A Voyage to Arcturus Part 63

"Yes, eat them; you must be hungry. I want none myself, and one mustn't insult Krag by offering him a pleasure--especially such a low pleasure."

Maskull knocked the ends off two of the eggs, and swallowed the liquid contents. They tasted rather alcoholic. Krag s.n.a.t.c.hed the remaining, egg out of his hand and flung it against a tree trunk, where it broke and stuck, a splash of slime.

"I don't wait to be asked, Gangnet.... Say, is there a filthier sight than a smashed pleasure?"

Gangnet did not reply, but took Maskull's arm.

After they had alternately walked through forests and descended cliffs and slopes for upward of two hours, the landscape altered. A steep mountainside commenced and continued for at least a couple of miles, during which s.p.a.ce the land must have dropped nearly four thousand feet, at a practically uniform gradient. Maskull had seen nothing like this immense slide of country anywhere. The hill slope carried an enormous forest on its back. This forest, however, was different from those they had hitherto pa.s.sed through. The leaves of the trees were curled in sleep, but the boughs were so close and numerous that, but for the fact that they were translucent, the rays of the sun would have been completely intercepted. As it was, the whole forest was flooded with light, and this light, being tinged with the colour of the branches, was a soft and lovely rose. So gay, feminine, and dawnlike was the illumination, that Maskull's spirits immediately started to rise, although he did not wish it.

He checked himself, sighed, and grew pensive.

"What a place for languishing eyes and necks of ivory, Maskull!" rasped Krag mockingly. "Why isn't Sullenbode here?"

Maskull gripped him roughly and flung him against the nearest tree. Krag recovered himself, and burst into a roaring laugh, seeming not a whit discomposed.

"Still what I said--was it true or untrue?"

Maskull gazed at him sternly. "You seem to regard yourself as a necessary evil. I'm under no obligation to go on with you any farther. I think we had better part."

Krag turned to Gangnet with an air of grotesque mock earnestness.

"What do you say--do we part when Maskull pleases, or when I please?"

"Keep your temper, Maskull," said Gangnet, showing Krag his back. "I know the man better than you do. Now that he has fastened onto you there's only one way of making him lose his hold, by ignoring him.

Despise him--say nothing to him, don't answer his questions. If you refuse to recognise his existence, he is as good as not here."

"I'm beginning to be tired of it all," said Maskull. "It seems as if I shall add one more to my murders, before I have finished."

"I smell murder in the air," exclaimed Krag, pretending to sniff. "But whose?"

"Do as I say, Maskull. To bandy words with him is to throw oil on fire."

"I'll say no more to anyone.... When do we get out of this accursed forest?"

"It's some way yet, but when we're once out we can take to the water, and you will be able to rest, and think."

"And brood comfortably over your sufferings," added Krag.

None of the three men said anything more until they emerged into the open day. The slope of the forest was so steep that they were forced to run, rather than walk, and this would have prevented any conversation, even if they had otherwise felt inclined toward it. In less than half an hour they were through. A flat, open landscape lay stretched in front of them as far as they could see.

Three parts of this country consisted of smooth water. It was a succession of large, low-sh.o.r.ed lakes, divided by narrow strips of tree-covered land. The lake immediately before them had its small end to the forest. It was there about a third of a mile wide. The water at the sides and end was shallow, and choked with dolm-colored rushes; but in the middle, beginning a few yards from the sh.o.r.e, there was a perceptible current away from them. In view of this current, it was difficult to decide whether it was a lake or a river. Some little floating islands were in the shallows.

"Is it here that we take to the water?" inquired Maskull.

"Yes, here," answered Gangnet.

"But how?"

"One of those islands will serve. It only needs to move it into the stream."

Maskull frowned. "Where will it carry us to?"

"Come, get on, get on!" said Krag, laughing uncouthly. "The morning's wearing away, and you have to die before noon. We are going to the Ocean."

"If you are omniscient, Krag, what is my death to be?"

"Gangnet will murder you."

"You lie!" said Gangnet. "I wish Maskull nothing but good."

"At all events, he will be the cause of your death. But what does it matter? The great point is you are quitting this futile world.... Well, Gangnet, I see you're as slack as ever. I suppose I must do the work."

He jumped into the lake and began to run through the shallow water, splashing it about. When he came to the nearest island, the water was up to his thighs. The island was lozenge-shaped, and about fifteen feet from end to end. It was composed of a sort of light brown peat; there was no form of living vegetation on its surface. Krag went behind it, and started shoving it toward the current, apparently without having unduly to exert himself. When it was within the influence of the stream the others waded out to him, and all three climbed on.

The voyage began. The current was not travelling at more than two miles an hour. The sun glared down on their heads mercilessly, and there was no shade or prospect of shade. Maskull sat down near the edge, and periodically splashed water over his head. Gangnet sat on his haunches next to him. Krag paced up and down with short, quick steps, like an animal in a cage. The lake widened out more and more, and the width of the stream increased in proportion, until they seemed to themselves to be floating on the bosom of some broad, flowing estuary.

Krag suddenly bent over and s.n.a.t.c.hed off Gangnet's hat, crushing it together in his hairy fist and throwing it far out into the stream.

"Why should you disguise yourself like a woman?" he asked with a harsh guffaw--"Show Maskull your face. Perhaps he has seen it somewhere."

Gangnet did remind Maskull of someone, but he could not say of whom. His dark hair curled down to his neck, his brow was wide, lofty, and n.o.ble, and there was an air of serious sweetness about the whole man that was strangely appealing to the feelings.

"Let Maskull judge," he said with proud composure, "whether I have anything to be ashamed of."

"There can be nothing but magnificent thoughts in that head," muttered Maskull, staring hard at him.

"A capital valuation. Gangnet is the king of poets. But what happens when poets try to carry through practical enterprises?"

"What enterprises?" asked Maskull, in astonishment.

"What have you got on hand, Gangnet? Tell Maskull."

"There are two forms of practical activity," replied Gangnet calmly.

"One may either build up, or destroy."

"No, there's a third species. One may steal--and not even know one is stealing. One may take the purse and leave the money."

Maskull raised his eyebrows. "Where have you two met before?"

"I'm paying Gangnet a visit today, Maskull but once upon a time Gangnet paid me a visit."

"Where?"

"In my home--whatever that is. Gangnet is a common thief."

"You are speaking in riddles, and I don't understand you. I don't know either of you, but it's clear that if Gangnet is a poet, you're a buffoon. Must you go on talking? I want to be quiet."

Krag laughed, but said no more. Presently he lay down at full length, with his face to the sun, and in a few minutes was fast asleep, and snoring disagreeably. Maskull kept glancing over at his yellow, repulsive face with strong disfavour.