we had to go a good deal upon the riverbed. Towards
nightfall we had made a matter of some five-and-twenty miles, and
camped at the point where the river entered upon the gorge.
The weather was delightfully warm, considering that the valley in
which we were encamped must have been at least two thousand feet
above the level of the sea. The river-bed was here about a mile
and a half broad and entirely covered with shingle over which the
river ran in many winding channels, looking, when seen from above,
like a tangled skein of ribbon, and glistening in the sun. We knew
that it was liable to very sudden and heavy freshets; but even had
we not known it, we could have seen it by the snags of trees, which
must have been carried long distances, and by the mass of vegetable
and mineral debris which was banked against their lower side,
showing that at times the whole river-bed must be covered with a
roaring torrent many feet in depth and of ungovernable fury. At
present the river was low, there being but five or six streams, too
deep and rapid for even a strong man to ford on foot, but to be
crossed safely on horseback. On either side of it there were still
a few acres of flat, which grew wider and wider down the river,
till they became the large plains on which we looked from my
master's hut. Behind us rose the lowest spurs of the second range,
leading abruptly to the range itself; and at a distance of half a
mile began the gorge, where the river narrowed and became
boisterous and terrible. The beauty of the scene cannot be
conveyed in language. The one side of the valley was blue with
evening shadow, through which loomed forest and precipice, hillside
and mountain top; and the other was still brilliant with the sunset
gold. The wide and wasteful river with its ceaseless rushing--the
beautiful water-birds too, which abounded upon the islets and were
so tame that we could come close up to them--the ineffable purity
of the air--the solemn peacefulness of the untrodden region--could
there be a more delightful and exhilarating combination?
We set about making our camp, close to some large bush which came
down from the mountains on to the flat, and tethered out our horses
upon ground as free as we could find it from anything round which
they might wind the rope and get themselves tied up. We dared not
let them run loose, lest they might stray down the river home
again. We then gathered wood and lit the fire. We filled a tin
pannikin with water and set it against the hot ashes to boil. When
the water boiled we threw in two or three large pinches of tea and
let them brew.
We had caught half a dozen young ducks in the course of the day--an
easy matter, for the old birds made such a fuss in attempting to
decoy us away from them--pretending to be badly hurt as they say
the plover does--that we could always find them by going about in
the opposite direction to the old bird till we heard the young ones
crying: then we ran them down, for they could not fly though they
were nearly full grown. Chowbok plucked them a little and singed
them a good deal. Then we cut them up and boiled them in another
pannikin, and this completed our preparations.
When we had done supper it was quite dark. The silence and
freshness of the night, the occasional sharp cry of the wood-hen,
the ruddy glow of the fire, the subdued rushing of the river, the
sombre forest, and the immediate foreground of our saddles packs
and blankets, made a picture worthy of a Salvator Rosa or a Nicolas
Poussin. I call it to mind and delight in it now, but I did not
notice it at the time. We next to never know when we are well off:
but this cuts two ways,--for if we did, we should perhaps know
better when we are ill off also; and I have sometimes thought that
there are as many ignorant of the one as of the other. He who
wrote, "O fortunatos nimium sua si bona norint agricolas," might
have written quite as truly, "O infortunatos nimium sua si mala
norint"; and there are few of us who are not protected from the
keenest pain by our inability to see what it is that we have done,
what we are suffering, and what we truly are. Let us be grateful
to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only.
We found as soft a piece of ground as we could--though it was all
stony--and having collected grass and so disposed of ourselves that
we had a little hollow for our hip-bones, we strapped our blankets
around us and went to sleep. Waking in the night I saw the stars
overhead and the moonlight bright upon the mountains. The river
was ever rushing; I heard one of our horses neigh to its companion,
and was assured that they were still at hand; I had no care of mind
or body, save that I had doubtless many difficulties to overcome;
there came upon me a delicious sense of peace, a fulness of
contentment which I do not believe can be felt by any but those who
have spent days consecutively on horseback, or at any rate in the
open air.
Next morning we found our last night's tea-leaves frozen at the
bottom of the pannikins, though it was not nearly the beginning of
autumn; we breakfasted as we had supped, and were on our way by six
o'clock. In half an hour we had entered the gorge, and turning
round a corner we bade farewell to the last sight of my master's
country.
The gorge was narrow and precipitous; the river was now only a few
yards wide, and roared and thundered against rocks of many tons in
weight; the sound was deafening, for there was a great volume of
water. We were two hours in making less than a mile, and that with
danger, sometimes in the river and sometimes on the rock. There
was that damp black smell of rocks covered with slimy vegetation,
as near some huge waterfall where spray is ever rising. The air
was clammy and cold. I cannot conceive how our horses managed to
keep their footing, especially the one with the pack, and I dreaded
the having to return almost as much as going forward. I suppose
this lasted three miles, but it was well midday when the gorge got
a little wider, and a small stream came into it from a tributary
valley. Farther progress up the main river was impossible, for the
cliffs descended like walls; so we went up the side stream, Chowbok
seeming to think that here must be the pass of which reports
existed among his people. We now incurred less of actual danger
but more fatigue, and it was only after infinite trouble, owing to
the rocks and tangled vegetation, that we got ourselves and our
horses upon the saddle from which this small stream descended; by
that time clouds had descended upon us, and it was raining heavily.
Moreover, it was six o'clock and we were tired out, having made
perhaps six miles in twelve hours.
On the saddle there was some coarse grass which was in full seed,
and therefore very nourishing for the horses; also abundance of
anise and sow-thistle, of which they are extravagantly fond, so we
turned them loose and prepared to camp. Everything was soaking wet
and we were half-perished with cold; indeed we were very
uncomfortable. There was brushwood about, but we could get no fire
till we had shaved off the wet outside of some dead branches and
filled our pockets with the dry inside chips. Having done this we
managed to start a fire, nor did we allow it to go out when we had
once started it; we pitched the tent and by nine o'clock were
comparatively warm and dry. Next morning it was fine; we broke
camp, and after advancing a short distance we found that, by
descending over ground less difficult than yesterday's, we should
come again upon the river-bed, which had opened out above the
gorge; but it was plain at a glance that there was no available
sheep country, nothing but a few flats covered with scrub on either
side the river, and mountains which were perfectly worthless. But
we could see the main range. There was no mistake about this. The
glaciers were tumbling down the mountain sides like cataracts, and
seemed actually to descend upon the river-bed; there could be no
serious difficulty in reaching them by following up the river,
which was wide and open; but it seemed rather an objectless thing
to do, for the main range looked hopeless, and my curiosity about
the nature of the country above the gorge was now quite satisfied;
there was no money in it whatever, unless there should be minerals,
of which I saw no more signs than lower down.
However, I resolved that I would follow the river up, and not
return until I was compelled to do so. I would go up every branch
as far as I could, and wash well for gold. Chowbok liked seeing me
do this, but it never came to anything, for we did not even find
the colour. His dislike of the main range appeared to have worn
off, and he made no objections to approaching it. I think he
thought there was no danger of my trying to cross it, and he was
not afraid of anything on this side; besides, we might find gold.
But the fact was that he had made up his mind what to do if he saw
me getting too near it.
We passed three weeks in exploring, and never did I find time go
more quickly. The weather was fine, though the nights got very
cold. We followed every stream but one, and always found it lead
us to a glacier which was plainly impassable, at any rate without a
larger party and ropes. One stream remained, which I should have
followed up already, had not Chowbok said that he had risen early
one morning while I was yet asleep, and after going up it for three
or four miles, had seen that it was impossible to go farther. I
had long ago discovered that he was a great liar, so I was bent on
going up myself: in brief, I did so: so far from being
impossible, it was quite easy travelling; and after five or six
miles I saw a saddle at the end of it, which, though covered deep
in snow, was not glaciered, and which did verily appear to be part
of the main range itself. No words can express the intensity of my
delight. My blood was all on fire with hope and elation; but on
looking round for Chowbok, who was behind me, I saw to my surprise
and anger that he had turned back, and was going down the valley as
hard as he could. He had left me.
