Conrad,Heart of Darkness

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HEART OF DARKNESS

By Joseph Conrad

Contents

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II

III

I The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a futter o

the sails, and was at rest. The food had made, the wind was nearly calm,

and being bound down the river, the only thing or it was to come to andwait or the turn o the tide.

The sea-reach o the Thames stretched beore us like the beginningo an interminable waterway. In the ong the sea and the sky werewelded together without a joint, and in the luminous sace the tannedsails o the barges driting u with the tide seemed to stand still in redclusters o canvas sharly eaked, with gleams o varnished srits. ! ha"erested on the low shores that ran out to sea in vanishing fatness. The airwas dark above #ravesend, and arther back still seemed condensed intoa mournul gloom, brooding motionless over the biggest, and the greatest,town on earth.

The $irector o %omanies was our catain and our host. &e oura'ectionately watched his back as he stood in the bows looking toseaward. (n the whole river there was nothing that looked hal sonautical. )e resembled a ilot, which to a seaman is trustworthinessersoni*ed. It was dicult to reali"e his work was not out there in theluminous estuary, but behind him, within the brooding gloom.

+etween us there was, as I have already said somewhere, the bondo the sea. +esides holding our hearts together through long eriods o searation, it had the e'ect o making us tolerant o each others yarnsand even convictions. The awyerthe best o old ellowshad, because

o his many years and many virtues, the only cushion on deck, and waslying on the only rug. The !ccountant had brought out already a bo/ o

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dominoes, and was toying architecturally with the bones. 0arlow satcross-legged right at, leaning against the mi""en-mast. )e had sunkencheeks, a yellow comle/ion, a straight back, an ascetic asect, and, withhis arms droed, the alms o hands outwards, resembled an idol. Thedirector, satis*ed the anchor had good hold, made his way at and sat

down amongst us. &e e/changed a ew words la"ily. !terwards there wassilence on board the yacht. 1or some reason or other we did not beginthat game o dominoes. &e elt meditative, and *t or nothing but lacidstaring. The day was ending in a serenity o still and e/2uisite brilliance. The water shone aci*cally3 the sky, without a seck, was a benignimmensity o unstained light3 the very mist on the 4sse/ marsh was like agau"y and radiant abric, hung rom the wooded rises inland, and draingthe low shores in diahanous olds. (nly the gloom to the west, broodingover the uer reaches, became more sombre every minute, as i angeredby the aroach o the sun.

!nd at last, in its curved and imercetible all, the sun sank low,and rom glowing white changed to a dull red without rays and withoutheat, as i about to go out suddenly, stricken to death by the touch o thatgloom brooding over a crowd o men.

1orthwith a change came over the waters, and the serenity becameless brilliant but more roound. The old river in its broad reach restedunru5ed at the decline o day, ater ages o good service done to the racethat eoled its banks, sread out in the tran2uil dignity o a waterwayleading to the uttermost ends o the earth. &e looked at the venerablestream not in the vivid fush o a short day that comes and dearts orever, but in the august light o abiding memories. !nd indeed nothing is

easier or a man who has, as the hrase goes, 6ollowed the sea6 withreverence and a'ection, that to evoke the great sirit o the ast uon thelower reaches o the Thames. The tidal current runs to and ro in itsunceasing service, crowded with memories o men and shis it had borneto the rest o home or to the battles o the sea. It had known and servedall the men o whom the nation is roud, rom 7ir 1rancis $rake to 7ir 8ohn1ranklin, knights all, titled and untitledthe great knights-errant o thesea. It had borne all the shis whose names are like jewels fashing in thenight o time, rom the Golden Hind returning with her rotund fanks ull o treasure, to be visited by the 9ueens )ighness and thus ass out o thegigantic tale, to the Erebus and Terror , bound on other con2uestsand

that never returned. It had known the shis and the men. They had sailedrom $etord, rom #reenwich, rom 4riththe adventurers and thesettlers3 kings shis and the shis o men on %hange3 catains, admirals,the dark 6interloers6 o the 4astern trade, and the commissioned6generals6 o 4ast India feets. )unters or gold or ursuers o ame, theyall had gone out on that stream, bearing the sword, and oten the torch,messengers o the might within the land, bearers o a sark rom thesacred *re. &hat greatness had not foated on the ebb o that river intothe mystery o an unknown earth:... The dreams o men, the seed o commonwealths, the germs o emires.

The sun set3 the dusk ell on the stream, and lights began to aearalong the shore. The %haman light-house, a three-legged thing erect on a



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mud-fat, shone strongly. ights o shis moved in the airwaya great stiro lights going u and going down. !nd arther west on the uer reachesthe lace o the monstrous town was still marked ominously on the sky, abrooding gloom in sunshine, a lurid glare under the stars.

6!nd this also,6 said 0arlow suddenly, 6has been one o the dark

laces o the earth.6)e was the only man o us who still 6ollowed the sea.6 The worst

that could be said o him was that he did not reresent his class. )e was aseaman, but he was a wanderer, too, while most seamen lead, i one mayso e/ress it, a sedentary lie. Their minds are o the stay-at-home order,and their home is always with themthe shi3 and so is their countrythesea. (ne shi is very much like another, and the sea is always the same.In the immutability o their surroundings the oreign shores, the oreignaces, the changing immensity o lie, glide ast, veiled not by a sense o mystery but by a slightly disdainul ignorance3 or there is nothingmysterious to a seaman unless it be the sea itsel, which is the mistress o his e/istence and as inscrutable as $estiny. 1or the rest, ater his hours o work, a casual stroll or a casual sree on shore suces to unold or himthe secret o a whole continent, and generally he *nds the secret notworth knowing. The yarns o seamen have a direct simlicity, the wholemeaning o which lies within the shell o a cracked nut. +ut 0arlow wasnot tyical ;i his roensity to sin yarns be e/ceted<, and to him themeaning o an eisode was not inside like a kernel but outside, enveloingthe tale which brought it out only as a glow brings out a ha"e, in thelikeness o one o these misty halos that sometimes are made visible bythe sectral illumination o moonshine.

)is remark did not seem at all surrising. It was just like 0arlow. Itwas acceted in silence. No one took the trouble to grunt even3 andresently he said, very slow6I was thinking o very old times, when the=omans *rst came here, nineteen hundred years agothe other day ....ight came out o this river sinceyou say >nights? @es3 but it is like arunning bla"e on a lain, like a fash o lightning in the clouds. &e live inthe fickermay it last as long as the old earth kees rolling: +ut darknesswas here yesterday. Imagine the eelings o a commander o a *newhatdye call em?trireme in the 0editerranean, ordered suddenly to thenorth3 run overland across the #auls in a hurry3 ut in charge o one o these crat the legionariesa wonderul lot o handy men they must have

been, tooused to build, aarently by the hundred, in a month or two, i we may believe what we read. Imagine him herethe very end o theworld, a sea the colour o lead, a sky the colour o smoke, a kind o shiabout as rigid as a concertinaand going u this river with stores, ororders, or what you like. 7and-banks, marshes, orests, savages,reciouslittle to eat *t or a civili"ed man, nothing but Thames water to drink. No1alernian wine here, no going ashore. )ere and there a military cam lostin a wilderness, like a needle in a bundle o haycold, og, temests,disease, e/ile, and deathdeath skulking in the air, in the water, in thebush. They must have been dying like fies here. (h, yeshe did it. $id it

very well, too, no doubt, and without thinking much about it either, e/cetaterwards to brag o what he had gone through in his time, erhas. They



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were men enough to ace the darkness. !nd erhas he was cheered bykeeing his eye on a chance o romotion to the feet at =avenna by andby, i he had good riends in =ome and survived the awul climate. (rthink o a decent young citi"en in a togaerhas too much dice, youknowcoming out here in the train o some reect, or ta/-gatherer, or

trader even, to mend his ortunes. and in a swam, march through thewoods, and in some inland ost eel the savagery, the utter savagery, hadclosed round himall that mysterious lie o the wilderness that stirs inthe orest, in the jungles, in the hearts o wild men. Theres no initiationeither into such mysteries. )e has to live in the midst o theincomrehensible, which is also detestable. !nd it has a ascination, too,that goes to work uon him. The ascination o the abominationyouknow, imagine the growing regrets, the longing to escae, the owerlessdisgust, the surrender, the hate.6

)e aused.60ind,6 he began again, liting one arm rom the elbow, the alm o

the hand outwards, so that, with his legs olded beore him, he had theose o a +uddha reaching in 4uroean clothes and without a lotus-fower60ind, none o us would eel e/actly like this. &hat saves us iseciencythe devotion to eciency. +ut these chas were not muchaccount, really. They were no colonists3 their administration was merely as2uee"e, and nothing more, I susect. They were con2uerors, and or thatyou want only brute orcenothing to boast o, when you have it, sinceyour strength is just an accident arising rom the weakness o others. Theygrabbed what they could get or the sake o what was to be got. It was just robbery with violence, aggravated murder on a great scale, and men

going at it blindas is very roer or those who tackle a darkness. Thecon2uest o the earth, which mostly means the taking it away rom thosewho have a di'erent comle/ion or slightly fatter noses than ourselves, isnot a retty thing when you look into it too much. &hat redeems it is theidea only. !n idea at the back o it3 not a sentimental retence but anidea3 and an unsel*sh belie in the ideasomething you can set u, andbow down beore, and o'er a sacri*ce to....6

)e broke o'. 1lames glided in the river, small green fames, redfames, white fames, ursuing, overtaking, joining, crossing each otherthen searating slowly or hastily. The trac o the great city went on inthe deeening night uon the sleeless river. &e looked on, waiting

atientlythere was nothing else to do till the end o the food3 but it wasonly ater a long silence, when he said, in a hesitating voice, 6I suoseyou ellows remember I did once turn resh-water sailor or a bit,6 that weknew we were ated, beore the ebb began to run, to hear about one o 0arlows inconclusive e/eriences.

6I dont want to bother you much with what haened to meersonally,6 he began, showing in this remark the weakness o manytellers o tales who seem so oten unaware o what their audience wouldlike best to hear3 6yet to understand the e'ect o it on me you ought toknow how I got out there, what I saw, how I went u that river to the lace

where I *rst met the oor cha. It was the arthest oint o navigation andthe culminating oint o my e/erience. It seemed somehow to throw a



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kind o light on everything about meand into my thoughts. It wassombre enough, tooand itiulnot e/traordinary in any waynot veryclear either. No, not very clear. !nd yet it seemed to throw a kind o light.

6I had then, as you remember, just returned to ondon ater a lot o Indian (cean, Aaci*c, %hina 7easa regular dose o the 4astsi/ years or

so, and I was loa*ng about, hindering you ellows in your work andinvading your homes, just as though I had got a heavenly mission tocivili"e you. It was very *ne or a time, but ater a bit I did get tired o resting. Then I began to look or a shiI should think the hardest work onearth. +ut the shis wouldnt even look at me. !nd I got tired o thatgame, too.

6Now when I was a little cha I had a assion or mas. I would lookor hours at 7outh !merica, or !rica, or !ustralia, and lose mysel in allthe glories o e/loration. !t that time there were many blank saces onthe earth, and when I saw one that looked articularly inviting on a ma;but they all look that< I would ut my *nger on it and say, &hen I growu I will go there. The North Aole was one o these laces, I remember.&ell, I havent been there yet, and shall not try now. The glamours o'.(ther laces were scattered about the hemisheres. I have been in someo them, and... well, we wont talk about that. +ut there was one yetthebiggest, the most blank, so to seakthat I had a hankering ater.

6True, by this time it was not a blank sace any more. It had got*lled since my boyhood with rivers and lakes and names. It had ceased tobe a blank sace o delightul mysterya white atch or a boy to dreamgloriously over. It had become a lace o darkness. +ut there was in it oneriver esecially, a mighty big river, that you could see on the ma,

resembling an immense snake uncoiled, with its head in the sea, its bodyat rest curving aar over a vast country, and its tail lost in the deths o the land. !nd as I looked at the ma o it in a sho-window, it ascinatedme as a snake would a birda silly little bird. Then I remembered therewas a big concern, a %omany or trade on that river. $ash it all: I thoughtto mysel, they cant trade without using some kind o crat on that lot o resh watersteamboats: &hy shouldnt I try to get charge o one? I wenton along 1leet 7treet, but could not shake o' the idea. The snake hadcharmed me.

6@ou understand it was a %ontinental concern, that Trading society3but I have a lot o relations living on the %ontinent, because its chea and

not so nasty as it looks, they say.6I am sorry to own I began to worry them. This was already a resh

dearture or me. I was not used to get things that way, you know. Ialways went my own road and on my own legs where I had a mind to go. Iwouldnt have believed it o mysel3 but, thenyou seeI elt somehow Imust get there by hook or by crook. 7o I worried them. The men said 0ydear ellow, and did nothing. Thenwould you believe it?I tried thewomen. I, %harlie 0arlow, set the women to workto get a job. )eavens:&ell, you see, the notion drove me. I had an aunt, a dear enthusiasticsoul. 7he wroteB It will be delightul. I am ready to do anything, anything

or you. It is a glorious idea. I know the wie o a very high ersonage inthe !dministration, and also a man who has lots o infuence with, etc.



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7he was determined to make no end o uss to get me aointed skiero a river steamboat, i such was my ancy.

6I got my aointmento course3 and I got it very 2uick. It aearsthe %omany had received news that one o their catains had been killedin a scu5e with the natives. This was my chance, and it made me the

more an/ious to go. It was only months and months aterwards, when Imade the attemt to recover what was let o the body, that I heard theoriginal 2uarrel arose rom a misunderstanding about some hens. @es, twoblack hens. 1resleventhat was the ellows name, a $anethoughthimsel wronged somehow in the bargain, so he went ashore and startedto hammer the chie o the village with a stick. (h, it didnt surrise me inthe least to hear this, and at the same time to be told that 1resleven wasthe gentlest, 2uietest creature that ever walked on two legs. No doubt hewas3 but he had been a coule o years already out there engaged in thenoble cause, you know, and he robably elt the need at last o assertinghis sel-resect in some way. Thereore he whacked the old niggermercilessly, while a big crowd o his eole watched him, thunderstruck,till some manI was told the chies sonin deseration at hearing theold cha yell, made a tentative jab with a sear at the white manand o course it went 2uite easy between the shoulder-blades. Then the wholeoulation cleared into the orest, e/ecting all kinds o calamities tohaen, while, on the other hand, the steamer 1resleven commanded letalso in a bad anic, in charge o the engineer, I believe. !terwardsnobody seemed to trouble much about 1reslevens remains, till I got outand steed into his shoes. I couldnt let it rest, though3 but when anoortunity o'ered at last to meet my redecessor, the grass growing

through his ribs was tall enough to hide his bones. They were all there. The suernatural being had not been touched ater he ell. !nd the villagewas deserted, the huts gaed black, rotting, all askew within the allenenclosures. ! calamity had come to it, sure enough. The eole hadvanished. 0ad terror had scattered them, men, women, and children,through the bush, and they had never returned. &hat became o the hensI dont know either. I should think the cause o rogress got them, anyhow.)owever, through this glorious a'air I got my aointment, beore I hadairly begun to hoe or it.

6I few around like mad to get ready, and beore orty-eight hours Iwas crossing the %hannel to show mysel to my emloyers, and sign the

contract. In a very ew hours I arrived in a city that always makes me thinko a whited seulchre. Arejudice no doubt. I had no diculty in *nding the%omanys oces. It was the biggest thing in the town, and everybody Imet was ull o it. They were going to run an over-sea emire, and makeno end o coin by trade.

6! narrow and deserted street in dee shadow, high houses,innumerable windows with venetian blinds, a dead silence, grasssrouting right and let, immense double doors standing onderously ajar.I slied through one o these cracks, went u a swet and ungarnishedstaircase, as arid as a desert, and oened the *rst door I came to. Two

women, one at and the other slim, sat on straw-bottomed chairs, knittingblack wool. The slim one got u and walked straight at mestill knitting



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with downcast eyesand only just as I began to think o getting out o herway, as you would or a somnambulist, stood still, and looked u. )erdress was as lain as an umbrella-cover, and she turned round without aword and receded me into a waiting-room. I gave my name, and lookedabout. $eal table in the middle, lain chairs all round the walls, on one

end a large shining ma, marked with all the colours o a rainbow. Therewas a vast amount o redgood to see at any time, because one knowsthat some real work is done in there, a deuce o a lot o blue, a littlegreen, smears o orange, and, on the 4ast %oast, a urle atch, to showwhere the jolly ioneers o rogress drink the jolly lager-beer. )owever, Iwasnt going into any o these. I was going into the yellow. $ead in thecentre. !nd the river was thereascinatingdeadlylike a snake. (ugh:! door oened, ya white-haired secretarial head, but wearing acomassionate e/ression, aeared, and a skinny ore*nger beckonedme into the sanctuary. Its light was dim, and a heavy writing-desks2uatted in the middle. 1rom behind that structure came out animression o ale lumness in a rock-coat. The great man himsel. )ewas *ve eet si/, I should judge, and had his gri on the handle-end o ever so many millions. )e shook hands, I ancy, murmured vaguely, wassatis*ed with my 1rench. Bon Voyage.

6In about orty-*ve seconds I ound mysel again in the waiting-roomwith the comassionate secretary, who, ull o desolation and symathy,made me sign some document. I believe I undertook amongst other thingsnot to disclose any trade secrets. &ell, I am not going to.

6I began to eel slightly uneasy. @ou know I am not used to suchceremonies, and there was something ominous in the atmoshere. It was

just as though I had been let into some consiracyI dont knowsomething not 2uite right3 and I was glad to get out. In the outer room thetwo women knitted black wool everishly. Aeole were arriving, and theyounger one was walking back and orth introducing them. The old onesat on her chair. )er fat cloth sliers were roed u on a oot-warmer,and a cat reosed on her la. 7he wore a starched white a'air on herhead, had a wart on one cheek, and silver-rimmed sectacles hung on theti o her nose. 7he glanced at me above the glasses. The swit andindi'erent lacidity o that look troubled me. Two youths with oolish andcheery countenances were being iloted over, and she threw at them thesame 2uick glance o unconcerned wisdom. 7he seemed to know all about

them and about me, too. !n eerie eeling came over me. 7he seemeduncanny and ateul. (ten ar away there I thought o these two, guardingthe door o $arkness, knitting black wool as or a warm all, oneintroducing, introducing continuously to the unknown, the otherscrutini"ing the cheery and oolish aces with unconcerned old eyes. Ave!(ld knitter o black wool. Morituri te salutant . Not many o those shelooked at ever saw her againnot hal, by a long way.

6There was yet a visit to the doctor. ! simle ormality, assured methe secretary, with an air o taking an immense art in all my sorrows.!ccordingly a young cha wearing his hat over the let eyebrow, some

clerk I suosethere must have been clerks in the business, though thehouse was as still as a house in a city o the deadcame rom somewhere



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u-stairs, and led me orth. )e was shabby and careless, with inkstains onthe sleeves o his jacket, and his cravat was large and billowy, under achin shaed like the toe o an old boot. It was a little too early or thedoctor, so I roosed a drink, and thereuon he develoed a vein o joviality. !s we sat over our vermouths he glori*ed the %omanys

business, and by and by I e/ressed casually my surrise at him not goingout there. )e became very cool and collected all at once. I am not such aool as I look, 2uoth Alato to his disciles, he said sententiously, emtiedhis glass with great resolution, and we rose.

6The old doctor elt my ulse, evidently thinking o something elsethe while. #ood, good or there, he mumbled, and then with a certaineagerness asked me whether I would let him measure my head. =athersurrised, I said @es, when he roduced a thing like caliers and got thedimensions back and ront and every way, taking notes careully. )e wasan unshaven little man in a threadbare coat like a gaberdine, with his eetin sliers, and I thought him a harmless ool. I always ask leave, in theinterests o science, to measure the crania o those going out there, hesaid. !nd when they come back, too? I asked. (h, I never see them, heremarked3 and, moreover, the changes take lace inside, you know. )esmiled, as i at some 2uiet joke. 7o you are going out there. 1amous.Interesting, too. )e gave me a searching glance, and made another note.4ver any madness in your amily? he asked, in a matter-o-act tone. I eltvery annoyed. Is that 2uestion in the interests o science, too? It wouldbe, he said, without taking notice o my irritation, interesting or scienceto watch the mental changes o individuals, on the sot, but... !re you analienist? I interruted. 4very doctor should bea little, answered that

original, imerturbably. I have a little theory which you messieurs who goout there must hel me to rove. This is my share in the advantages mycountry shall rea rom the ossession o such a magni*cent deendency. The mere wealth I leave to others. Aardon my 2uestions, but you are the*rst 4nglishman coming under my observation... I hastened to assure himI was not in the least tyical. I I were, said I, I wouldnt be talking likethis with you. &hat you say is rather roound, and robably erroneous,he said, with a laugh. !void irritation more than e/osure to the sun. Adieu. )ow do you 4nglish say, eh? #ood-bye. !h: #ood-bye. Adieu. In thetroics one must beore everything kee calm.... )e lited a warningore*nger.... Du calme, du calme.

6(ne thing more remained to dosay good-bye to my e/cellentaunt. I ound her triumhant. I had a cu o teathe last decent cu o teaor many daysand in a room that most soothingly looked just as youwould e/ect a ladys drawing-room to look, we had a long 2uiet chat bythe *reside. In the course o these con*dences it became 2uite lain tome I had been reresented to the wie o the high dignitary, and goodnessknows to how many more eole besides, as an e/cetional and gitedcreaturea iece o good ortune or the %omanya man you dont gethold o every day. #ood heavens: and I was going to take charge o a two-enny-hal-enny river-steamboat with a enny whistle attached: It

aeared, however, I was also one o the &orkers, with a caitalyouknow. 7omething like an emissary o light, something like a lower sort o



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aostle. There had been a lot o such rot let loose in rint and talk justabout that time, and the e/cellent woman, living right in the rush o allthat humbug, got carried o' her eet. 7he talked about weaning thoseignorant millions rom their horrid ways, till, uon my word, she made me2uite uncomortable. I ventured to hint that the %omany was run or

ro*t.6@ou orget, dear %harlie, that the labourer is worthy o his hire, she

said, brightly. Its 2ueer how out o touch with truth women are. They livein a world o their own, and there has never been anything like it, andnever can be. It is too beautiul altogether, and i they were to set it u itwould go to ieces beore the *rst sunset. 7ome conounded act we menhave been living contentedly with ever since the day o creation wouldstart u and knock the whole thing over.

