“We know. We have it from our fathers and our fathers’ fathers. They came like lambs, speaking softly. Well might they speak softly, for we were many and strong, and all the islands were ours. As I say, they spoke1 softly. They were of two kinds. The one kind asked our permission, our gracious permission, to preach to us the word of God. The other kind asked our permission, our gracious permission, to trade with us. That was the beginning. Today all the islands are theirs, all the land, all the cattle—everything is theirs. They that preached the word of God and they that preached the word of Rum have fore-gathered and become great chiefs. They live like kings in houses of many rooms, with multitudes of servants to care for them. They who had nothing have everything, and if you, or I, or any Kanaka be hungry, they sneer2 and say, ‘Well, why don’t you work? There are the plantations3.’”
Koolau paused. He raised one hand, and with gnarled and twisted fingers lifted up the blazing wreath of hibiscus that crowned his black hair. The moonlight bathed the scene in silver. It was a night of peace, though those who sat about him and listened had all the seeming of battle-wrecks. Their faces were leonine. Here a space yawned in a face where should have been a nose, and there an arm-stump showed where a hand had rotted off. They were men and women beyond the pale, the thirty of them, for upon them had been placed the mark of the beast.
They sat, flower-garlanded, in the perfumed, luminous5 night, and their lips made uncouth6 noises and their throats rasped approval of Koolau’s speech. They were creatures who once had been men and women. But they were men and women no longer. They were monsters—in face and form grotesque7 caricatures of everything human. They were hideously8 maimed and distorted, and had the seeming of creatures that had been racked in millenniums of hell. Their hands, when they possessed9 them, were like harpy claws. Their faces were the misfits and slips, crushed and bruised10 by some mad god at play in the machinery11 of life. Here and there were features which the mad god had smeared12 half away, and one woman wept scalding tears from twin pits of horror, where her eyes once had been. Some were in pain and groaned13 from their chests. Others coughed, making sounds like the tearing of tissue. Two were idiots, more like huge apes marred14 in the making, until even an ape were an angel. They mowed15 and gibbered in the moonlight, under crowns of drooping16, golden blossoms. One, whose bloated ear-lobe flapped like a fan upon his shoulder, caught up a gorgeous flower of orange and scarlet19 and with it decorated the monstrous20 ear that flip-flapped with his every movement.
And over these things Koolau was king. And this was his kingdom,—a flower-throttled gorge18, with beetling21 cliffs and crags, from which floated the blattings of wild goats. On three sides the grim walls rose, festooned in fantastic draperies of tropic vegetation and pierced by cave-entrances—the rocky lairs22 of Koolau’s subjects. On the fourth side the earth fell away into a tremendous abyss, and, far below, could be seen the summits of lesser23 peaks and crags, at whose bases foamed24 and rumbled25 the Pacific surge. In fine weather a boat could land on the rocky beach that marked the entrance of Kalalau Valley, but the weather must be very fine. And a cool-headed mountaineer might climb from the beach to the head of Kalalau Valley, to this pocket among the peaks where Koolau ruled; but such a mountaineer must be very cool of head, and he must know the wild-goat trails as well. The marvel26 was that the mass of human wreckage27 that constituted Koolau’s people should have been able to drag its helpless misery28 over the giddy goat-trails to this inaccessible29 spot.
“Brothers,” Koolau began.
But one of the mowing30, apelike travesties31 emitted a wild shriek32 of madness, and Koolau waited while the shrill33 cachination was tossed back and forth34 among the rocky walls and echoed distantly through the pulseless night.
“Brothers, is it not strange? Ours was the land, and behold35, the land is not ours. What did these preachers of the word of God and the word of Rum give us for the land? Have you received one dollar, as much as one dollar, any one of you, for the land? Yet it is theirs, and in return they tell us we can go to work on the land, their land, and that what we produce by our toil37 shall be theirs. Yet in the old days we did not have to work. Also, when we are sick, they take away our freedom.”
