CHAPTER IX
THE BLACK PEOPLE OF THE SKY
Whether or not the great owl went on shouting _O look! look! look_!and asking _What's that_? and _Who's that_? all night, Martin didnot know. He was fast asleep until the morning sun shone on his faceand woke him, and as he had no clothes and shoes to put on he wassoon up and out. First he took a drink of water, then, feeling veryhungry he went back to the place where he had found the ripe fruitand made a very good breakfast. After that he set out once morethrough the wood towards sunrise, still following the stream. Beforelong the wood became still more open, and at last to his great joyhe found that he had got clear of it, and was once more on the greatopen plain. And now the hills were once more in sight--those greatblue hills where he wished to be, looking nearer and larger thanbefore, but they still looked blue like great banks of cloud andwere a long distance away. But he was determined to get to them, toclimb up their steep sides, and by and by when he found the streambent away to the south, he left it so as to go on straight as hecould to the hills. Away from the water-side the ground was higher,and very flat and covered with dry yellow grass. Over this yellowplain he walked for hours, resting at times, but finding no waterand no sweet roots to quench his thirst, until he was too tired towalk any further, and so he sat down on the dry grass under thatwide blue sky. There was not a cloud on it--nothing but the greatglobe of the sun above him; and there was no wind and no motion inthe yellow grass blades, and no sight or sound of any living creature.
Martin lying on his back gazed up at the blue sky, keeping his eyesfrom the sun, which was too bright for them, and after a time he didsee something moving--a small black spot no bigger than a fly movingin a circle. But he knew it was something big, but at so great aheight from the earth as to look like a fly. And then he caughtsight of a second black speck, then another and another, until hecould make out a dozen or twenty, or more, all moving in widecircles at that vast height.
Martin thought they must be the black people of the sky; he wonderedwhy they were black and not white, like white birds, or blue, and ofother brilliant colours like the people of the Mirage.
Now it was impossible for Martin to lie like that, following thosesmall black spots on the hot blue sky as they wheeled round andround continuously, without giving his eyes a little rest byshutting them at intervals. By-and-by he kept them shut a little toolong; he fell asleep, and when he woke he didn't wake fully in amoment; he remained lying motionless just as before, with eyes stillclosed, but the lids just raised enough to enable him to see abouthim. And the sight that met his eyes was very curious. He was nolonger alone in that solitary place. There were people all round him,dozens and scores of little black men about two feet in height, of avery singular appearance. They had bald heads and thin hatchet faces,wrinkled and warty, and long noses; and they all wore black silkclothes--coat, waistcoat and knickerbockers, but without shoes andstockings; their thin black legs and feet were bare; nor did theyhave anything on their bald heads. They were gathered round Martinin a circle, but a very wide circle quite twenty to thirty feet awayfrom him, and some were walking about, others standing alone or ingroups, talking together, and all looking at Martin. Only one whoappeared to be the most important person of the company kept insidethe circle, and whenever one or more of the others came forward afew steps he held up his hand and begged them to go back a little.
"We must not be in a hurry," he said. "We must wait."
"Wait for what?" asked one.
"For what may happen," said the important one. "I must ask you againto leave it to me to decide when it is time to begin." Then hestrutted up and down in the open space, turning now towards hisfellows and again to Martin, moving his head about to get a bettersight of his face. Then, putting his hand down between his coat andwaistcoat he drew out a knife with a long shining blade, and holdingit from him looked attentively at it. By and by he breathed gentlyon the bright blade, then pulling out a black silk pockethandkerchief wiped off the stain of his breath, and turning theblade about made it glitter in the sun. Then he put it back underhis coat and resumed his walk up and down.
"We are getting very hungry," said one of the others at length.
"Very hungry indeed!" cried another. "Some of us have not tastedfood these three days."
"It certainly does seem hard," said yet another, "to see our dinnerbefore us and not be allowed to touch it."
"Not so fast, my friends, I beg," exclaimed the man with the knife."I have already explained the case, and I do think you are a littleunfair in pressing me as you do."
Thus rebuked they consulted together, then one of them spoke."If, sir, you consider us unfair, or that we have not fullconfidence in you, would it not be as well to get some other personto take your place?"
"Yes, I am ready to do that," returned the important one promptly;and here, drawing forth the knife once more, he held it out towardsthem. But instead of coming forward to take it they all recoiledsome steps, showing considerable alarm. And then they all beganprotesting that they were not complaining of him, that they weresatisfied with their choice, and could not have put the matter inabler hands.
"I am pleased at your good opinion," said the important one."I may tell you that I am no chicken. I first saw the light inSeptember, 1739, and, as you know, we are now within seven monthsand thirteen days of the end of the first decade of the second halfof the nineteenth century. You may infer from this that I have had apretty extensive experience, and I promise you that when I come tocut the body up you will not be able to say that I have made anunfair distribution, or that any one has been left without hisportion."