6!ter this I got embraced, told to wear fannel, be sure to writeoten, and so onand I let. In the streetI dont know whya 2ueereeling came to me that I was an imoster. (dd thing that I, who used toclear out or any art o the world at twenty-our hours notice, with lessthought than most men give to the crossing o a street, had a momentIwont say o hesitation, but o startled ause, beore this commonlacea'air. The best way I can e/lain it to you is by saying that, or a secondor two, I elt as though, instead o going to the centre o a continent, Iwere about to set o' or the centre o the earth.

6I let in a 1rench steamer, and she called in every blamed ort theyhave out there, or, as ar as I could see, the sole urose o landingsoldiers and custom-house ocers. I watched the coast. &atching a coastas it slis by the shi is like thinking about an enigma. There it is beore

yousmiling, rowning, inviting, grand, mean, insiid, or savage, andalways mute with an air o whisering, %ome and *nd out. This one wasalmost eatureless, as i still in the making, with an asect o monotonousgrimness. The edge o a colossal jungle, so dark-green as to be almostblack, ringed with white sur, ran straight, like a ruled line, ar, ar awayalong a blue sea whose glitter was blurred by a creeing mist. The sunwas *erce, the land seemed to glisten and dri with steam. )ere andthere greyish-whitish secks showed u clustered inside the white sur,with a fag fying above them erhas. 7ettlements some centuries old,and still no bigger than inheads on the untouched e/anse o theirbackground. &e ounded along, stoed, landed soldiers3 went on, landed

custom-house clerks to levy toll in what looked like a #od-orsakenwilderness, with a tin shed and a fag-ole lost in it3 landed more soldiersto take care o the custom-house clerks, resumably. 7ome, I heard, gotdrowned in the sur3 but whether they did or not, nobody seemedarticularly to care. They were just fung out there, and on we went. 4veryday the coast looked the same, as though we had not moved3 but weassed various lacestrading laceswith names like #ran +assam,ittle Aoo3 names that seemed to belong to some sordid arce acted inront o a sinister back-cloth. The idleness o a assenger, my isolationamongst all these men with whom I had no oint o contact, the oily and

languid sea, the uniorm sombreness o the coast, seemed to kee meaway rom the truth o things, within the toil o a mournul and senseless



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delusion. The voice o the sur heard now and then was a ositiveleasure, like the seech o a brother. It was something natural, that hadits reason, that had a meaning. Now and then a boat rom the shore gaveone a momentary contact with reality. It was addled by black ellows. @oucould see rom aar the white o their eyeballs glistening. They shouted,

sang3 their bodies streamed with ersiration3 they had aces likegrotes2ue masksthese chas3 but they had bone, muscle, a wild vitality,an intense energy o movement, that was as natural and true as the sur along their coast. They wanted no e/cuse or being there. They were agreat comort to look at. 1or a time I would eel I belonged still to a worldo straightorward acts3 but the eeling would not last long. 7omethingwould turn u to scare it away. (nce, I remember, we came uon a man-o-war anchored o' the coast. There wasnt even a shed there, and shewas shelling the bush. It aears the 1rench had one o their wars goingon thereabouts. )er ensign droed lim like a rag3 the mu""les o thelong si/-inch guns stuck out all over the low hull3 the greasy, slimy swellswung her u la"ily and let her down, swaying her thin masts. In theemty immensity o earth, sky, and water, there she was,incomrehensible, *ring into a continent. Ao, would go one o the si/-inchguns3 a small fame would dart and vanish, a little white smoke woulddisaear, a tiny rojectile would give a eeble screechand nothinghaened. Nothing could haen. There was a touch o insanity in theroceeding, a sense o lugubrious drollery in the sight3 and it was notdissiated by somebody on board assuring me earnestly there was acam o nativeshe called them enemies:hidden out o sightsomewhere.

6&e gave her her letters ;I heard the men in that lonely shi weredying o ever at the rate o three a day< and went on. &e called at somemore laces with arcical names, where the merry dance o death andtrade goes on in a still and earthy atmoshere as o an overheatedcatacomb3 all along the ormless coast bordered by dangerous sur, as i Nature hersel had tried to ward o' intruders3 in and out o rivers, streamso death in lie, whose banks were rotting into mud, whose waters,thickened into slime, invaded the contorted mangroves, that seemed towrithe at us in the e/tremity o an imotent desair. Nowhere did we stolong enough to get a articulari"ed imression, but the general sense o vague and oressive wonder grew uon me. It was like a weary

ilgrimage amongst hints or nightmares.6It was uward o thirty days beore I saw the mouth o the big river.

&e anchored o' the seat o the government. +ut my work would not begintill some two hundred miles arther on. 7o as soon as I could I made astart or a lace thirty miles higher u.

6I had my assage on a little sea-going steamer. )er catain was a7wede, and knowing me or a seaman, invited me on the bridge. )e was ayoung man, lean, air, and morose, with lanky hair and a shu5ing gait. !swe let the miserable little whar, he tossed his head contemtuously atthe shore. +een living there? he asked. I said, @es. 1ine lot these

government chasare they not? he went on, seaking 4nglish withgreat recision and considerable bitterness. It is unny what some eole



11

will do or a ew rancs a month. I wonder what becomes o that kind whenit goes ucountry? I said to him I e/ected to see that soon. 7o-o-o: hee/claimed. )e shu5ed athwart, keeing one eye ahead vigilantly. $ontbe too sure, he continued. The other day I took u a man who hangedhimsel on the road. )e was a 7wede, too. )anged himsel: &hy, in #ods

name? I cried. )e ket on looking out watchully. &ho knows? The suntoo much or him, or the country erhas.

6!t last we oened a reach. ! rocky cli' aeared, mounds o turned-u earth by the shore, houses on a hill, others with iron roos,amongst a waste o e/cavations, or hanging to the declivity. ! continuousnoise o the raids above hovered over this scene o inhabiteddevastation. ! lot o eole, mostly black and naked, moved about likeants. ! jetty rojected into the river. ! blinding sunlight drowned all this attimes in a sudden recrudescence o glare. Theres your %omanysstation, said the 7wede, ointing to three wooden barrack-like structureson the rocky sloe. I will send your things u. 1our bo/es did you say? 7o.1arewell.

6I came uon a boiler wallowing in the grass, then ound a athleading u the hill. It turned aside or the boulders, and also or anundersi"ed railway-truck lying there on its back with its wheels in the air.(ne was o'. The thing looked as dead as the carcass o some animal. Icame uon more ieces o decaying machinery, a stack o rusty rails. Tothe let a clum o trees made a shady sot, where dark things seemed tostir eebly. I blinked, the ath was stee. ! horn tooted to the right, and Isaw the black eole run. ! heavy and dull detonation shook the ground,a u' o smoke came out o the cli', and that was all. No change

aeared on the ace o the rock. They were building a railway. The cli' was not in the way or anything3 but this objectless blasting was all thework going on.

6! slight clinking behind me made me turn my head. 7i/ black menadvanced in a *le, toiling u the ath. They walked erect and slow,balancing small baskets ull o earth on their heads, and the clink kettime with their ootstes. +lack rags were wound round their loins, and theshort ends behind waggled to and ro like tails. I could see every rib, the joints o their limbs were like knots in a roe3 each had an iron collar onhis neck, and all were connected together with a chain whose bightsswung between them, rhythmically clinking. !nother reort rom the cli'

made me think suddenly o that shi o war I had seen *ring into acontinent. It was the same kind o ominous voice3 but these men could byno stretch o imagination be called enemies. They were called criminals,and the outraged law, like the bursting shells, had come to them, aninsoluble mystery rom the sea. !ll their meagre breasts anted together,the violently dilated nostrils 2uivered, the eyes stared stonily uhill. Theyassed me within si/ inches, without a glance, with that comlete,deathlike indi'erence o unhay savages. +ehind this raw matter one o the reclaimed, the roduct o the new orces at work, strolleddesondently, carrying a rife by its middle. )e had a uniorm jacket with

one button o', and seeing a white man on the ath, hoisted his weaon tohis shoulder with alacrity. This was simle rudence, white men being so



12

much alike at a distance that he could not tell who I might be. )e wasseedily reassured, and with a large, white, rascally grin, and a glance athis charge, seemed to take me into artnershi in his e/alted trust. !terall, I also was a art o the great cause o these high and just roceedings.

6Instead o going u, I turned and descended to the let. 0y idea

was to let that chain-gang get out o sight beore I climbed the hill. @ouknow I am not articularly tender3 Ive had to strike and to end o'. Ivehad to resist and to attack sometimesthats only one way o resistingwithout counting the e/act cost, according to the demands o such sort o lie as I had blundered into. Ive seen the devil o violence, and the devil o greed, and the devil o hot desire3 but, by all the stars: these were strong,lusty, red-eyed devils, that swayed and drove menmen, I tell you. +ut asI stood on this hillside, I oresaw that in the blinding sunshine o that land Iwould become ac2uainted with a fabby, retending, weak-eyed devil o araacious and itiless olly. )ow insidious he could be, too, I was only to*nd out several months later and a thousand miles arther. 1or a moment Istood aalled, as though by a warning. 1inally I descended the hill,obli2uely, towards the trees I had seen.

6I avoided a vast arti*cial hole somebody had been digging on thesloe, the urose o which I ound it imossible to divine. It wasnt a2uarry or a sandit, anyhow. It was just a hole. It might have beenconnected with the hilanthroic desire o giving the criminals somethingto do. I dont know. Then I nearly ell into a very narrow ravine, almost nomore than a scar in the hillside. I discovered that a lot o imorteddrainage-ies or the settlement had been tumbled in there. Therewasnt one that was not broken. It was a wanton smash-u. !t last I got

under the trees. 0y urose was to stroll into the shade or a moment3 butno sooner within than it seemed to me I had steed into the gloomycircle o some Inerno. The raids were near, and an uninterruted,uniorm, headlong, rushing noise *lled the mournul stillness o the grove,where not a breath stirred, not a lea moved, with a mysterious soundasthough the tearing ace o the launched earth had suddenly becomeaudible.

6+lack shaes crouched, lay, sat between the trees leaning againstthe trunks, clinging to the earth, hal coming out, hal e'aced within thedim light, in all the attitudes o ain, abandonment, and desair. !nothermine on the cli' went o', ollowed by a slight shudder o the soil under

my eet. The work was going on. The work: !nd this was the lace wheresome o the helers had withdrawn to die.

6They were dying slowlyit was very clear. They were not enemies,they were not criminals, they were nothing earthly nownothing but blackshadows o disease and starvation, lying conusedly in the greenishgloom. +rought rom all the recesses o the coast in all the legality o timecontracts, lost in uncongenial surroundings, ed on unamiliar ood, theysickened, became inecient, and were then allowed to crawl away andrest. These moribund shaes were ree as airand nearly as thin. I beganto distinguish the gleam o the eyes under the trees. Then, glancing down,

I saw a ace near my hand. The black bones reclined at ull length withone shoulder against the tree, and slowly the eyelids rose and the sunken



13

eyes looked u at me, enormous and vacant, a kind o blind, white fickerin the deths o the orbs, which died out slowly. The man seemed youngalmost a boybut you know with them its hard to tell. I ound nothingelse to do but to o'er him one o my good 7wedes shis biscuits I had inmy ocket. The *ngers closed slowly on it and heldthere was no other

movement and no other glance. )e had tied a bit o white worsted roundhis neck&hy? &here did he get it? &as it a badgean ornamentacharma roitiatory act? &as there any idea at all connected with it? Itlooked startling round his black neck, this bit o white thread rom beyondthe seas.

6Near the same tree two more bundles o acute angles sat with theirlegs drawn u. (ne, with his chin roed on his knees, stared at nothing,in an intolerable and aalling mannerB his brother hantom rested itsorehead, as i overcome with a great weariness3 and all about otherswere scattered in every ose o contorted collase, as in some icture o amassacre or a estilence. &hile I stood horror-struck, one o thesecreatures rose to his hands and knees, and went o' on all-ours towardsthe river to drink. )e laed out o his hand, then sat u in the sunlight,crossing his shins in ront o him, and ater a time let his woolly head allon his breastbone.

6I didnt want any more loitering in the shade, and I made hastetowards the station. &hen near the buildings I met a white man, in suchan une/ected elegance o get-u that in the *rst moment I took him or asort o vision. I saw a high starched collar, white cu's, a light alaca jacket, snowy trousers, a clean necktie, and varnished boots. No hat. )airarted, brushed, oiled, under a green-lined arasol held in a big white

hand. )e was ama"ing, and had a enholder behind his ear.6I shook hands with this miracle, and I learned he was the

%omanys chie accountant, and that all the book-keeing was done atthis station. )e had come out or a moment, he said, to get a breath o resh air. The e/ression sounded wonderully odd, with its suggestion o sedentary desk-lie. I wouldnt have mentioned the ellow to you at all,only it was rom his lis that I *rst heard the name o the man who is soindissolubly connected with the memories o that time. 0oreover, Iresected the ellow. @es3 I resected his collars, his vast cu's, hisbrushed hair. )is aearance was certainly that o a hairdressers dummy3but in the great demorali"ation o the land he ket u his aearance.

Thats backbone. )is starched collars and got-u shirt-ronts wereachievements o character. )e had been out nearly three years3 and, later,I could not hel asking him how he managed to sort such linen. )e had just the aintest blush, and said modestly, Ive been teaching one o thenative women about the station. It was dicult. 7he had a distaste or thework. Thus this man had verily accomlished something. !nd he wasdevoted to his books, which were in ale-ie order.

64verything else in the station was in a muddleheads, things,buildings. 7trings o dusty niggers with slay eet arrived and dearted3 astream o manuactured goods, rubbishy cottons, beads, and brass-wire

set into the deths o darkness, and in return came a recious trickle o ivory.



14

6I had to wait in the station or ten daysan eternity. I lived in a hutin the yard, but to be out o the chaos I would sometimes get into theaccountants oce. It was built o hori"ontal lanks, and so badly uttogether that, as he bent over his high desk, he was barred rom neck toheels with narrow stris o sunlight. There was no need to oen the big

shutter to see. It was hot there, too3 big fies bu""ed *endishly, and didnot sting, but stabbed. I sat generally on the foor, while, o aultlessaearance ;and even slightly scented<, erching on a high stool, hewrote, he wrote. 7ometimes he stood u or e/ercise. &hen a truckle-bedwith a sick man ;some invalid agent rom ucountry< was ut in there, hee/hibited a gentle annoyance. The groans o this sick erson, he said,distract my attention. !nd without that it is e/tremely dicult to guardagainst clerical errors in this climate.

6(ne day he remarked, without liting his head, In the interior youwill no doubt meet 0r. >urt". (n my asking who 0r. >urt" was, he said hewas a *rst-class agent3 and seeing my disaointment at this inormation,he added slowly, laying down his en, )e is a very remarkable erson.1urther 2uestions elicited rom him that 0r. >urt" was at resent in chargeo a trading-ost, a very imortant one, in the true ivory-country, at thevery bottom o there. 7ends in as much ivory as all the others uttogether... )e began to write again. The sick man was too ill to groan. Thefies bu""ed in a great eace.

67uddenly there was a growing murmur o voices and a greattraming o eet. ! caravan had come in. ! violent babble o uncouthsounds burst out on the other side o the lanks. !ll the carriers wereseaking together, and in the midst o the uroar the lamentable voice o

the chie agent was heard giving it u tearully or the twentieth timethat day.... )e rose slowly. &hat a rightul row, he said. )e crossed theroom gently to look at the sick man, and returning, said to me, )e doesnot hear. &hat: $ead? I asked, startled. No, not yet, he answered, withgreat comosure. Then, alluding with a toss o the head to the tumult inthe station-yard, &hen one has got to make correct entries, one comes tohate those savageshate them to the death. )e remained thoughtul ora moment. &hen you see 0r. >urt" he went on, tell him rom me thateverything herehe glanced at the deck is very satisactory. I dont liketo write to himwith those messengers o ours you never know who mayget hold o your letterat that %entral 7tation. )e stared at me or a

moment with his mild, bulging eyes. (h, he will go ar, very ar, he beganagain. )e will be a somebody in the !dministration beore long. They,abovethe %ouncil in 4uroe, you knowmean him to be.

6)e turned to his work. The noise outside had ceased, and resentlyin going out I stoed at the door. In the steady bu"" o fies thehomeward-bound agent was lying *nished and insensible3 the other, bentover his books, was making correct entries o erectly correcttransactions3 and *ty eet below the doorste I could see the still tree-tos o the grove o death.

6Ne/t day I let that station at last, with a caravan o si/ty men, or a

two-hundred-mile tram.



15

6No use telling you much about that. Aaths, aths, everywhere3 astamed-in network o aths sreading over the emty land, through thelong grass, through burnt grass, through thickets, down and u chillyravines, u and down stony hills abla"e with heat3 and a solitude, asolitude, nobody, not a hut. The oulation had cleared out a long time

ago. &ell, i a lot o mysterious niggers armed with all kinds o earulweaons suddenly took to travelling on the road between $eal and#ravesend, catching the yokels right and let to carry heavy loads orthem, I ancy every arm and cottage thereabouts would get emty verysoon. (nly here the dwellings were gone, too. 7till I assed throughseveral abandoned villages. Theres something athetically childish in theruins o grass walls. $ay ater day, with the stam and shu5e o si/ty airo bare eet behind me, each air under a CD-lb. load. %am, cook, slee,strike cam, march. Now and then a carrier dead in harness, at rest in thelong grass near the ath, with an emty water-gourd and his long sta' lying by his side. ! great silence around and above. Aerhas on some2uiet night the tremor o ar-o' drums, sinking, swelling, a tremor vast,aint3 a sound weird, aealing, suggestive, and wildand erhas with asroound a meaning as the sound o bells in a %hristian country. (nce awhite man in an unbuttoned uniorm, caming on the ath with an armedescort o lank Ean"ibaris, very hositable and estivenot to say drunk.&as looking ater the ukee o the road, he declared. %ant say I saw anyroad or any ukee, unless the body o a middle-aged negro, with a bullet-hole in the orehead, uon which I absolutely stumbled three miles artheron, may be considered as a ermanent imrovement. I had a whitecomanion, too, not a bad cha, but rather too feshy and with the

e/aserating habit o ainting on the hot hillsides, miles away rom theleast bit o shade and water. !nnoying, you know, to hold your own coatlike a arasol over a mans head while he is coming to. I couldnt helasking him once what he meant by coming there at all. To make money,o course. &hat do you think? he said, scornully. Then he got ever, andhad to be carried in a hammock slung under a ole. !s he weighed si/teenstone I had no end o rows with the carriers. They jibbed, ran away,sneaked o' with their loads in the night2uite a mutiny. 7o, one evening,I made a seech in 4nglish with gestures, not one o which was lost to thesi/ty airs o eyes beore me, and the ne/t morning I started thehammock o' in ront all right. !n hour aterwards I came uon the whole

concern wrecked in a bushman, hammock, groans, blankets, horrors. The heavy ole had skinned his oor nose. )e was very an/ious or me tokill somebody, but there wasnt the shadow o a carrier near. Iremembered the old doctorIt would be interesting or science to watchthe mental changes o individuals, on the sot. I elt I was becomingscienti*cally interesting. )owever, all that is to no urose. (n the*teenth day I came in sight o the big river again, and hobbled into the%entral 7tation. It was on a back water surrounded by scrub and orest,with a retty border o smelly mud on one side, and on the three othersenclosed by a cra"y ence o rushes. ! neglected ga was all the gate it

had, and the *rst glance at the lace was enough to let you see the fabbydevil was running that show. &hite men with long staves in their hands



16

aeared languidly rom amongst the buildings, strolling u to take a lookat me, and then retired out o sight somewhere. (ne o them, a stout,e/citable cha with black moustaches, inormed me with great volubilityand many digressions, as soon as I told him who I was, that my steamerwas at the bottom o the river. I was thunderstruck. &hat, how, why? (h,

it was all right. The manager himsel was there. !ll 2uite correct.4verybody had behaved slendidly: slendidly:you must, he said inagitation, go and see the general manager at once. )e is waiting:

6I did not see the real signi*cance o that wreck at once. I ancy Isee it now, but I am not surenot at all. %ertainly the a'air was too stuidwhen I think o itto be altogether natural. 7till... +ut at the moment itresented itsel simly as a conounded nuisance. The steamer was sunk. They had started two days beore in a sudden hurry u the river with themanager on board, in charge o some volunteer skier, and beore theyhad been out three hours they tore the bottom out o her on stones, andshe sank near the south bank. I asked mysel what I was to do there, nowmy boat was lost. !s a matter o act, I had lenty to do in *shing mycommand out o the river. I had to set about it the very ne/t day. That,and the reairs when I brought the ieces to the station, took somemonths.

60y *rst interview with the manager was curious. )e did not ask meto sit down ater my twenty-mile walk that morning. )e was commonlacein comle/ion, in eatures, in manners, and in voice. )e was o middle si"eand o ordinary build. )is eyes, o the usual blue, were erhasremarkably cold, and he certainly could make his glance all on one astrenchant and heavy as an a/e. +ut even at these times the rest o his

erson seemed to disclaim the intention. (therwise there was only aninde*nable, aint e/ression o his lis, something stealthya smilenota smileI remember it, but I cant e/lain. It was unconscious, this smilewas, though just ater he had said something it got intensi*ed or aninstant. It came at the end o his seeches like a seal alied on the wordsto make the meaning o the commonest hrase aear absolutelyinscrutable. )e was a common trader, rom his youth u emloyed inthese artsnothing more. )e was obeyed, yet he insired neither lovenor ear, nor even resect. )e insired uneasiness. That was it:Fneasiness. Not a de*nite mistrustjust uneasinessnothing more. @ouhave no idea how e'ective such a... a... aculty can be. )e had no genius

or organi"ing, or initiative, or or order even. That was evident in suchthings as the delorable state o the station. )e had no learning, and nointelligence. )is osition had come to himwhy? Aerhas because he wasnever ill... )e had served three terms o three years out there... +ecausetriumhant health in the general rout o constitutions is a kind o ower initsel. &hen he went home on leave he rioted on a large scaleomously. 8ack ashorewith a di'erencein e/ternals only. This onecould gather rom his casual talk. )e originated nothing, he could kee theroutine goingthats all. +ut he was great. )e was great by this little thingthat it was imossible to tell what could control such a man. )e never

gave that secret away. Aerhas there was nothing within him. 7uch asusicion made one auseor out there there were no e/ternal checks.



