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The Red One; and Others



by Jack London









Contents:





The Red One

The Hussy

Like Argus of the Ancient Times

The Princess









STORY:  THE RED ONE









THERE it was!  The abrupt liberation of sound!  As he timed it with

his watch; Bassett likened it to the trump of an archangel。  Walls

of cities; he meditated; might well fall down before so vast and

compelling a summons。  For the thousandth time vainly he tried to

analyse the tone…quality of that enormous peal that dominated the

land far into the strong…holds of the surrounding tribes。  The

mountain gorge which was its source rang to the rising tide of it

until it brimmed over and flooded earth and sky and air。  With the

wantonness of a sick man's fancy; he likened it to the mighty cry

of some Titan of the Elder World vexed with misery or wrath。

Higher and higher it arose; challenging and demanding in such

profounds of volume that it seemed intended for ears beyond the

narrow confines of the solar system。  There was in it; too; the

clamour of protest in that there were no ears to hear and

comprehend its utterance。



… Such the sick man's fancy。  Still he strove to analyse the sound。

Sonorous as thunder was it; mellow as a golden bell; thin and sweet

as a thrummed taut cord of silver … no; it was none of these; nor a

blend of these。  There were no words nor semblances in his

vocabulary and experience with which to describe the totality of

that sound。



Time passed。  Minutes merged into quarters of hours; and quarters

of hours into half…hours; and still the sound persisted; ever

changing from its initial vocal impulse yet never receiving fresh

impulse … fading; dimming; dying as enormously as it had sprung

into being。  It became a confusion of troubled mutterings and

babblings and colossal whisperings。  Slowly it withdrew; sob by

sob; into whatever great bosom had birthed it; until it whimpered

deadly whispers of wrath and as equally seductive whispers of

delight; striving still to be heard; to convey some cosmic secret;

some understanding of infinite import and value。  It dwindled to a

ghost of sound that had lost its menace and promise; and became a

thing that pulsed on in the sick man's consciousness for minutes

after it had ceased。  When he could hear it no longer; Bassett

glanced at his watch。  An hour had elapsed ere that archangel's

trump had subsided into tonal nothingness。



Was this; then; HIS dark tower? … Bassett pondered; remembering his

Browning and gazing at his skeleton…like and fever…wasted hands。

And the fancy made him smile … of Childe Roland bearing a slug…horn

to his lips with an arm as feeble as his was。  Was it months; or

years; he asked himself; since he first heard that mysterious call

on the beach at Ringmanu?  To save himself he could not tell。  The

long sickness had been most long。  In conscious count of time he

knew of months; many of them; but he had no way of estimating the

long intervals of delirium and stupor。  And how fared Captain

Bateman of the blackbirder NARI? he wondered; and had Captain

Bateman's drunken mate died of delirium tremens yet?



From which vain speculations; Bassett turned idly to review all

that had occurred since that day on the beach of Ringmanu when he

first heard the sound and plunged into the jungle after it。  Sagawa

had protested。  He could see him yet; his queer little monkeyish

face eloquent with fear; his back burdened with specimen cases; in

his hands Bassett's butterfly net and naturalist's shot…gun; as he

quavered; in Beche…de…mer English:  〃Me fella too much fright along

bush。  Bad fella boy; too much stop'm along bush。〃



Bassett smiled sadly at the recollection。  The little New Hanover

boy had been frightened; but had proved faithful; following him

without hesitancy into the bush in the quest after the source of

the wonderful sound。  No fire…hollowed tree…trunk; that; throbbing

war through the jungle depths; had been Bassett's conclusion。

Erroneous had been his next conclusion; namely; that the source or

cause could not be more distant than an hour's walk; and that he

would easily be back by mid…afternoon to be picked up by the NARI'S

whale…boat。



〃That big fella noise no good; all the same devil…devil;〃 Sagawa

had adjudged。  And Sagawa had been right。  Had he not had his head

hacked off within the day?  Bassett shuddered。  Without doubt

Sagawa had been eaten as well by the 〃bad fella boys too much〃 that

stopped along the bush。  He could see him; as he had last seen him;