CHAPTER IV: THE SADDLE
I cooeyed to him, but he would not hear. I ran after him, but he
had got too good a start. Then I sat down on a stone and thought
the matter carefully over. It was plain that Chowbok had
designedly attempted to keep me from going up this valley, yet he
had shown no unwillingness to follow me anywhere else. What could
this mean, unless that I was now upon the route by which alone the
mysteries of the great ranges could be revealed? What then should
I do? Go back at the very moment when it had become plain that I
was on the right scent? Hardly; yet to proceed alone would be both
difficult and dangerous. It would be bad enough to return to my
master's run, and pass through the rocky gorges, with no chance of
help from another should I get into a difficulty; but to advance
for any considerable distance without a companion would be next
door to madness. Accidents which are slight when there is another
at hand (as the spraining of an ankle, or the falling into some
place whence escape would be easy by means of an outstretched hand
and a bit of rope) may be fatal to one who is alone. The more I
pondered the less I liked it; and yet, the less could I make up my
mind to return when I looked at the saddle at the head of the
valley, and noted the comparative ease with which its smooth sweep
of snow might be surmounted: I seemed to see my way almost from my
present position to the very top. After much thought, I resolved
to go forward until I should come to some place which was really
dangerous, but then to return. I should thus, I hoped, at any rate
reach the top of the saddle, and satisfy myself as to what might be
on the other side.
I had no time to lose, for it was now between ten and eleven in the
morning. Fortunately I was well equipped, for on leaving the camp
and the horses at the lower end of the valley I had provided myself
(according to my custom) with everything that I was likely to want
for four or five days. Chowbok had carried half, but had dropped
his whole swag--I suppose, at the moment of his taking flight--for
I came upon it when I ran after him. I had, therefore, his
provisions as well as my own. Accordingly, I took as many biscuits
as I thought I could carry, and also some tobacco, tea, and a few
matches. I rolled all these things (together with a flask nearly
full of brandy, which I had kept in my pocket for fear lest Chowbok
should get hold of it) inside my blankets, and strapped them very
tightly, making the whole into a long roll of some seven feet in
length and six inches in diameter. Then I tied the two ends
together, and put the whole round my neck and over one shoulder.
This is the easiest way of carrying a heavy swag, for one can rest
one's self by shifting the burden from one shoulder to the other.
I strapped my pannikin and a small axe about my waist, and thus
equipped began to ascend the valley, angry at having been misled by
Chowbok, but determined not to return till I was compelled to do
so.
I crossed and recrossed the stream several times without
difficulty, for there were many good fords. At one o'clock I was
at the foot of the saddle; for four hours I mounted, the last two
on the snow, where the going was easier; by five, I was within ten
minutes of the top, in a state of excitement greater, I think, than
I had ever known before. Ten minutes more, and the cold air from
the other side came rushing upon me.
A glance. I was NOT on the main range.
Another glance. There was an awful river, muddy and horribly
angry, roaring over an immense riverbed, thousands of feet below
me.
It went round to the westward, and I could see no farther up the
valley, save that there were enormous glaciers which must extend
round the source of the river, and from which it must spring.
Another glance, and then I remained motionless.
There was an easy pass in the mountains directly opposite to me,
through which I caught a glimpse of an immeasurable extent of blue
and distant plains.
Easy? Yes, perfectly easy; grassed nearly to the summit, which
was, as it were, an open path between two glaciers, from which an
inconsiderable stream came tumbling down over rough but very
possible hillsides, till it got down to the level of the great
river, and formed a flat where there was grass and a small bush of
stunted timber.
Almost before I could believe my eyes, a cloud had come up from the
valley on the other side, and the plains were hidden. What
wonderful luck was mine! Had I arrived five minutes later, the
cloud would have been over the pass, and I should not have known of
its existence. Now that the cloud was there, I began to doubt my
memory, and to be uncertain whether it had been more than a blue
line of distant vapour that had filled up the opening. I could
only be certain of this much, namely, that the river in the valley
below must be the one next to the northward of that which flowed
past my master's station; of this there could be no doubt. Could
I, however, imagine that my luck should have led me up a wrong
river in search of a pass, and yet brought me to the spot where I
could detect the one weak place in the fortifications of a more
northern basin? This was too improbable. But even as I doubted
there came a rent in the cloud opposite, and a second time I saw
blue lines of heaving downs, growing gradually fainter, and
retiring into a far space of plain. It was substantial; there had
been no mistake whatsoever. I had hardly made myself perfectly
sure of this, ere the rent in the clouds joined up again and I
could see nothing more.
What, then, should I do? The night would be upon me shortly, and I
was already chilled with standing still after the exertion of
climbing. To stay where I was would be impossible; I must either
go backwards or forwards. I found a rock which gave me shelter
from the evening wind, and took a good pull at the brandy flask,
which immediately warmed and encouraged me.
I asked myself, Could I descend upon the river-bed beneath me? It
was impossible to say what precipices might prevent my doing so.
If I were on the river-bed, dare I cross the river? I am an
excellent swimmer, yet, once in that frightful rush of waters, I
should be hurled whithersoever it willed, absolutely powerless.
Moreover, there was my swag; I should perish of cold and hunger if
I left it, but I should certainly be drowned if I attempted to
carry it across the river. These were serious considerations, but
the hope of finding an immense tract of available sheep country
(which I was determined that I would monopolise as far as I
possibly could) sufficed to outweigh them; and, in a few minutes, I
felt resolved that, having made so important a discovery as a pass
into a country which was probably as valuable as that on our own
side of the ranges, I would follow it up and ascertain its value,
even though I should pay the penalty of failure with life itself.
The more I thought, the more determined I became either to win fame
and perhaps fortune, by entering upon this unknown world, or give
up life in the attempt. In fact, I felt that life would be no
longer valuable if I were to have seen so great a prize and refused
to grasp at the possible profits therefrom.
I had still an hour of good daylight during which I might begin my
descent on to some suitable camping-ground, but there was not a
moment to be lost. At first I got along rapidly, for I was on the
snow, and sank into it enough to save me from falling, though I
went forward straight down the mountain side as fast as I could;
but there was less snow on this side than on the other, and I had
soon done with it, getting on to a coomb of dangerous and very
stony ground, where a slip might have given me a disastrous fall.
But I was careful with all my speed, and got safely to the bottom,
where there were patches of coarse grass, and an attempt here and
there at brushwood: what was below this I could not see. I
advanced a few hundred yards farther, and found that I was on the
brink of a frightful precipice, which no one in his senses would
attempt descending. I bethought me, however, to try the creek
which drained the coomb, and see whether it might not have made
itself a smoother way. In a few minutes I found myself at the
upper end of a chasm in the rocks, something like Twll Dhu, only on
a greatly larger scale; the creek had found its way into it, and
had worn a deep channel through a material which appeared softer
than that upon the other side of the mountain. I believe it must
have been a different geological formation, though I regret to say
that I cannot tell what it was.
I looked at this rift in great doubt; then I went a little way on
either side of it, and found myself looking over the edge of
horrible precipices on to the river, which roared some four or five
thousand feet below me. I dared not think of getting down at all,
unless I committed myself to the rift, of which I was hopeful when
I reflected that the rock was soft, and that the water might have
worn its channel tolerably evenly through the whole extent. The
darkness was increasing with every minute, but I should have
twilight for another half-hour, so I went into the chasm (though by
no means without fear), and resolved to return and camp, and try
some other path next day, should I come to any serious difficulty.