“Who brought the sickness, Koolau?” demanded Kiloliana, a lean and wiry man with a face so like a laughing faun’s that one might expect to see the cloven hoofs38 under him. They were cloven, it was true, but the cleavages were great ulcers39 and livid putrefactions. Yet this was Kiloliana, the most daring climber of them all, the man who knew every goat-trail and who had led Koolau and his wretched followers40 into the recesses41 of Kalalau.
“Ay, well questioned,” Koolau answered. “Because we would not work the miles of sugar-cane where once our horses pastured, they brought the Chinese slaves from overseas. And with them came the Chinese sickness—that which we suffer from and because of which they would imprison42 us on Molokai. We were born on Kauai. We have been to the other islands, some here and some there, to Oahu, to Maui, to Hawaii, to Honolulu. Yet always did we come back to Kauai. Why did we come back? There must be a reason. Because we love Kauai. We were born here. Here we have lived. And here shall we die—unless—unless—there be weak hearts amongst us. Such we do not want. They are fit for Molokai. And if there be such, let them not remain. Tomorrow the soldiers land on the shore. Let the weak hearts go down to them. They will be sent swiftly to Molokai. As for us, we shall stay and fight. But know that we will not die. We have rifles. You know the narrow trails where men must creep, one by one. I, alone, Koolau, who was once a cowboy on Niihau, can hold the trail against a thousand men. Here is Kapalei, who was once a judge over men and a man with honour, but who is now a hunted rat, like you and me. Hear him. He is wise.”
Kapalei arose. Once he had been a judge. He had gone to college at Punahou. He had sat at meat with lords and chiefs and the high representatives of alien powers who protected the interests of traders and missionaries44. Such had been Kapalei. But now, as Koolau had said, he was a hunted rat, a creature outside the law, sunk so deep in the mire45 of human horror that he was above the law as well as beneath it. His face was featureless, save for gaping46 orifices and for the lidless eyes that burned under hairless brows.
“Let us not make trouble,” he began. “We ask to be left alone. But if they do not leave us alone, then is the trouble theirs and the penalty. My fingers are gone, as you see.” He held up his stumps47 of hands that all might see. “Yet have I the joint48 of one thumb left, and it can pull a trigger as firmly as did its lost neighbour in the old days. We love Kauai. Let us live here, or die here, but do not let us go to the prison of Molokai. The sickness is not ours. We have not sinned. The men who preached the word of God and the word of Rum brought the sickness with the coolie slaves who work the stolen land. I have been a judge. I know the law and the justice, and I say to you it is unjust to steal a man’s land, to make that man sick with the Chinese sickness, and then to put that man in prison for life.”
“Life is short, and the days are filled with pain,” said Koolau. “Let us drink and dance and be happy as we can.”
From one of the rocky lairs calabashes were produced and passed round. The calabashes were filled with the fierce distillation49 of the root of the ti-plant; and as the liquid fire coursed through them and mounted to their brains, they forgot that they had once been men and women, for they were men and women once more. The woman who wept scalding tears from open eye-pits was indeed a woman apulse with life as she plucked the strings50 of an ukulele and lifted her voice in a barbaric love-call such as might have come from the dark forest-depths of the primeval world. The air tingled51 with her cry, softly imperious and seductive. Upon a mat, timing52 his rhythm to the woman’s song Kiloliana danced. It was unmistakable. Love danced in all his movements, and, next, dancing with him on the mat, was a woman whose heavy hips53 and generous breast gave the lie to her disease-corroded face. It was a dance of the living dead, for in their disintegrating54 bodies life still loved and longed. Ever the woman whose sightless eyes ran scalding tears chanted her love-cry, ever the dancers of love danced in the warm night, and ever the calabashes went around till in all their brains were maggots crawling of memory and desire. And with the woman on the mat danced a slender maid whose face was beautiful and unmarred, but whose twisted arms that rose and fell marked the disease’s ravage55. And the two idiots, gibbering and mouthing strange noises, danced apart, grotesque, fantastic, travestying love as they themselves had been travestied by life.
