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32 - Sea Wolf by Jack London · Sea Wolf

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  Speaker 1: The Sea Wolf by Jack London, chapter thirty two. I
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  Speaker 1: awoke oppressed by a mysterious sensation there seemed something missing
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  Speaker 1: in my environment. But the mystery and oppressiveness vanished after
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  Speaker 1: the first few seconds of waking, when I identify the
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  Speaker 1: missing something as the wind. I had fallen asleep in
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  Speaker 1: that state of nerve tension with which one meets the
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  Speaker 1: continuous shock of sound or movement, and I had awakened
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  Speaker 1: still tense, bracing myself to meet the pressure of something
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  Speaker 1: which no longer bore upon me. It was the first
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  Speaker 1: night I had spent under cover in several months, and
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  Speaker 1: I lay luxuriously for some minutes under my blankets for
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  Speaker 1: once not wet with fog or spray, analyzing first the
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  Speaker 1: effect produced upon me by the cessation of the wind,
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  Speaker 1: and next the joy which was mine from resting on
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  Speaker 1: the mattress made by Maud's hands. When I had dressed
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  Speaker 1: and opened the door, I heard the waves still lapping
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  Speaker 1: on the beach, garrulous lea testing the fury of the night.
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  Speaker 1: It was a clear day and the sun was shining.
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  Speaker 1: I had slept late, and I stepped outside with sudden energy,
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  Speaker 1: bent upon making up lost time as befitted a dweller
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  Speaker 1: on Dever Island, and when outside I stopped short. I
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  Speaker 1: believed my eyes without question, and yet I was, for
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  Speaker 1: the moment stunned by what they disclosed to me. There
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  Speaker 1: on the beach, not fifty feet away bow On dismasted,
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  Speaker 1: was a black hulled vessel, masts and BOMs taggled with shrouds.
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  Speaker 1: Sheets and rent canvas were rubbing gently alongside. I could
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  Speaker 1: have rubbed my eyes as I looked. There was the
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  Speaker 1: homemade galley we had built, the familiar break of the poop,
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  Speaker 1: the low yacht cabin scarcely rising above the rail. It
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  Speaker 1: was the ghost. What freak of fortune had brought it
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  Speaker 1: here here, of all spots? What chance of chances? I
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  Speaker 1: looked at the bleak inaccessible wallet my back, and know
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  Speaker 1: the profundity of despair. Escape was hopeless. Out of the question.
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  Speaker 1: I thought of Maud, asleep there in the hut we
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  Speaker 1: had reared. I remembered her. Good night, Humphrey, my woman,
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  Speaker 1: my mate, went ringing through my brain. But now alas
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  Speaker 1: it was a knell that sounded. Then everything went black
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  Speaker 1: before my eyes. Possibly it was the fraction of a second,
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  Speaker 1: but I had no knowledge of how long an interval
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  Speaker 1: had lapsed before I was myself again. There lay the
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  Speaker 1: ghost bow on to the beach, her splintered bou brit
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  Speaker 1: projecting over the sand, her tangled spars rubbing against her side,
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  Speaker 1: to the lift of the crooning waves. Something must be done,
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  Speaker 1: must be done. It came upon me suddenly, as strange
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  Speaker 1: that nothing moved aboard, wearied from the night of struggle
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  Speaker 1: and wreck, all hands were yet asleep, I thought. My
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  Speaker 1: next thought was that Maud and I might yet escape,
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  Speaker 1: if we could take to the boat and make round
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  Speaker 1: the point before anyone awoke. I would call her and start.
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  Speaker 1: My hand was lifted at the door to knock. When
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  Speaker 1: I recollected the smallness of the island. We could never
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  Speaker 1: hide ourselves upon it. There was nothing for us but
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  Speaker 1: the wide raw ocean. I thought of our snug little huts,
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  Speaker 1: our supplies of meat and oil and moss and firewood.
