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<FONT COLOR="MAROON"><h1 align="CENTER">The Most Dangerous Game</h1>
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<h3 align="CENTER">Richard Connell</h3> </font> <div align="left">
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<p> </p>
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<P> "Off there to the right—somewhere—is a large island," said
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Whitney. "It's rather a mystery—" </P>
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<P> "What island is it?" Rainsford asked. "The old charts call it
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Ship-Trap Island,"' Whitney replied. "A suggestive name, isn't it?
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Sailors have a curious dread of the place. I don't know why. Some
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superstition—" </P>
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<P> "Can't see it," remarked Rainsford, trying to peer through the dank
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tropical night that was palpable as it pressed its thick warm blackness
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in upon the yacht. </P>
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<P> "You've good eyes," said Whitney, with a laugh, "and I've seen you
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pick off a moose moving in the brown fall bush at four hundred yards,
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but even you can't see four miles or so through a moonless Caribbean
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night." </P>
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<P> "Nor four yards," admitted Rainsford. "Ugh! It's like moist black
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velvet." </P>
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<P> "It will be light enough in Rio," promised Whitney. "We should make
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it in a few days. I hope the jaguar guns have come from Purdey's. We
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should have some good hunting up the Amazon. Great sport, hunting." </P>
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<P> "The best sport in the world," agreed Rainsford. </P>
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<P> "For the hunter," amended Whitney. "Not for the jaguar." </P>
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<P> "Don't talk rot, Whitney," said Rainsford. "You're a big-game
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hunter, not a philosopher. </P>
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<P> Who cares how a jaguar feels?" </P>
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<P> "Perhaps the jaguar does," observed Whitney. </P>
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<P> "Bah! They've no understanding." </P>
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<P> "Even so, I rather think they understand one thing—fear. The fear
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of pain and the fear of death." </P>
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<P> "Nonsense," laughed Rainsford. "This hot weather is making you
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soft, Whitney. Be a realist. The world is made up of two classes—the
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hunters and the huntees. Luckily, you and I are hunters. Do you think
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we've passed that island yet?" </P>
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<P> "I can't tell in the dark. I hope so." </P>
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<P> "Why? " asked Rainsford. </P>
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<P> "The place has a reputation—a bad one." </P>
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<P> "Cannibals?" suggested Rainsford. </P>
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<P> "Hardly. Even cannibals wouldn't live in such a God-forsaken place.
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But it's gotten into sailor lore, somehow. Didn't you notice that the
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crew's nerves seemed a bit jumpy today?" </P>
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<P> "They were a bit strange, now you mention it. Even Captain
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Nielsen—" </P>
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<P> "Yes, even that tough-minded old Swede, who'd go up to the devil
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himself and ask him for a light. Those fishy blue eyes held a look I
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never saw there before. All I could get out of him was `This place has
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an evil name among seafaring men, sir.' Then he said to me, very
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gravely, `Don't you feel anything?'—as if the air about us was
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actually poisonous. Now, you mustn't laugh when I tell you this—I did
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feel something like a sudden chill. </P>
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<P> "There was no breeze. The sea was as flat as a plate-glass window.
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We were drawing near the island then. What I felt was a—a mental
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chill; a sort of sudden dread." </P>
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<P> "Pure imagination," said Rainsford. </P>
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<P> "One superstitious sailor can taint the whole ship's company with
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his fear." </P>
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<P> "Maybe. But sometimes I think sailors have an extra sense that
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tells them when they are in danger. Sometimes I think evil is a
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tangible thing—with wave lengths, just as sound and light have. An
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evil place can, so to speak, broadcast vibrations of evil. Anyhow, I'm
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glad we're getting out of this zone. Well, I think I'll turn in now,
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Rainsford." </P>
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<P> "I'm not sleepy," said Rainsford. "I'm going to smoke another pipe
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up on the afterdeck." </P>
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<P> "Good night, then, Rainsford. See you at breakfast." </P>
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<P> "Right. Good night, Whitney." </P>
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<P> There was no sound in the night as Rainsford sat there but the
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muffled throb of the engine that drove the yacht swiftly through the
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darkness, and the swish and ripple of the wash of the propeller. </P>
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<P> Rainsford, reclining in a steamer chair, indolently puffed on his
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favourite brier. The sensuous drowsiness of the night was on him." It's
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so dark," he thought, "that I could sleep without closing my eyes; the
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night would be my eyelids—" </P>
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<P> An abrupt sound startled him. Off to the right he heard it, and his
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ears, expert in such matters, could not be mistaken. Again he heard the
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sound, and again. Somewhere, off in the blackness, someone had fired a
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gun three times. </P>
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<P> Rainsford sprang up and moved quickly to the rail, mystified. He
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strained his eyes in the direction from which the reports had come, but
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it was like trying to see through a blanket. </P>
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<P> He leaped upon the rail and balanced himself there, to get greater
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elevation; his pipe, striking a rope, was knocked from his mouth. He
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lunged for it; a short, hoarse cry came from his lips as he realised he
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had reached too far and had lost his balance. The cry was pinched off
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short as the blood-warm waters of the Caribbean Sea dosed over his
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head. </P>
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<P> He struggled up to the surface and tried to cry out, but the wash
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from the speeding yacht slapped him in the face and the salt water in
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his open mouth made him gag and strangle. Desperately he struck out
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with strong strokes after the receding lights of the yacht, but he
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stopped before he had swum fifty feet. A certain coolheadedness had
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come to him; it was not the first time he had been in a tight place.