17

(nce when various troical diseases had laid low almost every agent inthe station, he was heard to say, 0en who come out here should have noentrails. )e sealed the utterance with that smile o his, as though it hadbeen a door oening into a darkness he had in his keeing. @ou anciedyou had seen thingsbut the seal was on. &hen annoyed at meal-times

by the constant 2uarrels o the white men about recedence, he orderedan immense round table to be made, or which a secial house had to bebuilt. This was the stations mess-room. &here he sat was the *rst lacethe rest were nowhere. (ne elt this to be his unalterable conviction. )ewas neither civil nor uncivil. )e was 2uiet. )e allowed his boyanovered young negro rom the coastto treat the white men, under hisvery eyes, with rovoking insolence.

6)e began to seak as soon as he saw me. I had been very long onthe road. )e could not wait. )ad to start without me. The u-river stationshad to be relieved. There had been so many delays already that he did notknow who was dead and who was alive, and how they got onand so on,and so on. )e aid no attention to my e/lanations, and, laying with astick o sealing-wa/, reeated several times that the situation was verygrave, very grave. There were rumours that a very imortant station wasin jeoardy, and its chie, 0r. >urt", was ill. )oed it was not true. 0r.>urt" was... I elt weary and irritable. )ang >urt", I thought. I interrutedhim by saying I had heard o 0r. >urt" on the coast. !h: 7o they talk o him down there, he murmured to himsel. Then he began again, assuringme 0r. >urt" was the best agent he had, an e/cetional man, o thegreatest imortance to the %omany3 thereore I could understand hisan/iety. )e was, he said, very, very uneasy. %ertainly he *dgeted on his

chair a good deal, e/claimed, !h, 0r. >urt": broke the stick o sealing-wa/ and seemed dumounded by the accident. Ne/t thing he wanted toknow how long it would take to... I interruted him again. +eing hungry,you know, and ket on my eet too. I was getting savage. )ow can I tell? Isaid. I havent even seen the wreck yetsome months, no doubt. !ll thistalk seemed to me so utile. 7ome months, he said. &ell, let us say threemonths beore we can make a start. @es. That ought to do the a'air. Ifung out o his hut ;he lived all alone in a clay hut with a sort o verandah<muttering to mysel my oinion o him. )e was a chattering idiot.!terwards I took it back when it was borne in uon me startlingly withwhat e/treme nicety he had estimated the time re2uisite or the a'air.

6I went to work the ne/t day, turning, so to seak, my back on thatstation. In that way only it seemed to me I could kee my hold on theredeeming acts o lie. 7till, one must look about sometimes3 and then Isaw this station, these men strolling aimlessly about in the sunshine o theyard. I asked mysel sometimes what it all meant. They wandered hereand there with their absurd long staves in their hands, like a lot o aithless ilgrims bewitched inside a rotten ence. The word ivory rang inthe air, was whisered, was sighed. @ou would think they were raying toit. ! taint o imbecile raacity blew through it all, like a whi' rom somecorse. +y 8ove: Ive never seen anything so unreal in my lie. !nd outside,

the silent wilderness surrounding this cleared seck on the earth struck



18

me as something great and invincible, like evil or truth, waiting atientlyor the assing away o this antastic invasion.

6(h, these months: &ell, never mind. Garious things haened. (neevening a grass shed ull o calico, cotton rints, beads, and I dont knowwhat else, burst into a bla"e so suddenly that you would have thought the

earth had oened to let an avenging *re consume all that trash. I wassmoking my ie 2uietly by my dismantled steamer, and saw them allcutting caers in the light, with their arms lited high, when the stout manwith moustaches came tearing down to the river, a tin ail in his hand,assured me that everybody was behaving slendidly, slendidly, diedabout a 2uart o water and tore back again. I noticed there was a hole inthe bottom o his ail.

6I strolled u. There was no hurry. @ou see the thing had gone o' likea bo/ o matches. It had been hoeless rom the very *rst. The fame hadleaed high, driven everybody back, lighted u everythingandcollased. The shed was already a hea o embers glowing *ercely. !nigger was being beaten near by. They said he had caused the *re insome way3 be that as it may, he was screeching most horribly. I saw him,later, or several days, sitting in a bit o shade looking very sick and tryingto recover himsel3 aterwards he arose and went outand the wildernesswithout a sound took him into its bosom again. !s I aroached the glowrom the dark I ound mysel at the back o two men, talking. I heard thename o >urt" ronounced, then the words, take advantage o thisunortunate accident. (ne o the men was the manager. I wished him agood evening. $id you ever see anything like iteh? it is incredible, hesaid, and walked o'. The other man remained. )e was a *rst-class agent,

young, gentlemanly, a bit reserved, with a orked little beard and ahooked nose. )e was stand-osh with the other agents, and they on theirside said he was the managers sy uon them. !s to me, I had hardlyever soken to him beore. &e got into talk, and by and by we strolledaway rom the hissing ruins. Then he asked me to his room, which was inthe main building o the station. )e struck a match, and I erceived thatthis young aristocrat had not only a silver-mounted dressing-case but alsoa whole candle all to himsel. 8ust at that time the manager was the onlyman suosed to have any right to candles. Native mats covered the claywalls3 a collection o sears, assegais, shields, knives was hung u introhies. The business intrusted to this ellow was the making o bricks

so I had been inormed3 but there wasnt a ragment o a brick anywherein the station, and he had been there more than a yearwaiting. It seemshe could not make bricks without something, I dont know whatstrawmaybe. !nyway, it could not be ound there and as it was not likely to besent rom 4uroe, it did not aear clear to me what he was waiting or.!n act o secial creation erhas. )owever, they were all waitingall thesi/teen or twenty ilgrims o themor something3 and uon my word itdid not seem an uncongenial occuation, rom the way they took it,though the only thing that ever came to them was diseaseas ar as Icould see. They beguiled the time by back-biting and intriguing against

each other in a oolish kind o way. There was an air o lotting about thatstation, but nothing came o it, o course. It was as unreal as everything



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elseas the hilanthroic retence o the whole concern, as their talk, astheir government, as their show o work. The only real eeling was a desireto get aointed to a trading-ost where ivory was to be had, so that theycould earn ercentages. They intrigued and slandered and hated eachother only on that accountbut as to e'ectually liting a little *ngeroh,

no. +y heavens: there is something ater all in the world allowing one manto steal a horse while another must not look at a halter. 7teal a horsestraight out. Gery well. )e has done it. Aerhas he can ride. +ut there is away o looking at a halter that would rovoke the most charitable o saintsinto a kick.

6I had no idea why he wanted to be sociable, but as we chatted inthere it suddenly occurred to me the ellow was trying to get at somethingin act, uming me. )e alluded constantly to 4uroe, to the eole Iwas suosed to know thereutting leading 2uestions as to myac2uaintances in the seulchral city, and so on. )is little eyes glittered likemica discswith curiositythough he tried to kee u a bit o suerciliousness. !t *rst I was astonished, but very soon I became awullycurious to see what he would *nd out rom me. I couldnt ossibly imaginewhat I had in me to make it worth his while. It was very retty to see howhe ba5ed himsel, or in truth my body was ull only o chills, and myhead had nothing in it but that wretched steamboat business. It wasevident he took me or a erectly shameless revaricator. !t last he gotangry, and, to conceal a movement o urious annoyance, he yawned. Irose. Then I noticed a small sketch in oils, on a anel, reresenting awoman, draed and blindolded, carrying a lighted torch. The backgroundwas sombrealmost black. The movement o the woman was stately, and

the e'ect o the torchlight on the ace was sinister.6It arrested me, and he stood by civilly, holding an emty hal-int

chamagne bottle ;medical comorts< with the candle stuck in it. To my2uestion he said 0r. >urt" had ainted thisin this very station more thana year agowhile waiting or means to go to his trading ost. Tell me,ray, said I, who is this 0r. >urt"?

6The chie o the Inner 7tation, he answered in a short tone, lookingaway. 0uch obliged, I said, laughing. !nd you are the brickmaker o the%entral 7tation. 4very one knows that. )e was silent or a while. )e is arodigy, he said at last. )e is an emissary o ity and science androgress, and devil knows what else. &e want, he began to declaim

suddenly, or the guidance o the cause intrusted to us by 4uroe, so toseak, higher intelligence, wide symathies, a singleness o urose.&ho says that? I asked. ots o them, he relied. 7ome even write that3and so he comes here, a secial being, as you ought to know. &hy oughtI to know? I interruted, really surrised. )e aid no attention. @es. Todayhe is chie o the best station, ne/t year he will be assistant-manager, twoyears more and... but I dare-say you know what he will be in two yearstime. @ou are o the new gangthe gang o virtue. The same eole whosent him secially also recommended you. (h, dont say no. Ive my owneyes to trust. ight dawned uon me. 0y dear aunts infuential

ac2uaintances were roducing an une/ected e'ect uon that youngman. I nearly burst into a laugh. $o you read the %omanys con*dential



20

corresondence? I asked. )e hadnt a word to say. It was great un. &hen0r. >urt", I continued, severely, is #eneral 0anager, you wont have theoortunity.

6)e blew the candle out suddenly, and we went outside. The moonhad risen. +lack *gures strolled about listlessly, ouring water on the

glow, whence roceeded a sound o hissing3 steam ascended in themoonlight, the beaten nigger groaned somewhere. &hat a row the brutemakes: said the indeatigable man with the moustaches, aearing nearus. 7erve him right. Transgressionunishmentbang: Aitiless, itiless. Thats the only way. This will revent all confagrations or the uture. I was just telling the manager... )e noticed my comanion, and becamecrestallen all at once. Not in bed yet, he said, with a kind o servileheartiness3 its so natural. )a: $angeragitation. )e vanished. I went onto the riverside, and the other ollowed me. I heard a scathing murmur atmy ear, )ea o mu'sgo to. The ilgrims could be seen in knotsgesticulating, discussing. 7everal had still their staves in their hands. Iverily believe they took these sticks to bed with them. +eyond the encethe orest stood u sectrally in the moonlight, and through that dim stir,through the aint sounds o that lamentable courtyard, the silence o theland went home to ones very heartits mystery, its greatness, theama"ing reality o its concealed lie. The hurt nigger moaned eeblysomewhere near by, and then etched a dee sigh that made me mendmy ace away rom there. I elt a hand introducing itsel under my arm.0y dear sir, said the ellow, I dont want to be misunderstood, andesecially by you, who will see 0r. >urt" long beore I can have thatleasure. I wouldnt like him to get a alse idea o my disosition....

6I let him run on, this papiermache 0ehistoheles, and it seemedto me that i I tried I could oke my ore*nger through him, and would *ndnothing inside but a little loose dirt, maybe. )e, dont you see, had beenlanning to be assistant-manager by and by under the resent man, and Icould see that the coming o that >urt" had uset them both not a little.)e talked reciitately, and I did not try to sto him. I had my shouldersagainst the wreck o my steamer, hauled u on the sloe like a carcass o some big river animal. The smell o mud, o rimeval mud, by 8ove: was inmy nostrils, the high stillness o rimeval orest was beore my eyes3 therewere shiny atches on the black creek. The moon had sread overeverything a thin layer o silverover the rank grass, over the mud, uon

the wall o matted vegetation standing higher than the wall o a temle,over the great river I could see through a sombre ga glittering, glittering,as it fowed broadly by without a murmur. !ll this was great, e/ectant,mute, while the man jabbered about himsel. I wondered whether thestillness on the ace o the immensity looking at us two were meant as anaeal or as a menace. &hat were we who had strayed in here? %ould wehandle that dumb thing, or would it handle us? I elt how big, howconoundedly big, was that thing that couldnt talk, and erhas was dea as well. &hat was in there? I could see a little ivory coming out rom there,and I had heard 0r. >urt" was in there. I had heard enough about it, too

#od knows: @et somehow it didnt bring any image with itno more than i I had been told an angel or a *end was in there. I believed it in the same



21

way one o you might believe there are inhabitants in the lanet 0ars. Iknew once a 7cotch sailmaker who was certain, dead sure, there wereeole in 0ars. I you asked him or some idea how they looked andbehaved, he would get shy and mutter something about walking on all-ours. I you as much as smiled, he wouldthough a man o si/tyo'er

to *ght you. I would not have gone so ar as to *ght or >urt", but I wentor him near enough to a lie. @ou know I hate, detest, and cant bear a lie,not because I am straighter than the rest o us, but simly because itaalls me. There is a taint o death, a favour o mortality in lieswhichis e/actly what I hate and detest in the worldwhat I want to orget. Itmakes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do. Temerament, I suose. &ell, I went near enough to it by letting theyoung ool there believe anything he liked to imagine as to my infuencein 4uroe. I became in an instant as much o a retence as the rest o thebewitched ilgrims. This simly because I had a notion it somehow wouldbe o hel to that >urt" whom at the time I did not seeyou understand.)e was just a word or me. I did not see the man in the name any morethan you do. $o you see him? $o you see the story? $o you see anything?It seems to me I am trying to tell you ya dreammaking a vain attemt,because no relation o a dream can convey the dream-sensation, thatcommingling o absurdity, surrise, and bewilderment in a tremor o struggling revolt, that notion o being catured by the incredible which iso the very essence o dreams....6

)e was silent or a while.6... No, it is imossible3 it is imossible to convey the lie-sensation

o any given eoch o ones e/istencethat which makes its truth, its

meaningits subtle and enetrating essence. It is imossible. &e live, aswe dreamalone....6

)e aused again as i refecting, then addedB6( course in this you ellows see more than I could then. @ou see

me, whom you know....6It had become so itch dark that we listeners could hardly see one

another. 1or a long time already he, sitting aart, had been no more to usthan a voice. There was not a word rom anybody. The others might havebeen aslee, but I was awake. I listened, I listened on the watch or thesentence, or the word, that would give me the clue to the aintuneasiness insired by this narrative that seemed to shae itsel without

human lis in the heavy night-air o the river.6... @esI let him run on,6 0arlow began again, 6and think what he

leased about the owers that were behind me. I did: !nd there wasnothing behind me: There was nothing but that wretched, old, mangledsteamboat I was leaning against, while he talked fuently about thenecessity or every man to get on. !nd when one comes out here, youconceive, it is not to ga"e at the moon. 0r. >urt" was a universal genius,but even a genius would *nd it easier to work with ade2uate toolsintelligent men. )e did not make brickswhy, there was a hysicalimossibility in the wayas I was well aware3 and i he did secretarial

work or the manager, it was because no sensible man rejects wantonlythe con*dence o his sueriors. $id I see it? I saw it. &hat more did I



22

want? &hat I really wanted was rivets, by heaven: =ivets. To get on withthe workto sto the hole. =ivets I wanted. There were cases o themdown at the coastcasesiled uburstslit: @ou kicked a loose rivetat every second ste in that station-yard on the hillside. =ivets had rolledinto the grove o death. @ou could *ll your ockets with rivets or the

trouble o stooing downand there wasnt one rivet to be ound where itwas wanted. &e had lates that would do, but nothing to asten themwith. !nd every week the messenger, a long negro, letter-bag on shoulderand sta' in hand, let our station or the coast. !nd several times a week acoast caravan came in with trade goodsghastly gla"ed calico that madeyou shudder only to look at it, glass beads value about a enny a 2uart,conounded sotted cotton handkerchies. !nd no rivets. Three carrierscould have brought all that was wanted to set that steamboat afoat.

6)e was becoming con*dential now, but I ancy my unresonsiveattitude must have e/aserated him at last, or he judged it necessary toinorm me he eared neither #od nor devil, let alone any mere man. I saidI could see that very well, but what I wanted was a certain 2uantity o rivetsand rivets were what really 0r. >urt" wanted, i he had only knownit. Now letters went to the coast every week.... 0y dear sir, he cried, Iwrite rom dictation. I demanded rivets. There was a wayor anintelligent man. )e changed his manner3 became very cold, and suddenlybegan to talk about a hiootamus3 wondered whether sleeing on boardthe steamer ;I stuck to my salvage night and day< I wasnt disturbed. There was an old hio that had the bad habit o getting out on the bankand roaming at night over the station grounds. The ilgrims used to turnout in a body and emty every rife they could lay hands on at him. 7ome

even had sat u o nights or him. !ll this energy was wasted, though.That animal has a charmed lie, he said3 but you can say this only o brutes in this country. No manyou arehend me?no man here bears acharmed lie. )e stood there or a moment in the moonlight with hisdelicate hooked nose set a little askew, and his mica eyes glitteringwithout a wink, then, with a curt #ood-night, he strode o'. I could see hewas disturbed and considerably u""led, which made me eel morehoeul than I had been or days. It was a great comort to turn rom thatcha to my infuential riend, the battered, twisted, ruined, tin-otsteamboat. I clambered on board. 7he rang under my eet like an emty)untley H Aalmer biscuit-tin kicked along a gutter3 she was nothing so

solid in make, and rather less retty in shae, but I had e/ended enoughhard work on her to make me love her. No infuential riend would haveserved me better. 7he had given me a chance to come out a bitto *ndout what I could do. No, I dont like work. I had rather la"e about and thinko all the *ne things that can be done. I dont like workno man doesbutI like what is in the workthe chance to *nd yoursel. @our own realityoryoursel, not or otherswhat no other man can ever know. They can onlysee the mere show, and never can tell what it really means.

6I was not surrised to see somebody sitting at, on the deck, withhis legs dangling over the mud. @ou see I rather chummed with the ew

mechanics there were in that station, whom the other ilgrims naturallydesisedon account o their imerect manners, I suose. This was the



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oremana boiler-maker by tradea good worker. )e was a lank, bony,yellow-aced man, with big intense eyes. )is asect was worried, and hishead was as bald as the alm o my hand3 but his hair in alling seemed tohave stuck to his chin, and had rosered in the new locality, or his beardhung down to his waist. )e was a widower with si/ young children ;he had

let them in charge o a sister o his to come out there<, and the assion o his lie was igeon-fying. )e was an enthusiast and a connoisseur. )ewould rave about igeons. !ter work hours he used sometimes to comeover rom his hut or a talk about his children and his igeons3 at work,when he had to crawl in the mud under the bottom o the steamboat, hewould tie u that beard o his in a kind o white serviette he brought orthe urose. It had loos to go over his ears. In the evening he could beseen s2uatted on the bank rinsing that wraer in the creek with greatcare, then sreading it solemnly on a bush to dry.

6I slaed him on the back and shouted, &e shall have rivets: )escrambled to his eet e/claiming, No: =ivets: as though he couldntbelieve his ears. Then in a low voice, @ou... eh? I dont know why webehaved like lunatics. I ut my *nger to the side o my nose and noddedmysteriously. #ood or you: he cried, snaed his *ngers above his head,liting one oot. I tried a jig. &e caered on the iron deck. ! rightul clattercame out o that hulk, and the virgin orest on the other bank o the creeksent it back in a thundering roll uon the sleeing station. It must havemade some o the ilgrims sit u in their hovels. ! dark *gure obscuredthe lighted doorway o the managers hut, vanished, then, a second or soater, the doorway itsel vanished, too. &e stoed, and the silence drivenaway by the staming o our eet fowed back again rom the recesses o

the land. The great wall o vegetation, an e/uberant and entangled masso trunks, branches, leaves, boughs, estoons, motionless in themoonlight, was like a rioting invasion o soundless lie, a rolling wave o lants, iled u, crested, ready to tole over the creek, to swee everylittle man o us out o his little e/istence. !nd it moved not. ! deadenedburst o mighty slashes and snorts reached us rom aar, as though anicthyosaurus had been taking a bath o glitter in the great river. !ter all,said the boiler-maker in a reasonable tone, why shouldnt we get therivets? &hy not, indeed: I did not know o any reason why we shouldnt.Theyll come in three weeks, I said con*dently.

6+ut they didnt. Instead o rivets there came an invasion, an

infiction, a visitation. It came in sections during the ne/t three weeks,each section headed by a donkey carrying a white man in new clothes andtan shoes, bowing rom that elevation right and let to the imressedilgrims. ! 2uarrelsome band o ootsore sulky niggers trod on the heels o the donkey3 a lot o tents, cam-stools, tin bo/es, white cases, brownbales would be shot down in the courtyard, and the air o mystery woulddeeen a little over the muddle o the station. 1ive such instalmentscame, with their absurd air o disorderly fight with the loot o innumerableout*t shos and rovision stores, that, one would think, they werelugging, ater a raid, into the wilderness or e2uitable division. It was an

ine/tricable mess o things decent in themselves but that human ollymade look like the soils o thieving.



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6This devoted band called itsel the 4ldorado 4/loring 4/edition,and I believe they were sworn to secrecy. Their talk, however, was the talko sordid buccaneersB it ywas reckless without hardihood, greedy withoutaudacity, and cruel without courage3 there was not an atom o oresight oro serious intention in the whole batch o them, and they did not seem

aware these things are wanted or the work o the world. To tear treasureout o the bowels o the land was their desire, with no more moral uroseat the back o it than there is in burglars breaking into a sae. &ho aidthe e/enses o the noble enterrise I dont know3 but the uncle o ourmanager was leader o that lot.

6In e/terior he resembled a butcher in a oor neighbourhood, andhis eyes had a look o sleey cunning. )e carried his at aunch withostentation on his short legs, and during the time his gang inested thestation soke to no one but his nehew. @ou could see these two roamingabout all day long with their heads close together in an everlastingconab.

