VII
_He loves to talk with marineres That come from a far countree._
--SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.
How long my body was the sport of that foaming water I cannot tell.But when I again opened my eyes, I found, first, that the sun wasshining dazzling clear high above me, and, next, that the delightfulnoise of running water babbled close against my ear. I lay upon astrip of warm sward by the river's brink. Near by me grew somerank-smelling waterside plant, and overhead the air seemed peopledwith larks.
I crawled, confused and aching, to the water, and dipped my head andhands into the cold rills. This soon refreshed me, for the sun had, itwould seem, long been dwelling on that passive corse of mine by thewaterside and had parched it to the skin.
But it was some little while yet before my mind returned fully towhat had passed, and so to my loss.
I sat looking at the grey, noisy water, almost incredulous thatRosinante could be gone. It might be that the same hand as must havedrawn myself from drowning had snatched her bridle also out of Fate'sgrasp. Perhaps even now she was seeking her master by the greenerpasture of the wide plains around me. Perhaps the far-off sea was hergreen sepulchre. But many waters cannot quench love. I faced,friendless and discomfited, a region as strange to me as the fartherside of the moon.
Without more ado I rose, shook myself, and sadly began to go forward.But I had taken only a few steps along the banks of the stream--forhere was fresh water, at least--when a sound like distant thunderrolled over these flat, green lands towards me, increasing steadily involume.
I stood, lost in wonder, and presently, at the distance, perhaps, of alittle less than a mile, descried an innumerable herd of horsesstreaming across these level pastures, and at the extremity, itseemed, of a wide ellipse, that had brought them near, and now wasgalloping them away.
My heart beat a little faster at this extraordinary spectacle. Andwhile I stood in uncertainty gazing after the retreating concourse, Iperceived a figure running towards me, lifting his hands and cryingout in a voice sonorous and inhuman. He was of a stature much above myown, yet so gross in shape and immense of head he seemed at firstalmost dwarfish. He came to a stand twenty paces or so from me, on theridge of a gentle inclination, and gazed down on me with wild, brighteyes. Even at this distance I could perceive the almost colourlesslustre of his eyes beneath his thick locks of yellow hair. When he hadtaken his fill of me, he lifted his head again and cried out to me afew words of what certainly might be English, but was neitherintelligible nor reassuring.
I stood my ground and stared him in the face, till I could see nothingbut wind-blown yellow, and strange, brutal eyes. Then he advanced alittle nearer. Whereupon I also raised my hand with a gesture likehis own, and demanded loudly where I was, what was this place, and whowas he. His very ears pricked forward, he listened so intently. Hecame nearer yet, then stayed, tossed his head into the air, whirledthe long leather thong he carried above his head, and, signing to meto follow, set off with so swift and easy a stride as would soon havecarried him out of sight, had he not turned and perceived how slowly Icould follow him.
He slackened his pace then, and, thus running, we came in sight atlength of what appeared to be a vast wooden shed, or barn, with onerude chimney, and surrounded by a thick fence, or stockade, many feethigh and apparently of immense strength and stability.
In the gateway of this fence stood the master of these solitudes, hiseyes fixed strangely on my coming with an intense, I had almost saidincredulous, interest. Nor did he cease so to regard me, while thecreature that had conducted me thither, told, I suppose, where he hadfound me, and poured out with childish zeal his own amazement anddelight. By this time, too, his voice had begun to lose its firststrangeness, and to take a meaning for me. And I was presently fullypersuaded he spoke a kind of English, and that not unpleasingly, witha liquid, shrill, voluminous ease. His master listened patientlyawhile, but at last bade his servant be silent, and himself addressedme.
"I am informed, Yahoo," he said with peculiar deliberation, "that youhave been borne down into my meadows by the river, and fetched outthence by my servant. Be aware, then, that all these lands fromhorizon to horizon are mine and my people's. I desire no tidings ofwhat follies may be beyond my boundaries, no aid, and no amity. Iadmit no trespasser here and will bear with none. It appears, however,that your life has passed beyond your own keeping: I may not,therefore, refuse you shelter and food, and to have you conducted insafety beyond my borders. Have the courtesy, then, to keep withinshelter of these walls till the night be over. Else"--he gazed outacross the verdant undulations--"else, Yahoo, I have no power toprotect you."