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There was a chance that his cries could be heard by someone aboard the
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yacht, but that chance was slender and grew more slender as the yacht
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raced on. He wrestled himself out of his clothes and shouted with all
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his power. </P>
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<P> The lights of the yacht became faint and ever-vanishing fireflies;
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then they were blotted out entirely by the night. </P>
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<P> Rainsford remembered the shots. They had come from the right, and
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doggedly he swam in that direction, swimming with slow, deliberate
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strokes, conserving his strength. For a seemingly endless time he
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fought the sea. He began to count his strokes; he could do possibly a
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hundred more and then— Rainsford heard a sound. It came out of the
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darkness, a high screaming sound, the sound of an animal in an
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extremity of anguish and terror. </P>
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<P> He did not recognise the animal that made the sound; he did not try
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to; with fresh vitality he swam toward the sound. He heard it again;
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then it was cut short by another noise, crisp, staccato. </P>
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<P> "Pistol shot," muttered Rainsford, swimming on. </P>
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<P> Ten minutes of determined effort brought another sound to his ears
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- the most welcome he had ever heard—the muttering and growling of
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the sea breaking on a rocky shore. He was almost on the rocks before he
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saw them; on a night less calm he would have been shattered against
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them. With his remaining strength he dragged himself from the swirling
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waters. Jagged crags appeared to jut up into the opaqueness; he forced
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himself upward, hand over hand. Gasping, his hands raw, he reached a
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flat place at the top. Dense jungle came down to the very edge of the
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cliffs. What perils that tangle of trees and underbrush might hold for
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him did not concern Rainsford just then. All he knew was that he was
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safe from his enemy, the sea, and that utter weariness was on him. He
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flung himself down at the jungle edge and tumbled headlong into the
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deepest sleep of his life. </P>
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<P> When he opened his eyes he knew from the position of the sun that
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it was late in the afternoon. Sleep had given him new vigour; a sharp
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hunger was picking at him. He looked about him, almost cheerfully. </P>
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<P> "Where there are pistol shots, there are men. Where there are men,
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there is food," he thought. But what kind of men, he wondered, in so
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forbidding a place? An unbroken front of snarled and ragged jungle
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fringed the shore. </P>
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<P> He saw no sign of a trail through the closely knit web of weeds and
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trees; it was easier to go along the shore, and Rainsford floundered
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along by the water. Not far from where he landed, he stopped. </P>
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<P> Some wounded thing—by the evidence, a large animal—had thrashed
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about in the underbrush; the jungle weeds were crushed down and the
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moss was lacerated; one patch of weeds was stained crimson. A small,
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glittering object not far away caught Rainsford's eye and he picked it
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up. It was an empty cartridge. </P>
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<P> "A twenty-two," he remarked. "That's odd. It must have been a
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fairly large animal too. </P>
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<P> The hunter had his nerve with him to tackle it with a light gun.
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It's clear that the brute put up a fight. I suppose the first three
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shots I heard was when the hunter flushed his quarry and wounded it.
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The last shot was when he trailed it here and finished it." </P>
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<P> He examined the ground closely and found what he had hoped to find
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- the print of hunting boots. They pointed along the cliff in the
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direction he had been going. Eagerly he hurried along, now slipping on
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a rotten log or a loose stone, but making headway; night was beginning
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to settle down on the island. </P>
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<P> Bleak darkness was blacking out the sea and jungle when Rainsford
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sighted the lights. He came upon them as he turned a crook in the coast
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line; and his first thought was that be had come upon a village, for
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there were many lights. But as he forged along he saw to his great
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astonishment that all the lights were in one enormous building—a
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lofty structure with pointed towers plunging upward into the gloom. His
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eyes made out the shadowy outlines of a palatial chateau; it was set on
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a high bluff, and on three sides of it cliffs dived down to where the
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sea licked greedy lips in the shadows. </P>
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<P> "Mirage," thought Rainsford. But it was no mirage, he found, when
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he opened the tall spiked iron gate. The stone steps were real enough;
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the massive door with a leering gargoyle for a knocker was real enough;
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yet above it all hung an air of unreality. </P>
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<P> He lifted the knocker, and it creaked up stiffly, as if it had
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never before been used. He let it fall, and it startled him with its
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booming loudness. He thought he heard steps within; the door remained
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closed. Again Rainsford lifted the heavy knocker, and let it fall. The
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door opened then—opened as suddenly as if it were on a spring—and
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Rainsford stood blinking in the river of glaring gold light that poured
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out. The first thing Rainsford's eyes discerned was the largest man
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Rainsford had ever seen—a gigantic creature, solidly made and black
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bearded to the waist. In his hand the man held a long-barrelled
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revolver, and he was pointing it straight at Rainsford's heart. </P>
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<P> Out of the snarl of beard two small eyes regarded Rainsford. </P>
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<P> "Don't be alarmed," said Rainsford, with a smile which he hoped was
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disarming. "I'm no robber. I fell off a yacht. My name is Sanger
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Rainsford of New York City." </P>
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<P> The menacing look in the eyes did not change. The revolver pointing
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as rigidly as if the giant were a statue. He gave no sign that he
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understood Rainsford's words, or that he had even heard them. He was
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dressed in uniform—a black uniform trimmed with grey astrakhan. </P>
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<P> "I'm Sanger Rainsford of New York," Rainsford began again. "I fell
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off a yacht. I am hungry." </P>
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<P> The man's only answer was to raise with his thumb the hammer of his
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revolver. Then Rainsford saw the man's free hand go to his forehead in
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a military salute, and he saw him click his heels together and stand at
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attention. Another man was coming down the broad marble steps, an
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erect, slender man in evening clothes. He advanced to Rainsford and
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held out his hand. </P>
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<P> In a cultivated voice marked by a slight accent that gave it added
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precision and deliberateness, he said, "It is a very great pleasure and
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honour to welcome Mr. Sanger Rainsford, the celebrated hunter, to my
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home." </P>
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<P> Automatically Rainsford shook the man's hand. </P>
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<P> "I've read your book about hunting snow leopards in Tibet, you
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see," explained the man. </P>
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<P> "I am General Zaroff." </P>
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<P> Rainsford's first impression was that the man was singularly
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handsome; his second was that there was an original, almost bizarre
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quality about the general's face. He was a tall man past middle age,
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for his hair was a vivid white; but his thick eyebrows and pointed
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military moustache were as black as the night from which Rainsford had
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come. His eyes, too, were black and very bright. He had high
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cheekbones, a sharpcut nose, a spare, dark face—the face of a man
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used to giving orders, the face of an aristocrat. Turning to the giant
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in uniform, the general made a sign. The giant put away his pistol,
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saluted, withdrew. </P>
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<P> "Ivan is an incredibly strong fellow," remarked the general, "but
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he has the misfortune to be deaf and dumb. A simple fellow, but, I'm
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afraid, like all his race, a bit of a savage." </P>
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<P> "Is he Russian?" </P>
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<P> "He is a Cossack," said the general, and his smile showed red lips
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and pointed teeth. "So am I." </P>
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<P> "Come," he said, "we shouldn't be chatting here. We can talk later.