6I had given u worrying mysel about the rivets. (nes caacity orthat kind o olly is more limited than you would suose. I said )ang:and let things slide. I had lenty o time or meditation, and now and thenI would give some thought to >urt". I wasnt very interested in him. No.7till, I was curious to see whether this man, who had come out e2uiedwith moral ideas o some sort, would climb to the to ater all and how hewould set about his work when there.6

II6(ne evening as I was lying fat on the deck o my steamboat, I

heard voices aroachingand there were the nehew and the unclestrolling along the bank. I laid my head on my arm again, and had nearlylost mysel in a do"e, when somebody said in my ear, as it wereB I am asharmless as a little child, but I dont like to be dictated to. !m I themanageror am I not? I was ordered to send him there. Its incredible. ...I became aware that the two were standing on the shore alongside theoreart o the steamboat, just below my head. I did not move3 it did notoccur to me to moveB I was sleey. It is unleasant, grunted the uncle.)e has asked the !dministration to be sent there, said the other, with

the idea o showing what he could do3 and I was instructed accordingly.ook at the infuence that man must have. Is it not rightul? They bothagreed it was rightul, then made several bi"arre remarksB 0ake rain and*ne weatherone manthe %ouncilby the nosebits o absurdsentences that got the better o my drowsiness, so that I had retty nearthe whole o my wits about me when the uncle said, The climate may doaway with this diculty or you. Is he alone there? @es, answered themanager3 he sent his assistant down the river with a note to me in thesetermsB 6%lear this oor devil out o the country, and dont bother sendingmore o that sort. I had rather be alone than have the kind o men you can

disose o with me.6 It was more than a year ago. %an you imagine suchimudence: !nything since then? asked the other hoarsely. Ivory,



25

jerked the nehew3 lots o itrime sortlotsmost annoying, rom him.!nd with that? 2uestioned the heavy rumble. Invoice, was the rely*red out, so to seak. Then silence. They had been talking about >urt".

6I was broad awake by this time, but, lying erectly at ease,remained still, having no inducement to change my osition. )ow did that

ivory come all this way? growled the elder man, who seemed very ve/ed. The other e/lained that it had come with a feet o canoes in charge o an4nglish hal-caste clerk >urt" had with him3 that >urt" had aarentlyintended to return himsel, the station being by that time bare o goodsand stores, but ater coming three hundred miles, had suddenly decidedto go back, which he started to do alone in a small dugout with ouraddlers, leaving the hal-caste to continue down the river with the ivory. The two ellows there seemed astounded at anybody attemting such athing. They were at a loss or an ade2uate motive. !s to me, I seemed tosee >urt" or the *rst time. It was a distinct glimseB the dugout, ouraddling savages, and the lone white man turning his back suddenly onthe head2uarters, on relie, on thoughts o homeerhas3 setting hisace towards the deths o the wilderness, towards his emty anddesolate station. I did not know the motive. Aerhas he was just simly a*ne ellow who stuck to his work or its own sake. )is name, youunderstand, had not been ronounced once. )e was that man. The hal-caste, who, as ar as I could see, had conducted a dicult tri with greatrudence and luck, was invariably alluded to as that scoundrel. Thescoundrel had reorted that the man had been very illhad recoveredimerectly.... The two below me moved away then a ew aces, andstrolled back and orth at some little distance. I heardB 0ilitary ost

doctortwo hundred miles2uite alone nowunavoidable delaysninemonthsno newsstrange rumours. They aroached again, just as themanager was saying, No one, as ar as I know, unless a secies o wandering tradera estilential ellow, snaing ivory rom the natives.&ho was it they were talking about now? I gathered in snatches that thiswas some man suosed to be in >urt"s district, and o whom themanager did not arove. &e will not be ree rom unair cometition tillone o these ellows is hanged or an e/amle, he said. %ertainly,grunted the other3 get him hanged: &hy not? !nythinganything can bedone in this country. Thats what I say3 nobody here, you understand,here, can endanger your osition. !nd why? @ou stand the climateyou

outlast them all. The danger is in 4uroe3 but there beore I let I took careto They moved o' and whisered, then their voices rose again. Thee/traordinary series o delays is not my ault. I did my best. The at mansighed. Gery sad. !nd the estierous absurdity o his talk, continued theother3 he bothered me enough when he was here. 64ach station should belike a beacon on the road towards better things, a centre or trade o course, but also or humani"ing, imroving, instructing.6 %onceive youthat ass: !nd he wants to be manager: No, its )ere he got choked bye/cessive indignation, and I lited my head the least bit. I was surrised tosee how near they wereright under me. I could have sat uon their

hats. They were looking on the ground, absorbed in thought. The managerwas switching his leg with a slender twigB his sagacious relative lited his



26

head. @ou have been well since you came out this time? he asked. Theother gave a start. &ho? I? (h: ike a charmlike a charm. +ut the restoh, my goodness: !ll sick. They die so 2uick, too, that I havent the time tosend them out o the countryits incredible: )mm. 8ust so, grunted theuncle. !h: my boy, trust to thisI say, trust to this. I saw him e/tend his

short fier o an arm or a gesture that took in the orest, the creek, themud, the riverseemed to beckon with a dishonouring fourish beore thesunlit ace o the land a treacherous aeal to the lurking death, to thehidden evil, to the roound darkness o its heart. It was so startling that Ileaed to my eet and looked back at the edge o the orest, as though Ihad e/ected an answer o some sort to that black dislay o con*dence. @ou know the oolish notions that come to one sometimes. The highstillness conronted these two *gures with its ominous atience, waitingor the assing away o a antastic invasion.

6They swore aloud togetherout o sheer right, I believethenretending not to know anything o my e/istence, turned back to thestation. The sun was low3 and leaning orward side by side, they seemedto be tugging ainully uhill their two ridiculous shadows o une2uallength, that trailed behind them slowly over the tall grass without bendinga single blade.

6In a ew days the 4ldorado 4/edition went into the atientwilderness, that closed uon it as the sea closes over a diver. ongaterwards the news came that all the donkeys were dead. I know nothingas to the ate o the less valuable animals. They, no doubt, like the rest o us, ound what they deserved. I did not in2uire. I was then rather e/citedat the rosect o meeting >urt" very soon. &hen I say very soon I mean

it comaratively. It was just two months rom the day we let the creekwhen we came to the bank below >urt"s station.

6#oing u that river was like traveling back to the earliestbeginnings o the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the bigtrees were kings. !n emty stream, a great silence, an imenetrableorest. The air was warm, thick, heavy, sluggish. There was no joy in thebrilliance o sunshine. The long stretches o the waterway ran on,deserted, into the gloom o overshadowed distances. (n silvery sand-banks hios and alligators sunned themselves side by side. Thebroadening waters fowed through a mob o wooded islands3 you lost yourway on that river as you would in a desert, and butted all day long against

shoals, trying to *nd the channel, till you thought yoursel bewitched andcut o' or ever rom everything you had known oncesomewherearawayin another e/istence erhas. There were moments when onesast came back to one, as it will sometimes when you have not a momentto sare or yoursel3 but it came in the shae o an unrestul and noisydream, remembered with wonder amongst the overwhelming realities o this strange world o lants, and water, and silence. !nd this stillness o lie did not in the least resemble a eace. It was the stillness o animlacable orce brooding over an inscrutable intention. It looked at youwith a vengeul asect. I got used to it aterwards3 I did not see it any

more3 I had no time. I had to kee guessing at the channel3 I had todiscern, mostly by insiration, the signs o hidden banks3 I watched or



27

sunken stones3 I was learning to cla my teeth smartly beore my heartfew out, when I shaved by a fuke some inernal sly old snag that wouldhave ried the lie out o the tin-ot steamboat and drowned all theilgrims3 I had to kee a lookout or the signs o dead wood we could cutu in the night or ne/t days steaming. &hen you have to attend to things

o that sort, to the mere incidents o the surace, the realitythe reality, Itell youades. The inner truth is hiddenluckily, luckily. +ut I elt it allthe same3 I elt oten its mysterious stillness watching me at my monkeytricks, just as it watches you ellows erorming on your resective tight-roes orwhat is it? hal-a-crown a tumble6

6Try to be civil, 0arlow,6 growled a voice, and I knew there was atleast one listener awake besides mysel.

6I beg your ardon. I orgot the heartache which makes u the resto the rice. !nd indeed what does the rice matter, i the trick be welldone? @ou do your tricks very well. !nd I didnt do badly either, since Imanaged not to sink that steamboat on my *rst tri. Its a wonder to meyet. Imagine a blindolded man set to drive a van over a bad road. Isweated and shivered over that business considerably, I can tell you. !terall, or a seaman, to scrae the bottom o the thing thats suosed tofoat all the time under his care is the unardonable sin. No one may knowo it, but you never orget the thumeh? ! blow on the very heart. @ouremember it, you dream o it, you wake u at night and think o ityearsaterand go hot and cold all over. I dont retend to say that steamboatfoated all the time. 0ore than once she had to wade or a bit, with twentycannibals slashing around and ushing. &e had enlisted some o thesechas on the way or a crew. 1ine ellowscannibalsin their lace. They

were men one could work with, and I am grateul to them. !nd, ater all,they did not eat each other beore my aceB they had brought along arovision o hio-meat which went rotten, and made the mystery o thewilderness stink in my nostrils. Ahoo: I can sni' it now. I had the manageron board and three or our ilgrims with their stavesall comlete.7ometimes we came uon a station close by the bank, clinging to theskirts o the unknown, and the white men rushing out o a tumble-downhovel, with great gestures o joy and surrise and welcome, seemed verystrangehad the aearance o being held there cative by a sell. Theword ivory would ring in the air or a whileand on we went again into thesilence, along emty reaches, round the still bends, between the high

walls o our winding way, reverberating in hollow clas the onderousbeat o the stern-wheel. Trees, trees, millions o trees, massive, immense,running u high3 and at their oot, hugging the bank against the stream,cret the little begrimed steamboat, like a sluggish beetle crawling on thefoor o a loty ortico. It made you eel very small, very lost, and yet itwas not altogether deressing, that eeling. !ter all, i you were small, thegrimy beetle crawled onwhich was just what you wanted it to do. &herethe ilgrims imagined it crawled to I dont know. To some lace where theye/ected to get something. I bet: 1or me it crawled towards >urt"e/clusively3 but when the steam-ies started leaking we crawled very

slow. The reaches oened beore us and closed behind, as i the orest hadsteed leisurely across the water to bar the way or our return. &e



28

enetrated deeer and deeer into the heart o darkness. It was very2uiet there. !t night sometimes the roll o drums behind the curtain o trees would run u the river and remain sustained aintly, as i hovering inthe air high over our heads, till the *rst break o day. &hether it meantwar, eace, or rayer we could not tell. The dawns were heralded by the

descent o a chill stillness3 the wood-cutters slet, their *res burned low3the snaing o a twig would make you start. &ere were wanderers on arehistoric earth, on an earth that wore the asect o an unknown lanet.&e could have ancied ourselves the *rst o men taking ossession o anaccursed inheritance, to be subdued at the cost o roound anguish ando e/cessive toil. +ut suddenly, as we struggled round a bend, there wouldbe a glimse o rush walls, o eaked grass-roos, a burst o yells, a whirlo black limbs, a mass o hands claing o eet staming, o bodiesswaying, o eyes rolling, under the droo o heavy and motionless oliage. The steamer toiled along slowly on the edge o a black andincomrehensible ren"y. The rehistoric man was cursing us, raying tous, welcoming uswho could tell? &e were cut o' rom thecomrehension o our surroundings3 we glided ast like hantoms,wondering and secretly aalled, as sane men would be beore anenthusiastic outbreak in a madhouse. &e could not understand becausewe were too ar and could not remember because we were travelling inthe night o *rst ages, o those ages that are gone, leaving hardly a signand no memories.

6The earth seemed unearthly. &e are accustomed to look uon theshackled orm o a con2uered monster, but therethere you could look ata thing monstrous and ree. It was unearthly, and the men wereNo, they

were not inhuman. &ell, you know, that was the worst o itthis susiciono their not being inhuman. It would come slowly to one. They howled andleaed, and sun, and made horrid aces3 but what thrilled you was justthe thought o their humanitylike yoursthe thought o your remotekinshi with this wild and assionate uroar. Fgly. @es, it was ugly enough3but i you were man enough you would admit to yoursel that there ywasin you just the aintest trace o a resonse to the terrible rankness o thatnoise, a dim susicion o there being a meaning in it which youyou soremote rom the night o *rst agescould comrehend. !nd why not? Themind o man is caable o anythingbecause everything is in it, all theast as well as all the uture. &hat was there ater all? 8oy, ear, sorrow,

devotion, valour, ragewho can tell?but truthtruth stried o itscloak o time. et the ool gae and shudderthe man knows, and canlook on without a wink. +ut he must at least be as much o a man as theseon the shore. )e must meet that truth with his own true stu'with hisown inborn strength. Arinciles wont do. !c2uisitions, clothes, retty ragsrags that would fy o' at the *rst good shake. No3 you want a deliberatebelie. !n aeal to me in this *endish rowis there? Gery well3 I hear3 Iadmit, but I have a voice, too, and or good or evil mine is the seech thatcannot be silenced. ( course, a ool, what with sheer right and *nesentiments, is always sae. &hos that grunting? @ou wonder I didnt go

ashore or a howl and a dance? &ell, noI didnt. 1ine sentiments, yousay? 1ine sentiments, be hanged: I had no time. I had to mess about with



29

white-lead and stris o woolen blanket heling to ut bandages on thoseleaky steam-iesI tell you. I had to watch the steering, and circumventthose snags, and get the tin-ot along by hook or by crook. There wassurace-truth enough in these things to save a wiser man. !nd betweenwhiles I had to look ater the savage who was *reman. )e was an

imroved secimen3 he could *re u a vertical boiler. )e was there belowme, and, uon my word, to look at him was as ediying as seeing a dog ina arody o breeches and a eather hat, walking on his hind-legs. ! ewmonths o training had done or that really *ne cha. )e s2uinted at thesteam-gauge and at the water-gauge with an evident e'ort o intreidityand he had *led teeth, too, the oor devil, and the wool o his ate shavedinto 2ueer atterns, and three ornamental scars on each o his cheeks. )eought to have been claing his hands and staming his eet on the bank,instead o which he was hard at work, a thrall to strange witchcrat, ull o imroving knowledge. )e was useul because he had been instructed3 andwhat he knew was thisthat should the water in that transarent thingdisaear, the evil sirit inside the boiler would get angry through thegreatness o his thirst, and take a terrible vengeance. 7o he sweated and*red u and watched the glass earully ;with an imromtu charm, madeo rags, tied to his arm, and a iece o olished bone, as big as a watch,stuck fatways through his lower li<, while the wooded banks slied astus slowly, the short noise was let behind, the interminable miles o silenceand we cret on, towards >urt". +ut the snags were thick, thewater was treacherous and shallow, the boiler seemed indeed to have asulky devil in it, and thus neither that *reman nor I had any time to eerinto our creey thoughts.

67ome *ty miles below the Inner 7tation we came uon a hut o reeds, an inclined and melancholy ole, with the unrecogni"able tatters o what had been a fag o some sort fying rom it, and a neatly stackedwood-ile. This was une/ected. &e came to the bank, and on the stacko *rewood ound a fat iece o board with some aded encil-writing onit. &hen decihered it saidB &ood or you. )urry u. !roach cautiously. There was a signature, but it was illegiblenot >urt"a much longerword. )urry u. &here? F the river? !roach cautiously. &e had notdone so. +ut the warning could not have been meant or the lace whereit could be only ound ater aroach. 7omething was wrong above. +utwhatand how much? That was the 2uestion. &e commented adversely

uon the imbecility o that telegrahic style. The bush around saidnothing, and would not let us look very ar, either. ! torn curtain o redtwill hung in the doorway o the hut, and faed sadly in our aces. Thedwelling was dismantled3 but we could see a white man had lived therenot very long ago. There remained a rude tablea lank on two osts3 ahea o rubbish reosed in a dark corner, and by the door I icked u abook. It had lost its covers, and the ages had been thumbed into a stateo e/tremely dirty sotness3 but the back had been lovingly stitched areshwith white cotton thread, which looked clean yet. It was an e/traordinary*nd. Its title was, An n"uiry into some #oints o$ %eamanship, by a man

Towser, Towsonsome such name0aster in his 0ajestys Navy. Thematter looked dreary reading enough, with illustrative diagrams and



30

reulsive tables o *gures, and the coy was si/ty years old. I handled thisama"ing anti2uity with the greatest ossible tenderness, lest it shoulddissolve in my hands. &ithin, Towson or Towser was in2uiring earnestlyinto the breaking strain o shis chains and tackle, and other suchmatters. Not a very enthralling book3 but at the *rst glance you could see

there a singleness o intention, an honest concern or the right way o going to work, which made these humble ages, thought out so manyyears ago, luminous with another than a roessional light. The simle oldsailor, with his talk o chains and urchases, made me orget the jungleand the ilgrims in a delicious sensation o having come uon somethingunmistakably real. 7uch a book being there was wonderul enough3 butstill more astounding were the notes encilled in the margin, and lainlyreerring to the te/t. I couldnt believe my eyes: They were in ciher: @es,it looked like ciher. 1ancy a man lugging with him a book o thatdescrition into this nowhere and studying itand making notesinciher at that: It was an e/travagant mystery.

6I had been dimly aware or some time o a worrying noise, andwhen I lited my eyes I saw the wood-ile was gone, and the manager,aided by all the ilgrims, was shouting at me rom the riverside. I sliedthe book into my ocket. I assure you to leave o' reading was like tearingmysel away rom the shelter o an old and solid riendshi.

6I started the lame engine ahead. It must be this miserable traderthis intruder, e/claimed the manager, looking back malevolently at thelace we had let. )e must be 4nglish, I said. It will not save him romgetting into trouble i he is not careul, muttered the manager darkly. Iobserved with assumed innocence that no man was sae rom trouble in

this world.6The current was more raid now, the steamer seemed at her last

gas, the stern-wheel foed languidly, and I caught mysel listening ontitoe or the ne/t beat o the boat, or in sober truth I e/ected thewretched thing to give u every moment. It was like watching the lastfickers o a lie. +ut still we crawled. 7ometimes I would ick out a tree alittle way ahead to measure our rogress towards >urt" by, but I lost itinvariably beore we got abreast. To kee the eyes so long on one thingwas too much or human atience. The manager dislayed a beautiulresignation. I retted and umed and took to arguing with mysel whetheror no I would talk oenly with >urt"3 but beore I could come to any

conclusion it occurred to me that my seech or my silence, indeed anyaction o mine, would be a mere utility. &hat did it matter what any oneknew or ignored? &hat did it matter who was manager? (ne getssometimes such a fash o insight. The essentials o this a'air lay deeunder the surace, beyond my reach, and beyond my ower o meddling.

6Towards the evening o the second day we judged ourselves abouteight miles rom >urt"s station. I wanted to ush on3 but the managerlooked grave, and told me the navigation u there was so dangerous thatit would be advisable, the sun being very low already, to wait where wewere till ne/t morning. 0oreover, he ointed out that i the warning to

aroach cautiously were to be ollowed, we must aroach in daylightnot at dusk or in the dark. This was sensible enough. 4ight miles meant



31

nearly three hours steaming or us, and I could also see susicious rilesat the uer end o the reach. Nevertheless, I was annoyed beyonde/ression at the delay, and most unreasonably, too, since one nightmore could not matter much ater so many months. !s we had lenty o wood, and caution was the word, I brought u in the middle o the stream.

The reach was narrow, straight, with high sides like a railway cutting. Thedusk came gliding into it long beore the sun had set. The current ransmooth and swit, but a dumb immobility sat on the banks. The livingtrees, lashed together by the creeers and every living bush o theundergrowth, might have been changed into stone, even to the slenderesttwig, to the lightest lea. It was not sleeit seemed unnatural, like astate o trance. Not the aintest sound o any kind could be heard. @oulooked on ama"ed, and began to susect yoursel o being deathen thenight came suddenly, and struck you blind as well. !bout three in themorning some large *sh leaed, and the loud slash made me jum asthough a gun had been *red. &hen the sun rose there was a white og,very warm and clammy, and more blinding than the night. It did not shitor drive3 it was just there, standing all round you like something solid. !teight or nine, erhas, it lited as a shutter lits. &e had a glimse o thetowering multitude o trees, o the immense matted jungle, with thebla"ing little ball o the sun hanging over itall erectly stilland thenthe white shutter came down again, smoothly, as i sliding in greasedgrooves. I ordered the chain, which we had begun to heave in, to be aidout again. +eore it stoed running with a mu5ed rattle, a cry, a veryloud cry, as o in*nite desolation, soared slowly in the oa2ue air. Itceased. ! comlaining clamour, modulated in savage discords, *lled our

ears. The sheer une/ectedness o it made my hair stir under my ca. Idont know how it struck the othersB to me it seemed as though the mistitsel had screamed, so suddenly, and aarently rom all sides at once,did this tumultuous and mournul uroar arise. It culminated in a hurriedoutbreak o almost intolerably e/cessive shrieking, which stoed short,leaving us sti'ened in a variety o silly attitudes, and obstinately listeningto the nearly as aalling and e/cessive silence. #ood #od: &hat is themeaning stammered at my elbow one o the ilgrimsa little at man,with sandy hair and red whiskers, who wore sidesring boots, and inkyjamas tucked into his socks. Two others remained oen-mouthed awhile minute, then dashed into the little cabin, to rush out incontinently

and stand darting scared glances, with &inchesters at ready in theirhands. &hat we could see was just the steamer we were on, her outlinesblurred as though she had been on the oint o dissolving, and a mistystri o water, erhas two eet broad, around herand that was all. Therest o the world was nowhere, as ar as our eyes and ears wereconcerned. 8ust nowhere. #one, disaeared3 swet o' without leaving awhiser or a shadow behind.