In about five minutes I had completely lost my head; the side of
the rift became hundreds of feet in height, and overhung so that I
could not see the sky. It was full of rocks, and I had many falls
and bruises. I was wet through from falling into the water, of
which there was no great volume, but it had such force that I could
do nothing against it; once I had to leap down a not inconsiderable
waterfall into a deep pool below, and my swag was so heavy that I
was very nearly drowned. I had indeed a hair's-breadth escape;
but, as luck would have it, Providence was on my side. Shortly
afterwards I began to fancy that the rift was getting wider, and
that there was more brushwood. Presently I found myself on an open
grassy slope, and feeling my way a little farther along the stream,
I came upon a flat place with wood, where I could camp comfortably;
which was well, for it was now quite dark.
My first care was for my matches; were they dry? The outside of my
swag had got completely wet; but, on undoing the blankets, I found
things warm and dry within. How thankful I was! I lit a fire, and
was grateful for its warmth and company. I made myself some tea
and ate two of my biscuits: my brandy I did not touch, for I had
little left, and might want it when my courage failed me. All that
I did, I did almost mechanically, for I could not realise my
situation to myself, beyond knowing that I was alone, and that
return through the chasm which I had just descended would be
impossible. It is a dreadful feeling that of being cut off from
all one's kind. I was still full of hope, and built golden castles
for myself as soon as I was warmed with food and fire; but I do not
believe that any man could long retain his reason in such solitude,
unless he had the companionship of animals. One begins doubting
one's own identity.
I remember deriving comfort even from the sight of my blankets, and
the sound of my watch ticking--things which seemed to link me to
other people; but the screaming of the wood-hens frightened me, as
also a chattering bird which I had never heard before, and which
seemed to laugh at me; though I soon got used to it, and before
long could fancy that it was many years since I had first heard it.
I took off my clothes, and wrapped my inside blanket about me, till
my things were dry. The night was very still, and I made a roaring
fire; so I soon got warm, and at last could put my clothes on
again. Then I strapped my blanket round me, and went to sleep as
near the fire as I could.
I dreamed that there was an organ placed in my master's wool-shed:
the wool-shed faded away, and the organ seemed to grow and grow
amid a blaze of brilliant light, till it became like a golden city
upon the side of a mountain, with rows upon rows of pipes set in
cliffs and precipices, one above the other, and in mysterious
caverns, like that of Fingal, within whose depths I could see the
burnished pillars gleaming. In the front there was a flight of
lofty terraces, at the top of which I could see a man with his head
buried forward towards a key-board, and his body swaying from side
to side amid the storm of huge arpeggioed harmonies that came
crashing overhead and round. Then there was one who touched me on
the shoulder, and said, "Do you not see? it is Handel";--but I had
hardly apprehended, and was trying to scale the terraces, and get
near him, when I awoke, dazzled with the vividness and distinctness
of the dream.
A piece of wood had burned through, and the ends had fallen into
the ashes with a blaze: this, I supposed, had both given me my
dream and robbed me of it. I was bitterly disappointed, and
sitting up on my elbow, came back to reality and my strange
surroundings as best I could.
I was thoroughly aroused--moreover, I felt a foreshadowing as
though my attention were arrested by something more than the dream,
although no sense in particular was as yet appealed to. I held my
breath and waited, and then I heard--was it fancy? Nay; I listened
again and again, and I DID hear a faint and extremely distant sound
of music, like that of an AEolian harp, borne upon the wind which
was blowing fresh and chill from the opposite mountains.
The roots of my hair thrilled. I listened, but the wind had died;
and, fancying that it must have been the wind itself--no; on a
sudden I remembered the noise which Chowbok had made in the wool-
shed. Yes; it was that.
Thank Heaven, whatever it was, it was over now. I reasoned with
myself, and recovered my firmness. I became convinced that I had
only been dreaming more vividly than usual. Soon I began even to
laugh, and think what a fool I was to be frightened at nothing,
reminding myself that even if I were to come to a bad end it would
be no such dreadful matter after all. I said my prayers, a duty
which I had too often neglected, and in a little time fell into a
really refreshing sleep, which lasted till broad daylight, and
restored me. I rose, and searching among the embers of my fire, I
found a few live coals and soon had a blaze again. I got
breakfast, and was delighted to have the company of several small
birds, which hopped about me and perched on my boots and hands. I
felt comparatively happy, but I can assure the reader that I had
had a far worse time of it than I have told him; and I strongly
recommend him to remain in Europe if he can; or, at any rate, in
some country which has been explored and settled, rather than go
into places where others have not been before him. Exploring is
delightful to look forward to and back upon, but it is not
comfortable at the time, unless it be of such an easy nature as not
to deserve the name.
CHAPTER V: THE RIVER AND THE RANGE
My next business was to descend upon the river. I had lost sight
of the pass which I had seen from the saddle, but had made such
notes of it that I could not fail to find it. I was bruised and
stiff, and my boots had begun to give, for I had been going on
rough ground for more than three weeks; but, as the day wore on,
and I found myself descending without serious difficulty, I became
easier. In a couple of hours I got among pine forests where there
was little undergrowth, and descended quickly till I reached the
edge of another precipice, which gave me a great deal of trouble,
though I eventually managed to avoid it. By about three or four
o'clock I found myself on the river-bed.
From calculations which I made as to the height of the valley on
the other side the saddle over which I had come, I concluded that
the saddle itself could not be less than nine thousand feet high;
and I should think that the river-bed, on to which I now descended,
was three thousand feet above the sea-level. The water had a
terrific current, with a fall of not less than forty to fifty feet
per mile. It was certainly the river next to the northward of that
which flowed past my master's run, and would have to go through an
impassable gorge (as is commonly the case with the rivers of that
country) before it came upon known parts. It was reckoned to be
nearly two thousand feet above the sea-level where it came out of
the gorge on to the plains.
As soon as I got to the river side I liked it even less than I
thought I should. It was muddy, being near its parent glaciers.
The stream was wide, rapid, and rough, and I could hear the smaller
stones knocking against each other under the rage of the waters, as
upon a seashore. Fording was out of the question. I could not
swim and carry my swag, and I dared not leave my swag behind me.
My only chance was to make a small raft; and that would be
difficult to make, and not at all safe when it was made,--not for
one man in such a current.
As it was too late to do much that afternoon, I spent the rest of
it in going up and down the river side, and seeing where I should
find the most favourable crossing. Then I camped early, and had a
quiet comfortable night with no more music, for which I was
thankful, as it had haunted me all day, although I perfectly well
knew that it had been nothing but my own fancy, brought on by the
reminiscence of what I had heard from Chowbok and by the over-
excitement of the preceding evening.
Next day I began gathering the dry bloom stalks of a kind of flag
or iris-looking plant, which was abundant, and whose leaves, when
torn into strips, were as strong as the strongest string. I
brought them to the waterside, and fell to making myself a kind of
rough platform, which should suffice for myself and my swag if I
could only stick to it. The stalks were ten or twelve feet long,
and very strong, but light and hollow. I made my raft entirely of
them, binding bundles of them at right angles to each other, neatly
and strongly, with strips from the leaves of the same plant, and
tying other rods across. It took me all day till nearly four
o'clock to finish the raft, but I had still enough daylight for
crossing, and resolved on doing so at once.
I had selected a place where the river was broad and comparatively
still, some seventy or eighty yards above a furious rapid. At this
spot I had built my raft. I now launched it, made my swag fast to
the middle, and got on to it myself, keeping in my hand one of the
longest blossom stalks, so that I might punt myself across as long
as the water was shallow enough to let me do so. I got on pretty
well for twenty or thirty yards from the shore, but even in this
short space I nearly upset my raft by shifting too rapidly from one
side to the other. The water then became much deeper, and I leaned
over so far in order to get the bloom rod to the bottom that I had
to stay still, leaning on the rod for a few seconds. Then, when I
lifted up the rod from the ground, the current was too much for me
and I found myself being carried down the rapid. Everything in a
second flew past me, and I had no more control over the raft;
neither can I remember anything except hurry, and noise, and waters
which in the end upset me. But it all came right, and I found
myself near the shore, not more than up to my knees in water and
pulling my raft to land, fortunately upon the left bank of the
river, which was the one I wanted. When I had landed I found that
I was about a mile, or perhaps a little less, below the point from
which I started. My swag was wet upon the outside, and I was
myself dripping; but I had gained my point, and knew that my
difficulties were for a time over. I then lit my fire and dried
myself; having done so I caught some of the young ducks and sea-
gulls, which were abundant on and near the river-bed, so that I had
not only a good meal, of which I was in great want, having had an
insufficient diet from the time that Chowbok left me, but was also
well provided for the morrow.