But the woman’s love-cry broke midway, the calabashes were lowered, and the dancers ceased, as all gazed into the abyss above the sea, where a rocket flared56 like a wan43 phantom57 through the moonlit air.
“It is the soldiers,” said Koolau. “Tomorrow there will be fighting. It is well to sleep and be prepared.”
The lepers obeyed, crawling away to their lairs in the cliff, until only Koolau remained, sitting motionless in the moonlight, his rifle across his knees, as he gazed far down to the boats landing on the beach.
The far head of Kalalau Valley had been well chosen as a refuge. Except Kiloliana, who knew back-trails up the precipitous walls, no man could win to the gorge save by advancing across a knife-edged ridge58. This passage was a hundred yards in length. At best, it was a scant59 twelve inches wide. On either side yawned the abyss. A slip, and to right or left the man would fall to his death. But once across he would find himself in an earthly paradise. A sea of vegetation laved the landscape, pouring its green billows from wall to wall, dripping from the cliff-lips in great vine-masses, and flinging a spray of ferns and air-plants in to the multitudinous crevices60. During the many months of Koolau’s rule, he and his followers had fought with this vegetable sea. The choking jungle, with its riot of blossoms, had been driven back from the bananas, oranges, and mangoes that grew wild. In little clearings grew the wild arrowroot; on stone terraces, filled with soil scrapings, were the taro61 patches and the melons; and in every open space where the sunshine penetrated62 were papaia trees burdened with their golden fruit.
Koolau had been driven to this refuge from the lower valley by the beach. And if he were driven from it in turn, he knew of gorges63 among the jumbled64 peaks of the inner fastnesses where he could lead his subjects and live. And now he lay with his rifle beside him, peering down through a tangled65 screen of foliage66 at the soldiers on the beach. He noted67 that they had large guns with them, from which the sunshine flashed as from mirrors. The knife-edged passage lay directly before him. Crawling upward along the trail that led to it he could see tiny specks68 of men. He knew they were not the soldiers, but the police. When they failed, then the soldiers would enter the game.
He affectionately rubbed a twisted hand along his rifle barrel and made sure that the sights were clean. He had learned to shoot as a wild-cattle hunter on Niihau, and on that island his skill as a marksman was unforgotten. As the toiling69 specks of men grew nearer and larger, he estimated the range, judged the deflection of the wind that swept at right angles across the line of fire, and calculated the chances of overshooting marks that were so far below his level. But he did not shoot. Not until they reached the beginning of the passage did he make his presence known. He did not disclose himself, but spoke from the thicket70.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
“We want Koolau, the leper,” answered the man who led the native police, himself a blue-eyed American.
“You must go back,” Koolau said.
He knew the man, a deputy sheriff, for it was by him that he had been harried71 out of Niihau, across Kauai, to Kalalau Valley, and out of the valley to the gorge.
“Who are you?” the sheriff asked.
“I am Koolau, the leper,” was the reply.
“Then come out. We want you. Dead or alive, there is a thousand dollars on your head. You cannot escape.”
Koolau laughed aloud in the thicket.
“Come out!” the sheriff commanded, and was answered by silence.
He conferred with the police, and Koolau saw that they were preparing to rush him.
“Koolau,” the sheriff called. “Koolau, I am coming across to get you.”
“Then look first and well about you at the sun and sea and sky, for it will be the last time you behold them.”
“That’s all right, Koolau,” the sheriff said soothingly72. “I know you’re a dead shot. But you won’t shoot me. I have never done you any wrong.”
“I say, you know, I’ve never done you any wrong, have I?” the sheriff persisted.
“You do me wrong when you try to put me in prison,” was the reply. “And you do me wrong when you try for the thousand dollars on my head. If you will live, stay where you are.”
“I’ve got to come across and get you. I’m sorry. But it is my duty.”
“You will die before you get across.”
The sheriff was no coward. Yet was he undecided. He gazed into the gulf74 on either side and ran his eyes along the knife-edge he must travel. Then he made up his mind.