6I went orward, and ordered the chain to be hauled in short, so asto be ready to tri the anchor and move the steamboat at once i necessary. &ill they attack? whisered an awed voice. &e will be all

butchered in this og, murmured another. The aces twitched with thestrain, the hands trembled slightly, the eyes orgot to wink. It was very



32

curious to see the contrast o e/ressions o the white men and o theblack ellows o our crew, who were as much strangers to that art o theriver as we, though their homes were only eight hundred miles away. Thewhites, o course greatly discomosed, had besides a curious look o beingainully shocked by such an outrageous row. The others had an alert,

naturally interested e/ression3 but their aces were essentially 2uiet,even those o the one or two who grinned as they hauled at the chain.7everal e/changed short, grunting hrases, which seemed to settle thematter to their satisaction. Their headman, a young, broad-chested black,severely draed in dark-blue ringed cloths, with *erce nostrils and hishair all done u artully in oily ringlets, stood near me. !ha: I said, justor good ellowshis sake. %atch im, he snaed, with a bloodshotwidening o his eyes and a fash o shar teethcatch im. #ive im to us.To you, eh? I asked3 what would you do with them? 4at im: he saidcurtly, and, leaning his elbow on the rail, looked out into the og in adigni*ed and rooundly ensive attitude. I would no doubt have beenroerly horri*ed, had it not occurred to me that he and his chas mustbe very hungryB that they must have been growing increasingly hungry orat least this month ast. They had been engaged or si/ months ;I dontthink a single one o them had any clear idea o time, as we at the end o countless ages have. They still belonged to the beginnings o timehadno inherited e/erience to teach them as it were<, and o course, as longas there was a iece o aer written over in accordance with somearcical law or other made down the river, it didnt enter anybodys headto trouble how they would live. %ertainly they had brought with themsome rotten hio-meat, which couldnt have lasted very long, anyway,

even i the ilgrims hadnt, in the midst o a shocking hullabaloo, thrown aconsiderable 2uantity o it overboard. It looked like a high-handedroceeding3 but it was really a case o legitimate sel-deence. @ou cantbreathe dead hio waking, sleeing, and eating, and at the same timekee your recarious gri on e/istence. +esides that, they had given themevery week three ieces o brass wire, each about nine inches long3 andthe theory was they were to buy their rovisions with that currency inriverside villages. @ou can see how that worked. There were either novillages, or the eole were hostile, or the director, who like the rest o used out o tins, with an occasional old he-goat thrown in, didnt want tosto the steamer or some more or less recondite reason. 7o, unless they

swallowed the wire itsel, or made loos o it to snare the *shes with, Idont see what good their e/travagant salary could be to them. I must sayit was aid with a regularity worthy o a large and honourable tradingcomany. 1or the rest, the only thing to eatthough it didnt look eatablein the leastI saw in their ossession was a ew lums o some stu' likehal-cooked dough, o a dirty lavender colour, they ket wraed inleaves, and now and then swallowed a iece o, but so small that itseemed done more or the looks o the thing than or any serious uroseo sustenance. &hy in the name o all the gnawing devils o hunger theydidnt go or usthey were thirty to *veand have a good tuck-in or

once, ama"es me now when I think o it. They were big owerul men,with not much caacity to weigh the conse2uences, with courage, with



33

strength, even yet, though their skins were no longer glossy and theirmuscles no longer hard. !nd I saw that something restraining, one o those human secrets that ba5e robability, had come into lay there. Ilooked at them with a swit 2uickening o interestnot because it occurredto me I might be eaten by them beore very long, though I own to you that

just then I erceivedin a new light, as it werehow unwholesome theilgrims looked, and I hoed, yes, I ositively hoed, that my asect wasnot sowhat shall I say?sounaeti"ingB a touch o antastic vanitywhich *tted well with the dream-sensation that ervaded all my days atthat time. Aerhas I had a little ever, too. (ne cant live with ones *ngereverlastingly on ones ulse. I had oten a little ever, or a little touch o other thingsthe layul aw-strokes o the wilderness, the reliminarytrifing beore the more serious onslaught which came in due course. @es3 Ilooked at them as you would on any human being, with a curiosity o theirimulses, motives, caacities, weaknesses, when brought to the test o anine/orable hysical necessity. =estraint: &hat ossible restraint? &as itsuerstition, disgust, atience, earor some kind o rimitive honour? Noear can stand u to hunger, no atience can wear it out, disgust simlydoes not e/ist where hunger is3 and as to suerstition, belies, and whatyou may call rinciles, they are less than cha' in a bree"e. $ont youknow the devilry o lingering starvation, its e/aserating torment, its blackthoughts, its sombre and brooding erocity? &ell, I do. It takes a man allhis inborn strength to *ght hunger roerly. Its really easier to acebereavement, dishonour, and the erdition o ones soulthan this kind o rolonged hunger. 7ad, but true. !nd these chas, too, had no earthlyreason or any kind o scrule. =estraint: I would just as soon have

e/ected restraint rom a hyena rowling amongst the corses o abattle*eld. +ut there was the act acing methe act da""ling, to beseen, like the oam on the deths o the sea, like a rile on anunathomable enigma, a mystery greaterwhen I thought o itthan thecurious, ine/licable note o deserate grie in this savage clamour thathad swet by us on the river-bank, behind the blind whiteness o the og.

6Two ilgrims were 2uarrelling in hurried whisers as to which bank.et. no, no3 how can you? =ight, right, o course. It is very serious, saidthe managers voice behind me3 I would be desolated i anything shouldhaen to 0r. >urt" beore we came u. I looked at him, and had not theslightest doubt he was sincere. )e was just the kind o man who would

wish to reserve aearances. That was his restraint. +ut when hemuttered something about going on at once, I did not even take thetrouble to answer him. I knew, and he knew, that it was imossible. &erewe to let go our hold o the bottom, we would be absolutely in the airinsace. &e wouldnt be able to tell where we were going towhether u ordown stream, or acrosstill we etched against one bank or the otherand then we wouldnt know at *rst which it was. ( course I made nomove. I had no mind or a smash-u. @ou couldnt imagine a more deadlylace or a shiwreck. &hether we drowned at once or not, we were sureto erish seedily in one way or another. I authori"e you to take all the

risks, he said, ater a short silence. I reuse to take any, I said shortly3which was just the answer he e/ected, though its tone might have



34

surrised him. &ell, I must deer to your judgment. @ou are catain, hesaid with marked civility. I turned my shoulder to him in sign o myareciation, and looked into the og. )ow long would it last? It was themost hoeless lookout. The aroach to this >urt" grubbing or ivory in thewretched bush was beset by as many dangers as though he had been an

enchanted rincess sleeing in a abulous castle. &ill they attack, do youthink? asked the manager, in a con*dential tone.

6I did not think they would attack, or several obvious reasons. Thethick og was one. I they let the bank in their canoes they would get lostin it, as we would be i we attemted to move. 7till, I had also judged the jungle o both banks 2uite imenetrableand yet eyes were in it, eyesthat had seen us. The riverside bushes were certainly very thick3 but theundergrowth behind was evidently enetrable. )owever, during the shortlit I had seen no canoes anywhere in the reachcertainly not abreast o the steamer. +ut what made the idea o attack inconceivable to me wasthe nature o the noiseo the cries we had heard. They had not the *ercecharacter boding immediate hostile intention. Fne/ected, wild, andviolent as they had been, they had given me an irresistible imression o sorrow. The glimse o the steamboat had or some reason *lled thosesavages with unrestrained grie. The danger, i any, I e/ounded, wasrom our ro/imity to a great human assion let loose. 4ven e/treme grie may ultimately vent itsel in violencebut more generally takes the ormo aathy....

6@ou should have seen the ilgrims stare: They had no heart to grin,or even to revile meB but I believe they thought me gone madwith right,maybe. I delivered a regular lecture. 0y dear boys, it was no good

bothering. >ee a lookout? &ell, you may guess I watched the og or thesigns o liting as a cat watches a mouse3 but or anything else our eyeswere o no more use to us than i we had been buried miles dee in ahea o cotton-wool. It elt like it, toochoking, warm, stifing. +esides, allI said, though it sounded e/travagant, was absolutely true to act. &hatwe aterwards alluded to as an attack was really an attemt at reulse. The action was very ar rom being aggressiveit was not even deensive,in the usual senseB it was undertaken under the stress o deseration, andin its essence was urely rotective.

6It develoed itsel, I should say, two hours ater the og lited, andits commencement was at a sot, roughly seaking, about a mile and a

hal below >urt"s station. &e had just foundered and foed round abend, when I saw an islet, a mere grassy hummock o bright green, in themiddle o the stream. It was the only thing o the kind3 but as we oenedthe reach more, I erceived it was the head o a long sand-bank, or rathero a chain o shallow atches stretching down the middle o the river. Theywere discoloured, just awash, and the whole lot was seen just under thewater, e/actly as a mans backbone is seen running down the middle o his back under the skin. Now, as ar as I did see, I could go to the right orto the let o this. I didnt know either channel, o course. The banks lookedretty well alike, the deth aeared the same3 but as I had been

inormed the station was on the west side, I naturally headed or thewestern assage.



35

6No sooner had we airly entered it than I became aware it wasmuch narrower than I had suosed. To the let o us there was the longuninterruted shoal, and to the right a high, stee bank heavily overgrownwith bushes. !bove the bush the trees stood in serried ranks. The twigsoverhung the current thickly, and rom distance to distance a large limb o

some tree rojected rigidly over the stream. It was then well on in theaternoon, the ace o the orest was gloomy, and a broad stri o shadowhad already allen on the water. In this shadow we steamed uveryslowly, as you may imagine. I sheered her well inshorethe water beingdeeest near the bank, as the sounding-ole inormed me.

6(ne o my hungry and orbearing riends was sounding in the bows just below me. This steamboat was e/actly like a decked scow. (n thedeck, there were two little teakwood houses, with doors and windows. Theboiler was in the ore-end, and the machinery right astern. (ver the wholethere was a light roo, suorted on stanchions. The unnel rojectedthrough that roo, and in ront o the unnel a small cabin built o lightlanks served or a ilot-house. It contained a couch, two cam-stools, aloaded 0artini-)enry leaning in one corner, a tiny table, and the steering-wheel. It had a wide door in ront and a broad shutter at each side. !llthese were always thrown oen, o course. I sent my days erched uthere on the e/treme ore-end o that roo, beore the door. !t night Islet, or tried to, on the couch. !n athletic black belonging to some coasttribe and educated by my oor redecessor, was the helmsman. )esorted a air o brass earrings, wore a blue cloth wraer rom the waistto the ankles, and thought all the world o himsel. )e was the mostunstable kind o ool I had ever seen. )e steered with no end o a swagger

while you were by3 but i he lost sight o you, he became instantly therey o an abject unk, and would let that crile o a steamboat get theuer hand o him in a minute.

6I was looking down at the sounding-ole, and eeling muchannoyed to see at each try a little more o it stick out o that river, when Isaw my oleman give u on the business suddenly, and stretch himsel fat on the deck, without even taking the trouble to haul his ole in. )eket hold on it though, and it trailed in the water. !t the same time the*reman, whom I could also see below me, sat down abrutly beore hisurnace and ducked his head. I was ama"ed. Then I had to look at the rivermighty 2uick, because there was a snag in the airway. 7ticks, little sticks,

were fying aboutthickB they were whi""ing beore my nose, droingbelow me, striking behind me against my ilot-house. !ll this time theriver, the shore, the woods, were very 2uieterectly 2uiet. I could onlyhear the heavy slashing thum o the stern-wheel and the atter o thesethings. &e cleared the snag clumsily. !rrows, by 8ove: &e were being shotat: I steed in 2uickly to close the shutter on the landside. That ool-helmsman, his hands on the sokes, was liting his knees high, staminghis eet, chaming his mouth, like a reined-in horse. %onound him: !ndwe were staggering within ten eet o the bank. I had to lean right out toswing the heavy shutter, and I saw a ace amongst the leaves on the level

with my own, looking at me very *erce and steady3 and then suddenly, asthough a veil had been removed rom my eyes, I made out, dee in the



36

tangled gloom, naked breasts, arms, legs, glaring eyesthe bush wasswarming with human limbs in movement, glistening o bron"e colour. Thetwigs shook, swayed, and rustled, the arrows few out o them, and thenthe shutter came to. 7teer her straight, I said to the helmsman. )e heldhis head rigid, ace orward3 but his eyes rolled, he ket on liting and

setting down his eet gently, his mouth oamed a little. >ee 2uiet: I saidin a ury. I might just as well have ordered a tree not to sway in the wind. Idarted out. +elow me there was a great scu5e o eet on the iron deck3conused e/clamations3 a voice screamed, %an you turn back? I caughtsight o a G-shaed rile on the water ahead. &hat? !nother snag: !usillade burst out under my eet. The ilgrims had oened with their&inchesters, and were simly s2uirting lead into that bush. ! deuce o alot o smoke came u and drove slowly orward. I swore at it. Now Icouldnt see the rile or the snag either. I stood in the doorway, eering,and the arrows came in swarms. They might have been oisoned, but theylooked as though they wouldnt kill a cat. The bush began to howl. (urwood-cutters raised a warlike whoo3 the reort o a rife just at my backdeaened me. I glanced over my shoulder, and the ilot-house was yet ullo noise and smoke when I made a dash at the wheel. The ool-nigger haddroed everything, to throw the shutter oen and let o' that 0artini-)enry. )e stood beore the wide oening, glaring, and I yelled at him tocome back, while I straightened the sudden twist out o that steamboat. There was no room to turn even i I had wanted to, the snag wassomewhere very near ahead in that conounded smoke, there was no timeto lose, so I just crowded her into the bankright into the bank, where Iknew the water was dee.

6&e tore slowly along the overhanging bushes in a whirl o brokentwigs and fying leaves. The usillade below stoed short, as I hadoreseen it would when the s2uirts got emty. I threw my head back to aglinting whi"" that traversed the ilot-house, in at one shutter-hole andout at the other. ooking ast that mad helmsman, who was shaking theemty rife and yelling at the shore, I saw vague orms o men runningbent double, leaing, gliding, distinct, incomlete, evanescent. 7omethingbig aeared in the air beore the shutter, the rife went overboard, andthe man steed back switly, looked at me over his shoulder in ane/traordinary, roound, amiliar manner, and ell uon my eet. The sideo his head hit the wheel twice, and the end o what aeared a long cane

clattered round and knocked over a little cam-stool. It looked as thoughater wrenching that thing rom somebody ashore he had lost his balancein the e'ort. The thin smoke had blown away, we were clear o the snag,and looking ahead I could see that in another hundred yards or so I wouldbe ree to sheer o', away rom the bank3 but my eet elt so very warmand wet that I had to look down. The man had rolled on his back andstared straight u at me3 both his hands clutched that cane. It was theshat o a sear that, either thrown or lunged through the oening, hadcaught him in the side, just below the ribs3 the blade had gone in out o sight, ater making a rightul gash3 my shoes were ull3 a ool o blood lay

very still, gleaming dark-red under the wheel3 his eyes shone with anama"ing lustre. The usillade burst out again. )e looked at me an/iously,



37

griing the sear like something recious, with an air o being araid Iwould try to take it away rom him. I had to make an e'ort to ree my eyesrom his ga"e and attend to the steering. &ith one hand I elt above myhead or the line o the steam whistle, and jerked out screech aterscreech hurriedly. The tumult o angry and warlike yells was checked

instantly, and then rom the deths o the woods went out such atremulous and rolonged wail o mournul ear and utter desair as maybe imagined to ollow the fight o the last hoe rom the earth. There wasa great commotion in the bush3 the shower o arrows stoed, a ewdroing shots rang out sharlythen silence, in which the languid beato the stern-wheel came lainly to my ears. I ut the helm hard a-starboard at the moment when the ilgrim in ink yjamas, very hot andagitated, aeared in the doorway. The manager sends me he began inan ocial tone, and stoed short. #ood #od: he said, glaring at thewounded man.

6&e two whites stood over him, and his lustrous and in2uiringglance enveloed us both. I declare it looked as though he wouldresently ut to us some 2uestions in an understandable language3 but hedied without uttering a sound, without moving a limb, without twitching amuscle. (nly in the very last moment, as though in resonse to some signwe could not see, to some whiser we could not hear, he rowned heavily,and that rown gave to his black death-mask an inconceivably sombre,brooding, and menacing e/ression. The lustre o in2uiring glance adedswitly into vacant glassiness. %an you steer? I asked the agent eagerly.)e looked very dubious3 but I made a grab at his arm, and he understoodat once I meant him to steer whether or no. To tell you the truth, I was

morbidly an/ious to change my shoes and socks. )e is dead, murmuredthe ellow, immensely imressed. No doubt about it, said I, tugging likemad at the shoe-laces. !nd by the way, I suose 0r. >urt" is dead aswell by this time.

61or the moment that was the dominant thought. There was a senseo e/treme disaointment, as though I had ound out I had been strivingater something altogether without a substance. I couldnt have beenmore disgusted i I had travelled all this way or the sole urose o talking with 0r. >urt". Talking with... I fung one shoe overboard, andbecame aware that that was e/actly what I had been looking orward toa talk with >urt". I made the strange discovery that I had never imagined

him as doing, you know, but as discoursing. I didnt say to mysel, Now Iwill never see him, or Now I will never shake him by the hand, but, NowI will never hear him. The man resented himsel as a voice. Not o coursethat I did not connect him with some sort o action. )adnt I been told inall the tones o jealousy and admiration that he had collected, bartered,swindled, or stolen more ivory than all the other agents together? Thatwas not the oint. The oint was in his being a gited creature, and that o all his gits the one that stood out reeminently, that carried with it asense o real resence, was his ability to talk, his wordsthe git o e/ression, the bewildering, the illuminating, the most e/alted and the

most contemtible, the ulsating stream o light, or the deceitul fow romthe heart o an imenetrable darkness.



38

6The other shoe went fying unto the devil-god o that river. Ithought, +y 8ove: its all over. &e are too late3 he has vanishedthe githas vanished, by means o some sear, arrow, or club. I will never hearthat cha seak ater alland my sorrow had a startling e/travagance o emotion, even such as I had noticed in the howling sorrow o these

savages in the bush. I couldnt have elt more o lonely desolationsomehow, had I been robbed o a belie or had missed my destiny in lie....&hy do you sigh in this beastly way, somebody? !bsurd? &ell, absurd.#ood ord: mustnt a man ever)ere, give me some tobacco.6...

There was a ause o roound stillness, then a match fared, and0arlows lean ace aeared, worn, hollow, with downward olds anddroed eyelids, with an asect o concentrated attention3 and as he tookvigorous draws at his ie, it seemed to retreat and advance out o thenight in the regular ficker o tiny fame. The match went out.

6!bsurd:6 he cried. 6This is the worst o trying to tell.... )ere you allare, each moored with two good addresses, like a hulk with two anchors, abutcher round one corner, a oliceman round another, e/cellent aetites,and temerature normalyou hearnormal rom years end to yearsend. !nd you say, !bsurd: !bsurd bee/loded: !bsurd: 0y dear boys,what can you e/ect rom a man who out o sheer nervousness had justfung overboard a air o new shoes: Now I think o it, it is ama"ing I didnot shed tears. I am, uon the whole, roud o my ortitude. I was cut tothe 2uick at the idea o having lost the inestimable rivilege o listening tothe gited >urt". ( course I was wrong. The rivilege was waiting or me.(h, yes, I heard more than enough. !nd I was right, too. ! voice. )e wasvery little more than a voice. !nd I heardhimitthis voiceother

voicesall o them were so little more than voicesand the memory o that time itsel lingers around me, imalable, like a dying vibration o oneimmense jabber, silly, atrocious, sordid, savage, or simly mean, withoutany kind o sense. Goices, voiceseven the girl herselnow6

)e was silent or a long time.6I laid the ghost o his gits at last with a lie,6 he began, suddenly.

6#irl: &hat? $id I mention a girl? (h, she is out o itcomletely. Theythe women, I meanare out o itshould be out o it. &e must hel themto stay in that beautiul world o their own, lest ours gets worse. (h, shehad to be out o it. @ou should have heard the disinterred body o 0r. >urt"saying, 0y Intended. @ou would have erceived directly then how

comletely she was out o it. !nd the loty rontal bone o 0r. >urt": Theysay the hair goes on growing sometimes, but thisahsecimen, wasimressively bald. The wilderness had atted him on the head, and,behold, it was like a ballan ivory ball3 it had caressed him, andlo:hehad withered3 it had taken him, loved him, embraced him, got into hisveins, consumed his fesh, and sealed his soul to its own by theinconceivable ceremonies o some devilish initiation. )e was its soiledand amered avourite. Ivory? I should think so. )eas o it, stacks o it. The old mud shanty was bursting with it. @ou would think there was not asingle tusk let either above or below the ground in the whole country.