I thought of Chowbok, and felt how useful he had been to me, and in
how many ways I was the loser by his absence, having now to do all
sorts of things for myself which he had hitherto done for me, and
could do infinitely better than I could. Moreover, I had set my
heart upon making him a real convert to the Christian religion,
which he had already embraced outwardly, though I cannot think that
it had taken deep root in his impenetrably stupid nature. I used
to catechise him by our camp fire, and explain to him the mysteries
of the Trinity and of original sin, with which I was myself
familiar, having been the grandson of an archdeacon by my mother's
side, to say nothing of the fact that my father was a clergyman of
the English Church. I was therefore sufficiently qualified for the
task, and was the more inclined to it, over and above my real
desire to save the unhappy creature from an eternity of torture, by
recollecting the promise of St. James, that if any one converted a
sinner (which Chowbok surely was) he should hide a multitude of
sins. I reflected, therefore, that the conversion of Chowbok might
in some degree compensate for irregularities and short-comings in
my own previous life, the remembrance of which had been more than
once unpleasant to me during my recent experiences.
Indeed, on one occasion I had even gone so far as to baptize him,
as well as I could, having ascertained that he had certainly not
been both christened and baptized, and gathering (from his telling
me that he had received the name William from the missionary) that
it was probably the first-mentioned rite to which he had been
subjected. I thought it great carelessness on the part of the
missionary to have omitted the second, and certainly more
important, ceremony which I have always understood precedes
christening both in the case of infants and of adult converts; and
when I thought of the risks we were both incurring I determined
that there should be no further delay. Fortunately it was not yet
twelve o'clock, so I baptized him at once from one of the pannikins
(the only vessels I had) reverently, and, I trust, efficiently. I
then set myself to work to instruct him in the deeper mysteries of
our belief, and to make him, not only in name, but in heart a
Christian.
It is true that I might not have succeeded, for Chowbok was very
hard to teach. Indeed, on the evening of the same day that I
baptized him he tried for the twentieth time to steal the brandy,
which made me rather unhappy as to whether I could have baptized
him rightly. He had a prayer-book--more than twenty years old--
which had been given him by the missionaries, but the only thing in
it which had taken any living hold upon him was the title of
Adelaide the Queen Dowager, which he would repeat whenever strongly
moved or touched, and which did really seem to have some deep
spiritual significance to him, though he could never completely
separate her individuality from that of Mary Magdalene, whose name
had also fascinated him, though in a less degree.
He was indeed stony ground, but by digging about him I might have
at any rate deprived him of all faith in the religion of his tribe,
which would have been half way towards making him a sincere
Christian; and now all this was cut off from me, and I could
neither be of further spiritual assistance to him nor he of bodily
profit to myself: besides, any company was better than being quite
alone.
I got very melancholy as these reflections crossed me, but when I
had boiled the ducks and eaten them I was much better. I had a
little tea left and about a pound of tobacco, which should last me
for another fortnight with moderate smoking. I had also eight ship
biscuits, and, most precious of all, about six ounces of brandy,
which I presently reduced to four, for the night was cold.
I rose with early dawn, and in an hour I was on my way, feeling
strange, not to say weak, from the burden of solitude, but full of
hope when I considered how many dangers I had overcome, and that
this day should see me at the summit of the dividing range.
After a slow but steady climb of between three and four hours,
during which I met with no serious hindrance, I found myself upon a
tableland, and close to a glacier which I recognised as marking the
summit of the pass. Above it towered a succession of rugged
precipices and snowy mountain sides. The solitude was greater than
I could bear; the mountain upon my master's sheep-run was a crowded
thoroughfare in comparison with this sombre sullen place. The air,
moreover, was dark and heavy, which made the loneliness even more
oppressive. There was an inky gloom over all that was not covered
with snow and ice. Grass there was none.
Each moment I felt increasing upon me that dreadful doubt as to my
own identity--as to the continuity of my past and present
existence--which is the first sign of that distraction which comes
on those who have lost themselves in the bush. I had fought
against this feeling hitherto, and had conquered it; but the
intense silence and gloom of this rocky wilderness were too much
for me, and I felt that my power of collecting myself was beginning
to be impaired.
I rested for a little while, and then advanced over very rough
ground, until I reached the lower end of the glacier. Then I saw
another glacier, descending from the eastern side into a small
lake. I passed along the western side of the lake, where the
ground was easier, and when I had got about half way I expected
that I should see the plains which I had already seen from the
opposite mountains; but it was not to be so, for the clouds rolled
up to the very summit of the pass, though they did not overlip it
on to the side from which I had come. I therefore soon found
myself enshrouded by a cold thin vapour, which prevented my seeing
more than a very few yards in front of me. Then I came upon a
large patch of old snow, in which I could distinctly trace the
half-melted tracks of goats--and in one place, as it seemed to me,
there had been a dog following them. Had I lighted upon a land of
shepherds? The ground, where not covered with snow, was so poor
and stony, and there was so little herbage, that I could see no
sign of a path or regular sheep-track. But I could not help
feeling rather uneasy as I wondered what sort of a reception I
might meet with if I were to come suddenly upon inhabitants. I was
thinking of this, and proceeding cautiously through the mist, when
I began to fancy that I saw some objects darker than the cloud
looming in front of me. A few steps brought me nearer, and a
shudder of unutterable horror ran through me when I saw a circle of
gigantic forms, many times higher than myself, upstanding grim and
grey through the veil of cloud before me.
I suppose I must have fainted, for I found myself some time
afterwards sitting upon the ground, sick and deadly cold. There
were the figures, quite still and silent, seen vaguely through the
thick gloom, but in human shape indisputably.
A sudden thought occurred to me, which would have doubtless struck
me at once had I not been prepossessed with forebodings at the time
that I first saw the figures, and had not the cloud concealed them
from me--I mean that they were not living beings, but statues. I
determined that I would count fifty slowly, and was sure that the
objects were not alive if during that time I could detect no sign
of motion.
How thankful was I when I came to the end of my fifty and there had
been no movement!
I counted a second time--but again all was still.
I then advanced timidly forward, and in another moment I saw that
my surmise was correct. I had come upon a sort of Stonehenge of
rude and barbaric figures, seated as Chowbok had sat when I
questioned him in the wool-shed, and with the same superhumanly
malevolent expression upon their faces. They had been all seated,
but two had fallen. They were barbarous--neither Egyptian, nor
Assyrian, nor Japanese--different from any of these, and yet akin
to all. They were six or seven times larger than life, of great
antiquity, worn and lichen grown. They were ten in number. There
was snow upon their heads and wherever snow could lodge. Each
statue had been built of four or five enormous blocks, but how
these had been raised and put together is known to those alone who
raised them. Each was terrible after a different kind. One was
raging furiously, as in pain and great despair; another was lean
and cadaverous with famine; another cruel and idiotic, but with the
silliest simper that can be conceived--this one had fallen, and
looked exquisitely ludicrous in his fall--the mouths of all were
more or less open, and as I looked at them from behind, I saw that
their heads had been hollowed.
I was sick and shivering with cold. Solitude had unmanned me
already, and I was utterly unfit to have come upon such an assembly
of fiends in such a dreadful wilderness and without preparation. I
would have given everything I had in the world to have been back at
my master's station; but that was not to be thought of: my head
was failing, and I felt sure that I could never get back alive.