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Now you want clothes, food, rest. You shall have them. This is a
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most-restful spot." </P>
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<P> Ivan had reappeared, and the general spoke to him with lips that
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moved but gave forth no sound. </P>
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<P> "Follow Ivan, if you please, Mr. Rainsford," said the general. "I
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was about to have my dinner when you came. I'll wait for you. You'll
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find that my clothes will fit you, I think." </P>
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<P> It was to a huge, beam-ceilinged bedroom with a canopied bed big
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enough for six men that Rainsford followed the silent giant. Ivan laid
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out an evening suit, and Rainsford, as he put it on, noticed that it
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came from a London tailor who ordinarily cut and sewed for none below
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the rank of duke. </P>
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<P> The dining room to which Ivan conducted him was in many ways
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remarkable. There was a medieval magnificence about it; it suggested a
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baronial hall of feudal times with its oaken panels, its high ceiling,
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its vast refectory tables where twoscore men could sit down to eat.
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About the hall were mounted heads of many animals—lions, tigers,
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elephants, moose, bears; larger or more perfect specimens Rainsford had
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never seen. At the great table the general was sitting, alone. </P>
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<P> "You'll have a cocktail, Mr. Rainsford," he suggested. The cocktail
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was surpassingly good; and, Rainsford noted, the table appointments
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were of the finest—the linen, the crystal, the silver, the china. </P>
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<P> They were eating borsch, the rich, red soup with whipped cream so
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dear to Russian palates. Half apologetically General Zaroff said, "We
|
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do our best to preserve the amenities of civilisation here. Please
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forgive any lapses. We are well off the beaten track, you know. Do you
|
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think the champagne has suffered from its long ocean trip?" </P>
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<P> "Not in the least," declared Rainsford. He was finding the general
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a most thoughtful and affable host, a true cosmopolite. But there was
|
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one small trait of .the general's that made Rainsford uncomfortable.
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Whenever he looked up from his plate he found the general studying him,
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appraising him narrowly. </P>
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<P> "Perhaps," said General Zaroff, "you were surprised that I
|
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recognised your name. You see, I read all books on hunting published in
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English, French, and Russian. I have but one passion in my life, Mr.
|
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Rains. ford, and it is the hunt." </P>
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<P> "You have some wonderful heads here," said Rainsford as he ate a
|
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particularly well-cooked filet mignon. " That Cape buffalo is the
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largest I ever saw." </P>
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<P> "Oh, that fellow. Yes, he was a monster." </P>
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<P> "Did he charge you?" </P>
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<P> "Hurled me against a tree," said the general. "Fractured my skull.
|
||
But I got the brute." </P>
|
||
<P> "I've always thought," said Rainsford, "that the Cape buffalo is
|
||
the most dangerous of all big game." </P>
|
||
<P> For a moment the general did not reply; he was smiling his curious
|
||
red-lipped smile. </P>
|
||
<P> Then he said slowly, "No. You are wrong, sir. The Cape buffalo is
|
||
not the most dangerous big game." He sipped his wine. "Here in my
|
||
preserve on this island," he said in the same slow tone, "I hunt more
|
||
dangerous game." </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford expressed his surprise. "Is there big game on this
|
||
island?" </P>
|
||
<P> The general nodded. "The biggest." </P>
|
||
<P> "Really?" </P>
|
||
<P> "Oh, it isn't here naturally, of course. I have to stock the
|
||
island." </P>
|
||
<P> "What have you imported, general?" Rainsford asked. "Tigers?" </P>
|
||
<P> The general smiled. "No," he said. "Hunting tigers ceased to
|
||
interest me some years ago. </P>
|
||
<P> I exhausted their possibilities, you see. No thrill left in tigers,
|
||
no real danger. I live for danger, Mr. Rainsford." </P>
|
||
<P> The general took from his pocket a gold cigarette case and offered
|
||
his guest a long black cigarette with a silver tip; it was perfumed and
|
||
gave off a smell like incense. </P>
|
||
<P> "We will have some capital hunting, you and I," said the general.
|
||
"I shall be most glad to have your society." </P>
|
||
<P> "But what game—" began Rainsford. </P>
|
||
<P> "I'll tell you," said the general. "You will be amused, I know. I
|
||
think I may say, in all modesty, that I have done a rare thing. I have
|
||
invented a new sensation. May I pour you another glass of port?" </P>
|
||
<P> "Thank you, general." </P>
|
||
<P> The general filled both glasses, and said, "God makes some men
|
||
poets. Some He makes kings, some beggars. Me He made a hunter. My hand
|
||
was made for the trigger, my father said. He was a very rich man with a
|
||
quarter of a million acres in the Crimea, and he was an ardent
|
||
sportsman. When I was only five years old he gave me a little gun,
|
||
specially made in Moscow for me, to shoot sparrows with. When I shot
|
||
some of his prize turkeys with it, he did not punish me; he
|
||
complimented me on my marksmanship. I killed my first bear in the
|
||
Caucasus when I was ten. My whole life has been one prolonged hunt. I
|
||
went into the army—it was expected of noblemen's sons—and for a
|
||
time commanded a division of Cossack cavalry, but my real interest was
|
||
always the hunt. I have hunted every kind of game in every land. It
|
||
would be impossible for me to tell you how many animals I have killed." </P>
|
||
<P> The general puffed at his cigarette. </P>
|
||
<P> "After the debacle in Russia I left the country, for it was
|
||
imprudent for an officer of the Czar to stay there. Many noble Russians
|
||
lost everything. I, luckily, had invested heavily in American
|
||
securities, so I shall never have to open a tea-room in Monte Carlo or
|
||
drive a taxi in Paris. Naturally, I continued to hunt—grizzliest in
|
||
your Rockies, crocodiles in the Ganges, rhinoceroses in East Africa. It
|
||
was in Africa that the Cape buffalo hit me and laid me up for six
|
||
months. As soon as I recovered I started for the Amazon to hunt
|
||
jaguars, for I had heard they were unusually cunning. They weren't."