“Koolau,” he called.
But the thicket remained silent.
“Koolau, don’t shoot. I am coming.”
The sheriff turned, gave some orders to the police, then started on his perilous75 way. He advanced slowly. It was like walking a tight rope. He had nothing to lean upon but the air. The lava76 rock crumbled77 under his feet, and on either side the dislodged fragments pitched downward through the depths. The sun blazed upon him, and his face was wet with sweat. Still he advanced, until the halfway78 point was reached.
“Stop!” Koolau commanded from the thicket. “One more step and I shoot.”
The sheriff halted, swaying for balance as he stood poised79 above the void. His face was pale, but his eyes were determined80. He licked his dry lips before he spoke.
“Koolau, you won’t shoot me. I know you won’t.”
He started once more. The bullet whirled him half about. On his face was an expression of querulous surprise as he reeled to the fall. He tried to save himself by throwing his body across the knife-edge; but at that moment he knew death. The next moment the knife-edge was vacant. Then came the rush, five policemen, in single file, with superb steadiness, running along the knife-edge. At the same instant the rest of the posse opened fire on the thicket. It was madness. Five times Koolau pulled the trigger, so rapidly that his shots constituted a rattle81. Changing his position and crouching82 low under the bullets that were biting and singing through the bushes, he peered out. Four of the police had followed the sheriff. The fifth lay across the knife-edge still alive. On the farther side, no longer firing, were the surviving police. On the naked rock there was no hope for them. Before they could clamber down Koolau could have picked off the last man. But he did not fire, and, after a conference, one of them took off a white undershirt and waved it as a flag. Followed by another, he advanced along the knife-edge to their wounded comrade. Koolau gave no sign, but watched them slowly withdraw and become specks as they descended83 into the lower valley.
Two hours later, from another thicket, Koolau watched a body of police trying to make the ascent84 from the opposite side of the valley. He saw the wild goats flee before them as they climbed higher and higher, until he doubted his judgment85 and sent for Kiloliana, who crawled in beside him.
“No, there is no way,” said Kiloliana.
“The goats?” Koolau questioned.
“They come over from the next valley, but they cannot pass to this. There is no way. Those men are not wiser than goats. They may fall to their deaths. Let us watch.”
“They are brave men,” said Koolau. “Let us watch.”
Side by side they lay among the morning-glories, with the yellow blossoms of the hau dropping upon them from overhead, watching the motes86 of men toil upward, till the thing happened, and three of them, slipping, rolling, sliding, dashed over a cliff-lip and fell sheer half a thousand feet.
“We will be bothered no more,” he said.
“They have war guns,” Koolau made answer. “The soldiers have not yet spoken.”
In the drowsy88 afternoon, most of the lepers lay in their rock dens89 asleep. Koolau, his rifle on his knees, fresh-cleaned and ready, dozed90 in the entrance to his own den17. The maid with the twisted arms lay below in the thicket and kept watch on the knife-edge passage. Suddenly Koolau was startled wide awake by the sound of an explosion on the beach. The next instant the atmosphere was incredibly rent asunder91. The terrible sound frightened him. It was as if all the gods had caught the envelope of the sky in their hands and were ripping it apart as a woman rips apart a sheet of cotton cloth. But it was such an immense ripping, growing swiftly nearer. Koolau glanced up apprehensively92, as if expecting to see the thing. Then high up on the cliff overhead the shell burst in a fountain of black smoke. The rock was shattered, the fragments falling to the foot of the cliff.
Koolau passed his hand across his sweaty brow. He was terribly shaken. He had had no experience with shell-fire, and this was more dreadful than anything he had imagined.
“One,” said Kapahei, suddenly bethinking himself to keep count.
A second and a third shell flew screaming over the top of the wall, bursting beyond view. Kapahei methodically kept the count. The lepers crowded into the open space before the caves. At first they were frightened, but as the shells continued their flight overhead the leper folk became reassured93 and began to admire the spectacle.