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  Speaker 1: And I knew that we could never survive the wintry
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  Speaker 1: sea and the great storms which were to come. So
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  Speaker 1: I stood with knuckle Without her door, it was impossible, impossible.
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  Speaker 1: A wild thought of rushing in and killing her as
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  Speaker 1: she slept rose in my mind, and then In a flash,
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  Speaker 1: the better solution came to me. All hands were asleep.
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  Speaker 1: Why not creep aboard the ghost? Well, I knew the
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  Speaker 1: way to wolf Larsen's bunk and kill him in his sleep.
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  Speaker 1: After that, well we would see. But with him dead
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  Speaker 1: there was time and space in which to prepare to
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  Speaker 1: do other things. And besides, whatever new situation arose, it
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  Speaker 1: could not possibly be worse than the present one. My
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  Speaker 1: knife was at my hip. I returned to my hut
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  Speaker 1: for the shotgun, made sure it was loaded, and went
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  Speaker 1: down to the ghosts. With some difficulty, and at the
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  Speaker 1: expense of a wedding to the waist, I climbed aboard
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  Speaker 1: the forecastle scuttle was open. I paused to listen for
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  Speaker 1: the breathing of the men, but there was no breathing.
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  Speaker 1: I almost gasped as the thought came to me, what
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  Speaker 1: if the ghost is deserted? I listened more closely. There
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  Speaker 1: was no sound. I cautiously descended the ladder. The place
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  Speaker 1: had the empty and musty feel and smell usual to
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  Speaker 1: a dwelling no longer inhabited. Everywhere was a thick litter
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  Speaker 1: of discarded in ragged garments, old sea boots, leaky oil skins,
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  Speaker 1: all the worthless forecastle dunnage of a long voyage abandoned hastily,
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  Speaker 1: was my conclusion. As I ascended to the deck, hope
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  Speaker 1: was alive again in my breast, and I looked about
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  Speaker 1: me with greater coolness. I noted that the boats were missing.
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  Speaker 1: The steerage told the same tale as the forcastle. The
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  Speaker 1: hunters had packed their belongings with similar haste. The ghost
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  Speaker 1: was deserted. It was mads and mine. I thought of
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  Speaker 1: the ship's stores and the lazarette beneath the cabin, and
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  Speaker 1: the idea came to me of surprising Maud was something
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  Speaker 1: nice for breakfast. The reaction from my fear, and the
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  Speaker 1: knowledge that the terrible deed I had come to do
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  Speaker 1: was no longer necessary, made me boyish and eager. I
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  Speaker 1: went up the steerage companionway, two steps at a time,
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  Speaker 1: with nothing distinct in my mind except joy and the
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  Speaker 1: hope that Maud would sleep on until the surprise breakfast
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  Speaker 1: was quite ready for her. As I rounded the galley,
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  Speaker 1: a new satisfaction was mine. At thought of all the
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  Speaker 1: splendid cooking utentils inside. I sprang up the break of
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  Speaker 1: the poop and saw wolf larsen a lot of my
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  Speaker 1: impetuous and the stunning surprise. I clattered three or four
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  Speaker 1: steps along the deck before I could stop myself. He
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  Speaker 1: was standing in the companion away, only his head and
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  Speaker 1: shoulders visible, staring straight at me. His arms were resting
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  Speaker 1: on the half open slope. He made no movement whatever,
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  Speaker 1: simply stood there staring at me. I began to tremble.