Then came a gust of howling wind, accompanied with a moan from one
of the statues above me. I clasped my hands in fear. I felt like
a rat caught in a trap, as though I would have turned and bitten at
whatever thing was nearest me. The wildness of the wind increased,
the moans grew shriller, coming from several statues, and swelling
into a chorus. I almost immediately knew what it was, but the
sound was so unearthly that this was but little consolation. The
inhuman beings into whose hearts the Evil One had put it to
conceive these statues, had made their heads into a sort of organ-
pipe, so that their mouths should catch the wind and sound with its
blowing. It was horrible. However brave a man might be, he could
never stand such a concert, from such lips, and in such a place. I
heaped every invective upon them that my tongue could utter as I
rushed away from them into the mist, and even after I had lost
sight of them, and turning my head round could see nothing but the
storm-wraiths driving behind me, I heard their ghostly chanting,
and felt as though one of them would rush after me and grip me in
his hand and throttle me.
I may say here that, since my return to England, I heard a friend
playing some chords upon the organ which put me very forcibly in
mind of the Erewhonian statues (for Erewhon is the name of the
country upon which I was now entering). They rose most vividly to
my recollection the moment my friend began. They are as follows,
and are by the greatest of all musicians:- {2}
[Music score which cannot be reproduced]
CHAPTER VI: INTO EREWHON
And now I found myself on a narrow path which followed a small
watercourse. I was too glad to have an easy track for my flight,
to lay hold of the full significance of its existence. The
thought, however, soon presented itself to me that I must be in an
inhabited country, but one which was yet unknown. What, then, was
to be my fate at the hands of its inhabitants? Should I be taken
and offered up as a burnt-offering to those hideous guardians of
the pass? It might be so. I shuddered at the thought, yet the
horrors of solitude had now fairly possessed me; and so dazed was
I, and chilled, and woebegone, that I could lay hold of no idea
firmly amid the crowd of fancies that kept wandering in upon my
brain.
I hurried onward--down, down, down. More streams came in; then
there was a bridge, a few pine logs thrown over the water; but they
gave me comfort, for savages do not make bridges. Then I had a
treat such as I can never convey on paper--a moment, perhaps, the
most striking and unexpected in my whole life--the one I think
that, with some three or four exceptions, I would most gladly have
again, were I able to recall it. I got below the level of the
clouds, into a burst of brilliant evening sunshine, I was facing
the north-west, and the sun was full upon me. Oh, how its light
cheered me! But what I saw! It was such an expanse as was
revealed to Moses when he stood upon the summit of Mount Sinai, and
beheld that promised land which it was not to be his to enter. The
beautiful sunset sky was crimson and gold; blue, silver, and
purple; exquisite and tranquillising; fading away therein were
plains, on which I could see many a town and city, with buildings
that had lofty steeples and rounded domes. Nearer beneath me lay
ridge behind ridge, outline behind outline, sunlight behind shadow,
and shadow behind sunlight, gully and serrated ravine. I saw large
pine forests, and the glitter of a noble river winding its way upon
the plains; also many villages and hamlets, some of them quite near
at hand; and it was on these that I pondered most. I sank upon the
ground at the foot of a large tree and thought what I had best do;
but I could not collect myself. I was quite tired out; and
presently, feeling warmed by the sun, and quieted, I fell off into
a profound sleep.
I was awoke by the sound of tinkling bells, and looking up, I saw
four or five goats feeding near me. As soon as I moved, the
creatures turned their heads towards me with an expression of
infinite wonder. They did not run away, but stood stock still, and
looked at me from every side, as I at them. Then came the sound of
chattering and laughter, and there approached two lovely girls, of
about seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed each in a sort of
linen gaberdine, with a girdle round the waist. They saw me. I
sat quite still and looked at them, dazzled with their extreme
beauty. For a moment they looked at me and at each other in great
amazement; then they gave a little frightened cry and ran off as
hard as they could.
"So that's that," said I to myself, as I watched them scampering.
I knew that I had better stay where I was and meet my fate,
whatever it was to be, and even if there were a better course, I
had no strength left to take it. I must come into contact with the
inhabitants sooner or later, and it might as well be sooner.
Better not to seem afraid of them, as I should do by running away
and being caught with a hue and cry to-morrow or next day. So I
remained quite still and waited. In about an hour I heard distant
voices talking excitedly, and in a few minutes I saw the two girls
bringing up a party of six or seven men, well armed with bows and
arrows and pikes. There was nothing for it, so I remained sitting
quite still, even after they had seen me, until they came close up.
Then we all had a good look at one another.
Both the girls and the men were very dark in colour, but not more
so than the South Italians or Spaniards. The men wore no trousers,
but were dressed nearly the same as the Arabs whom I have seen in
Algeria. They were of the most magnificent presence, being no less
strong and handsome than the women were beautiful; and not only
this, but their expression was courteous and benign. I think they
would have killed me at once if I had made the slightest show of
violence; but they gave me no impression of their being likely to
hurt me so long as I was quiet. I am not much given to liking
anybody at first sight, but these people impressed me much more
favourably than I should have thought possible, so that I could not
fear them as I scanned their faces one after another. They were
all powerful men. I might have been a match for any one of them
singly, for I have been told that I have more to glory in the flesh
than in any other respect, being over six feet and proportionately
strong; but any two could have soon mastered me, even were I not so
bereft of energy by my recent adventures. My colour seemed to
surprise them most, for I have light hair, blue eyes, and a fresh
complexion. They could not understand how these things could be;
my clothes also seemed quite beyond them. Their eyes kept
wandering all over me, and the more they looked the less they
seemed able to make me out.
At last I raised myself upon my feet, and leaning upon my stick, I
spoke whatever came into my head to the man who seemed foremost
among them. I spoke in English, though I was very sure that he
would not understand. I said that I had no idea what country I was
in; that I had stumbled upon it almost by accident, after a series
of hairbreadth escapes; and that I trusted they would not allow any
evil to overtake me now that I was completely at their mercy. All
this I said quietly and firmly, with hardly any change of
expression. They could not understand me, but they looked
approvingly to one another, and seemed pleased (so I thought) that
I showed no fear nor acknowledgment of inferiority--the fact being
that I was exhausted beyond the sense of fear. Then one of them
pointed to the mountain, in the direction of the statues, and made
a grimace in imitation of one of them. I laughed and shuddered
expressively, whereon they all burst out laughing too, and
chattered hard to one another. I could make out nothing of what
they said, but I think they thought it rather a good joke that I
had come past the statues. Then one among them came forward and
motioned me to follow, which I did without hesitation, for I dared
not thwart them; moreover, I liked them well enough, and felt
tolerably sure that they had no intention of hurting me.
In about a quarter of an hour we got to a small Hamlet built on the
side of a hill, with a narrow street and houses huddled up
together. The roofs were large and overhanging. Some few windows
were glazed, but not many. Altogether the village was exceedingly
like one of those that one comes upon in descending the less known
passes over the Alps on to Lombardy. I will pass over the
excitement which my arrival caused. Suffice it, that though there
was abundance of curiosity, there was no rudeness. I was taken to
the principal house, which seemed to belong to the people who had
captured me. There I was hospitably entertained, and a supper of
milk and goat's flesh with a kind of oatcake was set before me, of
which I ate heartily. But all the time I was eating I could not
help turning my eyes upon the two beautiful girls whom I had first
seen, and who seemed to consider me as their lawful prize--which
indeed I was, for I would have gone through fire and water for
either of them.
Then came the inevitable surprise at seeing me smoke, which I will
spare the reader; but I noticed that when they saw me strike a
match, there was a hubbub of excitement which, it struck me, was
not altogether unmixed with disapproval: why, I could not guess.