The two idiots shrieked94 with delight, prancing95 wild antics as each air-tormenting shell went by. Koolau began to recover his confidence. No damage was being done. Evidently they could not aim such large missiles at such long range with the precision of a rifle.
But a change came over the situation. The shells began to fall short. One burst below in the thicket by the knife-edge. Koolau remembered the maid who lay there on watch, and ran down to see. The smoke was still rising from the bushes when he crawled in. He was astounded96. The branches were splintered and broken. Where the girl had lain was a hole in the ground. The girl herself was in shattered fragments. The shell had burst right on her.
First peering out to make sure no soldiers were attempting the passage, Koolau started back on the run for the caves. All the time the shells were moaning, whining97, screaming by, and the valley was rumbling98 and reverberating99 with the explosions. As he came in sight of the caves, he saw the two idiots cavorting100 about, clutching each other’s hands with their stumps of fingers. Even as he ran, Koolau saw a spout101 of black smoke rise from the ground, near to the idiots. They were flung apart bodily by the explosion. One lay motionless, but the other was dragging himself by his hands toward the cave. His legs trailed out helplessly behind him, while the blood was pouring from his body. He seemed bathed in blood, and as he crawled he cried like a little dog. The rest of the lepers, with the exception of Kapahei, had fled into the caves.
“Seventeen,” said Kapahei. “Eighteen,” he added.
This last shell had fairly entered into one of the caves. The explosion caused the caves to empty. But from the particular cave no one emerged. Koolau crept in through the pungent102, acrid103 smoke. Four bodies, frightfully mangled104, lay about. One of them was the sightless woman whose tears till now had never ceased.
Outside, Koolau found his people in a panic and already beginning to climb the goat-trail that led out of the gorge and on among the jumbled heights and chasms105. The wounded idiot, whining feebly and dragging himself along on the ground by his hands, was trying to follow. But at the first pitch of the wall his helplessness overcame him and he fell back.
“It would be better to kill him,” said Koolau to Kapahei, who still sat in the same place.
“Twenty-two,” Kapahei answered. “Yes, it would be a wise thing to kill him. Twenty-three—twenty-four.”
The idiot whined106 sharply when he saw the rifle levelled at him. Koolau hesitated, then lowered the gun.
“It is a hard thing to do,” he said.
“You are a fool, twenty-six, twenty-seven,” said Kapahei. “Let me show you.”
He arose, and with a heavy fragment of rock in his hand, approached the wounded thing. As he lifted his arm to strike, a shell burst full upon him, relieving him of the necessity of the act and at the same time putting an end to his count.
Koolau was alone in the gorge. He watched the last of his people drag their crippled bodies over the brow of the height and disappear. Then he turned and went down to the thicket where the maid had keen killed. The shell-fire still continued, but he remained; for far below he could see the soldiers climbing up. A shell burst twenty feet away. Flattening107 himself into the earth, he heard the rush of the fragments above his body. A shower of hau blossoms rained upon him. He lifted his head to peer down the trail, and sighed. He was very much afraid. Bullets from rifles would not have worried him, but this shell-fire was abominable108. Each time a shell shrieked by he shivered and crouched109; but each time he lifted his head again to watch the trail.
At last the shells ceased. This, he reasoned, was because the soldiers were drawing near. They crept along the trail in single file, and he tried to count them until he lost track. At any rate, there were a hundred or so of them—all come after Koolau the leper. He felt a fleeting110 prod36 of pride. With war guns and rifles, police and soldiers, they came for him, and he was only one man, a crippled wreck4 of a man at that. They offered a thousand dollars for him, dead or alive. In all his life he had never possessed that much money. The thought was a bitter one. Kapahei had been right. He, Koolau, had done no wrong. Because the haoles wanted labour with which to work the stolen land, they had brought in the Chinese coolies, and with them had come the sickness. And now, because he had caught the sickness, he was worth a thousand dollars—but not to himself. It was his worthless carcass, rotten with disease or dead from a bursting shell, that was worth all that money.