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  Speaker 1: The old stomach sickness clutched me. I put one hand
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  Speaker 1: on the edge of the house to steady myself. My
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  Speaker 1: lips seemed suddenly dry, and I moistened them against the
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  Speaker 1: need for speech. Nor did I for an instant take
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  Speaker 1: my eyes off him. Neither of us spoke. There was
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  Speaker 1: something ominous in his silence, his immobility. All my old
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  Speaker 1: fear of him returned, and my new fear was increased
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  Speaker 1: one hundredfold. And still we stood, the pair of us,
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  Speaker 1: staring at each other. I was aware of the demand
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  Speaker 1: for action, and my old helplessness strong upon me. I
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  Speaker 1: was waiting for him to take the initiative. Then, as
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  Speaker 1: the moments went by, it came to me that the
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  Speaker 1: situation was analogous to the one in which I had
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  Speaker 1: approached the long made bull, my intention of clo being
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  Speaker 1: obscured by fear until it became a desire to make
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  Speaker 1: him run. So it was at last impressed upon me
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  Speaker 1: that I was there not to have Wolf Larsen take
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  Speaker 1: the initiative, but to take it myself. I cocked both
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  Speaker 1: barrels and leveled the shotgun at him. Had he moved
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  Speaker 1: attempted to drop down the companionway, I know, I would
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  Speaker 1: have shot him. But he stood motionless and staring as before.
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  Speaker 1: And as I faced him with leveled gun shaking in
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  Speaker 1: my hands, I had time to note the worn and
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  Speaker 1: haggard appearance of his face. It was as if some
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  Speaker 1: strong anxiety had wasted it. His cheeks were sunken, and
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  Speaker 1: there was a wearied, puckered expression on the brow. And
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  Speaker 1: it seemed to me that his eyes were strange, not
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  Speaker 1: only the expression, but the physical seeming as though the
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  Speaker 1: optic nerves and supporting muscles had suffered strain and slightly
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  Speaker 1: twisted the eyeballs. All this I saw, and my brain
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  Speaker 1: now working rapidly, I thought a thousand thoughts, and yet
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  Speaker 1: I could not pull the triggers. I lowered the gun
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  Speaker 1: and stepped to the corner of the cabin, primarily to
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  Speaker 1: relieve the tension on my nerves and to make a
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  Speaker 1: new start, and incidentally to be closer again. I raised
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  Speaker 1: the gun. He was almost at arm's length. There was
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  Speaker 1: no hope for him. I was resolved. There was no
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  Speaker 1: possible chance of missing him, no matter how poor my marksmanship.
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  Speaker 1: And yet I wrestled with myself and could not pull
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  Speaker 1: the triggers well, he demanded, impatiently. I strove vainly to
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  Speaker 1: force my fingers down on the triggers, and vainly I
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  Speaker 1: strove to say something. Why don't you shoot, he asked.
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  Speaker 1: I cleared my throat of a huskiness which prevented speech. Hump,
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  Speaker 1: he said, slowly. You can't do it. You were not
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  Speaker 1: exactly afraid. You are impotent. Your conventional morality is stronger
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  Speaker 1: than you. You are the slave to the opinions which
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  Speaker 1: have credence among the people you have known and have
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  Speaker 1: read about. Their code has been drummed into your head
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  Speaker 1: from the time you list And in spite of your
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  Speaker 1: philosophy and of what I have taught you, it won't
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  Speaker 1: let you kill an unarmed, unresisting man. I know it,
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  Speaker 1: I said, hoarsely, and you know that I would kill
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  Speaker 1: an unarmed man as readily as I would smoke a cigar.
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  Speaker 1: He went on, and you know me for what I
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  Speaker 1: am my worth in the world. By your standard, you
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  Speaker 1: have called me snake, tiger, shark, monster, and caliban. And
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  Speaker 1: yet your little rag puppet, your little echoing mechanism, you
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  Speaker 1: are unable to kill me as you would a snake
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  Speaker 1: or a shock because I have hands, feet, and a
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  Speaker 1: body shaped somewhat like yours. Bah, I had hope better
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  Speaker 1: things of you. Hum. He stepped out of the companionway
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  Speaker 1: and came up to me. Put down that gun. I
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  Speaker 1: want to ask you some questions. I haven't had a
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  Speaker 1: chance to look around yet. What place is this? How
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  Speaker 1: is the ghost lying? How did you get wet? Where's Maud?