Then the women retired, and I was left alone with the men, who
tried to talk to me in every conceivable way; but we could come to
no understanding, except that I was quite alone, and had come from
a long way over the mountains. In the course of time they grew
tired, and I very sleepy. I made signs as though I would sleep on
the floor in my blankets, but they gave me one of their bunks with
plenty of dried fern and grass, on to which I had no sooner laid
myself than I fell fast asleep; nor did I awake till well into the
following day, when I found myself in the hut with two men keeping
guard over me and an old woman cooking. When I woke the men seemed
pleased, and spoke to me as though bidding me good morning in a
pleasant tone.
I went out of doors to wash in a creek which ran a few yards from
the house. My hosts were as engrossed with me as ever; they never
took their eyes off me, following every action that I did, no
matter how trifling, and each looking towards the other for his
opinion at every touch and turn. They took great interest in my
ablutions, for they seemed to have doubted whether I was in all
respects human like themselves. They even laid hold of my arms and
overhauled them, and expressed approval when they saw that they
were strong and muscular. They now examined my legs, and
especially my feet. When they desisted they nodded approvingly to
each other; and when I had combed and brushed my hair, and
generally made myself as neat and well arranged as circumstances
would allow, I could see that their respect for me increased
greatly, and that they were by no means sure that they had treated
me with sufficient deference--a matter on which I am not competent
to decide. All I know is that they were very good to me, for which
I thanked them heartily, as it might well have been otherwise.
For my own part, I liked them and admired them, for their quiet
self-possession and dignified ease impressed me pleasurably at
once. Neither did their manner make me feel as though I were
personally distasteful to them--only that I was a thing utterly new
and unlooked for, which they could not comprehend. Their type was
more that of the most robust Italians than any other; their manners
also were eminently Italian, in their entire unconsciousness of
self. Having travelled a good deal in Italy, I was struck with
little gestures of the hand and shoulders, which constantly
reminded me of that country. My feeling was that my wisest plan
would be to go on as I had begun, and be simply myself for better
or worse, such as I was, and take my chance accordingly.
I thought of these things while they were waiting for me to have
done washing, and on my way back. Then they gave me breakfast--hot
bread and milk, and fried flesh of something between mutton and
venison. Their ways of cooking and eating were European, though
they had only a skewer for a fork, and a sort of butcher's knife to
cut with. The more I looked at everything in the house, the more I
was struck with its quasi-European character; and had the walls
only been pasted over with extracts from the Illustrated London
News and Punch, I could have almost fancied myself in a shepherd's
hut upon my master's sheep-run. And yet everything was slightly
different. It was much the same with the birds and flowers on the
other side, as compared with the English ones. On my arrival I had
been pleased at noticing that nearly all the plants and birds were
very like common English ones: thus, there was a robin, and a
lark, and a wren, and daisies, and dandelions; not quite the same
as the English, but still very like them--quite like enough to be
called by the same name; so now, here, the ways of these two men,
and the things they had in the house, were all very nearly the same
as in Europe. It was not at all like going to China or Japan,
where everything that one sees is strange. I was, indeed, at once
struck with the primitive character of their appliances, for they
seemed to be some five or six hundred years behind Europe in their
inventions; but this is the case in many an Italian village.
All the time that I was eating my breakfast I kept speculating as
to what family of mankind they could belong to; and shortly there
came an idea into my head, which brought the blood into my cheeks
with excitement as I thought of it. Was it possible that they
might be the lost ten tribes of Israel, of whom I had heard both my
grandfather and my father make mention as existing in an unknown
country, and awaiting a final return to Palestine? Was it possible
that I might have been designed by Providence as the instrument of
their conversion? Oh, what a thought was this! I laid down my
skewer and gave them a hasty survey. There was nothing of a Jewish
type about them: their noses were distinctly Grecian, and their
lips, though full, were not Jewish.
How could I settle this question? I knew neither Greek nor Hebrew,
and even if I should get to understand the language here spoken, I
should be unable to detect the roots of either of these tongues. I
had not been long enough among them to ascertain their habits, but
they did not give me the impression of being a religious people.
This too was natural: the ten tribes had been always lamentably
irreligious. But could I not make them change? To restore the
lost ten tribes of Israel to a knowledge of the only truth: here
would be indeed an immortal crown of glory! My heart beat fast and
furious as I entertained the thought. What a position would it not
ensure me in the next world; or perhaps even in this! What folly
it would be to throw such a chance away! I should rank next to the
Apostles, if not as high as they--certainly above the minor
prophets, and possibly above any Old Testament writer except Moses
and Isaiah. For such a future as this I would sacrifice all that I
have without a moment's hesitation, could I be reasonably assured
of it. I had always cordially approved of missionary efforts, and
had at times contributed my mite towards their support and
extension; but I had never hitherto felt drawn towards becoming a
missionary myself; and indeed had always admired, and envied, and
respected them, more than I had exactly liked them. But if these
people were the lost ten tribes of Israel, the case would be widely
different: the opening was too excellent to be lost, and I
resolved that should I see indications which appeared to confirm my
impression that I had indeed come upon the missing tribes, I would
certainly convert them.
I may here mention that this discovery is the one to which I
alluded in the opening pages of my story. Time strengthened the
impression made upon me at first; and, though I remained in doubt
for several months, I feel now no longer uncertain.
When I had done eating, my hosts approached, and pointed down the
valley leading to their own country, as though wanting to show that
I must go with them; at the same time they laid hold of my arms,
and made as though they would take me, but used no violence. I
laughed, and motioned my hand across my throat, pointing down the
valley as though I was afraid lest I should be killed when I got
there. But they divined me at once, and shook their heads with
much decision, to show that I was in no danger. Their manner quite
reassured me; and in half an hour or so I had packed up my swag,
and was eager for the forward journey, feeling wonderfully
strengthened and refreshed by good food and sleep, while my hope
and curiosity were aroused to their very utmost by the
extraordinary position in which I found myself.
But already my excitement had begun to cool and I reflected that
these people might not be the ten tribes after all; in which case I
could not but regret that my hopes of making money, which had led
me into so much trouble and danger, were almost annihilated by the
fact that the country was full to overflowing, with a people who
had probably already developed its more available resources.
Moreover, how was I to get back? For there was something about my
hosts which told me that they had got me, and meant to keep me, in
spite of all their goodness.
CHAPTER VII: FIRST IMPRESSIONS
We followed an Alpine path for some four miles, now hundreds of
feet above a brawling stream which descended from the glaciers, and
now nearly alongside it. The morning was cold and somewhat foggy,
for the autumn had made great strides latterly. Sometimes we went
through forests of pine, or rather yew trees, though they looked
like pine; and I remember that now and again we passed a little
wayside shrine, wherein there would be a statue of great beauty,
representing some figure, male or female, in the very heyday of
youth, strength, and beauty, or of the most dignified maturity and
old age. My hosts always bowed their heads as they passed one of
these shrines, and it shocked me to see statues that had no
apparent object, beyond the chronicling of some unusual individual
excellence or beauty, receive so serious a homage. However, I
showed no sign of wonder or disapproval; for I remembered that to
be all things to all men was one of the injunctions of the Gentile
Apostle, which for the present I should do well to heed. Shortly
after passing one of these chapels we came suddenly upon a village
which started up out of the mist; and I was alarmed lest I should
be made an object of curiosity or dislike. But it was not so. My
guides spoke to many in passing, and those spoken to showed much
amazement. My guides, however, were well known, and the natural
politeness of the people prevented them from putting me to any
inconvenience; but they could not help eyeing me, nor I them. I
may as well say at once what my after-experience taught me--namely,
that with all their faults and extraordinary obliquity of mental
vision upon many subjects, they are the very best-bred people that
I ever fell in with.
The village was just like the one we had left, only rather larger.
The streets were narrow and unpaved, but very fairly clean. The
vine grew outside many of the houses; and there were some with
sign-boards, on which was painted a bottle and a glass, that made
me feel much at home. Even on this ledge of human society there
was a stunted growth of shoplets, which had taken root and
vegetated somehow, though as in an air mercantile of the bleakest.
