Frenzied Fiction

  VI. To Nature and Back Again

  It was probably owing to the fact that my place of lodgment in New Yorkoverlooked the waving trees of Central Park that I was consumed, all thesummer through, with a great longing for the woods. To me, as a lover ofNature, the waving of a tree conveys thoughts which are never conveyedto me except by seeing a tree wave.

  This longing grew upon me. I became restless with it. In the daytimeI dreamed over my work. At night my sleep was broken and restless. Attimes I would even wander forth, at night into the park, and there, deepin the night shadow of the trees, imagine myself alone in the recessesof the dark woods remote from the toil and fret of our distractedcivilization.

  This increasing feeling culminated in the resolve which becomes thesubject of this narrative. The thought came to me suddenly one night. Iwoke from my sleep with a plan fully matured in my mind. It was this:I would, for one month, cast off all the travail and cares of civilizedlife and become again the wild man of the woods that Nature made me. M woods, somewhere in New England, divest myself of my clothes--exceptonly my union suit--crawl into the woods, stay there a month and thencrawl out again. To a trained woodsman and crawler like myself the thingwas simplicity itself. For food I knew that I could rely on berries,roots, shoots, mosses, mushrooms, fungi, bungi--in fact the whole ofNature's ample storehouse; for my drink, the running brook and the quietpool; and for my companions the twittering chipmunk, the chickadee,the chocktaw, the choo-choo, the chow-chow, and the hundred and oneinhabitants of the forgotten glade and the tangled thicket.

  Fortunately for me, my resolve came to me upon the last day in August.The month of September was my vacation. My time was my own. I was freeto go.

  On my rising in the morning my preparations were soon made; or, rather,there were practically no preparations to make. I had but to supplymyself with a camera, my one necessity in the woods, and to say good-byeto my friends. Even this last ordeal I wished to make as brief aspossible. I had no wish to arouse their anxiety over the dangerous,perhaps foolhardy, project that I had in mind. I wished, as far aspossible, to say good-bye in such a way as to allay the very naturalfears which my undertaking would excite in the minds of my friends.

  From myself, although trained in the craft of the woods, I could notconceal the danger that I incurred. Yet the danger was almost forgottenin the extraordinary and novel interest that attached to the experiment.Would it prove possible for a man, unaided by our civilized arts andindustries, to maintain himself naked--except for his union suit--in theheart of the woods? Could he do it, or could he not? And if he couldn'twhat then?

  But this last thought I put from me. Time alone could answer thequestion.

  As in duty bound, I went first to the place of business where I amemployed, to shake hands and say good-bye to my employer.

  "I am going," I said, "to spend a month naked alone in the woods."

  He looked up from his desk with genial kindliness.

  "That's right," he said, "get a good rest."

  "My plan is," I added, "to live on berries and funguses."

  "Fine," he answered. "Well, have a good time, old man--good-bye."

  Then I dropped in casually upon one of my friends.

  "Well," I said, "I'm off to New England to spend a month naked."

  "Nantucket," he said, "or Newport?"

  "No," I answered, speaking as lightly as I could. "I'm going into thewoods and stay there naked for a month."

  "Oh, yes," he said. "I see. Well, good-bye, old chap--see you when youget back."

  After that I called upon two or three other men to say a brief word offarewell. I could not help feeling slightly nettled, I must confess, atthe very casual way in which they seemed to take my announcement. "Oh,yes," they said, "naked in the woods, eh? Well, ta-ta till you getback."

  Here was a man about to risk his life--for there was no denyingthe fact--in a great sociological experiment, yet they received theannouncement with absolute unconcern. It offered one more assurance, hadI needed it, of the degenerate state of the civilization upon which Iwas turning my back.

  On my way to the train I happened to run into a newspaper reporter withwhom I have some acquaintance.

  "I'm just off," I said, "to New England to spend a month naked--at leastnaked all but my union suit--in the woods; no doubt you'll like a fewdetails about it for your paper."

  "Thanks, old man," he said, "we've pretty well given up running thatnature stuff. We couldn't do anything with it--unless, of course,anything happens to you. Then we'd be glad to give you some space."

  Several of my friends had at least the decency to see me off on thetrain. One, and one alone accompanied me on the long night-ride to NewEngland in order that he might bring back my clothes, my watch, andother possessions from the point where I should enter the woods,together with such few messages of farewell as I might scribble at thelast moment.

  It was early morning when we arrived at the wayside station where wewere to alight. From here we walked to the edge of the woods. Arrivedat this point we halted. I took off my clothes, with the exception ofmy union suit. Then, taking a pot of brown stain from my valise, Iproceeded to dye my face and hands and my union suit itself a deepbutternut brown.

  "What's that for?" asked my friend.