|
||
The Cossack sighed. "They were no match at all for a hunter with his
|
||
wits about him, and a high-powered rifle. I was bitterly disappointed. </P>
|
||
<P> I was lying in my tent with a splitting headache one night when a
|
||
terrible thought pushed its way into my mind. Hunting was beginning to
|
||
bore me! And hunting, remember, had been my life. I have heard that in
|
||
America businessmen often go to pieces when they give up the business
|
||
that has been their life." </P>
|
||
<P> "Yes, that's so," said Rainsford. </P>
|
||
<P> The general smiled. "I had no wish to go to pieces," he said. "I
|
||
must do something. Now, mine is an analytical mind, Mr. Rainsford.
|
||
Doubtless that is why I enjoy the problems of the chase." </P>
|
||
<P> "No doubt, General Zaroff." </P>
|
||
<P> "So," continued the general, "I asked myself why the hunt no longer
|
||
fascinated me. You are much younger than I am, Mr. Rainsford, and have
|
||
not hunted as much, but you perhaps can guess the answer." </P>
|
||
<P> "What was it?" </P>
|
||
<P> "Simply this: hunting had ceased to be what you call `a sporting
|
||
proposition.' It had become too easy. I always got my quarry. Always.
|
||
There is no greater bore than perfection." </P>
|
||
<P> The general lit a fresh cigarette. </P>
|
||
<P> "No animal had a chance with me any more. That is no boast; it is a
|
||
mathematical certainty. The animal had nothing but his legs and his
|
||
instinct. Instinct is no match for reason. When I thought of this it
|
||
was a tragic moment for me, I can tell you." </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford leaned across the table, absorbed in what his host was
|
||
saying. </P>
|
||
<P> "It came to me as an inspiration what I must do," the general went
|
||
on. </P>
|
||
<P> "And that was?" </P>
|
||
<P> The general smiled the quiet smile of one who has faced an obstacle
|
||
and surmounted it with success. "I had to invent a new animal to hunt,"
|
||
he said. </P>
|
||
<P> "A new animal? You're joking." "Not at all," said the general. "I
|
||
never joke about hunting. I needed a new animal. I found one. So I
|
||
bought this island built this house, and here I do my hunting. The
|
||
island is perfect for my purposes—there are jungles with a maze of
|
||
traits in them, hills, swamps—" </P>
|
||
<P> "But the animal, General Zaroff?" </P>
|
||
<P> "Oh," said the general, "it supplies me with the most exciting
|
||
hunting in the world. No other hunting compares with it for an instant.
|
||
Every day I hunt, and I never grow bored now, for I have a quarry with
|
||
which I can match my wits." </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford's bewilderment showed in his face. </P>
|
||
<P> "I wanted the ideal animal to hunt," explained the general. "So I
|
||
said, `What are the attributes of an ideal quarry?' And the answer was,
|
||
of course, `It must have courage, cunning, and, above all, it must be
|
||
able to reason."' "But no animal can reason," objected Rainsford. </P>
|
||
<P> "My dear fellow," said the general, "there is one that can." </P>
|
||
<P> "But you can't mean—" gasped Rainsford. </P>
|
||
<P> "And why not?" </P>
|
||
<P> "I can't believe you are serious, General Zaroff. This is a grisly
|
||
joke." </P>
|
||
<P> "Why should I not be serious? I am speaking of hunting." </P>
|
||
<P> "Hunting? Great Guns, General Zaroff, what you speak of is murder." </P>
|
||
<P> The general laughed with entire good nature. He regarded Rainsford
|
||
quizzically. "I refuse to believe that so modern and civilised a young
|
||
man as you seem to be harbours romantic ideas about the value of human
|
||
life. Surely your experiences in the war—" </P>
|
||
<P> "Did not make me condone cold-blooded murder," finished Rainsford
|
||
stiffly. </P>
|
||
<P> Laughter shook the general. "How extraordinarily droll you are!" he
|
||
said. "One does not expect nowadays to find a young man of the educated
|
||
class, even in America, with such a naive, and, if I may say so,
|
||
mid-Victorian point of view. It's like finding a snuffbox in a
|
||
limousine. Ah, well, doubtless you had Puritan ancestors. So many
|
||
Americans appear to have had. I'll wager you'll forget your notions
|
||
when you go hunting with me. You've a genuine new thrill in store for
|
||
you, Mr. Rainsford." </P>
|
||
<P> "Thank you, I'm a hunter, not a murderer." </P>
|
||
<P> "Dear me," said the general, quite unruffled, "again that
|
||
unpleasant word. But I think I can show you that your scruples are
|
||
quite ill founded." </P>
|
||
<P> "Yes?" </P>
|
||
<P> "Life is for the strong, to be lived by the strong, and, if needs
|
||
be, taken by the strong. </P>
|
||
<P> The weak of the world were put here to give the strong pleasure. I
|
||
am strong. Why should I not use my gift? If I wish to hunt, why should
|
||
I not? I hunt the scum of the earth: sailors from tramp ships—
|
||
lassars, blacks, Chinese, whites, mongrels—a thoroughbred horse or
|
||
hound is worth more than a score of them." </P>
|
||
<P> "But they are men," said Rainsford hotly. </P>
|
||
<P> "Precisely," said the general. "That is why I use them. It gives me
|
||
pleasure. They can reason, after a fashion. So they are dangerous." </P>
|
||
<P> "But where do you get them?" </P>
|
||
<P> The general's left eyelid fluttered down in a wink. "This island is
|
||
called Ship Trap," he answered. "Sometimes an angry god of the high
|
||
seas sends them to me. Sometimes, when Providence is not so kind, I
|
||
help Providence a bit. Come to the window with me." </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford went to the window and looked out toward the sea. </P>
|
||
<P> "Watch! Out there!" exclaimed the general, pointing into the night.