When the soldiers reached the knife-edged passage, he was prompted to warn them. But his gaze fell upon the body of the murdered maid, and he kept silent. When six had ventured on the knife-edge, he opened fire. Nor did he cease when the knife-edge was bare. He emptied his magazine, reloaded, and emptied it again. He kept on shooting. All his wrongs were blazing in his brain, and he was in a fury of vengeance111. All down the goat-trail the soldiers were firing, and though they lay flat and sought to shelter themselves in the shallow inequalities of the surface, they were exposed marks to him. Bullets whistled and thudded about him, and an occasional ricochet sang sharply through the air. One bullet ploughed a crease112 through his scalp, and a second burned across his shoulder-blade without breaking the skin.
It was a massacre113, in which one man did the killing114. The soldiers began to retreat, helping115 along their wounded. As Koolau picked them off he became aware of the smell of burnt meat. He glanced about him at first, and then discovered that it was his own hands. The heat of the rifle was doing it. The leprosy had destroyed most of the nerves in his hands. Though his flesh burned and he smelled it, there was no sensation.
He lay in the thicket, smiling, until he remembered the war guns. Without doubt they would open upon him again, and this time upon the very thicket from which he had inflicted116 the danger. Scarcely had he changed his position to a nook behind a small shoulder of the wall where he had noted that no shells fell, than the bombardment recommenced. He counted the shells. Sixty more were thrown into the gorge before the war-guns ceased. The tiny area was pitted with their explosions, until it seemed impossible that any creature could have survived. So the soldiers thought, for, under the burning afternoon sun, they climbed the goat-trail again. And again the knife-edged passage was disputed, and again they fell back to the beach.
For two days longer Koolau held the passage, though the soldiers contented117 themselves with flinging shells into his retreat. Then Pahau, a leper boy, came to the top of the wall at the back of the gorge and shouted down to him that Kiloliana, hunting goats that they might eat, had been killed by a fall, and that the women were frightened and knew not what to do. Koolau called the boy down and left him with a spare gun with which to guard the passage. Koolau found his people disheartened. The majority of them were too helpless to forage118 food for themselves under such forbidding circumstances, and all were starving. He selected two women and a man who were not too far gone with the disease, and sent them back to the gorge to bring up food and mats. The rest he cheered and consoled until even the weakest took a hand in building rough shelters for themselves.
But those he had dispatched for food did not return, and he started back for the gorge. As he came out on the brow of the wall, half a dozen rifles cracked. A bullet tore through the fleshy part of his shoulder, and his cheek was cut by a sliver119 of rock where a second bullet smashed against the cliff. In the moment that this happened, and he leaped back, he saw that the gorge was alive with soldiers. His own people had betrayed him. The shell-fire had been too terrible, and they had preferred the prison of Molokai.
Koolau dropped back and unslung one of his heavy cartridge-belts. Lying among the rocks, he allowed the head and shoulders of the first soldier to rise clearly into view before pulling trigger. Twice this happened, and then, after some delay, in place of a head and shoulders a white flag was thrust above the edge of the wall.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
“I want you, if you are Koolau the leper,” came the answer.
Koolau forgot where he was, forgot everything, as he lay and marvelled120 at the strange persistence121 of these haoles who would have their will though the sky fell in. Aye, they would have their will over all men and all things, even though they died in getting it. He could not but admire them, too, what of that will in them that was stronger than life and that bent122 all things to their bidding. He was convinced of the hopelessness of his struggle. There was no gainsaying123 that terrible will of the haoles. Though he killed a thousand, yet would they rise like the sands of the sea and come upon him, ever more and more. They never knew when they were beaten. That was their fault and their virtue124. It was where his own kind lacked. He could see, now, how the handful of the preachers of God and the preachers of Rum had conquered the land. It was because—
“Well, what have you got to say? Will you come with me?”
It was he voice of the invisible man under the white flag. There he was, like any haole, driving straight toward the end determined.
