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rustle of movement or sound of life。 And he had suffered distinct and
dreadful shock。 For the first time in his life he had killed a human being；
and he knew nausea as he contemplated the mess of his handiwork。
Then had begun the chase。 He retreated up the pig…run before his
hunters； who were between him and the beach。 How many there were；
he could not guess。 There might have been one； or a hundred； for aught
he saw of them。 That some of them took to the trees and travelled along
through the jungle roof he was certain； but at the most he never glimpsed
more than an occasional flitting of shadows。 No bow…strings twanged that
he could hear； but every little while； whence discharged he knew not； tiny
arrows whispered past him or struck tree…boles and fluttered to the ground
beside him。 They were bone…tipped and feather shafted； and the feathers；
torn from the breasts of humming…birds； iridesced like jewels。
Once … and now； after the long lapse of time； he chuckled gleefully at
the recollection … he had detected a shadow above him that came to instant
rest as he turned his gaze upward。 He could make out nothing； but；
deciding to chance it； had fired at it a heavy charge of number five shot。
Squalling like an infuriated cat； the shadow crashed down through tree…
ferns and orchids and thudded upon the earth at his feet； and； still
squalling its rage and pain； had sunk its human teeth into the ankle of his
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stout tramping boot。 He； on the other hand； was not idle； and with his
free foot had done what reduced the squalling to silence。 So inured to
savagery has Bassett since become； that he chuckled again with the glee of
the recollection。
What a night had followed！ Small wonder that he had accumulated
such a virulence and variety of fevers； he thought； as he recalled that
sleepless night of torment； when the throb of his wounds was as nothing
compared with the myriad stings of the mosquitoes。 There had been no
escaping them； and he had not dared to light a fire。 They had literally
pumped his body full of poison； so that； with the coming of day； eyes
swollen almost shut； he had stumbled blindly on； not caring much when
his head should be hacked off and his carcass started on the way of
Sagawa's to the cooking fire。 Twenty…four hours had made a wreck of him
… of mind as well as body。 He had scarcely retained his wits at all； so
maddened was he by the tremendous inoculation of poison he had
received。 Several times he fired his shot…gun with effect into the
shadows that dogged him。 Stinging day insects and gnats added to his
torment； while his bloody wounds attracted hosts of loathsome flies that
clung sluggishly to his flesh and had to be brushed off and crushed off。
Once； in that day； he heard again the wonderful sound； seemingly more
distant； but rising imperiously above the nearer war…drums in the bush。
Right there was where he had made his mistake。 Thinking that he had
passed beyond it and that； therefore； it was between him and the beach of
Ringmanu； he had worked back toward it when in reality he was
penetrating deeper and deeper into the mysterious heart of the unexplored
island。 That night； crawling in among the twisted roots of a banyan tree；
he had slept from exhaustion while the mosquitoes had had their will of
him。
Followed days and nights that were vague as nightmares in his
memory。 One clear vision he remembered was of suddenly finding
himself in the midst of a bush village and watching the old men and
children fleeing into the jungle。 All had fled but one。 From close at
hand and above him； a whimpering as of some animal in pain and terror
had startled him。 And looking up he had seen her … a girl； or young
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THE RED ONE
woman rather； suspended by one arm in the cooking sun。 Perhaps for
days she had so hung。 Her swollen； protruding tongue spoke as much。
Still alive； she gazed at him with eyes of terror。 Past help； he decided； as
he noted the swellings of her legs which advertised that the joints had been
crushed and the great bones broken。 He resolved to shoot her； and there
the vision terminated。 He could not remember whether he had or not；
any more than could he remember how he chanced to be in that village； or
how he succeeded in getting away from it。
Many pictures； unrelated； came and went in Bassett's mind as he
reviewed that period of his terrible wanderings。 He remembered
invading another village of a dozen houses and driving all before him with
his shot…gun save； for one old man； too feeble to flee； who spat at him and
whined and snarled as he dug open a ground…oven and from amid the hot
stones dragged forth a roasted pig that steamed its essence deliciously
through its green…leaf wrappings。 It was at this place that a wantonness of
savagery had seized upon him。 Having feasted； ready to depart with a
hind…quarter of the pig in his hand； he deliberately fired the grass thatch of
a house with his burning glass。
But seared deepest of all in Bassett's brain； was the dank and noisome
jungle。 It actually stank with evil； and it was always twilight。 Rarely
did a shaft of sunlight penetrate its matted roof a hundred feet overhead。
And beneath that roof was an aerial ooze of vegetation； a monstrous；
parasitic dripping of decadent life… forms that rooted in death and lived on
death。 And through all this he drifted； ever pursued by the flitting
shadows of the anthropophagi； themselves ghosts of evil that dared not
face him in battle but that knew that； soon or late； they would feed on him。
Bassett remembered that at the time； in lucid moments； he had likened
himself to a wounded bull pursued by plains' coyotes too cowardly to
battle with him for the meat