|
||
Rainsford's eyes saw only blackness, and then, as the general pressed a
|
||
button, far out to sea Rainsford saw the flash of lights. </P>
|
||
<P> The general chuckled. "They indicate a channel," he said, "where
|
||
there's none; giant rocks with razor edges crouch like a sea monster
|
||
with wide-open jaws. They can crush a ship as easily as I crush this
|
||
nut." He dropped a walnut on the hardwood floor and brought his heel
|
||
grinding down on it. "Oh, yes," he said, casually, as if in answer to a
|
||
question, "I have electricity. We try to be civilised here." </P>
|
||
<P> "Civilised? And you shoot down men?" </P>
|
||
<P> A trace of anger was in the general's black eyes, but it was there
|
||
for but a second; and he said, in his most pleasant manner, "Dear me,
|
||
what a righteous young man you are! I assure you I do not do the thing
|
||
you suggest. That would be barbarous. I treat these visitors with every
|
||
consideration. They get plenty of good food and exercise. They get into
|
||
splendid physical condition. You shall see for yourself tomorrow." </P>
|
||
<P> "What do you mean?" </P>
|
||
<P> "We'll visit my training school," smiled the general. "It's in the
|
||
cellar. I have about a dozen pupils down there now. They're from the
|
||
Spanish bark San Lucar that had the bad luck to go on the rocks out
|
||
there. A very inferior lot, I regret to say. Poor specimens and more
|
||
accustomed to the deck than to the jungle." He raised his hand, and
|
||
Ivan, who served as waiter, brought thick Turkish coffee. Rainsford,
|
||
with an effort, held his tongue in check. </P>
|
||
<P> "It's a game, you see," pursued the general blandly. "I suggest to
|
||
one of them that we go hunting. I give him a supply of food and an
|
||
excellent hunting knife. I give him three hours' start. I am to follow,
|
||
armed only with a pistol of the smallest calibre and range. If my
|
||
quarry eludes me for three whole days, he wins the game. If I find him
|
||
"—the general smiled—" he loses." </P>
|
||
<P> "Suppose he refuses to be hunted?" </P>
|
||
<P> "Oh," said the general, "I give him his option, of course. He need
|
||
not play that game if he doesn't wish to. If he does not wish to hunt,
|
||
I turn him over to Ivan. Ivan once had the honour of serving as
|
||
official knouter to the Great White Czar, and he has his own ideas of
|
||
sport. Invariably, Mr. Rainsford, invariably they choose the hunt." </P>
|
||
<P> "And if they win?" </P>
|
||
<P> The smile on the general's face widened. "To date I have not lost,"
|
||
he said. Then he added, hastily: "I don't wish you to think me a
|
||
braggart, Mr. Rainsford. Many of them afford only the most elementary
|
||
sort of problem. Occasionally I strike a tartar. One almost did win. </P>
|
||
<P> I eventually had to use the dogs." </P>
|
||
<P> "The dogs?" </P>
|
||
<P> "This way, please. I'll show you." </P>
|
||
<P> The general steered Rainsford to a window. The lights from the
|
||
windows sent a flickering illumination that made grotesque patterns on
|
||
the courtyard below, and Rainsford could see moving about there a dozen
|
||
or so huge black shapes; as they turned toward him, their eyes
|
||
glittered greenly. </P>
|
||
<P> "A rather good lot, I think," observed the general. "They are let
|
||
out at seven every night. </P>
|
||
<P> If anyone should try to get into my house—or out of it—
|
||
something extremely regrettable would occur to him." He hummed a snatch
|
||
of song from the Folies Bergere. </P>
|
||
<P> "And now," said the general, "I want to show you my new collection
|
||
of heads. Will you come with me to the library?" </P>
|
||
<P> "I hope," said Rainsford, "that you will excuse me tonight, General
|
||
Zaroff. I'm really not feeling well." </P>
|
||
<P> "Ah, indeed?" the general inquired solicitously. "Well, I suppose
|
||
that's only natural, after your long swim. You need a good, restful
|
||
night's sleep. Tomorrow you'll feel like a new man, I'll wager. Then
|
||
we'll hunt, eh? I've one rather promising prospect—" Rainsford was
|
||
hurrying from the room. </P>
|
||
<P> "Sorry you can't go with me tonight," called the general. "I expect
|
||
rather fair sport—a big, strong, black. He looks resourceful—Well,
|
||
good night, Mr. Rainsford; I hope you have a good night's rest." </P>
|
||
<P> The bed was good, and the pyjamas of the softest silk, and he was
|
||
tired in every fibre of his being, but nevertheless Rainsford could not
|
||
quiet his brain with the opiate of sleep. He lay, eyes wide open. Once
|
||
he thought he heard stealthy steps in the corridor outside his room. He
|
||
sought to throw open the door; it would not open. He went to the window
|
||
and looked out. His room was high up in one of the towers. The lights
|
||
of the chateau were out now, and it was dark and silent; but there was
|
||
a fragment of sallow moon, and by its wan light he could see, dimly,
|
||
the courtyard. There, weaving in and out in the pattern of shadow, were
|
||
black, noiseless forms; the hounds heard him at the window and looked
|
||
up, expectantly, with their green eyes. Rainsford went back to the bed
|
||
and lay down. By many methods he tried to put himself to sleep. He had
|
||
achieved a doze when, just as morning began to come, he heard, far off
|
||
in the jungle, the faint report of a pistol. </P>
|
||
<P> General Zaroff did not appear until luncheon. He was dressed
|
||
faultlessly in the tweeds of a country squire. He was solicitous about
|
||
the state of Rainsford's health. </P>
|
||
<P> "As for me," sighed the general, "I do not feel so well. I am
|
||
worried, Mr. Rainsford. Last night I detected traces of my old
|
||
complaint." </P>
|
||
<P> To Rainsford's questioning glance the general said, "Ennui.
