Yet sleep, in this case, was his great enemy, concealing3 all approaches, smothering4 the warning of his nerves.
As, sometimes, in a nightmare events crowd upon each other's heels with a conviction of dreadfulest reality, yet some inconsistent detail accuses the whole display of incompleteness and disguise, so the events that now followed, though they actually happened, persuaded the mind somehow that the detail which could explain them had been overlooked in the confusion, and that therefore they were but partly true, the rest delusion5. At the back of the sleeper's mind something remains6 awake, ready to let slip the judgment7. "All this is not quite real; when you wake up you'll understand."
And thus, in a way, it was with Simpson. The events, not wholly inexplicable8 or incredible in themselves, yet remain for the man who saw and heard them a sequence of separate facts of cold horror, because the little piece that might have made the puzzle clear lay concealed9 or overlooked.
So far as he can recall, it was a violent movement, running downwards10 through the tent towards the door, that first woke him and made him aware that his companion was sitting bolt upright beside him—quivering. Hours must have passed, for it was the pale gleam of the dawn that revealed his outline against the canvas. This time the man was not crying; he was quaking like a leaf; the trembling he felt plainly through the blankets down the entire length of his own body. Défago had huddled11 down against him for protection, shrinking away from something that apparently12 concealed itself near the door flaps of the little tent.
Simpson thereupon called out in a loud voice some question or other—in the first bewilderment of waking he does not remember exactly what—and the man made no reply. The atmosphere and feeling of true nightmare lay horribly about him, making movement and speech both difficult. At first, indeed, he was not sure where he was—whether in one of the earlier camps, or at home in his bed at Aberdeen. The sense of confusion was very troubling.
And next—almost simultaneous with his waking, it seemed—the profound stillness of the dawn outside was shattered by a most uncommon13 sound. It came without warning, or audible approach; and it was unspeakably dreadful. It was a voice, Simpson declares, possibly a human voice; hoarse14 yet plaintive—a soft, roaring voice close outside the tent, overhead rather than upon the ground, of immense volume, while in some strange way most penetratingly and seductively sweet. It rang out, too, in three separate and distinct notes, or cries, that bore in some odd fashion a resemblance, farfetched yet recognizable, to the name of the guide: "Dé-fa-go!"
The student admits he is unable to describe it quite intelligently, for it was unlike any sound he had ever heard in his life, and combined a blending of such contrary qualities. "A sort of windy, crying voice," he calls it, "as of something lonely and untamed, wild and of abominable16 power...."
And, even before it ceased, dropping back into the great gulfs of silence, the guide beside him had sprung to his feet with an answering though unintelligible17 cry. He blundered against the tent pole with violence, shaking the whole structure, spreading his arms out frantically19 for more room, and kicking his legs impetuously free of the clinging blankets. For a second, perhaps two, he stood upright by the door, his outline dark against the pallor of the dawn; then, with a furious, rushing speed, before his companion could move a hand to stop him, he shot with a plunge20 through the flaps of canvas—and was gone. And as he went—so astonishingly fast that the voice could actually be heard dying in the distance—he called aloud in tones of anguished21 terror that at the same time held something strangely like the frenzied22 exultation23 of delight—
And then the distance quickly buried it, and the deep silence of very early morning descended25 upon the forest as before.
It had all come about with such rapidity that, but for the evidence of the empty bed beside him, Simpson could almost have believed it to have been the memory of a nightmare carried over from sleep. He still felt the warm pressure of that vanished body against his side; there lay the twisted blankets in a heap; the very tent yet trembled with the vehemence26 of the impetuous departure. The strange words rang in his ears, as though he still heard them in the distance—wild language of a suddenly stricken mind. Moreover, it was not only the senses of sight and hearing that reported uncommon things to his brain, for even while the man cried and ran, he had become aware that a strange perfume, faint yet pungent27, pervaded28 the interior of the tent. And it was at this point, it seems, brought to himself by the consciousness that his nostrils29 were taking this distressing31 odor down into his throat, that he found his courage, sprang quickly to his feet—and went out.
The grey light of dawn that dropped, cold and glimmering32, between the trees revealed the scene tolerably well. There stood the tent behind him, soaked with dew; the dark ashes of the fire, still warm; the lake, white beneath a coating of mist, the islands rising darkly out of it like objects packed in wool; and patches of snow beyond among the clearer spaces of the Bush—everything cold, still, waiting for the sun. But nowhere a sign of the vanished guide—still, doubtless, flying at frantic18 speed through the frozen woods. There was not even the sound of disappearing footsteps, nor the echoes of the dying voice. He had gone—utterly33.
