I strode through the undergrowth that clothed the ridge behind the
house, scarcely heeding whither I went; passed on through the shadow of
a thick cluster of straight-stemmed trees beyond it, and so presently
found myself some way on the other side of the ridge, and descending
towards a streamlet that ran through a narrow valley. I paused and
listened. The distance I had come, or the intervening masses of
thicket, deadened any sound that might be coming from the enclosure.
The air was still. Then with a rustle a rabbit emerged, and went
scampering up the slope before me. I hesitated, and sat down in the
edge of the shade.

The place was a pleasant one. The rivulet was hidden by the luxuriant
vegetation of the banks save at one point, where I caught a triangular
patch of its glittering water. On the farther side I saw through a
bluish haze a tangle of trees and creepers, and above these again the
luminous blue of the sky. Here and there a splash of white or crimson
marked the blooming of some trailing epiphyte. I let my eyes wander
over this scene for a while, and then began to turn over in my mind
again the strange peculiarities of Montgomery’s man. But it was too hot
to think elaborately, and presently I fell into a tranquil state midway
between dozing and waking.

From this I was aroused, after I know not how long, by a rustling
amidst the greenery on the other side of the stream. For a moment I
could see nothing but the waving summits of the ferns and reeds. Then
suddenly upon the bank of the stream appeared something—at first I
could not distinguish what it was. It bowed its round head to the
water, and began to drink. Then I saw it was a man, going on all-fours
like a beast. He was clothed in bluish cloth, and was of a
copper-coloured hue, with black hair. It seemed that grotesque ugliness
was an invariable character of these islanders. I could hear the suck
of the water at his lips as he drank.

I leant forward to see him better, and a piece of lava, detached by my
hand, went pattering down the slope. He looked up guiltily, and his
eyes met mine. Forthwith he scrambled to his feet, and stood wiping his
clumsy hand across his mouth and regarding me. His legs were scarcely
half the length of his body. So, staring one another out of
countenance, we remained for perhaps the space of a minute. Then,
stopping to look back once or twice, he slunk off among the bushes to
the right of me, and I heard the swish of the fronds grow faint in the
distance and die away. Long after he had disappeared, I remained
sitting up staring in the direction of his retreat. My drowsy
tranquillity had gone.

I was startled by a noise behind me, and turning suddenly saw the
flapping white tail of a rabbit vanishing up the slope. I jumped to my
feet. The apparition of this grotesque, half-bestial creature had
suddenly populated the stillness of the afternoon for me. I looked
around me rather nervously, and regretted that I was unarmed. Then I
thought that the man I had just seen had been clothed in bluish cloth,
had not been naked as a savage would have been; and I tried to persuade
myself from that fact that he was after all probably a peaceful
character, that the dull ferocity of his countenance belied him.

Yet I was greatly disturbed at the apparition. I walked to the left
along the slope, turning my head about and peering this way and that
among the straight stems of the trees. Why should a man go on all-fours
and drink with his lips? Presently I heard an animal wailing again, and
taking it to be the puma, I turned about and walked in a direction
diametrically opposite to the sound. This led me down to the stream,
across which I stepped and pushed my way up through the undergrowth
beyond.

I was startled by a great patch of vivid scarlet on the ground, and
going up to it found it to be a peculiar fungus, branched and
corrugated like a foliaceous lichen, but deliquescing into slime at the
touch; and then in the shadow of some luxuriant ferns I came upon an
unpleasant thing,—the dead body of a rabbit covered with shining flies,
but still warm and with the head torn off. I stopped aghast at the
sight of the scattered blood. Here at least was one visitor to the
island disposed of! There were no traces of other violence about it. It
looked as though it had been suddenly snatched up and killed; and as I
stared at the little furry body came the difficulty of how the thing
had been done. The vague dread that had been in my mind since I had
seen the inhuman face of the man at the stream grew distincter as I
stood there. I began to realise the hardihood of my expedition among
these unknown people. The thicket about me became altered to my
imagination. Every shadow became something more than a shadow,—became
an ambush; every rustle became a threat. Invisible things seemed
watching me. I resolved to go back to the enclosure on the beach. I
suddenly turned away and thrust myself violently, possibly even
frantically, through the bushes, anxious to get a clear space about me
again.