It was here as hitherto: all things were generically the same as
in Europe, the differences being of species only; and I was amused
at seeing in a window some bottles with barley-sugar and sweetmeats
for children, as at home; but the barley-sugar was in plates, not
in twisted sticks, and was coloured blue. Glass was plentiful in
the better houses.
Lastly, I should say that the people were of a physical beauty
which was simply amazing. I never saw anything in the least
comparable to them. The women were vigorous, and had a most
majestic gait, their heads being set upon their shoulders with a
grace beyond all power of expression. Each feature was finished,
eyelids, eyelashes, and ears being almost invariably perfect.
Their colour was equal to that of the finest Italian paintings;
being of the clearest olive, and yet ruddy with a glow of perfect
health. Their expression was divine; and as they glanced at me
timidly but with parted lips in great bewilderment, I forgot all
thoughts of their conversion in feelings that were far more
earthly. I was dazzled as I saw one after the other, of whom I
could only feel that each was the loveliest I had ever seen. Even
in middle age they were still comely, and the old grey-haired women
at their cottage doors had a dignity, not to say majesty, of their
own.
The men were as handsome as the women beautiful. I have always
delighted in and reverenced beauty; but I felt simply abashed in
the presence of such a splendid type--a compound of all that is
best in Egyptian, Greek and Italian. The children were infinite in
number, and exceedingly merry; I need hardly say that they came in
for their full share of the prevailing beauty. I expressed by
signs my admiration and pleasure to my guides, and they were
greatly pleased. I should add that all seemed to take a pride in
their personal appearance, and that even the poorest (and none
seemed rich) were well kempt and tidy. I could fill many pages
with a description of their dress and the ornaments which they
wore, and a hundred details which struck me with all the force of
novelty; but I must not stay to do so.
When we had got past the village the fog rose, and revealed
magnificent views of the snowy mountains and their nearer
abutments, while in front I could now and again catch glimpses of
the great plains which I had surveyed on the preceding evening.
The country was highly cultivated, every ledge being planted with
chestnuts, walnuts, and apple-trees from which the apples were now
gathering. Goats were abundant; also a kind of small black cattle,
in the marshes near the river, which was now fast widening, and
running between larger flats from which the hills receded more and
more. I saw a few sheep with rounded noses and enormous tails.
Dogs were there in plenty, and very English; but I saw no cats, nor
indeed are these creatures known, their place being supplied by a
sort of small terrier.
In about four hours of walking from the time we started, and after
passing two or three more villages, we came upon a considerable
town, and my guides made many attempts to make me understand
something, but I gathered no inkling of their meaning, except that
I need be under no apprehension of danger. I will spare the reader
any description of the town, and would only bid him think of
Domodossola or Faido. Suffice it that I found myself taken before
the chief magistrate, and by his orders was placed in an apartment
with two other people, who were the first I had seen looking
anything but well and handsome. In fact, one of them was plainly
very much out of health, and coughed violently from time to time in
spite of manifest efforts to suppress it. The other looked pale
and ill but he was marvellously self-contained, and it was
impossible to say what was the matter with him. Both of them
appeared astonished at seeing one who was evidently a stranger, but
they were too ill to come up to me, and form conclusions concerning
me. These two were first called out; and in about a quarter of an
hour I was made to follow them, which I did in some fear, and with
much curiosity.
The chief magistrate was a venerable-looking man, with white hair
and beard and a face of great sagacity. He looked me all over for
about five minutes, letting his eyes wander from the crown of my
head to the soles of my feet, up and down, and down and up; neither
did his mind seem in the least clearer when he had done looking
than when he began. He at length asked me a single short question,
which I supposed meant "Who are you?" I answered in English quite
composedly as though he would understand me, and endeavoured to be
my very most natural self as well as I could. He appeared more and
more puzzled, and then retired, returning with two others much like
himself. Then they took me into an inner room, and the two fresh
arrivals stripped me, while the chief looked on. They felt my
pulse, they looked at my tongue, they listened at my chest, they
felt all my muscles; and at the end of each operation they looked
at the chief and nodded, and said something in a tone quite
pleasant, as though I were all right. They even pulled down my
eyelids, and looked, I suppose, to see if they were bloodshot; but
it was not so. At length they gave up; and I think that all were
satisfied of my being in the most perfect health, and very robust
to boot. At last the old magistrate made me a speech of about five
minutes long, which the other two appeared to think greatly to the
point, but from which I gathered nothing. As soon as it was ended,
they proceeded to overhaul my swag and the contents of my pockets.
This gave me little uneasiness, for I had no money with me, nor
anything which they were at all likely to want, or which I cared
about losing. At least I fancied so, but I soon found my mistake.
They got on comfortably at first, though they were much puzzled
with my tobacco-pipe and insisted on seeing me use it. When I had
shown them what I did with it, they were astonished but not
displeased, and seemed to like the smell. But by and by they came
to my watch, which I had hidden away in the inmost pocket that I
had, and had forgotten when they began their search. They seemed
concerned and uneasy as soon as they got hold of it. They then
made me open it and show the works; and when I had done so they
gave signs of very grave displeasure, which disturbed me all the
more because I could not conceive wherein it could have offended
them.
I remember that when they first found it I had thought of Paley,
and how he tells us that a savage on seeing a watch would at once
conclude that it was designed. True, these people were not
savages, but I none the less felt sure that this was the conclusion
they would arrive at; and I was thinking what a wonderfully wise
man Archbishop Paley must have been, when I was aroused by a look
of horror and dismay upon the face of the magistrate, a look which
conveyed to me the impression that he regarded my watch not as
having been designed, but rather as the designer of himself and of
the universe; or as at any rate one of the great first causes of
all things.
Then it struck me that this view was quite as likely to be taken as
the other by a people who had no experience of European
civilisation, and I was a little piqued with Paley for having led
me so much astray; but I soon discovered that I had misinterpreted
the expression on the magistrate's face, and that it was one not of
fear, but hatred. He spoke to me solemnly and sternly for two or
three minutes. Then, reflecting that this was of no use, he caused
me to be conducted through several passages into a large room,
which I afterwards found was the museum of the town, and wherein I
beheld a sight which astonished me more than anything that I had
yet seen.
It was filled with cases containing all manner of curiosities--such
as skeletons, stuffed birds and animals, carvings in stone (whereof
I saw several that were like those on the saddle, only smaller),
but the greater part of the room was occupied by broken machinery
of all descriptions. The larger specimens had a case to
themselves, and tickets with writing on them in a character which I
could not understand. There were fragments of steam engines, all
broken and rusted; among them I saw a cylinder and piston, a broken
fly-wheel, and part of a crank, which was laid on the ground by
their side. Again, there was a very old carriage whose wheels in
spite of rust and decay, I could see, had been designed originally
for iron rails. Indeed, there were fragments of a great many of
our own most advanced inventions; but they seemed all to be several
hundred years old, and to be placed where they were, not for
instruction, but curiosity. As I said before, all were marred and
broken.
We passed many cases, and at last came to one in which there were
several clocks and two or three old watches. Here the magistrate
stopped, and opening the case began comparing my watch with the
others. The design was different, but the thing was clearly the
same. On this he turned to me and made me a speech in a severe and
injured tone of voice, pointing repeatedly to the watches in the
case, and to my own; neither did he seem in the least appeased
until I made signs to him that he had better take my watch and put
it with the others. This had some effect in calming him. I said
in English (trusting to tone and manner to convey my meaning) that
I was exceedingly sorry if I had been found to have anything
contraband in my possession; that I had had no intention of evading
the ordinary tolls, and that I would gladly forfeit the watch if my
doing so would atone for an unintentional violation of the law. He
began presently to relent, and spoke to me in a kinder manner. I
think he saw that I had offended without knowledge; but I believe
the chief thing that brought him round was my not seeming to be
afraid of him, although I was quite respectful; this, and my having
light hair and complexion, on which he had remarked previously by
signs, as every one else had done.