He turned once more, and regarded me with a lofty yet tenderrecognition, as if, little though his speech might profess it, he verykeenly desired my safety.
He then stepped aside and bade me rather sharply enter the gate beforehim. I tried to show none of the mistrust I felt at passing out ofthese open lands into this repellent yard. I glanced at theshock-haired creature, alert, half-human, beside me; across thelimitless savannah around me, echoing yet, it seemed, with the rumourof innumerable hoofs; and bowing, as it were, to odds, I went in.
On the other hand, I felt my host had been frank with me. If this wasindeed the same Lemuel Gulliver whose repute my infancy had prized sowell, I need have no fear of blood and treachery at his hands, howeverprimitive and disgusting his household, or distorted his intellectmight be. He who had proved no tyrant in Lilliput, nor quailed beforethe enormities of Brobdingnag, might abhor the sight of me; he wouldnot play me false.
His servant, or whatsoever else he might be, I considered not quiteso calmly. Yet even in _his_ broad countenance dwelt a something likebright honesty, less malice than simplicity.
Wherefore, I say, I ordered down my cowardice, and, looking both ofthem as squarely in the face as I knew how, passed out of the openinto the appalling yard of this wooden house.
I say "appalling," but without much reason. Perhaps it was theunseemly hugeness of its balks, the foul piles of skins, the mounds ofrefuse that lay about within; perhaps the all-pervading beastlystench, the bareness and filthiness under so glassy-clear and fierce asun that revolted me. All man's seemliness and affection for thenatural things of earth were absent. Here was only a brutal and baldorder, as of an intelligence like that of the yellow-locked,swift-footed creature behind me. Perhaps also it was the mereunfamiliarity of much I saw there that estranged me. All lay inneglect, cracked and marred with rough usage,--coarse strands of akind of rope, strips of hide, gaping tubs, a huge and rusty brazier,and in one corner a great cage, many feet square and surmounted withan iron ring.
I know not. I almost desired Sallow at my side, and would to heavenRosinante's nose lay in my palm.
Within the house a wood-fire burned in the sun, its smoke ascending tothe roof, and flowing thence through a rude chimney. A pot steamedover the fire, burdening the air with a savour at first somewhat faintand disgusting,--perhaps because it was merely strange to me. Thewalls of this lofty room were of rough, substantial timber, bare andweatherproof; the floor was of the colour of earth, seemingly earthitself. A few rude stools, a bench, and a four-legged table stoodbeside the unshuttered window. And from this stretched the beauteousgreen of the grass-land or prairie beyond the stockade.
The house, then, was built on the summit of a gentle mound, anddoubtless commanded from its upper window the extreme reaches of thissea of verdure.
I sat down where Mr. Gulliver directed me, and was not displeased withthe warmth of the fire, despite the sun. I was cold after that long,watery lullaby, and cold too with exhaustion after running so far atthe heels of the creature who had found me. And I dwelt in a kind ofdream on the transparent flames, and watched vacantly the seethingpot, and smelt till slowly appetite returned the smoke of the stuffthat bubbled beneath its lid.
Mr. Gulliver himself brought me my platter of this pottage, and thoughit tasted of nothing in my experience--a kind of sweet, cloying
meat--I was so tired of the fruits to which enterprise had as yetcondemned me, I ate of it hungrily and heartily. Yet not so fast asthat the young "Gulliver" had not finished his before me, and sat atlength watching every mouthful I took from beneath his sun-enticingthatch of hair. Ever and again he would toss up his chin with a shrillguffaw, or stoop his head till his eyeballs were almost hiddenbeneath their thick lashes, so regarding me for minutes together witha delightful simulation of intelligence, yet with that peculiarwistful affection his master had himself exhibited at first sight ofme.
But when our meal was done, Mr. Gulliver ordered him about hisbusiness. Without a murmur, with one last, long, brotherly glance atme, he withdrew. And presently after I heard from afar his high,melancholy "cooee," and the crack of his thong in the afternoon air ashe hastened out to his charges.
My companion did not stir. Only the flames waved silently along thelogs. The beam of sunlight drew across the floor. The crisp air of thepasture flowed through the window. What wonder, then, that, sitting onmy stool, I fell asleep!