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  Speaker 1: I beg your pardon, miss Brewster, or should I say
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  Speaker 1: missus van Wadeen. I had backed away from him, almost
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  Speaker 1: weeping at my inability to shoot him, but not fool
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  Speaker 1: enough to put down the gun. I hoped desperately that
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  Speaker 1: he might commit some hostile act, attempt to strike me
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  Speaker 1: or choke me, For in such way only I knew
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  Speaker 1: I could be stirred to shoot. This is endeavor island,
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  Speaker 1: I said, never heard of it. He broke in, at
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  Speaker 1: least that's our name for it. I amended our, he queried,
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  Speaker 1: who's our? Miss Brewster? And myself? And the ghost is
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  Speaker 1: lying as you can see for yourself. Bow on to
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  Speaker 1: the beach. There are seals here, he said. They woke
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  Speaker 1: me up with their barking, or I'd be sleeping. Yet
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  Speaker 1: I heard them when I drove in last night. They
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  Speaker 1: were the first warning that I was on a leash shore.
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  Speaker 1: It's a rookery, the kind of thing I've hunted two
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  Speaker 1: years thanks to my brother death. I've lighted on a fortune.
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  Speaker 1: It's a mint. What's its bearings? Haven't the slightest idea?
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  Speaker 1: I said, But you ought to know quite closely. What
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  Speaker 1: were your last observations? He smiled inscrutably, but did not answer. Well,
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  Speaker 1: where's all hands? I asked, How does it come that
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  Speaker 1: you are alone? I was prepared for him again to
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  Speaker 1: set aside my question, and was surprised at the readiness
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  Speaker 1: of his reply. My brother got me inside forty eight
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  Speaker 1: hours and threw no fault of mine, boarded me in
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  Speaker 1: the night with only the watch on deck. Hunters went
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  Speaker 1: back on me. He gave them a bigger lay heard him,
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  Speaker 1: offering it did it right before me? Of course, the
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  Speaker 1: crew gave me the go by that was to be expected.
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  Speaker 1: All hands went over the side, and there I was
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  Speaker 1: marooned on my own vessel. It was death's turn, and
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  Speaker 1: it's all in the family anyway. But how did you
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  Speaker 1: lose the masts? I asked, Walk over and examine those lanyards,
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  Speaker 1: he said, pointing to where the mizzen riggings should have been.
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  Speaker 1: They have been cut with a knife, I exclaimed, Not quite,
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  Speaker 1: he laughed. It was a neater job. Look again, I looked.
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  Speaker 1: The lanyards had been almost severed, with just enough left
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  Speaker 1: to hold the shrouds till some severe strains should be
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  Speaker 1: put upon them. Cooky did that, he laughed again, I know,
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  Speaker 1: though I didn't spot him at it kind of evened
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  Speaker 1: up the scar A bit good from Muggridge, I cried, Yes,
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  Speaker 1: that's what I thought when everything went over the side,
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  Speaker 1: Only I said it on the other side of my mouth.
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  Speaker 1: But what were you doing while all this was going on?
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  Speaker 1: I asked my best, you may be sure, which wasn't
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  Speaker 1: much under the circumstances. I turned to re examine Thomas
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  Speaker 1: Muggridge's work. I guess I'll sit down and take the sunshine.
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  Speaker 1: I heard Wolf Larson saying. There was a hint, just
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  Speaker 1: a slight hint of physical feebleness in his voice, and
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  Speaker 1: it was so strange that I looked quickly at him.
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  Speaker 1: His hand was sweeping nervously across his face, as though
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  Speaker 1: he were brushing away cobwebs. I was puzzled. The whole
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  Speaker 1: thing was so unlike the Wolf Larson I had known.
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  Speaker 1: How are your headaches, I asked, They still trouble me?
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  Speaker 1: Was his answer. I think I have one coming on now.
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  Speaker 1: He slipped down from his sitting posture till he lay
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  Speaker 1: on the deck. Then he rolled over on his side,
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  Speaker 1: his head resting on the biceps of the underarm, the
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  Speaker 1: forearm shielding his eyes from the sun. I stood regarding
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  Speaker 1: him wonderingly. There's your chance, hump, he said. I don't understand.