0ostly ossil, the manager had remarked, disaragingly. It was no moreossil than I am3 but they call it ossil when it is dug u. It aears these



39

niggers do bury the tusks sometimesbut evidently they couldnt burythis arcel dee enough to save the gited 0r. >urt" rom his ate. &e *lledthe steamboat with it, and had to ile a lot on the deck. Thus he could seeand enjoy as long as he could see, because the areciation o this avourhad remained with him to the last. @ou should have heard him say, 0y

ivory. (h, yes, I heard him. 0y Intended, my ivory, my station, my river,my everything belonged to him. It made me hold my breath ine/ectation o hearing the wilderness burst into a rodigious eal o laughter that would shake the */ed stars in their laces. 4verythingbelonged to himbut that was a trife. The thing was to know what hebelonged to, how many owers o darkness claimed him or their own. That was the refection that made you creey all over. It was imossibleit was not good or one eithertrying to imagine. )e had taken a highseat amongst the devils o the landI mean literally. @ou cantunderstand. )ow could you?with solid avement under your eet,surrounded by kind neighbours ready to cheer you or to all on you,steing delicately between the butcher and the oliceman, in the holyterror o scandal and gallows and lunatic asylumshow can you imaginewhat articular region o the *rst ages a mans untrammelled eet maytake him into by the way o solitudeutter solitude without a olicemanby the way o silenceutter silence, where no warning voice o a kindneighbour can be heard whisering o ublic oinion? These little thingsmake all the great di'erence. &hen they are gone you must all backuon your own innate strength, uon your own caacity or aithulness.( course you may be too much o a ool to go wrongtoo dull even toknow you are being assaulted by the owers o darkness. I take it, no ool

ever made a bargain or his soul with the devil3 the ool is too much o aool, or the devil too much o a devilI dont know which. (r you may besuch a thunderingly e/alted creature as to be altogether dea and blind toanything but heavenly sights and sounds. Then the earth or you is only astanding laceand whether to be like this is your loss or your gain Iwont retend to say. +ut most o us are neither one nor the other. Theearth or us is a lace to live in, where we must ut u with sights, withsounds, with smells, too, by 8ove:breathe dead hio, so to seak, andnot be contaminated. !nd there, dont you see? @our strength comes in,the aith in your ability or the digging o unostentatious holes to bury thestu' inyour ower o devotion, not to yoursel, but to an obscure, back-

breaking business. !nd thats dicult enough. 0ind, I am not trying toe/cuse or even e/lainI am trying to account to mysel oror0r.>urt"or the shade o 0r. >urt". This initiated wraith rom the back o Nowhere honoured me with its ama"ing con*dence beore it vanishedaltogether. This was because it could seak 4nglish to me. The original>urt" had been educated artly in 4ngland, andas he was good enoughto say himselhis symathies were in the right lace. )is mother washal-4nglish, his ather was hal-1rench. !ll 4uroe contributed to themaking o >urt"3 and by and by I learned that, most aroriately, theInternational 7ociety or the 7uression o 7avage %ustoms had intrusted

him with the making o a reort, or its uture guidance. !nd he hadwritten it, too. Ive seen it. Ive read it. It was elo2uent, vibrating with



40

elo2uence, but too high-strung, I think. 7eventeen ages o close writinghe had ound time or: +ut this must have been beore hislet us saynerves, went wrong, and caused him to reside at certain midnightdances ending with unseakable rites, whichas ar as I reluctantlygathered rom what I heard at various timeswere o'ered u to himdo

you understand?to 0r. >urt" himsel. +ut it was a beautiul iece o writing. The oening aragrah, however, in the light o later inormation,strikes me now as ominous. )e began with the argument that we whites,rom the oint o develoment we had arrived at, must necessarilyaear to them savagesJ in the nature o suernatural beingswearoach them with the might o a deity, and so on, and so on. +y thesimle e/ercise o our will we can e/ert a ower or good racticallyunbounded, etc., etc. 1rom that oint he soared and took me with him. The eroration was magni*cent, though dicult to remember, you know.It gave me the notion o an e/otic Immensity ruled by an august+enevolence. It made me tingle with enthusiasm. This was the unboundedower o elo2uenceo wordso burning noble words. There were noractical hints to interrut the magic current o hrases, unless a kind o note at the oot o the last age, scrawled evidently much later, in anunsteady hand, may be regarded as the e/osition o a method. It wasvery simle, and at the end o that moving aeal to every altruisticsentiment it bla"ed at you, luminous and terriying, like a fash o lightningin a serene skyB 4/terminate all the brutes: The curious art was that hehad aarently orgotten all about that valuable ostscritum, because,later on, when he in a sense came to himsel, he reeatedly entreated meto take good care o my amhlet ;he called it<, as it was sure to have in

the uture a good infuence uon his career. I had ull inormation about allthese things, and, besides, as it turned out, I was to have the care o hismemory. Ive done enough or it to give me the indisutable right to lay it,i I choose, or an everlasting rest in the dust-bin o rogress, amongst allthe sweeings and, *guratively seaking, all the dead cats o civili"ation.+ut then, you see, I cant choose. )e wont be orgotten. &hatever hewas, he was not common. )e had the ower to charm or rightenrudimentary souls into an aggravated witch-dance in his honour3 he couldalso *ll the small souls o the ilgrims with bitter misgivingsB he had onedevoted riend at least, and he had con2uered one soul in the world thatwas neither rudimentary nor tainted with sel-seeking. No3 I cant orget

him, though I am not reared to arm the ellow was e/actly worth thelie we lost in getting to him. I missed my late helmsman awullyI missedhim even while his body was still lying in the ilot-house. Aerhas you willthink it assing strange this regret or a savage who was no more accountthan a grain o sand in a black 7ahara. &ell, dont you see, he had donesomething, he had steered3 or months I had him at my backa helaninstrument. It was a kind o artnershi. )e steered or meI had to lookater him, I worried about his de*ciencies, and thus a subtle bond hadbeen created, o which I only became aware when it was suddenly broken.!nd the intimate roundity o that look he gave me when he received his

hurt remains to this day in my memorylike a claim o distant kinshiarmed in a sureme moment.



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6Aoor ool: I he had only let that shutter alone. )e had no restraint,no restraintjust like >urt"a tree swayed by the wind. !s soon as I hadut on a dry air o sliers, I dragged him out, ater *rst jerking the searout o his side, which oeration I coness I erormed with my eyes shuttight. )is heels leaed together over the little doorste3 his shoulders

were ressed to my breast3 I hugged him rom behind deserately. (h: hewas heavy, heavy3 heavier than any man on earth, I should imagine. Thenwithout more ado I tied him overboard. The current snatched him asthough he had been a wis o grass, and I saw the body roll over twicebeore I lost sight o it or ever. !ll the ilgrims and the manager werethen congregated on the awning-deck about the ilot-house, chattering ateach other like a fock o e/cited magies, and there was a scandali"edmurmur at my heartless romtitude. &hat they wanted to kee thatbody hanging about or I cant guess. 4mbalm it, maybe. +ut I had alsoheard another, and a very ominous, murmur on the deck below. 0y riendsthe wood-cutters were likewise scandali"ed, and with a better show o reasonthough I admit that the reason itsel was 2uite inadmissible. (h,2uite: I had made u my mind that i my late helmsman was to be eaten,the *shes alone should have him. )e had been a very second-ratehelmsman while alive, but now he was dead he might have become a*rst-class temtation, and ossibly cause some startling trouble. +esides,I was an/ious to take the wheel, the man in ink yjamas showing himsel a hoeless du'er at the business.

6This I did directly the simle uneral was over. &e were going hal-seed, keeing right in the middle o the stream, and I listened to the talkabout me. They had given u >urt", they had given u the station3 >urt"

was dead, and the station had been burntand so onand so on. Thered-haired ilgrim was beside himsel with the thought that at least thisoor >urt" had been roerly avenged. 7ay: &e must have made aglorious slaughter o them in the bush. 4h? &hat do you think? 7ay? )eositively danced, the bloodthirsty little gingery beggar. !nd he hadnearly ainted when he saw the wounded man: I could not hel saying,@ou made a glorious lot o smoke, anyhow. I had seen, rom the way thetos o the bushes rustled and few, that almost all the shots had gone toohigh. @ou cant hit anything unless you take aim and *re rom theshoulder3 but these chas *red rom the hi with their eyes shut. Theretreat, I maintainedand I was rightwas caused by the screeching o

the steam whistle. Fon this they orgot >urt", and began to howl at mewith indignant rotests.

6The manager stood by the wheel murmuring con*dentially aboutthe necessity o getting well away down the river beore dark at allevents, when I saw in the distance a clearing on the riverside and theoutlines o some sort o building. &hats this? I asked. )e claed hishands in wonder. The station: he cried. I edged in at once, still going hal-seed.

6Through my glasses I saw the sloe o a hill intersersed with raretrees and erectly ree rom undergrowth. ! long decaying building on

the summit was hal buried in the high grass3 the large holes in theeaked roo gaed black rom aar3 the jungle and the woods made a



42

background. There was no enclosure or ence o any kind3 but there hadbeen one aarently, or near the house hal-a-do"en slim osts remainedin a row, roughly trimmed, and with their uer ends ornamented withround carved balls. The rails, or whatever there had been between, haddisaeared. ( course the orest surrounded all that. The river-bank was

clear, and on the waterside I saw a white man under a hat like a cart-wheel beckoning ersistently with his whole arm. 4/amining the edge o the orest above and below, I was almost certain I could see movementshuman orms gliding here and there. I steamed ast rudently, thenstoed the engines and let her drit down. The man on the shore beganto shout, urging us to land. &e have been attacked, screamed themanager. I knowI know. Its all right, yelled back the other, as cheerulas you lease. %ome along. Its all right. I am glad.

6)is asect reminded me o something I had seensomething unnyI had seen somewhere. !s I manoeuvred to get alongside, I was askingmysel, &hat does this ellow look like? 7uddenly I got it. )e looked like aharle2uin. )is clothes had been made o some stu' that was brownholland robably, but it was covered with atches all over, with brightatches, blue, red, and yellowatches on the back, atches on the ront,atches on elbows, on knees3 coloured binding around his jacket, scarletedging at the bottom o his trousers3 and the sunshine made him looke/tremely gay and wonderully neat withal, because you could see howbeautiully all this atching had been done. ! beardless, boyish ace, veryair, no eatures to seak o, nose eeling, little blue eyes, smiles androwns chasing each other over that oen countenance like sunshine andshadow on a wind-swet lain. ook out, catain: he cried3 theres a

snag lodged in here last night. &hat: !nother snag? I coness I sworeshameully. I had nearly holed my crile, to *nish o' that charming tri. The harle2uin on the bank turned his little ug-nose u to me. @ou4nglish? he asked, all smiles. !re you? I shouted rom the wheel. Thesmiles vanished, and he shook his head as i sorry or my disaointment. Then he brightened u. Never mind: he cried encouragingly. !re we intime? I asked. )e is u there, he relied, with a toss o the head u thehill, and becoming gloomy all o a sudden. )is ace was like the autumnsky, overcast one moment and bright the ne/t.

6&hen the manager, escorted by the ilgrims, all o them armed tothe teeth, had gone to the house this cha came on board. I say, I dont

like this. These natives are in the bush, I said. )e assured me earnestly itwas all right. They are simle eole, he added3 well, I am glad youcame. It took me all my time to kee them o'. +ut you said it was allright, I cried. (h, they meant no harm, he said3 and as I stared hecorrected himsel, Not e/actly. Then vivaciously, 0y aith, your ilot-house wants a clean-u: In the ne/t breath he advised me to keeenough steam on the boiler to blow the whistle in case o any trouble.(ne good screech will do more or you than all your rifes. They aresimle eole, he reeated. )e rattled away at such a rate he 2uiteoverwhelmed me. )e seemed to be trying to make u or lots o silence,

and actually hinted, laughing, that such was the case. $ont you talk with0r. >urt"? I said. @ou dont talk with that manyou listen to him, he



43

e/claimed with severe e/altation. +ut now )e waved his arm, and inthe twinkling o an eye was in the uttermost deths o desondency. In amoment he came u again with a jum, ossessed himsel o both myhands, shook them continuously, while he gabbledB +rother sailor...honour... leasure... delight... introduce mysel... =ussian... son o an arch-

riest... #overnment o Tambov... &hat? Tobacco: 4nglish tobacco3 thee/cellent 4nglish tobacco: Now, thats brotherly. 7moke? &heres a sailorthat does not smoke?6

6The ie soothed him, and gradually I made out he had run awayrom school, had gone to sea in a =ussian shi3 ran away again3 servedsome time in 4nglish shis3 was now reconciled with the arch-riest. )emade a oint o that. +ut when one is young one must see things, gathere/erience, ideas3 enlarge the mind. )ere: I interruted. @ou can nevertell: )ere I met 0r. >urt", he said, youthully solemn and reroachul. Iheld my tongue ater that. It aears he had ersuaded a $utch trading-house on the coast to *t him out with stores and goods, and had startedor the interior with a light heart and no more idea o what would haento him than a baby. )e had been wandering about that river or nearly twoyears alone, cut o' rom everybody and everything. I am not so young asI look. I am twenty-*ve, he said. !t *rst old Gan 7huyten would tell me togo to the devil, he narrated with keen enjoyment3 but I stuck to him, andtalked and talked, till at last he got araid I would talk the hind-leg o' hisavourite dog, so he gave me some chea things and a ew guns, and toldme he hoed he would never see my ace again. #ood old $utchman, Gan7huyten. Ive sent him one small lot o ivory a year ago, so that he cantcall me a little thie when I get back. I hoe he got it. !nd or the rest I

dont care. I had some wood stacked or you. That was my old house. $idyou see?

6I gave him Towsons book. )e made as though he would kiss me,but restrained himsel. The only book I had let, and I thought I had lost it,he said, looking at it ecstatically. 7o many accidents haen to a mangoing about alone, you know. %anoes get uset sometimesandsometimes youve got to clear out so 2uick when the eole get angry. )ethumbed the ages. @ou made notes in =ussian? I asked. )e nodded. Ithought they were written in ciher, I said. )e laughed, then becameserious. I had lots o trouble to kee these eole o', he said. $id theywant to kill you? I asked. (h, no: he cried, and checked himsel. &hy did

they attack us? I ursued. )e hesitated, then said shameacedly, Theydont want him to go. $ont they? I said curiously. )e nodded a nod ullo mystery and wisdom. I tell you, he cried, this man has enlarged mymind. )e oened his arms wide, staring at me with his little blue eyesthat were erectly round.6

III6I looked at him, lost in astonishment. There he was beore me, in

motley, as though he had absconded rom a troue o mimes,enthusiastic, abulous. )is very e/istence was imrobable, ine/licable,



44

and altogether bewildering. )e was an insoluble roblem. It wasinconceivable how he had e/isted, how he had succeeded in getting soar, how he had managed to remainwhy he did not instantly disaear. Iwent a little arther, he said, then still a little arthertill I had gone soar that I dont know how Ill ever get back. Never mind. Alenty time. I can

manage. @ou take >urt" away 2uick2uickI tell you. The glamour o youth enveloed his arti-coloured rags, his destitution, his loneliness, theessential desolation o his utile wanderings. 1or monthsor yearshislie hadnt been worth a days urchase3 and there he was gallantly,thoughtlessly alive, to all aearances indestructible solely by the virtueo his ew years and o his unrefecting audacity. I was seduced intosomething like admirationlike envy. #lamour urged him on, glamourket him unscathed. )e surely wanted nothing rom the wilderness butsace to breathe in and to ush on through. )is need was to e/ist, and tomove onwards at the greatest ossible risk, and with a ma/imum o rivation. I the absolutely ure, uncalculating, unractical sirit o adventure had ever ruled a human being, it ruled this beatched youth. Ialmost envied him the ossession o this modest and clear fame. Itseemed to have consumed all thought o sel so comletely, that evenwhile he was talking to you, you orgot that it was hethe man beoreyour eyeswho had gone through these things. I did not envy him hisdevotion to >urt", though. )e had not meditated over it. It came to him,and he acceted it with a sort o eager atalism. I must say that to me itaeared about the most dangerous thing in every way he had come uonso ar.

6They had come together unavoidably, like two shis becalmed near

each other, and lay rubbing sides at last. I suose >urt" wanted anaudience, because on a certain occasion, when encamed in the orest,they had talked all night, or more robably >urt" had talked. &e talked o everything, he said, 2uite transorted at the recollection. I orgot therewas such a thing as slee. The night did not seem to last an hour.4verything: 4verything:... ( love, too. !h, he talked to you o love: Isaid, much amused. It isnt what you think, he cried, almost assionately.It was in general. )e made me see thingsthings.

6)e threw his arms u. &e were on deck at the time, and theheadman o my wood-cutters, lounging near by, turned uon him hisheavy and glittering eyes. I looked around, and I dont know why, but I

assure you that never, never beore, did this land, this river, this jungle,the very arch o this bla"ing sky, aear to me so hoeless and so dark, soimenetrable to human thought, so itiless to human weakness. !nd,ever since, you have been with him, o course? I said.

6(n the contrary. It aears their intercourse had been very muchbroken by various causes. )e had, as he inormed me roudly, managedto nurse >urt" through two illnesses ;he alluded to it as you would to somerisky eat<, but as a rule >urt" wandered alone, ar in the deths o theorest. Gery oten coming to this station, I had to wait days and daysbeore he would turn u, he said. !h, it was worth waiting or:

sometimes. &hat was he doing? e/loring or what? I asked. (h, yes, o course3 he had discovered lots o villages, a lake, toohe did not know



45

e/actly in what direction3 it was dangerous to in2uire too muchbutmostly his e/editions had been or ivory. +ut he had no goods to tradewith by that time, I objected. Theres a good lot o cartridges let evenyet, he answered, looking away. To seak lainly, he raided the country, Isaid. )e nodded. Not alone, surely: )e muttered something about the

villages round that lake. >urt" got the tribe to ollow him, did he? Isuggested. )e *dgeted a little. They adored him, he said. The tone o these words was so e/traordinary that I looked at him searchingly. It wascurious to see his mingled eagerness and reluctance to seak o >urt". The man *lled his lie, occuied his thoughts, swayed his emotions. &hatcan you e/ect? he burst out3 he came to them with thunder andlightning, you knowand they had never seen anything like itand veryterrible. )e could be very terrible. @ou cant judge 0r. >urt" as you wouldan ordinary man. No, no, no: Nowjust to give you an ideaI dont mindtelling you, he wanted to shoot me, too, one daybut I dont judge him.7hoot you: I cried &hat or? &ell, I had a small lot o ivory the chie o that village near my house gave me. @ou see I used to shoot game orthem. &ell, he wanted it, and wouldnt hear reason. )e declared he wouldshoot me unless I gave him the ivory and then cleared out o the country,because he could do so, and had a ancy or it, and there was nothing onearth to revent him killing whom he jolly well leased. !nd it was true,too. I gave him the ivory. &hat did I care: +ut I didnt clear out. No, no. Icouldnt leave him. I had to be careul, o course, till we got riendly againor a time. )e had his second illness then. !terwards I had to kee out o the way3 but I didnt mind. )e was living or the most art in those villageson the lake. &hen he came down to the river, sometimes he would take to

me, and sometimes it was better or me to be careul. This man su'eredtoo much. )e hated all this, and somehow he couldnt get away. &hen Ihad a chance I begged him to try and leave while there was time3 I o'eredto go back with him. !nd he would say yes, and then he would remain3 goo' on another ivory hunt3 disaear or weeks3 orget himsel amongstthese eoleorget himselyou know. &hy: hes mad, I said. )erotested indignantly. 0r. >urt" couldnt be mad. I I had heard him talk,only two days ago, I wouldnt dare hint at such a thing.... I had taken umy binoculars while we talked, and was looking at the shore, sweeing thelimit o the orest at each side and at the back o the house. Theconsciousness o there being eole in that bush, so silent, so 2uietas

silent and 2uiet as the ruined house on the hillmade me uneasy. Therewas no sign on the ace o nature o this ama"ing tale that was not somuch told as suggested to me in desolate e/clamations, comleted byshrugs, in interruted hrases, in hints ending in dee sighs. The woodswere unmoved, like a maskheavy, like the closed door o a risontheylooked with their air o hidden knowledge, o atient e/ectation, o unaroachable silence. The =ussian was e/laining to me that it was onlylately that 0r. >urt" had come down to the river, bringing along with himall the *ghting men o that lake tribe. )e had been absent or severalmonthsgetting himsel adored, I suoseand had come down

une/ectedly, with the intention to all aearance o making a raid eitheracross the river or down stream. 4vidently the aetite or more ivory had



46

got the better o thewhat shall I say?less material asirations.)owever he had got much worse suddenly. I heard he was lying helless,and so I came utook my chance, said the =ussian. (h, he is bad, verybad. I directed my glass to the house. There were no signs o lie, butthere was the ruined roo, the long mud wall eeing above the grass,

with three little s2uare window-holes, no two o the same si"e3 all thisbrought within reach o my hand, as it were. !nd then I made a brus2uemovement, and one o the remaining osts o that vanished ence leaedu in the *eld o my glass. @ou remember I told you I had been struck atthe distance by certain attemts at ornamentation, rather remarkable inthe ruinous asect o the lace. Now I had suddenly a nearer view, and its*rst result was to make me throw my head back as i beore a blow. Then Iwent careully rom ost to ost with my glass, and I saw my mistake. These round knobs were not ornamental but symbolic3 they weree/ressive and u""ling, striking and disturbingood or thought andalso or vultures i there had been any looking down rom the sky3 but atall events or such ants as were industrious enough to ascend the ole. They would have been even more imressive, those heads on the stakes,i their aces had not been turned to the house. (nly one, the *rst I hadmade out, was acing my way. I was not so shocked as you may think. Thestart back I had given was really nothing but a movement o surrise. Ihad e/ected to see a knob o wood there, you know. I returneddeliberately to the *rst I had seenand there it was, black, dried, sunken,with closed eyelidsa head that seemed to slee at the to o that ole,and, with the shrunken dry lis showing a narrow white line o the teeth,was smiling, too, smiling continuously at some endless and jocose dream

o that eternal slumber.6I am not disclosing any trade secrets. In act, the manager said

aterwards that 0r. >urt"s methods had ruined the district. I have nooinion on that oint, but I want you clearly to understand that there wasnothing e/actly ro*table in these heads being there. They only showedthat 0r. >urt" lacked restraint in the grati*cation o his various lusts, thatthere was something wanting in himsome small matter which, when theressing need arose, could not be ound under his magni*cent elo2uence.&hether he knew o this de*ciency himsel I cant say. I think theknowledge came to him at lastonly at the very last. +ut the wildernesshad ound him out early, and had taken on him a terrible vengeance or

the antastic invasion. I think it had whisered to him things about himsel which he did not know, things o which he had no concetion till he tookcounsel with this great solitudeand the whiser had roved irresistiblyascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at thecore.... I ut down the glass, and the head that had aeared near enoughto be soken to seemed at once to have leaed away rom me intoinaccessible distance.

6The admirer o 0r. >urt" was a bit crestallen. In a hurried, indistinctvoice he began to assure me he had not dared to take thesesay,symbolsdown. )e was not araid o the natives3 they would not stir till

0r. >urt" gave the word. )is ascendancy was e/traordinary. The cams o these eole surrounded the lace, and the chies came every day to see



47

him. They would crawl.... I dont want to know anything o the ceremoniesused when aroaching 0r. >urt", I shouted. %urious, this eeling thatcame over me that such details would be more intolerable than thoseheads drying on the stakes under 0r. >urt"s windows. !ter all, that wasonly a savage sight, while I seemed at one bound to have been

transorted into some lightless region o subtle horrors, where ure,uncomlicated savagery was a ositive relie, being something that had aright to e/istobviouslyin the sunshine. The young man looked at mewith surrise. I suose it did not occur to him that 0r. >urt" was no idol o mine. )e orgot I hadnt heard any o these slendid monologues on, whatwas it? on love, justice, conduct o lieor what not. I it had come tocrawling beore 0r. >urt", he crawled as much as the veriest savage o them all. I had no idea o the conditions, he saidB these heads were theheads o rebels. I shocked him e/cessively by laughing. =ebels: &hatwould be the ne/t de*nition I was to hear? There had been enemies,criminals, workersand these were rebels. Those rebellious heads lookedvery subdued to me on their sticks. @ou dont know how such a lie tries aman like >urt", cried >urt"s last discile. &ell, and you? I said. I: I: I ama simle man. I have no great thoughts. I want nothing rom anybody. )owcan you comare me to...? )is eelings were too much or seech, andsuddenly he broke down. I dont understand, he groaned. Ive been doingmy best to kee him alive, and thats enough. I had no hand in all this. Ihave no abilities. There hasnt been a dro o medicine or a mouthul o invalid ood or months here. )e was shameully abandoned. ! man likethis, with such ideas. 7hameully: 7hameully: IIhavent slet or thelast ten nights...