|
||
Boredom." </P>
|
||
<P> Then, taking a second helping of crpes Suzette, the general
|
||
explained: "The hunting was not good last night. The fellow lost his
|
||
head. He made a straight trail that offered no problems at all. That's
|
||
the trouble with these sailors; they have dull brains to begin with,
|
||
and they do not know how to get about in the woods. They do excessively
|
||
stupid and obvious things. It's most annoying. Will you have another
|
||
glass of Chablis, Mr. Rainsford?" </P>
|
||
<P> "General," said Rainsford firmly, "I wish to leave this island at
|
||
once." </P>
|
||
<P> The general raised his thickets of eyebrows; he seemed hurt. "But,
|
||
my dear fellow," the general protested, "you've only just come. You've
|
||
had no hunting—" </P>
|
||
<P> "I wish to go today," said Rainsford. He saw the dead black eyes of
|
||
the general on him, studying him. General Zaroff's face suddenly
|
||
brightened. </P>
|
||
<P> He filled Rainsford's glass with venerable Chablis from a dusty
|
||
bottle. </P>
|
||
<P> "Tonight," said the general, "we will hunt—you and I." </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford shook his head. "No, general," he said. "I will not
|
||
hunt." </P>
|
||
<P> The general shrugged his shoulders and delicately ate a hothouse
|
||
grape. "As you wish, my friend," he said. "The choice rests entirely
|
||
with you. But may I not venture to suggest that you will find my idea
|
||
of sport more diverting than Ivan's?" </P>
|
||
<P> He nodded toward the corner to where the giant stood, scowling, his
|
||
thick arms crossed on his hogshead of chest. </P>
|
||
<P> "You don't mean—" cried Rainsford. </P>
|
||
<P> "My dear fellow," said the general, "have I not told you I always
|
||
mean what I say about hunting? This is really an inspiration. I drink
|
||
to a foeman worthy of my steel—at last." The general raised his
|
||
glass, but Rainsford sat staring at him. </P>
|
||
<P> "You'll find this game worth playing," the general said
|
||
enthusiastically." Your brain against mine. Your woodcraft against
|
||
mine. Your strength and stamina against mine. </P>
|
||
<P> Outdoor chess! And the stake is not without value, eh?" </P>
|
||
<P> "And if I win—" began Rainsford huskily. </P>
|
||
<P> "I'll cheerfully acknowledge myself defeat if I do not find you by
|
||
midnight of the third day," said General Zaroff. "My sloop will place
|
||
you on the mainland near a town." The general read what Rainsford was
|
||
thinking. </P>
|
||
<P> "Oh, you can trust me," said the Cossack. "I will give you my word
|
||
as a gentleman and a sportsman. Of course you, in turn, must agree to
|
||
say nothing of your visit here." </P>
|
||
<P> "I'll agree to nothing of the kind," said Rainsford. </P>
|
||
<P> "Oh," said the general, "in that case—But why discuss that now?
|
||
Three days hence we can discuss it over a bottle of Veuve Cliquot,
|
||
unless—" </P>
|
||
<P> The general sipped his wine. </P>
|
||
<P> Then a businesslike air animated him. "Ivan," he said to Rainsford,
|
||
"will supply you with hunting clothes, food, a knife. I suggest you
|
||
wear moccasins; they leave a poorer trail. I suggest, too, that you
|
||
avoid the big swamp in the southeast corner of the island. We call it
|
||
Death Swamp. There's quicksand there. One foolish fellow tried it. The
|
||
deplorable part of it was that Lazarus followed him. You can imagine my
|
||
feelings, Mr. Rainsford. I loved Lazarus; he was the finest hound in my
|
||
pack. Well, I must beg you to excuse me now. I always' take a siesta
|
||
after lunch. You'll hardly have time for a nap, I fear. You'll want to
|
||
start, no doubt. I shall not follow till dusk. Hunting at night is so
|
||
much more exciting than by day, don't you think? Au revoir, Mr.
|
||
Rainsford, au revoir." General Zaroff, with a deep, courtly bow,
|
||
strolled from the room. </P>
|
||
<P> From another door came Ivan. Under one arm he carried khaki hunting
|
||
clothes, a haversack of food, a leather sheath containing a long-bladed
|
||
hunting knife; his right hand rested on a cocked revolver thrust in the
|
||
crimson sash about his waist. </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford had fought his way through the bush for two hours. "I
|
||
must keep my nerve. I must keep my nerve," he said through tight teeth. </P>
|
||
<P> He had not been entirely clearheaded when the chateau gates snapped
|
||
shut behind him. </P>
|
||
<P> His whole idea at first was to put distance between himself and
|
||
General Zaroff; and, to this end, he had plunged along, spurred on by
|
||
the sharp rowers of something very like panic. </P>
|
||
<P> Now he had got a grip on himself, had stopped, and was taking stock
|
||
of himself and the situation. He saw that straight flight was futile;
|
||
inevitably it would bring him face to face with the sea. He was in a
|
||
picture with a frame of water, and his operations, clearly, must take
|
||
place within that frame. </P>
|
||
<P> "I'll give him a trail to follow," muttered Rainsford, and he
|
||
struck off from the rude path he had been following into the trackless
|
||
wilderness. He executed a series of intricate loops; he doubled on his
|
||
trail again and again, recalling all the lore of the fox hunt, and all
|
||
the dodges of the fox. Night found him leg-weary, with hands and face
|
||
lashed by the branches, on a thickly wooded ridge. He knew it would be
|
||
insane to blunder on through the dark, even if he had the strength. His
|
||
need for rest was imperative and he thought, "I have played the fox,
|
||
now I must play the cat of the fable." A big tree with a thick trunk
|
||
and outspread branches was near by, and, taking care to leave not the
|
||
slightest mark, he climbed up into the crotch, and, stretching out on
|
||
one of the broad limbs, after a fashion, rested. Rest brought him new
|
||
confidence and almost a feeling of security. Even so zealous a hunter
|
||
as General Zaroff could not trace him there, he told himself; only the
|
||
devil himself could follow that complicated trail through the jungle
|
||
after dark. But perhaps the general was a devil— An apprehensive night
|
||
crawled slowly by like a wounded snake and sleep did not visit
|
||
Rainsford, although the silence of a dead world was on the jungle.