I stopped just in time to prevent myself emerging upon an open space.
It was a kind of glade in the forest, made by a fall; seedlings were
already starting up to struggle for the vacant space; and beyond, the
dense growth of stems and twining vines and splashes of fungus and
flowers closed in again. Before me, squatting together upon the fungoid
ruins of a huge fallen tree and still unaware of my approach, were
three grotesque human figures. One was evidently a female; the other
two were men. They were naked, save for swathings of scarlet cloth
about the middle; and their skins were of a dull pinkish-drab colour,
such as I had seen in no savages before. They had fat, heavy, chinless
faces, retreating foreheads, and a scant bristly hair upon their heads.
I never saw such bestial-looking creatures.

They were talking, or at least one of the men was talking to the other
two, and all three had been too closely interested to heed the rustling
of my approach. They swayed their heads and shoulders from side to
side. The speaker’s words came thick and sloppy, and though I could
hear them distinctly I could not distinguish what he said. He seemed to
me to be reciting some complicated gibberish. Presently his
articulation became shriller, and spreading his hands he rose to his
feet. At that the others began to gibber in unison, also rising to
their feet, spreading their hands and swaying their bodies in rhythm
with their chant. I noticed then the abnormal shortness of their legs,
and their lank, clumsy feet. All three began slowly to circle round,
raising and stamping their feet and waving their arms; a kind of tune
crept into their rhythmic recitation, and a refrain,—“Aloola,” or
“Balloola,” it sounded like. Their eyes began to sparkle, and their
ugly faces to brighten, with an expression of strange pleasure. Saliva
dripped from their lipless mouths.

Suddenly, as I watched their grotesque and unaccountable gestures, I
perceived clearly for the first time what it was that had offended me,
what had given me the two inconsistent and conflicting impressions of
utter strangeness and yet of the strangest familiarity. The three
creatures engaged in this mysterious rite were human in shape, and yet
human beings with the strangest air about them of some familiar animal.
Each of these creatures, despite its human form, its rag of clothing,
and the rough humanity of its bodily form, had woven into it—into its
movements, into the expression of its countenance, into its whole
presence—some now irresistible suggestion of a hog, a swinish taint,
the unmistakable mark of the beast.

I stood overcome by this amazing realisation and then the most horrible
questionings came rushing into my mind. They began leaping in the air,
first one and then the other, whooping and grunting. Then one slipped,
and for a moment was on all-fours,—to recover, indeed, forthwith. But
that transitory gleam of the true animalism of these monsters was
enough.

I turned as noiselessly as possible, and becoming every now and then
rigid with the fear of being discovered, as a branch cracked or a leaf
rustled, I pushed back into the bushes. It was long before I grew
bolder, and dared to move freely. My only idea for the moment was to
get away from these foul beings, and I scarcely noticed that I had
emerged upon a faint pathway amidst the trees. Then suddenly traversing
a little glade, I saw with an unpleasant start two clumsy legs among
the trees, walking with noiseless footsteps parallel with my course,
and perhaps thirty yards away from me. The head and upper part of the
body were hidden by a tangle of creeper. I stopped abruptly, hoping the
creature did not see me. The feet stopped as I did. So nervous was I
that I controlled an impulse to headlong flight with the utmost
difficulty. Then looking hard, I distinguished through the interlacing
network the head and body of the brute I had seen drinking. He moved
his head. There was an emerald flash in his eyes as he glanced at me
from the shadow of the trees, a half-luminous colour that vanished as
he turned his head again. He was motionless for a moment, and then with
a noiseless tread began running through the green confusion. In another
moment he had vanished behind some bushes. I could not see him, but I
felt that he had stopped and was watching me again.