I afterwards found that it was reckoned a very great merit to have
fair hair, this being a thing of the rarest possible occurrence,
and greatly admired and envied in all who were possessed of it.
However that might be, my watch was taken from me; but our peace
was made, and I was conducted back to the room where I had been
examined. The magistrate then made me another speech, whereon I
was taken to a building hard by, which I soon discovered to be the
common prison of the town, but in which an apartment was assigned
me separate from the other prisoners. The room contained a bed,
table, and chairs, also a fireplace and a washing-stand. There was
another door, which opened on to a balcony, with a flight of steps
descending into a walled garden of some size. The man who
conducted me into this room made signs to me that I might go down
and walk in the garden whenever I pleased, and intimated that I
should shortly have something brought me to eat. I was allowed to
retain my blankets, and the few things which I had wrapped inside
them, but it was plain that I was to consider myself a prisoner--
for how long a period I could not by any means determine. He then
left me alone.
CHAPTER VIII: IN PRISON
And now for the first time my courage completely failed me. It is
enough to say that I was penniless, and a prisoner in a foreign
country, where I had no friend, nor any knowledge of the customs or
language of the people. I was at the mercy of men with whom I had
little in common. And yet, engrossed as I was with my extremely
difficult and doubtful position, I could not help feeling deeply
interested in the people among whom I had fallen. What was the
meaning of that room full of old machinery which I had just seen,
and of the displeasure with which the magistrate had regarded my
watch? The people had very little machinery now. I had been
struck with this over and over again, though I had not been more
than four-and-twenty hours in the country. They were about as far
advanced as Europeans of the twelfth or thirteenth century;
certainly not more so. And yet they must have had at one time the
fullest knowledge of our own most recent inventions. How could it
have happened that having been once so far in advance they were now
as much behind us? It was evident that it was not from ignorance.
They knew my watch as a watch when they saw it; and the care with
which the broken machines were preserved and ticketed, proved that
they had not lost the recollection of their former civilisation.
The more I thought, the less I could understand it; but at last I
concluded that they must have worked out their mines of coal and
iron, till either none were left, or so few, that the use of these
metals was restricted to the very highest nobility. This was the
only solution I could think of; and, though I afterwards found how
entirely mistaken it was, I felt quite sure then that it must be
the right one.
I had hardly arrived at this opinion for above four or five
minutes, when the door opened, and a young woman made her
appearance with a tray, and a very appetising smell of dinner. I
gazed upon her with admiration as she laid a cloth and set a
savoury-looking dish upon the table. As I beheld her I felt as
though my position was already much ameliorated, for the very sight
of her carried great comfort. She was not more than twenty, rather
above the middle height, active and strong, but yet most delicately
featured; her lips were full and sweet; her eyes were of a deep
hazel, and fringed with long and springing eyelashes; her hair was
neatly braided from off her forehead; her complexion was simply
exquisite; her figure as robust as was consistent with the most
perfect female beauty, yet not more so; her hands and feet might
have served as models to a sculptor. Having set the stew upon the
table, she retired with a glance of pity, whereon (remembering
pity's kinsman) I decided that she should pity me a little more.
She returned with a bottle and a glass, and found me sitting on the
bed with my hands over my face, looking the very picture of abject
misery, and, like all pictures, rather untruthful. As I watched
her, through my fingers, out of the room again, I felt sure that
she was exceedingly sorry for me. Her back being turned, I set to
work and ate my dinner, which was excellent.
She returned in about an hour to take away; and there came with her
a man who had a great bunch of keys at his waist, and whose manner
convinced me that he was the jailor. I afterwards found that he
was father to the beautiful creature who had brought me my dinner.
I am not a much greater hypocrite than other people, and do what I
would, I could not look so very miserable. I had already recovered
from my dejection, and felt in a most genial humour both with my
jailor and his daughter. I thanked them for their attention
towards me; and, though they could not understand, they looked at
one another and laughed and chattered till the old man said
something or other which I suppose was a joke; for the girl laughed
merrily and ran away, leaving her father to take away the dinner
things. Then I had another visitor, who was not so prepossessing,
and who seemed to have a great idea of himself and a small one of
me. He brought a book with him, and pens and paper--all very
English; and yet, neither paper, nor printing, nor binding, nor
pen, nor ink, were quite the same as ours.
He gave me to understand that he was to teach me the language and
that we were to begin at once. This delighted me, both because I
should be more comfortable when I could understand and make myself
understood, and because I supposed that the authorities would
hardly teach me the language if they intended any cruel usage
towards me afterwards. We began at once, and I learnt the names of
everything in the room, and also the numerals and personal
pronouns. I found to my sorrow that the resemblance to European
things, which I had so frequently observed hitherto, did not hold
good in the matter of language; for I could detect no analogy
whatever between this and any tongue of which I have the slightest
knowledge,--a thing which made me think it possible that I might be
learning Hebrew.
I must detail no longer; from this time my days were spent with a
monotony which would have been tedious but for the society of Yram,
the jailor's daughter, who had taken a great fancy for me and
treated me with the utmost kindness. The man came every day to
teach me the language, but my real dictionary and grammar were
Yram; and I consulted them to such purpose that I made the most
extraordinary progress, being able at the end of a month to
understand a great deal of the conversation which I overheard
between Yram and her father. My teacher professed himself well
satisfied, and said he should make a favourable report of me to the
authorities. I then questioned him as to what would probably be
done with me. He told me that my arrival had caused great
excitement throughout the country, and that I was to be detained a
close prisoner until the receipt of advices from the Government.
My having had a watch, he said, was the only damaging feature in
the case. And then, in answer to my asking why this should be so,
he gave me a long story of which with my imperfect knowledge of the
language I could make nothing whatever, except that it was a very
heinous offence, almost as bad (at least, so I thought I understood
him) as having typhus fever. But he said he thought my light hair
would save me.
I was allowed to walk in the garden; there was a high wall so that
I managed to play a sort of hand fives, which prevented my feeling
the bad effects of my confinement, though it was stupid work
playing alone. In the course of time people from the town and
neighbourhood began to pester the jailor to be allowed to see me,
and on receiving handsome fees he let them do so. The people were
good to me; almost too good, for they were inclined to make a lion
of me, which I hated--at least the women were; only they had to
beware of Yram, who was a young lady of a jealous temperament, and
kept a sharp eye both on me and on my lady visitors. However, I
felt so kindly towards her, and was so entirely dependent upon her
for almost all that made my life a blessing and a comfort to me,
that I took good care not to vex her, and we remained excellent
friends. The men were far less inquisitive, and would not, I
believe, have come near me of their own accord; but the women made
them come as escorts. I was delighted with their handsome mien,
and pleasant genial manners.
My food was plain, but always varied and wholesome, and the good
red wine was admirable. I had found a sort of wort in the garden,
which I sweated in heaps and then dried, obtaining thus a
substitute for tobacco; so that what with Yram, the language,
visitors, fives in the garden, smoking, and bed, my time slipped by
more rapidly and pleasantly than might have been expected. I also
made myself a small flute; and being a tolerable player, amused
myself at times with playing snatches from operas, and airs such as
"O where and oh where," and "Home, sweet home." This was of great
advantage to me, for the people of the country were ignorant of the
diatonic scale and could hardly believe their ears on hearing some
of our most common melodies. Often, too, they would make me sing;
and I could at any time make Yram's eyes swim with tears by singing
"Wilkins and his Dinah," "Billy Taylor," "The Ratcatcher's
Daughter," or as much of them as I could remember.
I had one or two discussions with them because I never would sing
on Sunday (of which I kept count in my pocket-book), except chants
and hymn tunes; of these I regret to say that I had forgotten the
words, so that I could only sing the tune. They appeared to have
little or no religious feeling, and to have never so much as heard
of the divine institution of the Sabbath, so they ascribed my
observance of it to a fit of sulkiness, which they remarked as
coming over me upon every seventh day. But they were very
tolerant, and one of them said to me quite kindly that she knew how
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