|
||
Toward morning when a dingy grey was varnishing the sky, the cry of
|
||
some startled bird focused Rainsford's attention in that direction.
|
||
Something was coming through the bush, coming slowly, carefully, coming
|
||
by the same winding way Rainsford had come. He flattened himself down
|
||
on the limb and, through a screen of leaves almost as thick as
|
||
tapestry, he watched. . . . That which was approaching was a man. </P>
|
||
<P> It was General Zaroff. He made his way along with his eyes fixed in
|
||
utmost concentration on the ground before him. He paused, almost
|
||
beneath the tree, dropped to his knees and studied the ground.
|
||
Rainsford's impulse was to hurl himself down like a panther, but he saw
|
||
that the general's right hand held something metallic—a small
|
||
automatic pistol. </P>
|
||
<P> The hunter shook his head several times, as if he were puzzled.
|
||
Then he straightened up and took from his case one of his black
|
||
cigarettes; its pungent incenselike smoke floated up to Rainsford's
|
||
nostrils. </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford held his breath. The general's eyes had left the ground
|
||
and were travelling inch by inch up the tree. Rainsford froze there,
|
||
every muscle tensed for a spring. But the sharp eyes of the hunter
|
||
stopped before they reached the limb where Rainsford lay; a smile
|
||
spread over his brown face. Very deliberately he blew a smoke ring into
|
||
the air; then he turned his back on the tree and walked carelessly
|
||
away, back along the trail he had come. The swish of the underbrush
|
||
against his hunting boots grew fainter and fainter. </P>
|
||
<P> The pent-up air burst hotly from Rainsford's lungs. His first
|
||
thought made him feel sick and numb. The general could follow a trail
|
||
through the woods at night; he could follow an extremely difficult
|
||
trail; he must have uncanny powers; only by the merest chance had the
|
||
Cossack failed to see his quarry. </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford's second thought was even more terrible. It sent a
|
||
shudder of cold horror through his whole being. Why had the general
|
||
smiled? Why had he turned back?p </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford did not want to believe what his reason told him was
|
||
true, but the truth was as evident as the sun that had by now pushed
|
||
through the morning mists. The general was playing with him! The
|
||
general was saving him for another day's sport! The Cossack was the
|
||
cat; he was the mouse. Then it was that Rainsford knew the full meaning
|
||
of terror. </P>
|
||
<P> "I will not lose my nerve. I will not." </P>
|
||
<P> He slid down from the tree, and struck off again into the woods.
|
||
His face was set and he forced the machinery of his mind to function.
|
||
Three hundred yards from his hiding place he stopped where a huge dead
|
||
tree leaned precariously on a smaller, living one. Throwing off his
|
||
sack of food, Rainsford took his knife from its sheath and began to
|
||
work with all his energy. </P>
|
||
<P> The job was finished at last, and he threw himself down behind a
|
||
fallen log a hundred feet away. He did not have to wait long. The cat
|
||
was coming again to play with the mouse. </P>
|
||
<P> Following the trail with the sureness of a bloodhound came General
|
||
Zaroff. Nothing escaped those searching black eyes, no crushed blade of
|
||
grass, no bent twig, no mark, no matter how faint, in the moss. So
|
||
intent was the Cossack on his stalking that he was upon the thing
|
||
Rainsford had made before he saw it. His foot touched the protruding
|
||
bough that was the trigger. Even as he touched it, the general sensed
|
||
his danger and leaped back with the agility of an ape. But he was not
|
||
quite quick enough; the dead tree, delicately adjusted to rest on the
|
||
cut living one, crashed down and struck the general a glancing blow on
|
||
the shoulder as it fell; but for his alertness, he must have been
|
||
smashed beneath it. He staggered, but he did not fall; nor did he drop
|
||
his revolver. He stood there, rubbing his injured shoulder, and
|
||
Rainsford, with fear again gripping his heart, heard the general's
|
||
mocking laugh ring through the jungle. </P>
|
||
<P> "Rainsford," called the general, "if you are within sound of my
|
||
voice, as I suppose you are, let me congratulate you. Not many men know
|
||
how to make a Malay mancatcher. </P>
|
||
<P> Luckily for me I, too, have hunted in Malacca. You are proving
|
||
interesting, Mr. Rainsford. I am going now to have my wound dressed;
|
||
it's only a slight one. But I shall be back. I shall be back." </P>
|
||
<P> When the general, nursing his bruised shoulder, had gone, Rainsford
|
||
took up his flight again. It was flight now, a desperate, hopeless
|
||
flight, that carried him on for some hours. </P>
|
||
<P> Dusk came, then darkness, and still he pressed on. The ground grew
|
||
softer under his moccasins; the vegetation grew ranker, denser; insects
|
||
bit him savagely. </P>
|
||
<P> Then, as he stepped forward, his foot sank into the ooze. He tried
|
||
to wrench it back, but the muck sucked viciously at his foot as if it
|
||
were a giant leech. With a violent effort, he tore his feet loose. He
|
||
knew where he was now. Death Swamp and its quicksand. </P>
|
||
<P> His hands were tight closed as if his nerve were something tangible
|
||
that someone in the darkness was trying to tear from his grip. The
|
||
softness of the earth had given him an idea. </P>
|
||
<P> He stepped back from the quicksand a dozen feet or so and, like
|
||
some huge prehistoric beaver, he began to dig. </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford had dug himself in in France when a second's delay meant
|
||
death. That had been a placid pastime compared to his digging now. The
|
||
pit grew deeper; when it was above his shoulders, he climbed out and
|
||
from some hard saplings cut stakes and sharpened them to a fine point.
|
||
These stakes he planted in the bottom of the pit with the points
|
||
sticking up. </P>
|
||
<P> With flying fingers he wove a rough carpet of weeds and branches
|
||
and with it he covered the mouth of the pit. Then, wet with sweat and
|
||
aching with tiredness, he crouched behind the stump of a
|
||
lightning-charred tree. </P>
|
||
<P> He knew his pursuer was coming; he heard the padding sound of feet
|
||
on the soft earth, and the night breeze brought him the perfume of the
|
||
general's cigarette. It seemed to Rainsford that the general was coming
|
||
with unusual swiftness; he was not feeling his way along, foot by foot.