6)is voice lost itsel in the calm o the evening. The long shadows o the orest had slied downhill while we talked, had gone ar beyond theruined hovel, beyond the symbolic row o stakes. !ll this was in the gloom,while we down there were yet in the sunshine, and the stretch o the riverabreast o the clearing glittered in a still and da""ling slendour, with amurky and overshadowed bend above and below. Not a living soul wasseen on the shore. The bushes did not rustle.

67uddenly round the corner o the house a grou o men aeared,as though they had come u rom the ground. They waded waist-dee inthe grass, in a comact body, bearing an imrovised stretcher in theirmidst. Instantly, in the emtiness o the landscae, a cry arose whose

shrillness ierced the still air like a shar arrow fying straight to the veryheart o the land3 and, as i by enchantment, streams o human beingso naked human beingswith sears in their hands, with bows, with shields,with wild glances and savage movements, were oured into the clearingby the dark-aced and ensive orest. The bushes shook, the grass swayedor a time, and then everything stood still in attentive immobility.

6Now, i he does not say the right thing to them we are all done or,said the =ussian at my elbow. The knot o men with the stretcher hadstoed, too, halway to the steamer, as i etri*ed. I saw the man on thestretcher sit u, lank and with an ulited arm, above the shoulders o the

bearers. et us hoe that the man who can talk so well o love in generalwill *nd some articular reason to sare us this time, I said. I resented



48

bitterly the absurd danger o our situation, as i to be at the mercy o thatatrocious hantom had been a dishonouring necessity. I could not hear asound, but through my glasses I saw the thin arm e/tendedcommandingly, the lower jaw moving, the eyes o that aarition shiningdarkly ar in its bony head that nodded with grotes2ue jerks. >urt">urt"

that means short in #ermandont it? &ell, the name was as true aseverything else in his lieand death. )e looked at least seven eet long.)is covering had allen o', and his body emerged rom it itiul andaalling as rom a winding-sheet. I could see the cage o his ribs all astir,the bones o his arm waving. It was as though an animated image o death carved out o old ivory had been shaking its hand with menaces ata motionless crowd o men made o dark and glittering bron"e. I saw himoen his mouth wideit gave him a weirdly voracious asect, as thoughhe had wanted to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men beore him.! dee voice reached me aintly. )e must have been shouting. )e ellback suddenly. The stretcher shook as the bearers staggered orwardagain, and almost at the same time I noticed that the crowd o savageswas vanishing without any ercetible movement o retreat, as i theorest that had ejected these beings so suddenly had drawn them in againas the breath is drawn in a long asiration.

67ome o the ilgrims behind the stretcher carried his armstwoshot-guns, a heavy rife, and a light revolver-carbinethe thunderbolts o that itiul 8uiter. The manager bent over him murmuring as he walkedbeside his head. They laid him down in one o the little cabinsjust aroom or a bed lace and a cam-stool or two, you know. &e had broughthis belated corresondence, and a lot o torn enveloes and oen letters

littered his bed. )is hand roamed eebly amongst these aers. I wasstruck by the *re o his eyes and the comosed languor o his e/ression.It was not so much the e/haustion o disease. )e did not seem in ain. This shadow looked satiated and calm, as though or the moment it hadhad its *ll o all the emotions.

6)e rustled one o the letters, and looking straight in my ace said, Iam glad. 7omebody had been writing to him about me. These secialrecommendations were turning u again. The volume o tone he emittedwithout e'ort, almost without the trouble o moving his lis, ama"ed me.! voice: a voice: It was grave, roound, vibrating, while the man did notseem caable o a whiser. )owever, he had enough strength in him

actitious no doubtto very nearly make an end o us, as you shall heardirectly.

6The manager aeared silently in the doorway3 I steed out atonce and he drew the curtain ater me. The =ussian, eyed curiously by theilgrims, was staring at the shore. I ollowed the direction o his glance.

6$ark human shaes could be made out in the distance, fittingindistinctly against the gloomy border o the orest, and near the river twobron"e *gures, leaning on tall sears, stood in the sunlight under antastichead-dresses o sotted skins, warlike and still in statues2ue reose. !ndrom right to let along the lighted shore moved a wild and gorgeous

aarition o a woman.



49

67he walked with measured stes, draed in stried and ringedcloths, treading the earth roudly, with a slight jingle and fash o barbarous ornaments. 7he carried her head high3 her hair was done in theshae o a helmet3 she had brass leggings to the knee, brass wiregauntlets to the elbow, a crimson sot on her tawny cheek, innumerable

necklaces o glass beads on her neck3 bi"arre things, charms, gits o witch-men, that hung about her, glittered and trembled at every ste. 7hemust have had the value o several elehant tusks uon her. 7he wassavage and suerb, wild-eyed and magni*cent3 there was somethingominous and stately in her deliberate rogress. !nd in the hush that hadallen suddenly uon the whole sorrowul land, the immense wilderness,the colossal body o the ecund and mysterious lie seemed to look at her,ensive, as though it had been looking at the image o its own tenebrousand assionate soul.

67he came abreast o the steamer, stood still, and aced us. )erlong shadow ell to the waters edge. )er ace had a tragic and *erceasect o wild sorrow and o dumb ain mingled with the ear o somestruggling, hal-shaed resolve. 7he stood looking at us without a stir, andlike the wilderness itsel, with an air o brooding over an inscrutableurose. ! whole minute assed, and then she made a ste orward. There was a low jingle, a glint o yellow metal, a sway o ringed draeries,and she stoed as i her heart had ailed her. The young ellow by myside growled. The ilgrims murmured at my back. 7he looked at us all as i her lie had deended uon the unswerving steadiness o her glance.7uddenly she oened her bared arms and threw them u rigid above herhead, as though in an uncontrollable desire to touch the sky, and at the

same time the swit shadows darted out on the earth, swet around onthe river, gathering the steamer into a shadowy embrace. ! ormidablesilence hung over the scene.

67he turned away slowly, walked on, ollowing the bank, and assedinto the bushes to the let. (nce only her eyes gleamed back at us in thedusk o the thickets beore she disaeared.

6I she had o'ered to come aboard I really think I would have triedto shoot her, said the man o atches, nervously. I have been risking mylie every day or the last ortnight to kee her out o the house. 7he got inone day and kicked u a row about those miserable rags I icked u in thestoreroom to mend my clothes with. I wasnt decent. !t least it must have

been that, or she talked like a ury to >urt" or an hour, ointing at menow and then. I dont understand the dialect o this tribe. uckily or me, Iancy >urt" elt too ill that day to care, or there would have been mischie.I dont understand.... Noits too much or me. !h, well, its all over now.

6!t this moment I heard >urt"s dee voice behind the curtainB 7aveme:save the ivory, you mean. $ont tell me. 7ave me! &hy, Ive had tosave you. @ou are interruting my lans now. 7ick: 7ick: Not so sick as youwould like to believe. Never mind. Ill carry my ideas out yetI will return.Ill show you what can be done. @ou with your little eddling notionsyouare interering with me. I will return. I....

6The manager came out. )e did me the honour to take me underthe arm and lead me aside. )e is very low, very low, he said. )e



50

considered it necessary to sigh, but neglected to be consistentlysorrowul. &e have done all we could or himhavent we? +ut there is nodisguising the act, 0r. >urt" has done more harm than good to the%omany. )e did not see the time was not rie or vigorous action.%autiously, cautiouslythats my rincile. &e must be cautious yet. The

district is closed to us or a time. $elorable: Fon the whole, the tradewill su'er. I dont deny there is a remarkable 2uantity o ivorymostlyossil. &e must save it, at all eventsbut look how recarious the ositionisand why? +ecause the method is unsound. $o you, said I, looking atthe shore, call it 6unsound method?6 &ithout doubt, he e/claimed hotly.$ont you?... No method at all, I murmured ater a while. 4/actly, hee/ulted. I anticiated this. 7hows a comlete want o judgment. It is myduty to oint it out in the roer 2uarter. (h, said I, that ellowwhatshis name?the brickmaker, will make a readable reort or you. )eaeared conounded or a moment. It seemed to me I had neverbreathed an atmoshere so vile, and I turned mentally to >urt" or relieositively or relie. Nevertheless I think 0r. >urt" is a remarkable man, Isaid with emhasis. )e started, droed on me a heavy glance, said very2uietly, he &as, and turned his back on me. 0y hour o avour was over3 Iound mysel lumed along with >urt" as a artisan o methods or whichthe time was not rieB I was unsound: !h: but it was something to have atleast a choice o nightmares.

6I had turned to the wilderness really, not to 0r. >urt", who, I wasready to admit, was as good as buried. !nd or a moment it seemed to meas i I also were buried in a vast grave ull o unseakable secrets. I elt anintolerable weight oressing my breast, the smell o the dam earth, the

unseen resence o victorious corrution, the darkness o an imenetrablenight.... The =ussian taed me on the shoulder. I heard him mumblingand stammering something about brother seamancouldnt concealknowledge o matters that would a'ect 0r. >urt"s reutation. I waited.1or him evidently 0r. >urt" was not in his grave3 I susect that or him 0r.>urt" was one o the immortals. &ell: said I at last, seak out. !s ithaens, I am 0r. >urt"s riendin a way.

6)e stated with a good deal o ormality that had we not been o the same roession, he would have ket the matter to himsel withoutregard to conse2uences. )e susected there was an active ill-will towardshim on the art o these white men that @ou are right, I said,

remembering a certain conversation I had overheard. The manager thinksyou ought to be hanged. )e showed a concern at this intelligence whichamused me at *rst. I had better get out o the way 2uietly, he saidearnestly. I can do no more or >urt" now, and they would soon *nd somee/cuse. &hats to sto them? Theres a military ost three hundred milesrom here. &ell, uon my word, said I, erhas you had better go i youhave any riends amongst the savages near by. Alenty, he said. They aresimle eoleand I want nothing, you know. )e stood biting his li,thenB I dont want any harm to haen to these whites here, but o courseI was thinking o 0r. >urt"s reutationbut you are a brother seaman and

!ll right, said I, ater a time. 0r. >urt"s reutation is sae with me. Idid not know how truly I soke.



51

6)e inormed me, lowering his voice, that it was >urt" who hadordered the attack to be made on the steamer. )e hated sometimes theidea o being taken awayand then again.... +ut I dont understand thesematters. I am a simle man. )e thought it would scare you awaythatyou would give it u, thinking him dead. I could not sto him. (h, I had an

awul time o it this last month. Gery well, I said. )e is all right now. @e-e-es, he muttered, not very convinced aarently. Thanks, said I3 I shallkee my eyes oen. +ut 2uiet-eh? he urged an/iously. It would be awulor his reutation i anybody here I romised a comlete discretion withgreat gravity. I have a canoe and three black ellows waiting not very ar. Iam o'. %ould you give me a ew 0artini-)enry cartridges? I could, anddid, with roer secrecy. )e heled himsel, with a wink at me, to ahandul o my tobacco. +etween sailorsyou knowgood 4nglishtobacco. !t the door o the ilot-house he turned roundI say, haventyou a air o shoes you could sare? )e raised one leg. ook. The soleswere tied with knotted strings sandalwise under his bare eet. I rooted outan old air, at which he looked with admiration beore tucking it under hislet arm. (ne o his ockets ;bright red< was bulging with cartridges, romthe other ;dark blue< eeed Towsons In2uiry, etc., etc. )e seemed tothink himsel e/cellently well e2uied or a renewed encounter with thewilderness. !h: Ill never, never meet such a man again. @ou ought tohave heard him recite oetryhis own, too, it was, he told me. Aoetry: )erolled his eyes at the recollection o these delights. (h, he enlarged mymind: #ood-bye, said I. )e shook hands and vanished in the night.7ometimes I ask mysel whether I had ever really seen himwhether itwas ossible to meet such a henomenon:...

6&hen I woke u shortly ater midnight his warning came to mymind with its hint o danger that seemed, in the starred darkness, realenough to make me get u or the urose o having a look round. (n thehill a big *re burned, illuminating *tully a crooked corner o the station-house. (ne o the agents with a icket o a ew o our blacks, armed orthe urose, was keeing guard over the ivory3 but dee within the orest,red gleams that wavered, that seemed to sink and rise rom the groundamongst conused columnar shaes o intense blackness, showed thee/act osition o the cam where 0r. >urt"s adorers were keeing theiruneasy vigil. The monotonous beating o a big drum *lled the air withmu5ed shocks and a lingering vibration. ! steady droning sound o many

men chanting each to himsel some weird incantation came out rom theblack, fat wall o the woods as the humming o bees comes out o a hive,and had a strange narcotic e'ect uon my hal-awake senses. I believe Ido"ed o' leaning over the rail, till an abrut burst o yells, anoverwhelming outbreak o a ent-u and mysterious ren"y, woke me uin a bewildered wonder. It was cut short all at once, and the low droningwent on with an e'ect o audible and soothing silence. I glanced casuallyinto the little cabin. ! light was burning within, but 0r. >urt" was not there.

6I think I would have raised an outcry i I had believed my eyes. +ut Ididnt believe them at *rstthe thing seemed so imossible. The act is I

was comletely unnerved by a sheer blank right, ure abstract terror,unconnected with any distinct shae o hysical danger. &hat made this



52

emotion so overowering washow shall I de*ne it?the moral shock Ireceived, as i something altogether monstrous, intolerable to thought andodious to the soul, had been thrust uon me une/ectedly. This lasted o course the merest raction o a second, and then the usual sense o commonlace, deadly danger, the ossibility o a sudden onslaught and

massacre, or something o the kind, which I saw imending, was ositivelywelcome and comosing. It aci*ed me, in act, so much that I did notraise an alarm.

6There was an agent buttoned u inside an ulster and sleeing on achair on deck within three eet o me. The yells had not awakened him3 hesnored very slightly3 I let him to his slumbers and leaed ashore. I did notbetray 0r. >urt"it was ordered I should never betray himit was writtenI should be loyal to the nightmare o my choice. I was an/ious to deal withthis shadow by mysel aloneand to this day I dont know why I was so jealous o sharing with any one the eculiar blackness o that e/erience.

6!s soon as I got on the bank I saw a traila broad trail through thegrass. I remember the e/ultation with which I said to mysel, )e cantwalkhe is crawling on all-oursIve got him. The grass was wet withdew. I strode raidly with clenched *sts. I ancy I had some vague notiono alling uon him and giving him a drubbing. I dont know. I had someimbecile thoughts. The knitting old woman with the cat obtruded hersel uon my memory as a most imroer erson to be sitting at the other endo such an a'air. I saw a row o ilgrims s2uirting lead in the air out o &inchesters held to the hi. I thought I would never get back to thesteamer, and imagined mysel living alone and unarmed in the woods toan advanced age. 7uch silly thingsyou know. !nd I remember I

conounded the beat o the drum with the beating o my heart, and wasleased at its calm regularity.

6I ket to the track thoughthen stoed to listen. The night wasvery clear3 a dark blue sace, sarkling with dew and starlight, in whichblack things stood very still. I thought I could see a kind o motion aheado me. I was strangely cocksure o everything that night. I actually let thetrack and ran in a wide semicircle ;I verily believe chuckling to mysel< soas to get in ront o that stir, o that motion I had seeni indeed I hadseen anything. I was circumventing >urt" as though it had been a boyishgame.

6I came uon him, and, i he had not heard me coming, I would have

allen over him, too, but he got u in time. )e rose, unsteady, long, ale,indistinct, like a vaour e/haled by the earth, and swayed slightly, mistyand silent beore me3 while at my back the *res loomed between thetrees, and the murmur o many voices issued rom the orest. I had cuthim o' cleverly3 but when actually conronting him I seemed to come tomy senses, I saw the danger in its right roortion. It was by no meansover yet. 7uose he began to shout? Though he could hardly stand, therewas still lenty o vigour in his voice. #o awayhide yoursel, he said, inthat roound tone. It was very awul. I glanced back. &e were withinthirty yards rom the nearest *re. ! black *gure stood u, strode on long

black legs, waving long black arms, across the glow. It had hornsanteloe horns, I thinkon its head. 7ome sorcerer, some witch-man, no



53

doubtB it looked *endlike enough. $o you know what you are doing? Iwhisered. Aerectly, he answered, raising his voice or that single wordBit sounded to me ar o' and yet loud, like a hail through a seaking-trumet. I he makes a row we are lost, I thought to mysel. This clearlywas not a case or *sticu's, even aart rom the very natural aversion I

had to beat that 7hadowthis wandering and tormented thing. @ou willbe lost, I saidutterly lost. (ne gets sometimes such a fash o insiration, you know. I did say the right thing, though indeed he could nothave been more irretrievably lost than he was at this very moment, whenthe oundations o our intimacy were being laidto endureto endureeven to the endeven beyond.

6I had immense lans, he muttered irresolutely. @es, said I3 but i you try to shout Ill smash your head with There was not a stick or astone near. I will throttle you or good, I corrected mysel. I was on thethreshold o great things, he leaded, in a voice o longing, with awistulness o tone that made my blood run cold. !nd now or this stuidscoundrel @our success in 4uroe is assured in any case, I armedsteadily. I did not want to have the throttling o him, you understandandindeed it would have been very little use or any ractical urose. I triedto break the sellthe heavy, mute sell o the wildernessthat seemedto draw him to its itiless breast by the awakening o orgotten and brutalinstincts, by the memory o grati*ed and monstrous assions. This alone, Iwas convinced, had driven him out to the edge o the orest, to the bush,towards the gleam o *res, the throb o drums, the drone o weirdincantations3 this alone had beguiled his unlawul soul beyond the boundso ermitted asirations. !nd, dont you see, the terror o the osition was

not in being knocked on the headthough I had a very lively sense o thatdanger, toobut in this, that I had to deal with a being to whom I couldnot aeal in the name o anything high or low. I had, even like theniggers, to invoke himhimselhis own e/alted and incredibledegradation. There was nothing either above or below him, and I knew it.)e had kicked himsel loose o the earth. %onound the man: he hadkicked the very earth to ieces. )e was alone, and I beore him did notknow whether I stood on the ground or foated in the air. Ive been tellingyou what we saidreeating the hrases we ronouncedbut whats thegood? They were common everyday wordsthe amiliar, vague soundse/changed on every waking day o lie. +ut what o that? They had behind

them, to my mind, the terri*c suggestiveness o words heard in dreams, o hrases soken in nightmares. 7oul: I anybody ever struggled with a soul,I am the man. !nd I wasnt arguing with a lunatic either. +elieve me ornot, his intelligence was erectly clearconcentrated, it is true, uonhimsel with horrible intensity, yet clear3 and therein was my only chancebarring, o course, the killing him there and then, which wasnt so good,on account o unavoidable noise. +ut his soul was mad. +eing alone in thewilderness, it had looked within itsel, and, by heavens: I tell you, it hadgone mad. I hador my sins, I suoseto go through the ordeal o looking into it mysel. No elo2uence could have been so withering to ones

belie in mankind as his *nal burst o sincerity. )e struggled with himsel,too. I saw itI heard it. I saw the inconceivable mystery o a soul that



54

knew no restraint, no aith, and no ear, yet struggling blindly with itsel. Iket my head retty well3 but when I had him at last stretched on thecouch, I wied my orehead, while my legs shook under me as though Ihad carried hal a ton on my back down that hill. !nd yet I had onlysuorted him, his bony arm clased round my neckand he was not

much heavier than a child.6&hen ne/t day we let at noon, the crowd, o whose resence

behind the curtain o trees I had been acutely conscious all the time,fowed out o the woods again, *lled the clearing, covered the sloe with amass o naked, breathing, 2uivering, bron"e bodies. I steamed u a bit,then swung down stream, and two thousand eyes ollowed the evolutionso the slashing, thuming, *erce river-demon beating the water with itsterrible tail and breathing black smoke into the air. In ront o the *rstrank, along the river, three men, lastered with bright red earth rom headto oot, strutted to and ro restlessly. &hen we came abreast again, theyaced the river, stamed their eet, nodded their horned heads, swayedtheir scarlet bodies3 they shook towards the *erce river-demon a bunch o black eathers, a mangy skin with a endent tailsomething that looked adried gourd3 they shouted eriodically together strings o ama"ing wordsthat resembled no sounds o human language3 and the dee murmurs o the crowd, interruted suddenly, were like the resonses o some sataniclitany.

6&e had carried >urt" into the ilot-houseB there was more air there.ying on the couch, he stared through the oen shutter. There was aneddy in the mass o human bodies, and the woman with helmeted headand tawny cheeks rushed out to the very brink o the stream. 7he ut out

her hands, shouted something, and all that wild mob took u the shout ina roaring chorus o articulated, raid, breathless utterance.

6$o you understand this? I asked.6)e ket on looking out ast me with *ery, longing eyes, with a

mingled e/ression o wistulness and hate. )e made no answer, but I sawa smile, a smile o inde*nable meaning, aear on his colourless lis thata moment ater twitched convulsively. $o I not? he said slowly, gasing,as i the words had been torn out o him by a suernatural ower.

6I ulled the string o the whistle, and I did this because I saw theilgrims on deck getting out their rifes with an air o anticiating a jollylark. !t the sudden screech there was a movement o abject terror

through that wedged mass o bodies. $ont: dont you righten themaway, cried some one on deck disconsolately. I ulled the string time atertime. They broke and ran, they leaed, they crouched, they swerved, theydodged the fying terror o the sound. The three red chas had allen fat,ace down on the shore, as though they had been shot dead. (nly thebarbarous and suerb woman did not so much as finch, and stretchedtragically her bare arms ater us over the sombre and glittering river.

6!nd then that imbecile crowd down on the deck started their littleun, and I could see nothing more or smoke.

6The brown current ran switly out o the heart o darkness, bearing

us down towards the sea with twice the seed o our uward rogress3and >urt"s lie was running switly, too, ebbing, ebbing out o his heart



55

into the sea o ine/orable time. The manager was very lacid, he had novital an/ieties now, he took us both in with a comrehensive and satis*edglanceB the a'air had come o' as well as could be wished. I saw the timearoaching when I would be let alone o the arty o unsound method. The ilgrims looked uon me with disavour. I was, so to seak, numbered

with the dead. It is strange how I acceted this unoreseen artnershi,this choice o nightmares orced uon me in the tenebrous land invadedby these mean and greedy hantoms.