What on earth was he,—man or beast? What did he want with me? I had no
weapon, not even a stick. Flight would be madness. At any rate the
Thing, whatever it was, lacked the courage to attack me. Setting my
teeth hard, I walked straight towards him. I was anxious not to show
the fear that seemed chilling my backbone. I pushed through a tangle of
tall white-flowered bushes, and saw him twenty paces beyond, looking
over his shoulder at me and hesitating. I advanced a step or two,
looking steadfastly into his eyes.

“Who are you?” said I.

He tried to meet my gaze. “No!” he said suddenly, and turning went
bounding away from me through the undergrowth. Then he turned and
stared at me again. His eyes shone brightly out of the dusk under the
trees.

My heart was in my mouth; but I felt my only chance was bluff, and
walked steadily towards him. He turned again, and vanished into the
dusk. Once more I thought I caught the glint of his eyes, and that was
all.

For the first time I realised how the lateness of the hour might affect
me. The sun had set some minutes since, the swift dusk of the tropics
was already fading out of the eastern sky, and a pioneer moth fluttered
silently by my head. Unless I would spend the night among the unknown
dangers of the mysterious forest, I must hasten back to the enclosure.
The thought of a return to that pain-haunted refuge was extremely
disagreeable, but still more so was the idea of being overtaken in the
open by darkness and all that darkness might conceal. I gave one more
look into the blue shadows that had swallowed up this odd creature, and
then retraced my way down the slope towards the stream, going as I
judged in the direction from which I had come.

I walked eagerly, my mind confused with many things, and presently
found myself in a level place among scattered trees. The colourless
clearness that comes after the sunset flush was darkling; the blue sky
above grew momentarily deeper, and the little stars one by one pierced
the attenuated light; the interspaces of the trees, the gaps in the
further vegetation, that had been hazy blue in the daylight, grew black
and mysterious. I pushed on. The colour vanished from the world. The
tree-tops rose against the luminous blue sky in inky silhouette, and
all below that outline melted into one formless blackness. Presently
the trees grew thinner, and the shrubby undergrowth more abundant. Then
there was a desolate space covered with a white sand, and then another
expanse of tangled bushes. I did not remember crossing the sand-opening
before. I began to be tormented by a faint rustling upon my right hand.
I thought at first it was fancy, for whenever I stopped there was
silence, save for the evening breeze in the tree-tops. Then when I
turned to hurry on again there was an echo to my footsteps.

I turned away from the thickets, keeping to the more open ground, and
endeavouring by sudden turns now and then to surprise something in the
act of creeping upon me. I saw nothing, and nevertheless my sense of
another presence grew steadily. I increased my pace, and after some
time came to a slight ridge, crossed it, and turned sharply, regarding
it steadfastly from the further side. It came out black and clear-cut
against the darkling sky; and presently a shapeless lump heaved up
momentarily against the sky-line and vanished again. I felt assured now
that my tawny-faced antagonist was stalking me once more; and coupled
with that was another unpleasant realisation, that I had lost my way.

For a time I hurried on hopelessly perplexed, and pursued by that
stealthy approach. Whatever it was, the Thing either lacked the courage
to attack me, or it was waiting to take me at some disadvantage. I kept
studiously to the open. At times I would turn and listen; and presently
I had half persuaded myself that my pursuer had abandoned the chase, or
was a mere creation of my disordered imagination. Then I heard the
sound of the sea. I quickened my footsteps almost into a run, and
immediately there was a stumble in my rear.

I turned suddenly, and stared at the uncertain trees behind me. One
black shadow seemed to leap into another. I listened, rigid, and heard
nothing but the creep of the blood in my ears. I thought that my nerves
were unstrung, and that my imagination was tricking me, and turned
resolutely towards the sound of the sea again.