There was nothing; nothing but the sense of his recent presence, so strongly left behind about the camp; and—this penetrating15, all-pervading odor.
And even this was now rapidly disappearing in its turn. In spite of his exceeding mental perturbation, Simpson struggled hard to detect its nature, and define it, but the ascertaining34 of an elusive35 scent36, not recognized subconsciously37 and at once, is a very subtle operation of the mind. And he failed. It was gone before he could properly seize or name it. Approximate description, even, seems to have been difficult, for it was unlike any smell he knew. Acrid38 rather, not unlike the odor of a lion, he thinks, yet softer and not wholly unpleasing, with something almost sweet in it that reminded him of the scent of decaying garden leaves, earth, and the myriad39, nameless perfumes that make up the odor of a big forest. Yet the "odor of lions" is the phrase with which he usually sums it all up.
Then—it was wholly gone, and he found himself standing40 by the ashes of the fire in a state of amazement41 and stupid terror that left him the helpless prey42 of anything that chose to happen. Had a muskrat43 poked44 its pointed45 muzzle46 over a rock, or a squirrel scuttled47 in that instant down the bark of a tree, he would most likely have collapsed48 without more ado and fainted. For he felt about the whole affair the touch somewhere of a great Outer Horror ... and his scattered49 powers had not as yet had time to collect themselves into a definite attitude of fighting self-control.
Nothing did happen, however. A great kiss of wind ran softly through the awakening50 forest, and a few maple51 leaves here and there rustled52 tremblingly to earth. The sky seemed to grow suddenly much lighter53. Simpson felt the cool air upon his cheek and uncovered head; realized that he was shivering with the cold; and, making a great effort, realized next that he was alone in the Bush—and that he was called upon to take immediate54 steps to find and succor55 his vanished companion.
Make an effort, accordingly, he did, though an ill-calculated and futile56 one. With that wilderness57 of trees about him, the sheet of water cutting him off behind, and the horror of that wild cry in his blood, he did what any other inexperienced man would have done in similar bewilderment: he ran about, without any sense of direction, like a frantic child, and called loudly without ceasing the name of the guide:
"Défago! Défago! Défago!" he yelled, and the trees gave him back the name as often as he shouted, only a little softened—"Défago! Défago! Défago!"
He followed the trail that lay a short distance across the patches of snow, and then lost it again where the trees grew too thickly for snow to lie. He shouted till he was hoarse, and till the sound of his own voice in all that unanswering and listening world began to frighten him. His confusion increased in direct ratio to the violence of his efforts. His distress30 became formidably acute, till at length his exertions58 defeated their own object, and from sheer exhaustion59 he headed back to the camp again. It remains a wonder that he ever found his way. It was with great difficulty, and only after numberless false clues, that he at last saw the white tent between the trees, and so reached safety.
Exhaustion then applied60 its own remedy, and he grew calmer. He made the fire and breakfasted. Hot coffee and bacon put a little sense and judgment into him again, and he realized that he had been behaving like a boy. He now made another, and more successful attempt to face the situation collectedly, and, a nature naturally plucky61 coming to his assistance, he decided62 that he must first make as thorough a search as possible, failing success in which, he must find his way into the home camp as best he could and bring help.
And this was what he did. Taking food, matches and rifle with him, and a small axe63 to blaze the trees against his return journey, he set forth64. It was eight o'clock when he started, the sun shining over the tops of the trees in a sky without clouds. Pinned to a stake by the fire he left a note in case Défago returned while he was away.
This time, according to a careful plan, he took a new direction, intending to make a wide sweep that must sooner or later cut into indications of the guide's trail; and, before he had gone a quarter of a mile he came across the tracks of a large animal in the snow, and beside it the light and smaller tracks of what were beyond question human feet—the feet of Défago. The relief he at once experienced was natural, though brief; for at first sight he saw in these tracks a simple explanation of the whole matter: these big marks had surely been left by a bull moose that, wind against it, had blundered upon the camp, and uttered its singular cry of warning and alarm the moment its mistake was apparent. Défago, in whom the hunting instinct was developed to the point of uncanny perfection, had scented65 the brute66 coming down the wind hours before. His excitement and disappearance67 were due, of course, to—to his—
Then the impossible explanation at which he grasped faded, as common sense showed him mercilessly that none of this was true. No guide, much less a guide like Défago, could have acted in so irrational68 a way, going off even without his rifle ...! The whole affair demanded a far more complicated elucidation69, when he remembered the details of it all—the cry of terror, the amazing language, the grey face of horror when his nostrils first caught the new odor; that muffled70 sobbing71 in the darkness, and—for this, too, now came back to him dimly—the man's original aversion for this particular bit of country....