  "For protection," I answered. "Don't you know that all animals areprotected by their peculiar markings that render them invisible? Thecaterpillar looks like the leaf it eats from; the scales of the fishcounterfeit the glistening water of the brook; the bear and the 'possumare coloured like the tree-trunks on which they climb. There!" I added,as I concluded my task. "I am now invisible."

  "Gee!" said my friend.

  I handed him back the valise and the empty paint-pot, dropped to myhands and knees--my camera slung about my neck--and proceeded to crawlinto the bush. My friend stood watching me.

  "Why don't you stand up and walk?" I heard him call.

  I turned half round and growled at him. Then I plunged deeper into thebush, growling as I went.

  After ten minutes' active crawling I found myself in the heart of theforest. It reached all about me on every side for hundreds of miles. Allaround me was the unbroken stillness of the woods. Not a sound reachedmy ear save the twittering of a squirrel, or squirl, in the brancheshigh above my head or the far-distant call of a loon hovering over somewoodland lake.

  I judged that I had reached a spot suitable for my habitation.

  My first care was to make a fire. Difficult though it might appear tothe degenerate dweller of the city to do this, to the trained woodsman,such as I had now become, it is nothing. I selected a dry stick, rubbedit vigorously against my hind leg, and in a few moments it broke into agenerous blaze. Half an hour later I was sitting beside a glowing fireof twigs discussing with great gusto an appetizing mess of boiled grassand fungi cooked in a hollow stone.

  I ate my fill, not pausing till I was full, careless, as the natural manever is, of the morrow. Then, stretched out upon the pine-needles at thefoot of a great tree, I lay in drowsy contentment listening to the songof the birds, the hum of the myriad insects and the strident note ofthe squirrel high above me. At times I would give utterance to the softanswering call, known to every woodsman, that is part of the freemasonryof animal speech. As I lay thus, I would not have exchanged places withthe pale dweller in the city for all the wealth in the world. Here I layremote from the world, happy, full of grass, listening to the crooningof the birds.

  But the mood of inaction and reflection cannot last, even with the loverof Nature. It was time to be up and doing. Much lay before me to be donebefore the setting of the sun should bring with it, as I fully expectedit would, darkness. Before night fell I must build a house, make myselfa suit of clothes, lay in a store of nuts, and in short prepare myselffor the oncoming of winter, which, in the bush, may come on at any timein the summer.

  I rose briskly from the ground to my hands and knees and set myself tothe building of my house. The method that I intended to follow here
wasmerely that which Nature has long since taught to the beaver and which,moreover, is known and practised by the gauchos of the pampas, by thegoogoos of Rhodesia and by many other tribes. I had but to select asuitable growth of trees and gnaw them down with my teeth, taking careso to gnaw them that each should fall into the place appointed for itin the building. The sides, once erected in this fashion, another row oftrees, properly situated, is gnawed down to fall crosswise as the roof.

  I set myself briskly to work and in half an hour had already thesatisfaction of seeing my habitation rising into shape. I was stillgnawing with unabated energy when I was interrupted by a low growling inthe underbrush. With animal caution I shrank behind a tree, growling inreturn. I could see something moving in the bushes, evidently an animalof large size. From its snarl I judged it to be a bear. I could hear itmoving nearer to me. It was about to attack me. A savage joy thrilledthrough me at the thought, while my union suit bristled with rage fromhead to foot as I emitted growl after growl of defiance. I bared myteeth to the gums, snarling, and lashed my flank with my hind foot.Eagerly I watched for the onrush of the bear. In savage combat whostrikes first wins. It was my idea, as soon as the bear should appear,to bite off its front legs one after the other. This initial advantageonce gained, I had no doubt of ultimate victory.

  The brushes parted. I caught a glimpse of a long brown body and a hairyhead. Then the creature reared up, breasting itself against a log, fullin front of me. Great heavens! It was not a bear at all. It was a man.

  He was dressed, as I was, in a union suit, and his face and hands, likemine, were stained a butternut brown. His hair was long and matted andtwo weeks' stubble of beard was on his face.

  For a minute we both glared at one another, still growling. Then the manrose up to a standing position with a muttered exclamation of disgust.

  "Ah, cut it out," he said. "Let's talk English."

  He walked over towards me and sat down upon a log in an attitude thatseemed to convey the same disgust as the expression of his features.Then he looked round about him.

  "What are you doing?" he said.

  "Building a house," I answered.

  "I know," he said with a nod. "What are you here for?"

  "Why," I explained, "my plan is this: I want to see whether a man cancome out here in the woods, naked, with no aid but that of his own handsand his own ingenuity and--"

  "Yes, yes, I know," interrupted the disconsolate man. "Earn himself alivelihood in the wilderness, live as the cave-man lived, carefree andfar from the curse of civilization!"

  "That's it. That was my idea," I said, my enthusiasm rekindling as Ispoke. "That's what I'm doing; my food is to be the rude grass and theroots that Nature furnishes for her children, and for my drink--"

  "Yes, yes," he interrupted again with impatience, "for your drink therunning rill, for your bed the sweet couch of hemlock, and for yourcanopy the open sky lit with the soft stars in the deep-purple vault ofthe dewy night. I know."