stripped of the shot…gun and all the naturalist's gear of his

master; lying on the narrow trail where he had been decapitated

barely the moment before。  Yes; within a minute the thing had

happened。  Within a minute; looking back; Bassett had seen him

trudging patiently along under his burdens。  Then Bassett's own

trouble had come upon him。  He looked at the cruelly healed stumps

of the first and second fingers of his left hand; then rubbed them

softly into the indentation in the back of his skull。  Quick as had

been the flash of the long handled tomahawk; he had been quick

enough to duck away his head and partially to deflect the stroke

with his up…flung hand。  Two fingers and a hasty scalp…wound had

been the price he paid for his life。  With one barrel of his ten…

gauge shot…gun he had blown the life out of the bushman who had so

nearly got him; with the other barrel he had peppered the bushmen

bending over Sagawa; and had the pleasure of knowing that the major

portion of the charge had gone into the one who leaped away with

Sagawa's head。  Everything had occurred in a flash。  Only himself;

the slain bushman; and what remained of Sagawa; were in the narrow;

wild…pig run of a path。  From the dark jungle on either side came

no rustle of movement or sound of life。  And he had suffered

distinct and dreadful shock。  For the first time in his life he had

killed a human being; and he knew nausea as he contemplated the

mess of his handiwork。



Then had begun the chase。  He retreated up the pig…run before his

hunters; who were between him and the beach。  How many there were;

he could not guess。  There might have been one; or a hundred; for

aught he saw of them。  That some of them took to the trees and

travelled along through the jungle roof he was certain; but at the

most he never glimpsed more than an occasional flitting of shadows。

No bow…strings twanged that he could hear; but every little while;

whence discharged he knew not; tiny arrows whispered past him or

struck tree…boles and fluttered to the ground beside him。  They

were bone…tipped and feather shafted; and the feathers; torn from

the breasts of humming…birds; iridesced like jewels。



Once … and now; after the long lapse of time; he chuckled gleefully

at the recollection … he had detected a shadow above him that came

to instant rest as he turned his gaze upward。  He could make out

nothing; but; deciding to chance it; had fired at it a heavy charge

of number five shot。  Squalling like an infuriated cat; the shadow

crashed down through tree…ferns and orchids and thudded upon the

earth at his feet; and; still squalling its rage and pain; had sunk

its human teeth into the ankle of his stout tramping boot。  He; on

the other hand; was not idle; and with his free foot had done what

reduced the squalling to silence。  So inured to savagery has

Bassett since become; that he chuckled again with the glee of the

recollection。



What a night had followed!  Small wonder that he had accumulated

such a virulence and variety of fevers; he thought; as he recalled

that sleepless night of torment; when the throb of his wounds was

as nothing compared with the myriad stings of the mosquitoes。

There had been no escaping them; and he had not dared to light a

fire。  They had literally pumped his body full of poison; so that;

with the coming of day; eyes swollen almost shut; he had stumbled

blindly on; not caring much when his head should be hacked off and

his carcass started on the way of Sagawa's to the cooking fire。

Twenty…four hours had made a wreck of him … of mind as well as

body。  He had scarcely retained his wits at all; so maddened was he

by the tremendous inoculation of poison he had received。  Several

times he fired his shot…gun with effect into the shadows that

dogged him。  Stinging day insects and gnats added to his torment;

while his bloody wounds attracted hosts of loathsome flies that

clung sluggishly to his flesh and had to be brushed off and crushed

off。



Once; in that day; he heard again the wonderful sound; seemingly

more distant; but rising imperiously above the nearer war…drums in

the bush。  Right there was where he had made his mistake。  Thinking

that he had passed beyond it and that; therefore; it was between

him and the beach of Ringmanu; he had worked back toward it when in

reality he was penetrating deepe

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