Besides, now that he examined them closer, these were not the tracks of a bull moose at all! Hank had explained to him the outline of a bull's hoofs73, of a cow's or calf's, too, for that matter; he had drawn74 them clearly on a strip of birch bark. And these were wholly different. They were big, round, ample, and with no pointed outline as of sharp hoofs. He wondered for a moment whether bear tracks were like that. There was no other animal he could think of, for caribou75 did not come so far south at this season, and, even if they did, would leave hoof72 marks.
They were ominous76 signs—these mysterious writings left in the snow by the unknown creature that had lured77 a human being away from safety—and when he coupled them in his imagination with that haunting sound that broke the stillness of the dawn, a momentary78 dizziness shook his mind, distressing him again beyond belief. He felt the threatening aspect of it all. And, stooping down to examine the marks more closely, he caught a faint whiff of that sweet yet pungent odor that made him instantly straighten up again, fighting a sensation almost of nausea79.
Then his memory played him another evil trick. He suddenly recalled those uncovered feet projecting beyond the edge of the tent, and the body's appearance of having been dragged towards the opening; the man's shrinking from something by the door when he woke later. The details now beat against his trembling mind with concerted attack. They seemed to gather in those deep spaces of the silent forest about him, where the host of trees stood waiting, listening, watching to see what he would do. The woods were closing round him.
With the persistence80 of true pluck, however, Simpson went forward, following the tracks as best he could, smothering these ugly emotions that sought to weaken his will. He blazed innumerable trees as he went, ever fearful of being unable to find the way back, and calling aloud at intervals81 of a few seconds the name of the guide. The dull tapping of the axe upon the massive trunks, and the unnatural82 accents of his own voice became at length sounds that he even dreaded83 to make, dreaded to hear. For they drew attention without ceasing to his presence and exact whereabouts, and if it were really the case that something was hunting himself down in the same way that he was hunting down another—
With a strong effort, he crushed the thought out the instant it rose. It was the beginning, he realized, of a bewilderment utterly diabolical84 in kind that would speedily destroy him.
Although the snow was not continuous, lying merely in shallow flurries over the more open spaces, he found no difficulty in following the tracks for the first few miles. They went straight as a ruled line wherever the trees permitted. The stride soon began to increase in length, till it finally assumed proportions that seemed absolutely impossible for any ordinary animal to have made. Like huge flying leaps they became. One of these he measured, and though he knew that "stretch" of eighteen feet must be somehow wrong, he was at a complete loss to understand why he found no signs on the snow between the extreme points. But what perplexed85 him even more, making him feel his vision had gone utterly awry86, was that Défago's stride increased in the same manner, and finally covered the same incredible distances. It looked as if the great beast had lifted him with it and carried him across these astonishing intervals. Simpson, who was much longer in the limb, found that he could not compass even half the stretch by taking a running jump.
And the sight of these huge tracks, running side by side, silent evidence of a dreadful journey in which terror or madness had urged to impossible results, was profoundly moving. It shocked him in the secret depths of his soul. It was the most horrible thing his eyes had ever looked upon. He began to follow them mechanically, absentmindedly almost, ever peering over his shoulder to see if he, too, were being followed by something with a gigantic tread.... And soon it came about that he no longer quite realized what it was they signified—these impressions left upon the snow by something nameless and untamed, always accompanied by the footmarks of the little French Canadian, his guide, his comrade, the man who had shared his tent a few hours before, chatting, laughing, even singing by his side....
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1
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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4
smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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9
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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10
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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11
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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12
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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13
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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14
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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15
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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16
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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17
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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18
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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21
anguished
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| adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
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22
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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vehemence
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| n.热切；激烈；愤怒 | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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30
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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distressing
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| a.使人痛苦的 | |
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32
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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33
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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ascertaining
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的现在分词 ) | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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subconsciously
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| ad.下意识地，潜意识地 | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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40
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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41
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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42
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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43
muskrat
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| n.麝香鼠 | |
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44
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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45
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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46
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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47
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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48
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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49
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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50
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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51
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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52
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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54
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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55
succor
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| n.援助，帮助；v.给予帮助 | |
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56
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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57
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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58
exertions
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| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
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59
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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60
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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62
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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63
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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65
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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66
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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67
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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68
irrational
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| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
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69
elucidation
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| n.说明，阐明 | |
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70
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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71
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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72
hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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73
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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caribou
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| n.北美驯鹿 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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81
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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83
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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84
diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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