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  Speaker 1: I lied, for I thoroughly understood. Oh nothing, he added, softly,
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  Speaker 1: as if he were drowsing. Holy you've got me where
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  Speaker 1: you want me. No, I haven't, I retorted, for I
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  Speaker 1: want you a thousand miles away from here. He chuckled,
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  Speaker 1: and thereafter spoke no more, he did not stir as
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  Speaker 1: I passed by him and went down into the cabin.
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  Speaker 1: I lifted the trap in the floor, but for some
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  Speaker 1: moments gazed dubiously into the darkness of the lazarette beneath.
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  Speaker 1: I hesitated to descend. One of his lying down were
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  Speaker 1: a ruse pretty indeed to be caught there like a rat.
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  Speaker 1: I crept softly up to the companionway and peeped at him.
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  Speaker 1: He was lying as I had left him. Again. I
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  Speaker 1: went below, but before I dropped into the lazarette, I
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  Speaker 1: took the precaution of casting down the door in advance.
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  Speaker 1: At least there would be no lid a trap. But
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  Speaker 1: it was all needless. I regained the cabin with a
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  Speaker 1: store of jams, sea biscuits, canned meats and such things
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  Speaker 1: all I could carry, and replace the trap door. A
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  Speaker 1: peep at wolf Larsen showed me that he had not moved.
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  Speaker 1: A bright thought struck me. I stole into his stateroom
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  Speaker 1: and possessed myself of his revolvers. There were no other weapons,
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  Speaker 1: though I thoroughly ransacked the three remaining staterooms to make sure.
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  Speaker 1: I returned and went through the steer it and forecastle,
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  Speaker 1: and in the galley gathered up all the sharp meat
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  Speaker 1: and vegetable knives. Then I bethought me of the great
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  Speaker 1: yachtsman's knife he always carried, and I came to him
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  Speaker 1: and spoke to him, first softly, then loudly. He did
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  Speaker 1: not move. I bent over and took it from his pocket.
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  Speaker 1: I breathed more freely. He had no arms with which
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  Speaker 1: to attack me from a distance, while I armed could
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  Speaker 1: always forestall him should he attempt to grapple me with
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  Speaker 1: his terrible gorilla arms. Filling a coffee pot in frying
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  Speaker 1: pan with part of my plunder, and taking some chinaware
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  Speaker 1: from the cabin pantry, I left wulf Larsen lying in
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  Speaker 1: the sun and went to shore. Maud was still asleep.
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  Speaker 1: I blew up the embers we had not yet arranged
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  Speaker 1: a winter kitchen, and quite feverishly cooked the breakfast. Toward
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  Speaker 1: the end I heard her moving about within the hut,
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  Speaker 1: making her toilet. Just as all was ready in the
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  Speaker 1: coffee pord. The door opened and she came forth. It's
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  Speaker 1: not fair of you, was her greeting. You are usurping
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  Speaker 1: one of my prerogatives, you know you and I agreed
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  Speaker 1: that the cooking should be mine. And but just this once,
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  Speaker 1: I pleaded, If you promise not to do it again,
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  Speaker 1: she smiled, unless, of course, you have grown tired of
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  Speaker 1: my poor efforts. To my delight, she never once looked
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  Speaker 1: toward the beach, and I maintained the banter with such success.
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  Speaker 1: All on cautiously. She sipped coffee from the china cup,
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  Speaker 1: a fried evaporated potatoes, and spread marmalade on her biscuit.
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  Speaker 1: But it could not last. I saw the surprise that
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  Speaker 1: came over her. She had discovered the china plate from
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  Speaker 1: which she was eating. She looked over the breakfast, noting
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  Speaker 1: detail after detail. Then she looked at me, and her
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  Speaker 1: face turned slowly toward the beach. Humphrey, she said, the
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  Speaker 1: old unnameable terror mounted into her eyes. Is he? She quavered.
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  Speaker 1: I nodded my head. End of Chapter thirty two