|
||
Rainsford, crouching there, could not see the general, nor could he see
|
||
the pit. He lived a year in a minute. Then he felt an impulse to cry
|
||
aloud with joy, for he heard the sharp crackle of the breaking branches
|
||
as the cover of the pit gave way; he heard the sharp scream of pain as
|
||
the pointed stakes found their mark. He leaped up from his place of
|
||
concealment. Then he cowered back. Three feet from the pit a man was
|
||
standing, with an electric torch in his hand. </P>
|
||
<P> "You've done well, Rainsford," the voice of the general called.
|
||
"Your Burmese tiger pit has claimed one of my best dogs. Again you
|
||
score. I think, Mr. Rainsford, I'll see what you can do against my
|
||
whole pack. I'm going home for a rest now. Thank you for a most amusing
|
||
evening." </P>
|
||
<P> At daybreak Rainsford, lying near the swamp, was awakened by a
|
||
sound that made him know that he had new things to learn about fear. It
|
||
was a distant sound, faint and wavering, but he knew it. It was the
|
||
baying of a pack of hounds. </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford knew he could do one of two things. He could stay where
|
||
he was and wait. </P>
|
||
<P> That was suicide. He could flee. That was postponing the
|
||
inevitable. For a moment he stood there, thinking. An idea that held a
|
||
wild chance came to him, and, tightening his belt, he headed away from
|
||
the swamp. </P>
|
||
<P> The baying of the hounds drew nearer, then still nearer, nearer,
|
||
ever nearer. On a ridge Rainsford climbed a tree. Down a watercourse,
|
||
not a quarter of a mile away, he could see the bush moving. Straining
|
||
his eyes, he saw the lean figure of General Zaroff; just ahead of him
|
||
Rainsford made out another figure whose wide shoulders surged through
|
||
the tall jungle weeds; it was the giant Ivan, and he seemed pulled
|
||
forward by some unseen force; Rainsford knew that Ivan must be holding
|
||
the pack in leash. </P>
|
||
<P> They would be on him any minute now. His mind worked frantically.
|
||
He thought of a native trick he had learned in Uganda. He slid down the
|
||
tree. He caught hold of a springy young sapling and to it he fastened
|
||
his hunting knife, with the blade pointing down the trail; with a bit
|
||
of wild grapevine he tied back the sapling. Then he ran for his life.
|
||
The hounds raised their voices as they hit the fresh scent. Rainsford
|
||
knew now how an animal at bay feels. </P>
|
||
<P> He had to stop to get his breath. The baying of the hounds stopped
|
||
abruptly, and Rainsford's heart stopped too. They must have reached the
|
||
knife. </P>
|
||
<P> He shinned excitedly up a tree and looked back. His pursuers had
|
||
stopped. But the hope that was in Rainsford's brain when he climbed
|
||
died, for he saw in the shallow valley that General Zaroff was still on
|
||
his feet. But Ivan was not. The knife, driven by the recoil of the
|
||
springing tree, had not wholly failed. </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford had hardly tumbled to the ground when the pack took up
|
||
the cry again. </P>
|
||
<P> "Nerve, nerve, nerve!" he panted, as he dashed along. A blue gap
|
||
showed between the trees dead ahead. Ever nearer drew the hounds.
|
||
Rainsford forced himself on toward that gap. He reached it. It was the
|
||
shore of the sea. Across a cove he could see the gloomy grey stone of
|
||
the chateau. Twenty feet below him the sea rumbled and hissed.
|
||
Rainsford hesitated. </P>
|
||
<P> He heard the hounds. Then he leaped far out into the sea. . . . </P>
|
||
<P> When the general and his pack reached the place by the sea, the
|
||
Cossack stopped. For some minutes he stood regarding the blue-green
|
||
expanse of water. He shrugged his shoulders. Then be sat down, took a
|
||
drink of brandy from a silver flask, lit a cigarette, and hummed a bit
|
||
from Madame Butterfly. </P>
|
||
<P> General Zaroff had an exceedingly good dinner in his great panelled
|
||
dining hall that evening. With it he had a bottle of Pol Roger and half
|
||
a bottle of Chambertin. Two slight annoyances kept him from perfect
|
||
enjoyment. One was the thought that it would be difficult to replace
|
||
Ivan; the other was that his quarry had escaped him; of course, the
|
||
American hadn't played the game—so thought the general as he tasted
|
||
his after-dinner liqueur. In his library he read, to soothe himself,
|
||
from the works of Marcus Aurelius. At ten he went up to his bedroom. He
|
||
was deliciously tired, he said to himself, as he locked himself in.
|
||
There was a little moonlight, so, before turning on his light, he went
|
||
to the window and looked down at the courtyard. He could see the great
|
||
hounds, and he called, "Better luck another time," to them. Then he
|
||
switched on the light. </P>
|
||
<P> A man, who had been hiding in the curtains of the bed, was standing
|
||
there. </P>
|
||
<P> "Rainsford!" screamed the general. "How in God's name did you get
|
||
here?" </P>
|
||
<P> "Swam," said Rainsford. "I found it quicker than walking through
|
||
the jungle." </P>
|
||
<P> The general sucked in his breath and smiled. "I congratulate you,"
|
||
he said. "You have won the game." </P>
|
||
<P> Rainsford did not smile. "I am still a beast at bay," he said, in a
|
||
low, hoarse voice. "Get ready, General Zaroff." </P>
|
||
<P> The general made one of his deepest bows. "I see," he said.
|
||
"Splendid! One of us is to furnish a repast for the hounds. The other
|
||
will sleep in this very excellent bed. On guard, Rainsford." . . . </P>
|
||
<P> He had never slept in a better bed, Rainsford decided. </P>
|
||
<P></P>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p> </p>
|
||
<p> </p>
|
||
<p align="center">The End.</p>
|
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