6>urt" discoursed. ! voice: a voice: It rang dee to the very last. Itsurvived his strength to hide in the magni*cent olds o elo2uence thebarren darkness o his heart. (h, he struggled: he struggled: The wasteso his weary brain were haunted by shadowy images nowimages o wealth and ame revolving obse2uiously round his une/tinguishable git o noble and loty e/ression. 0y Intended, my station, my career, my ideasthese were the subjects or the occasional utterances o elevatedsentiments. The shade o the original >urt" re2uented the bedside o thehollow sham, whose ate it was to be buried resently in the mould o rimeval earth. +ut both the diabolic love and the unearthly hate o themysteries it had enetrated ought or the ossession o that soul satiatedwith rimitive emotions, avid o lying ame, o sham distinction, o all theaearances o success and ower.

67ometimes he was contemtibly childish. )e desired to have kingsmeet him at railway-stations on his return rom some ghastly Nowhere,where he intended to accomlish great things. @ou show them you havein you something that is really ro*table, and then there will be no limitsto the recognition o your ability, he would say. ( course you must take

care o the motivesright motivesalways. The long reaches that werelike one and the same reach, monotonous bends that were e/actly alike,slied ast the steamer with their multitude o secular trees lookingatiently ater this grimy ragment o another world, the orerunner o change, o con2uest, o trade, o massacres, o blessings. I looked aheadiloting. %lose the shutter, said >urt" suddenly one day3 I cant bear tolook at this. I did so. There was a silence. (h, but I will wring your heartyet: he cried at the invisible wilderness.

6&e broke downas I had e/ectedand had to lie u or reairs atthe head o an island. This delay was the *rst thing that shook >urt"scon*dence. (ne morning he gave me a acket o aers and a

hotograhthe lot tied together with a shoe-string. >ee this or me, hesaid. This no/ious ool ;meaning the manager< is caable o rying intomy bo/es when I am not looking. In the aternoon I saw him. )e was lyingon his back with closed eyes, and I withdrew 2uietly, but I heard himmutter, ive rightly, die, die... I listened. There was nothing more. &as herehearsing some seech in his slee, or was it a ragment o a hraserom some newsaer article? )e had been writing or the aers andmeant to do so again, or the urthering o my ideas. Its a duty.

6)is was an imenetrable darkness. I looked at him as you eerdown at a man who is lying at the bottom o a reciice where the sun

never shines. +ut I had not much time to give him, because I was helingthe engine-driver to take to ieces the leaky cylinders, to straighten a



56

bent connecting-rod, and in other such matters. I lived in an inernal messo rust, *lings, nuts, bolts, sanners, hammers, ratchet-drillsthings Iabominate, because I dont get on with them. I tended the little orge weortunately had aboard3 I toiled wearily in a wretched scra-heaunless Ihad the shakes too bad to stand.

6(ne evening coming in with a candle I was startled to hear him saya little tremulously, I am lying here in the dark waiting or death. Thelight was within a oot o his eyes. I orced mysel to murmur, (h,nonsense: and stood over him as i trans*/ed.

6!nything aroaching the change that came over his eatures Ihave never seen beore, and hoe never to see again. (h, I wasnttouched. I was ascinated. It was as though a veil had been rent. I saw onthat ivory ace the e/ression o sombre ride, o ruthless ower, o craven terroro an intense and hoeless desair. $id he live his lieagain in every detail o desire, temtation, and surrender during thatsureme moment o comlete knowledge? )e cried in a whiser at someimage, at some visionhe cried out twice, a cry that was no more than abreathB

6The horror: The horror:6I blew the candle out and let the cabin. The ilgrims were dining in

the mess-room, and I took my lace oosite the manager, who lited hiseyes to give me a 2uestioning glance, which I successully ignored. )eleaned back, serene, with that eculiar smile o his sealing theune/ressed deths o his meanness. ! continuous shower o small fiesstreamed uon the lam, uon the cloth, uon our hands and aces.7uddenly the managers boy ut his insolent black head in the doorway,

and said in a tone o scathing contemtB60istah >urt"he dead.6!ll the ilgrims rushed out to see. I remained, and went on with my

dinner. I believe I was considered brutally callous. )owever, I did not eatmuch. There was a lam in therelight, dont you knowand outside itwas so beastly, beastly dark. I went no more near the remarkable manwho had ronounced a judgment uon the adventures o his soul on thisearth. The voice was gone. &hat else had been there? +ut I am o courseaware that ne/t day the ilgrims buried something in a muddy hole.

6!nd then they very nearly buried me.6)owever, as you see, I did not go to join >urt" there and then. I did

not. I remained to dream the nightmare out to the end, and to show myloyalty to >urt" once more. $estiny. 0y destiny: $roll thing lie isthatmysterious arrangement o merciless logic or a utile urose. The mostyou can hoe rom it is some knowledge o yourselthat comes too latea cro o une/tinguishable regrets. I have wrestled with death. It is themost une/citing contest you can imagine. It takes lace in an imalablegreyness, with nothing underoot, with nothing around, withoutsectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire o victory, without the great ear o deeat, in a sickly atmoshere o teidsceticism, without much belie in your own right, and still less in that o

your adversary. I such is the orm o ultimate wisdom, then lie is agreater riddle than some o us think it to be. I was within a hairs breadth



57

o the last oortunity or ronouncement, and I ound with humiliationthat robably I would have nothing to say. This is the reason why I armthat >urt" was a remarkable man. )e had something to say. )e said it.7ince I had eeed over the edge mysel, I understand better the meaningo his stare, that could not see the fame o the candle, but was wide

enough to embrace the whole universe, iercing enough to enetrate allthe hearts that beat in the darkness. )e had summed uhe had judged.The horror: )e was a remarkable man. !ter all, this was the e/ressiono some sort o belie3 it had candour, it had conviction, it had a vibratingnote o revolt in its whiser, it had the aalling ace o a glimsed truththe strange commingling o desire and hate. !nd it is not my owne/tremity I remember besta vision o greyness without orm *lled withhysical ain, and a careless contemt or the evanescence o all thingseven o this ain itsel. No: It is his e/tremity that I seem to have livedthrough. True, he had made that last stride, he had steed over theedge, while I had been ermitted to draw back my hesitating oot. !nderhas in this is the whole di'erence3 erhas all the wisdom, and alltruth, and all sincerity, are just comressed into that inareciablemoment o time in which we ste over the threshold o the invisible.Aerhas: I like to think my summing-u would not have been a word o careless contemt. +etter his crymuch better. It was an armation, amoral victory aid or by innumerable deeats, by abominable terrors, byabominable satisactions. +ut it was a victory: That is why I haveremained loyal to >urt" to the last, and even beyond, when a long timeater I heard once more, not his own voice, but the echo o his magni*centelo2uence thrown to me rom a soul as translucently ure as a cli' o

crystal.6No, they did not bury me, though there is a eriod o time which I

remember mistily, with a shuddering wonder, like a assage through someinconceivable world that had no hoe in it and no desire. I ound mysel back in the seulchral city resenting the sight o eole hurrying throughthe streets to *lch a little money rom each other, to devour theirinamous cookery, to gul their unwholesome beer, to dream theirinsigni*cant and silly dreams. They tresassed uon my thoughts. Theywere intruders whose knowledge o lie was to me an irritating retence,because I elt so sure they could not ossibly know the things I knew. Theirbearing, which was simly the bearing o commonlace individuals going

about their business in the assurance o erect saety, was o'ensive tome like the outrageous fauntings o olly in the ace o a danger it isunable to comrehend. I had no articular desire to enlighten them, but Ihad some diculty in restraining mysel rom laughing in their aces soull o stuid imortance. I daresay I was not very well at that time. Itottered about the streetsthere were various a'airs to settlegrinningbitterly at erectly resectable ersons. I admit my behaviour wasine/cusable, but then my temerature was seldom normal in these days.0y dear aunts endeavours to nurse u my strength seemed altogetherbeside the mark. It was not my strength that wanted nursing, it was my

imagination that wanted soothing. I ket the bundle o aers given meby >urt", not knowing e/actly what to do with it. )is mother had died



58

lately, watched over, as I was told, by his Intended. ! clean-shaved man,with an ocial manner and wearing gold-rimmed sectacles, called on meone day and made in2uiries, at *rst circuitous, aterwards suavelyressing, about what he was leased to denominate certain documents. Iwas not surrised, because I had had two rows with the manager on the

subject out there. I had reused to give u the smallest scra out o thatackage, and I took the same attitude with the sectacled man. )ebecame darkly menacing at last, and with much heat argued that the%omany had the right to every bit o inormation about its territories.!nd said he, 0r. >urt"s knowledge o une/lored regions must have beennecessarily e/tensive and eculiarowing to his great abilities and to thedelorable circumstances in which he had been lacedB thereore Iassured him 0r. >urt"s knowledge, however e/tensive, did not bear uonthe roblems o commerce or administration. )e invoked then the nameo science. It would be an incalculable loss i, etc., etc. I o'ered him thereort on the 7uression o 7avage %ustoms, with the ostscritum torno'. )e took it u eagerly, but ended by sning at it with an air o contemt. This is not what we had a right to e/ect, he remarked.4/ect nothing else, I said. There are only rivate letters. )e withdrewuon some threat o legal roceedings, and I saw him no more3 butanother ellow, calling himsel >urt"s cousin, aeared two days later,and was an/ious to hear all the details about his dear relatives lastmoments. Incidentally he gave me to understand that >urt" had beenessentially a great musician. There was the making o an immensesuccess, said the man, who was an organist, I believe, with lank grey hairfowing over a greasy coat-collar. I had no reason to doubt his statement3

and to this day I am unable to say what was >urt"s roession, whetherhe ever had anywhich was the greatest o his talents. I had taken himor a ainter who wrote or the aers, or else or a journalist who couldaintbut even the cousin ;who took snu' during the interview< could nottell me what he had beene/actly. )e was a universal geniuson thatoint I agreed with the old cha, who thereuon blew his nose noisily intoa large cotton handkerchie and withdrew in senile agitation, bearing o' some amily letters and memoranda without imortance. Fltimately a journalist an/ious to know something o the ate o his dear colleagueturned u. This visitor inormed me >urt"s roer shere ought to havebeen olitics on the oular side. )e had urry straight eyebrows, bristly

hair croed short, an eyeglass on a broad ribbon, and, becominge/ansive, conessed his oinion that >urt" really couldnt write a bitbutheavens: how that man could talk. )e electri*ed large meetings. )e hadaithdont you see?he had the aith. )e could get himsel to believeanythinganything. )e would have been a slendid leader o an e/tremearty. &hat arty? I asked. !ny arty, answered the other. )e was anane/tremist. $id I not think so? I assented. $id I know, he asked, with asudden fash o curiosity, what it was that had induced him to go outthere? @es, said I, and orthwith handed him the amous =eort orublication, i he thought *t. )e glanced through it hurriedly, mumbling all

the time, judged it would do, and took himsel o' with this lunder.



59

6Thus I was let at last with a slim acket o letters and the girlsortrait. 7he struck me as beautiulI mean she had a beautiule/ression. I know that the sunlight can be made to lie, too, yet one eltthat no maniulation o light and ose could have conveyed the delicateshade o truthulness uon those eatures. 7he seemed ready to listen

without mental reservation, without susicion, without a thought orhersel. I concluded I would go and give her back her ortrait and thoseletters mysel. %uriosity? @es3 and also some other eeling erhas. !ll thathad been >urt"s had assed out o my handsB his soul, his body, hisstation, his lans, his ivory, his career. There remained only his memoryand his Intendedand I wanted to give that u, too, to the ast, in a wayto surrender ersonally all that remained o him with me to that oblivionwhich is the last word o our common ate. I dont deend mysel. I had noclear ercetion o what it was I really wanted. Aerhas it was an imulseo unconscious loyalty, or the ul*lment o one o those ironic necessitiesthat lurk in the acts o human e/istence. I dont know. I cant tell. +ut Iwent.

6I thought his memory was like the other memories o the dead thataccumulate in every mans liea vague imress on the brain o shadowsthat had allen on it in their swit and *nal assage3 but beore the highand onderous door, between the tall houses o a street as still anddecorous as a well-ket alley in a cemetery, I had a vision o him on thestretcher, oening his mouth voraciously, as i to devour all the earth withall its mankind. )e lived then beore me3 he lived as much as he had everliveda shadow insatiable o slendid aearances, o rightul realities3 ashadow darker than the shadow o the night, and draed nobly in the olds

o a gorgeous elo2uence. The vision seemed to enter the house with methe stretcher, the hantom-bearers, the wild crowd o obedientworshiers, the gloom o the orests, the glitter o the reach between themurky bends, the beat o the drum, regular and mu5ed like the beating o a heartthe heart o a con2uering darkness. It was a moment o triumhor the wilderness, an invading and vengeul rush which, it seemed to me,I would have to kee back alone or the salvation o another soul. !nd thememory o what I had heard him say aar there, with the horned shaesstirring at my back, in the glow o *res, within the atient woods, thosebroken hrases came back to me, were heard again in their ominous andterriying simlicity. I remembered his abject leading, his abject threats,

the colossal scale o his vile desires, the meanness, the torment, thetemestuous anguish o his soul. !nd later on I seemed to see hiscollected languid manner, when he said one day, This lot o ivory now isreally mine. The %omany did not ay or it. I collected it mysel at a verygreat ersonal risk. I am araid they will try to claim it as theirs though.)m. It is a dicult case. &hat do you think I ought to doresist? 4h? Iwant no more than justice.... )e wanted no more than justiceno morethan justice. I rang the bell beore a mahogany door on the *rst foor, andwhile I waited he seemed to stare at me out o the glassy anelstarewith that wide and immense stare embracing, condemning, loathing all

the universe. I seemed to hear the whisered cry, 6The horror: Thehorror:6



60

6The dusk was alling. I had to wait in a loty drawing-room withthree long windows rom foor to ceiling that were like three luminous andbedraed columns. The bent gilt legs and backs o the urniture shone inindistinct curves. The tall marble *relace had a cold and monumentalwhiteness. ! grand iano stood massively in a corner3 with dark gleams

on the fat suraces like a sombre and olished sarcohagus. ! high dooroenedclosed. I rose.

67he came orward, all in black, with a ale head, foating towardsme in the dusk. 7he was in mourning. It was more than a year since hisdeath, more than a year since the news came3 she seemed as though shewould remember and mourn orever. 7he took both my hands in hers andmurmured, I had heard you were coming. I noticed she was not veryyoungI mean not girlish. 7he had a mature caacity or *delity, orbelie, or su'ering. The room seemed to have grown darker, as i all thesad light o the cloudy evening had taken reuge on her orehead. This airhair, this ale visage, this ure brow, seemed surrounded by an ashy halorom which the dark eyes looked out at me. Their glance was guileless,roound, con*dent, and trustul. 7he carried her sorrowul head asthough she were roud o that sorrow, as though she would say, II aloneknow how to mourn or him as he deserves. +ut while we were stillshaking hands, such a look o awul desolation came uon her ace that Ierceived she was one o those creatures that are not the laythings o Time. 1or her he had died only yesterday. !nd, by 8ove: the imressionwas so owerul that or me, too, he seemed to have died only yesterdaynay, this very minute. I saw her and him in the same instant o timehisdeath and her sorrowI saw her sorrow in the very moment o his death.

$o you understand? I saw them togetherI heard them together. 7he hadsaid, with a dee catch o the breath, I have survived while my strainedears seemed to hear distinctly, mingled with her tone o desairing regret,the summing u whiser o his eternal condemnation. I asked mysel whatI was doing there, with a sensation o anic in my heart as though I hadblundered into a lace o cruel and absurd mysteries not *t or a humanbeing to behold. 7he motioned me to a chair. &e sat down. I laid theacket gently on the little table, and she ut her hand over it.... @ou knewhim well, she murmured, ater a moment o mourning silence.

6Intimacy grows 2uickly out there, I said. I knew him as well as it isossible or one man to know another.

6!nd you admired him, she said. It was imossible to know himand not to admire him. &as it?

6)e was a remarkable man, I said, unsteadily. Then beore theaealing */ity o her ga"e, that seemed to watch or more words on mylis, I went on, It was imossible not to

6ove him, she *nished eagerly, silencing me into an aalleddumbness. )ow true: how true: +ut when you think that no one knew himso well as I: I had all his noble con*dence. I knew him best.

6@ou knew him best, I reeated. !nd erhas she did. +ut withevery word soken the room was growing darker, and only her orehead,

smooth and white, remained illumined by the ine/tinguishable light o belie and love.



61

6@ou were his riend, she went on. )is riend, she reeated, a littlelouder. @ou must have been, i he had given you this, and sent you to me.I eel I can seak to youand oh: I must seak. I want youyou who haveheard his last wordsto know I have been worthy o him.... It is notride.... @es: I am roud to know I understood him better than any one on

earthhe told me so himsel. !nd since his mother died I have had no oneno onetoto

6I listened. The darkness deeened. I was not even sure whether hehad given me the right bundle. I rather susect he wanted me to take careo another batch o his aers which, ater his death, I saw the managere/amining under the lam. !nd the girl talked, easing her ain in thecertitude o my symathy3 she talked as thirsty men drink. I had heardthat her engagement with >urt" had been disaroved by her eole. )ewasnt rich enough or something. !nd indeed I dont know whether he hadnot been a auer all his lie. )e had given me some reason to iner that itwas his imatience o comarative overty that drove him out there.

6... &ho was not his riend who had heard him seak once? shewas saying. )e drew men towards him by what was best in them. 7helooked at me with intensity. It is the git o the great, she went on, andthe sound o her low voice seemed to have the accomaniment o all theother sounds, ull o mystery, desolation, and sorrow, I had ever heardthe rile o the river, the soughing o the trees swayed by the wind, themurmurs o the crowds, the aint ring o incomrehensible words criedrom aar, the whiser o a voice seaking rom beyond the threshold o an eternal darkness. +ut you have heard him: @ou know: she cried.

6@es, I know, I said with something like desair in my heart, but

bowing my head beore the aith that was in her, beore that great andsaving illusion that shone with an unearthly glow in the darkness, in thetriumhant darkness rom which I could not have deended herromwhich I could not even deend mysel.

6&hat a loss to meto us:she corrected hersel with beautiulgenerosity3 then added in a murmur, To the world. +y the last gleams o twilight I could see the glitter o her eyes, ull o tearso tears that wouldnot all.

6I have been very hayvery ortunatevery roud, she went on.Too ortunate. Too hay or a little while. !nd now I am unhay ororlie.

67he stood u3 her air hair seemed to catch all the remaining lightin a glimmer o gold. I rose, too.

6!nd o all this, she went on mournully, o all his romise, and o all his greatness, o his generous mind, o his noble heart, nothing remainsnothing but a memory. @ou and I

6&e shall always remember him, I said hastily.6No: she cried. It is imossible that all this should be lostthat

such a lie should be sacri*ced to leave nothingbut sorrow. @ou knowwhat vast lans he had. I knew o them, tooI could not erhasunderstandbut others knew o them. 7omething must remain. )is words,

at least, have not died.6)is words will remain, I said.



62

6!nd his e/amle, she whisered to hersel. 0en looked u to himhis goodness shone in every act. )is e/amle

6True, I said3 his e/amle, too. @es, his e/amle. I orgot that.6+ut I do not. I cannotI cannot believenot yet. I cannot believe

that I shall never see him again, that nobody will see him again, never,

never, never.67he ut out her arms as i ater a retreating *gure, stretching them

back and with clased ale hands across the ading and narrow sheen o the window. Never see him: I saw him clearly enough then. I shall see thiselo2uent hantom as long as I live, and I shall see her, too, a tragic andamiliar 7hade, resembling in this gesture another one, tragic also, andbedecked with owerless charms, stretching bare brown arms over theglitter o the inernal stream, the stream o darkness. 7he said suddenlyvery low, )e died as he lived.

6)is end, said I, with dull anger stirring in me, was in every wayworthy o his lie.

6!nd I was not with him, she murmured. 0y anger subsided beorea eeling o in*nite ity.

64verything that could be done I mumbled.6!h, but I believed in him more than any one on earthmore than

his own mother, more thanhimsel. )e needed me: 0e: I would havetreasured every sigh, every word, every sign, every glance.

6I elt like a chill gri on my chest. $ont, I said, in a mu5ed voice.61orgive me. II have mourned so long in silencein silence.... @ou

were with himto the last? I think o his loneliness. Nobody near tounderstand him as I would have understood. Aerhas no one to hear....

6To the very end, I said, shakily. I heard his very last words.... Istoed in a right.

6=eeat them, she murmured in a heart-broken tone. I wantIwantsomethingsomethingtoto live with.

6I was on the oint o crying at her, $ont you hear them? The duskwas reeating them in a ersistent whiser all around us, in a whiser thatseemed to swell menacingly like the *rst whiser o a rising wind. Thehorror: The horror:

6)is last wordto live with, she insisted. $ont you understand Iloved himI loved himI loved him:

6I ulled mysel together and soke slowly.

6The last word he ronounced wasyour name.6I heard a light sigh and then my heart stood still, stoed dead

short by an e/ulting and terrible cry, by the cry o inconceivable triumhand o unseakable ain. I knew itI was sure:... 7he knew. 7he wassure. I heard her weeing3 she had hidden her ace in her hands. Itseemed to me that the house would collase beore I could escae, thatthe heavens would all uon my head. +ut nothing haened. Theheavens do not all or such a trife. &ould they have allen, I wonder, i Ihad rendered >urt" that justice which was his due? )adnt he said hewanted only justice? +ut I couldnt. I could not tell her. It would have been

too darktoo dark altogether....6



63

0arlow ceased, and sat aart, indistinct and silent, in the ose o ameditating +uddha. Nobody moved or a time. 6&e have lost the *rst o the ebb,6 said the $irector suddenly. I raised my head. The ong wasbarred by a black bank o clouds, and the tran2uil waterway leading to theuttermost ends o the earth fowed sombre under an overcast sky

seemed to lead into the heart o an immense darkness.

Documents

Conrad,Heart of Darkness