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All murmured approval, and then one of the company asked if he wouldbe allowed to bespeak the liver for his share.
"No, sir, certainly not," replied the other. "Such matters must beleft to my discretion entirely, and I must also remind you thatthere is such a thing as the _carver's privilege_, and it ispossible that in this instance he may think fit to retain the liverfor his own consumption."
After thus asserting himself he began to examine the blade of hisknife which he still held in his hand, and to breathe gently on it,and wipe it with his handkerchief to make it shine brighter in thesun. Finally, raising his arm, he flourished it and then made two orthree stabs and lunges in the air, then walking on tiptoe headyanced to Martin lying so still on the yellow grass in the midstof that black-robed company, the hot sun shining on his naked whitebody.
The others all immediately pressed forward, craning their necks andlooking highly excited: they were expecting great things; but whenthe man with a knife had got quite close to Martin he was seizedwith fear and made two or three long jumps back to where the otherswere; and then, recovering from his alarm, he quietly put back theknife under his coat.
"We really thought you were going to begin," said one of the crowd.
"Oh no; no indeed; not just yet," said the other.
"It is very disappointing," remarked one.
The man with the knife turned on him and replied with dignity,"I am really surprised at such a remark after all I have said on thesubject. I do wish you would consider the circumstances of the case.They are peculiar, for this person--this Martin--is not an ordinaryperson. We have been keeping our eyes on him for some time past, andhave witnessed some remarkable actions on his part, to put it mildly.Let us keep in mind the boldness, the resource, the dangerousviolence he has displayed on so many occasions since he took to hispresent vagabond way of life."
"It appears to me," said one of the others, "that if Martin is deadwe need not concern ourselves about his character and desperatedeeds in the past."
"_If_ he is dead!" exclaimed the other sharply. "That is the verypoint,--_is_ he dead? Can you confidently say that he is not in asound sleep, or in a dead faint, or shamming and ready at the firsttouch of the knife to leap up and seize his assailant--I mean hiscarver--by the throat and perhaps murder him as he once murdered aspoonbill?"
"That would be very dread
ful," said one.
"But surely," said another, "there are means of telling whether aperson is dead or not? One simple and effectual method, which I haveheard, is to place a hand over the heart to feel if it still beats."
"Yes, I know, I have also heard of that plan. Very simple, as you say;but who is to try it? I invite the person who makes the suggestionto put it in practice."
"With pleasure," said the other, coming forward with a tripping gaitand an air of not being in the least afraid. But on coming near thesupposed corpse he paused to look round at the others, then pullingout his black silk handkerchief he wiped his black wrinkled foreheadand bald head. "Whew!" he exclaimed, "it's very hot to-day."
"I don't find it so," said the man with the knife. "It is sometimesa matter of nerves."
It was not a very nice remark, but it had the effect of bracing theother up, and moving forward a little more he began anxiouslyscrutinizing Martin's face. The others now began to press forward,but were warned by the man with a knife not to come too near. Thenthe bold person who had undertaken to feel Martin's heart doubledback the silk sleeve of his coat, and after some further preparationextended his arm and made two or three preliminary passes with histrembling hand at a distance of a foot or so from the breast of thecorpse. Then he approached it a little nearer, but before it came tothe touching point a sudden fear made him start back.
"What is it? What did you see?" cried the others.
"I'm not sure there wasn't a twitch of the eyelid," he replied.
"Never mind the eyelid--feel his heart," said one.
"That's all very well," he returned, "but how would you like ityourself? Will _you_ come and do it?"
"No, no!" they all cried. "You have undertaken this, and must gothrough with it."
Thus encouraged, he once more turned to the corpse, and againanxiously began to examine the face. Now Martin had been watchingthem through the slits of his not quite closed eyes all the time,and listening to their talk. Being hungry himself he could not helpfeeling for them, and not thinking that it would hurt him to be cutup in pieces and devoured, he had begun to wish that they wouldreally begin on him. He was both amused and annoyed at theirnervousness, and at last opening wide his eyes very suddenly he cried,"Feel my heart!"
It was as if a gun had been fired among them; for a moment they werestruck still with terror, and then all together turned and fled,going away with three very long hops, and then opening wide theirgreat wings they launched themselves on the air.
For they were not little black men in black silk clothes as it hadseemed, but vultures--those great, high-soaring, black-plumagedbirds which he had watched circling in the sky, looking no biggerthan bees or flies at that vast distance above the earth. And whenhe was watching them they were watching him, and after he had fallenasleep they continued moving round and round in the sky for hours,and seeing him lying so still on the plain they at last imaginedthat he was dead, and one by one they closed or half-closed theirwings and dropped, gliding downwards, growing larger in appearanceas they neared the ground, until the small black spots no biggerthan flies were seen to be great black birds as big as turkeys.
But you see Martin was not dead after all, and so they had to goaway without their dinner.