In a minute or so the trees grew thinner, and I emerged upon a bare,
low headland running out into the sombre water. The night was calm and
clear, and the reflection of the growing multitude of the stars
shivered in the tranquil heaving of the sea. Some way out, the wash
upon an irregular band of reef shone with a pallid light of its own.
Westward I saw the zodiacal light mingling with the yellow brilliance
of the evening star. The coast fell away from me to the east, and
westward it was hidden by the shoulder of the cape. Then I recalled the
fact that Moreau’s beach lay to the west.

A twig snapped behind me, and there was a rustle. I turned, and stood
facing the dark trees. I could see nothing—or else I could see too
much. Every dark form in the dimness had its ominous quality, its
peculiar suggestion of alert watchfulness. So I stood for perhaps a
minute, and then, with an eye to the trees still, turned westward to
cross the headland; and as I moved, one among the lurking shadows moved
to follow me.

My heart beat quickly. Presently the broad sweep of a bay to the
westward became visible, and I halted again. The noiseless shadow
halted a dozen yards from me. A little point of light shone on the
further bend of the curve, and the grey sweep of the sandy beach lay
faint under the starlight. Perhaps two miles away was that little point
of light. To get to the beach I should have to go through the trees
where the shadows lurked, and down a bushy slope.

I could see the Thing rather more distinctly now. It was no animal, for
it stood erect. At that I opened my mouth to speak, and found a hoarse
phlegm choked my voice. I tried again, and shouted, “Who is there?”
There was no answer. I advanced a step. The Thing did not move, only
gathered itself together. My foot struck a stone. That gave me an idea.
Without taking my eyes off the black form before me, I stooped and
picked up this lump of rock; but at my motion the Thing turned abruptly
as a dog might have done, and slunk obliquely into the further
darkness. Then I recalled a schoolboy expedient against big dogs, and
twisted the rock into my handkerchief, and gave this a turn round my
wrist. I heard a movement further off among the shadows, as if the
Thing was in retreat. Then suddenly my tense excitement gave way; I
broke into a profuse perspiration and fell a-trembling, with my
adversary routed and this weapon in my hand.

It was some time before I could summon resolution to go down through
the trees and bushes upon the flank of the headland to the beach. At
last I did it at a run; and as I emerged from the thicket upon the
sand, I heard some other body come crashing after me. At that I
completely lost my head with fear, and began running along the sand.
Forthwith there came the swift patter of soft feet in pursuit. I gave a
wild cry, and redoubled my pace. Some dim, black things about three or
four times the size of rabbits went running or hopping up from the
beach towards the bushes as I passed.

So long as I live, I shall remember the terror of that chase. I ran
near the water’s edge, and heard every now and then the splash of the
feet that gained upon me. Far away, hopelessly far, was the yellow
light. All the night about us was black and still. Splash, splash, came
the pursuing feet, nearer and nearer. I felt my breath going, for I was
quite out of training; it whooped as I drew it, and I felt a pain like
a knife at my side. I perceived the Thing would come up with me long
before I reached the enclosure, and, desperate and sobbing for my
breath, I wheeled round upon it and struck at it as it came up to
me,—struck with all my strength. The stone came out of the sling of the
handkerchief as I did so. As I turned, the Thing, which had been
running on all-fours, rose to its feet, and the missile fell fair on
its left temple. The skull rang loud, and the animal-man blundered into
me, thrust me back with its hands, and went staggering past me to fall
headlong upon the sand with its face in the water; and there it lay
still.

I could not bring myself to approach that black heap. I left it there,
with the water rippling round it, under the still stars, and giving it
a wide berth pursued my way towards the yellow glow of the house; and
presently, with a positive effect of relief, came the pitiful moaning
of the puma, the sound that had originally driven me out to explore
this mysterious island. At that, though I was faint and horribly
fatigued, I gathered together all my strength, and began running again
towards the light. I thought I heard a voice calling me.