  "Great heavens, man!" I exclaimed. "That's my idea exactly. In fact,those are my very phrases. How could you have guessed it?"

  He made a gesture with his hand to indicate weariness anddisillusionment.

  "Pshaw!" he said. "I know it because I've been doing it. I've been herea fortnight now on this open-air, life-in-the-woods game. Well, I'm sickof it! This last lets me out."

  "What last?" I asked.

  "Why, meeting you. Do you realize that you are the nineteenth manthat I've met in the last three days running about naked in the woods?They're all doing it. The woods are full of them."

  "You don't say so!" I gasped.

  "Fact. Wherever you go in the bush you find naked men all working outthis same blasted old experiment. Why, when you get a little farther inyou'll see signs up: NAKED MEN NOT ALLOWED IN THIS BUSH, and NAKED MENKEEP OFF, and GENTLEMEN WHO ARE NAKED WILL KINDLY KEEP TO THE HIGH ROAD,and a lot of things like that. You must have come in at a wrong place oryou'd have noticed the little shanties that they have now at the edge ofthe New England bush with signs up: UNION SUITS BOUGHT AND SOLD, CAMERASFOR SALE OR TO RENT, HIGHEST PRICE FOR CAST-OFF CLOTHING, and all thatsort of thing."

  "No," I said. "I saw nothing."

  "Well, you look when you go back. As for me, I'm done with it. Thething's worked out. I'm going back to the city to see whether I can't,right there in the heart of the city, earn myself a livelihood with myunaided hands and brains. That's the real problem; no more bumming onthe animals for me. This bush business is too easy. Well, good-bye; I'moff."

  "But stop a minute," I said. "How is it that, if what you say is true, Ihaven't seen or heard anybody in the bush, and I've been here since themiddle of the morning?"

  "Nonsense," the man answered. "They were probably all round you but youdidn't recognize them."

  "No, no, it's not possible. I lay here dreaming beneath a tree and therewasn't a sound, except the twittering of a squirrel and, far away, thecry of a lake-loon, nothing else."

  "Exactly, the twittering of a squirrel! That was some feller up the treetwittering to beat the band to let on that he was a squirrel, and nodoubt some other feller calling out like a loon over near the lake. Isuppose you gave them the answering cry?"

  "I did," I said. "I gave that low guttural note which--"

  "Precisely--which is the universal greeting in the freemasonry of animalspeech. I see you've got it all down pat. Well, good-bye again. I'm off.Oh, don't bother to growl, please. I'm sick of that line of stuff."

  "Good-bye," I said.

  He slid through the bushes and disappeared. I sat where I was, musing,my work interrupted, a mood of bitter disillusionment heavy upon me. SoI sat, it may have been for hours.

  In the far distance I could hear the faint cry of a bittern in somelonely marsh.

  "Now, who the deuce is making that noise?" I muttered. "Some silly fool,I suppose, trying to think he's a waterfowl. Cut it out!"

  Long I lay, my dream of the woods shattered, wondering what to do.

  Then suddenly there came to my ear the loud sound of voices, humanvoices, strident and eager, with nothing of the animal growl in them.

  "He's in there. I seen him!" I heard some one call.

  Rapidly I dived sideways into the underbrush, my animal instinct strongupon me again, growling as I went. Instinctively I knew that it was Ithat they were after. All the animal joy of being hunted came over me.My union suit stood up on end with mingled fear and rage.

  As fast as I could I retreated into the wood. Yet somehow, as I moved,the wood, instead of growing denser, seemed to thin out. I crouched low,still growling and endeavouring to bury myself in the thicket. I wasfilled with a wild sense of exhilaration such as any lover of the wildlife would feel at the knowledge that he is being chased, that someone is after him, that some one is perhaps just a few feet behind him,waiting to stick a pitchfork into him as he runs. There is no ecstasylike this.

  Then I realized that my pursuers had closed in on me. I was surroundedon all sides.

  The woods had somehow grown thin. They were like the mere shrubbery of apark--it might be of Central Park itself. I could hear among the deepertones of men the shrill voices of boys. "There he is," one cried, "goingthrough them bushes! Look at him humping himself!" "What is it, what'sthe sport?" another called. "Some crazy guy loose in the park in hisunderclothes and the cops after him."

  Then they closed in on me. I recognized the blue suits of the policeforce and their short clubs. In a few minutes I was dragged out ofthe shrubbery and stood in the open park in my pyjamas, wide awake,shivering in the chilly air of early morning.

  Fortunately for me, it was decided at the police-court thatsleep-walking is not an offence against the law. I was dismissed with acaution.

  My vacation is still before me, and I still propose to spend it naked.But I shall do so at Atlantic City.