“Let us talk,” said Koolau.
The man’s head and shoulders arose, then his whole body. He was a smooth-faced, blue-eyed youngster of twenty-five, slender and natty125 in his captain’s uniform. He advanced until halted, then seated himself a dozen feet away.
“You are a brave man,” said Koolau wonderingly. “I could kill you like a fly.”
“No, you couldn’t,” was the answer.
“Why not?”
“Because you are a man, Koolau, though a bad one. I know your story. You kill fairly.”
Koolau grunted, but was secretly pleased.
“What have you done with my people?” he demanded. “The boy, the two women, and the man?”
“They gave themselves up, as I have now come for you to do.”
Koolau laughed incredulously.
“I am a free man,” he announced. “I have done no wrong. All I ask is to be left alone. I have lived free, and I shall die free. I will never give myself up.”
“Then your people are wiser than you,” answered the young captain. “Look—they are coming now.”
Koolau turned and watched the remnant of his band approach. Groaning126 and sighing, a ghastly procession, it dragged its wretchedness past. It was given to Koolau to taste a deeper bitterness, for they hurled128 imprecations and insults at him as they went by; and the panting hag who brought up the rear halted, and with skinny, harpy-claws extended, shaking her snarling129 death’s head from side to side, she laid a curse upon him. One by one they dropped over the lip-edge and surrendered to the hiding soldiers.
“You can go now,” said Koolau to the captain. “I will never give myself up. That is my last word. Good-bye.”
The captain slipped over the cliff to his soldiers. The next moment, and without a flag of truce130, he hoisted131 his hat on his scabbard, and Koolau’s bullet tore through it. That afternoon they shelled him out from the beach, and as he retreated into the high inaccessible pockets beyond, the soldiers followed him.
For six weeks they hunted him from pocket to pocket, over the volcanic132 peaks and along the goat-trails. When he hid in the lantana jungle, they formed lines of beaters, and through lantana jungle and guava scrub they drove him like a rabbit. But ever he turned and doubled and eluded133. There was no cornering him. When pressed too closely, his sure rifle held them back and they carried their wounded down the goat-trails to the beach. There were times when they did the shooting as his brown body showed for a moment through the underbrush. Once, five of them caught him on an exposed goat-trail between pockets. They emptied their rifles at him as he limped and climbed along his dizzy way. Afterwards they found bloodstains and knew that he was wounded. At the end of six weeks they gave up. The soldiers and police returned to Honolulu, and Kalalau Valley was left to him for his own, though head-hunters ventured after him from time to time and to their own undoing134.
Two years later, and for the last time, Koolau crawled into a thicket and lay down among the ti-leaves and wild ginger135 blossoms. Free he had lived, and free he was dying. A slight drizzle136 of rain began to fall, and he drew a ragged127 blanket about the distorted wreck of his limbs. His body was covered with an oilskin coat. Across his chest he laid his Mauser rifle, lingering affectionately for a moment to wipe the dampness from the barrel. The hand with which he wiped had no fingers left upon it with which to pull the trigger.
He closed his eyes, for, from the weakness in his body and the fuzzy turmoil137 in his brain, he knew that his end was near. Like a wild animal he had crept into hiding to die. Half-conscious, aimless and wandering, he lived back in his life to his early manhood on Niihau. As life faded and the drip of the rain grew dim in his ears it seemed to him that he was once more in the thick of the horse-breaking, with raw colts rearing and bucking138 under him, his stirrups tied together beneath, or charging madly about the breaking corral and driving the helping cowboys over the rails. The next instant, and with seeming naturalness, he found himself pursuing the wild bulls of the upland pastures, roping them and leading them down to the valleys. Again the sweat and dust of the branding pen stung his eyes and bit his nostrils139.
All his lusty, whole-bodied youth was his, until the sharp pangs140 of impending141 dissolution brought him back. He lifted his monstrous hands and gazed at them in wonder. But how? Why? Why should the wholeness of that wild youth of his change to this? Then he remembered, and once again, and for a moment, he was Koolau, the leper. His eyelids142 fluttered wearily down and the drip of the rain ceased in his ears. A prolonged trembling set up in his body. This, too, ceased. He half-lifted his head, but it fell back. Then his eyes opened, and did not close. His last thought was of his Mauser, and he pressed it against his chest with his folded, fingerless hands.
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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2
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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3
plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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4
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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uncouth
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| adj.无教养的，粗鲁的 | |
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7
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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8
hideously
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| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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12
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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mowed
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| v.刈，割( mow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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19
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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20
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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21
beetling
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| adj.突出的，悬垂的v.快速移动( beetle的现在分词 ) | |
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lairs
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| n.（野兽的）巢穴，窝( lair的名词复数 )；（人的）藏身处 | |
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23
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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24
foamed
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| 泡沫的 | |
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rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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26
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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29
inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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30
mowing
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| n.割草，一次收割量，牧草地v.刈，割( mow的现在分词 ) | |
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31
travesties
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| n.拙劣的模仿作品，荒谬的模仿，歪曲( travesty的名词复数 ) | |
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32
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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33
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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34
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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35
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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36
prod
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| vt.戳，刺；刺激，激励 | |
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37
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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38
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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39
ulcers
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| n.溃疡( ulcer的名词复数 )；腐烂物；道德败坏；腐败 | |
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40
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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41
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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42
imprison
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| vt.监禁，关押，限制，束缚 | |
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43
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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44
missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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45
mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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46
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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47
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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48
joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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49
distillation
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| n.蒸馏，蒸馏法 | |
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50
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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51
tingled
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
timing
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| n.时间安排，时间选择 | |
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53
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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54
disintegrating
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| v.（使）破裂[分裂，粉碎]，（使）崩溃( disintegrate的现在分词 ) | |
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55
ravage
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| vt.使...荒废，破坏...；n.破坏，掠夺，荒废 | |
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56
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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57
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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58
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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59
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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60
crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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61
taro
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| n.芋，芋头 | |
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62
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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63
gorges
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| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
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64
jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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65
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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66
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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67
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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68
specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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69
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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70
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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71
harried
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| v.使苦恼( harry的过去式和过去分词 )；不断烦扰；一再袭击；侵扰 | |
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72
soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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73
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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74
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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75
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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76
lava
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| n.熔岩，火山岩 | |
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77
crumbled
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| （把…）弄碎， （使）碎成细屑( crumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 衰落； 坍塌； 损坏 | |
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78
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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79
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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80
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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81
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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82
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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83
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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84
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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85
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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86
motes
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| n.尘埃( mote的名词复数 )；斑点 | |
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87
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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89
dens
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| n.牙齿，齿状部分；兽窝( den的名词复数 )；窝点；休息室；书斋 | |
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90
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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92
apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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93
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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94
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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95
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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96
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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97
whining
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| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
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98
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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99
reverberating
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| 回响，回荡( reverberate的现在分词 )； 使反响，使回荡，使反射 | |
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100
cavorting
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| v.跳跃( cavort的现在分词 ) | |
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101
spout
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| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
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102
pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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103
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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104
mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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105
chasms
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| 裂缝( chasm的名词复数 )； 裂口； 分歧； 差别 | |
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106
whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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107
flattening
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| n. 修平 动词flatten的现在分词 | |
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108
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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109
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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111
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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112
crease
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| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
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113
massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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114
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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115
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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116
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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118
forage
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| n.(牛马的)饲料，粮草；v.搜寻，翻寻 | |
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119
sliver
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| n.裂片，细片，梳毛；v.纵切，切成长片，剖开 | |
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120
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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gainsaying
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| v.否认，反驳( gainsay的现在分词 ) | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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natty
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| adj.整洁的，漂亮的 | |
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groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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130
truce
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| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
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131
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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132
volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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133
eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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134
undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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136
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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137
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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138
bucking
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| v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的现在分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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139
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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