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Chapter XXVI · A Drop in Infinity

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  Chapter twenty six of A Drop in Infinity. This is a LibriVox recording.
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  All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer,
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  please visit LibriVox dot org. A Drop in Infinity by Gerald Grogan,
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  Chapter twenty six. Adela did not die. She preferred to continue existing,
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  and for a bad Michael gave us a good Henry Qulch, but he was
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  born some months after the events touched upon in my last chapter. I refer
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  to Henry, the father of Julius. He was killed in the hunting field
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  in the summer of forty eight, and with him Julius's elder brother, poor
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  Fellow. Up to the present, the Quenches appeared to be an unlucky family,
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  although the name still exists in the person of Julius, and I have
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  a feeling that their luck must turn some day. But enough of the Quelchies
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  for the moment. I prefer to talk about Peter Ommans's present day readers can
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  hardly imagine what a god send Peter was at this time, the youngest of
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  ten brothers. He had spent twenty three checkered years in various parts of the
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  Old World, and added quite a little stock of practiced knowledge to his own
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  native ability. Moreover, he was a blacksmith and very expert as a mechanic.
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  I was rather surprised, as might be expected, when he informed me
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  about this latest accomplishment, but he cleared the matter up by explaining that his
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  father had been more blessed in the matter of sons than financial supremacy. Moreover,
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  so he said, the Omundson family were noted for the thickness of the
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  family skull. For these reasons, Omondsen's father had given each of them the
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  best start in life he could afford. He appears to have had plenty of
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  influence despite the lack of cash, and as an additional safeguard, he had
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  caused each of them to be taught a trade. Thus he said, when
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  you, my sons, my thick headed sons, get turned out of the
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  professions I have found for you, as you will be, I shall perhaps
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  be spared the additional humiliation of seeing you all in jail for highway robbery,
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  whereat he cursed them in turn and cast them forth. Such is Peter's version
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  of the matter. As a matter of fact, I consider Peter a far
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  better metal worker than Henry mc tavish. He it was who made the clock
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  which adorns the wall of this room. It was a present to Marjorie on
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  the occasion of our silver wedding, and I defy Henry to imitate it.
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  Peter should not be taken at his own estimate. After several attempts, he
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  also made and tempered two very excellent raisers and a machette, which still evokes
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  the grudging praise of Henry. Henry swears at these feats were more to the
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  credit of the Blind Goddess than Omansen. The owe has gone off, he
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  said to me a few days ago, and the chartley is not what it
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  used to be, with the seppings devils neglecting the Putts. But when I
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  told Peter he merely smile. Child. He then went and leaned against the
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  door of the foundry whilst Henry was at work, and weave his finger to
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  and fro in imitation of a pendulum. I thought mc tavish was going to
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  have an apoplectic seizure, so great was his fury, but he refused the
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  challenge. Although he came to my house and examined the clock both long and
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  earnestly, confound it all, what a prolix old brute I am getting to
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  be. I shall limp back on the shoulder of Julius Quelch to the subject
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  of his elemental grandsire. The harvest in the year nine was a good one,
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  and the lurking Michael did not set far to the crops, as I
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  rather fancied he might do. Adela was convalescent by this time, and for
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  once in her strenuous life, was content to sit among the children and let
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  seven year old Bill pretend to fill her place. It was at the end
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  of one of these long, hot days in the field that she opened up
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  on the subject of her erring husband Thorpe. She said, do you think
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  I could learn to use a bow? Bo Adela, I laughed, If
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  Marjorie has corrupted you also, I'd better chuck up the sponge altogether. You're
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  worse than a brace of suffragists. It's not for hunting I want it,
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  said Adela. I just want to put about two foot of ashplant into Mike
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  if I find him around any of these bright days, vindictive devil. Surely
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  the man's punished enough for alone in the forest with not even a dog for
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  companionship. Hang it all, Adela. You can take it from me that
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  when Quilt shows up again, it'll be a pretty meek Michael. And you
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  can take it from me, snapped Adela that he means more mischief. It's
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  bad enough as it is. He's spoiling everything, but Thorpe, Thorpe,
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  I'd just love this valley. Her voice broke off my home, the only
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  home I ever had. He'll come back to you, I said. I
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  was rather distressed at this sudden outbreak. It'll be all right, Adela.
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  It oh damn, you, exploded Adela. Who's talking about Mike. I
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  hope he's dead. It's my home. I'm afraid for Miss Marjorie and the
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  children, and the garden and the cows and the pigs and all the rest
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  of it. Can't you see. I was puzzled. He can't hurt us,
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  I said. Finally, he can't shoot for one thing, I know
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  it, sneered Adela. If you aren't the biggest fool, how about those
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  spears? He had no spears with him when he bolted, I said confidently.
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  I remembered that he had indeed started a javelin casting game of his own
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  about the time I left on my trip, but his performances had not all
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  good. Well for the future of the art. He couldn't use him if
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  he had em I added, forget it, said Adela. I think she
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  must have learned this expression from Marjorie. He's practiced hard all the winter,
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  and if I hadn't been a fool, I ought to have guessed what he
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  was up to. I'd feel easier now if I only knew where the blasted
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  spears were. He made about a dozen altogether. Where did he care them?
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  I asked? This was looking a little more serious. Just what I
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  want to know, said Adela. I'd noticed he'd got out with three and
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  come back with two, and I spoke to him about it. He said
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  he lost the others, and I believed him upon my word, Thorpe,
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  I believe I'm near as big an ass as yourself. He's been hiding them,
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  that's what he's done. This news now looked more than a little serious.
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  By questioning Adela further, I unearthed the information that Quelch practiced by preference
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  down the river. The most logical conclusion was that there he had buried his
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  spears, and I therefore decided to start at once to hunt for their hiding
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  place. The chances were that he had recovered them already, but I hoped
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  for the best, so I set out at daybreak of the following day.
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  It seemed to me as I hunted down the sea shore trail with a carefully
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  observant eye for signs that Quelch was going to become a first class nuisance.
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  If Adela's suspicions were correct, the cliff top, longer strongest line of defense,
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  now became our greatest peril. Even Adela's house was within range, and
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  the buildings in Limestone Hollow would be quite untenable. I cursed a bit at
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  the thought. As might be expected. There were various faint tracks off the
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  main footpath, but my eye was finally caught by one more marked, which
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  ran through the long grass and therefore had obviously been worn quite recently. It
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  was no deer track, for the hoof marks of deer are unmistakable, and
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  it was too narrow to have been trodden out by a bear. I concluded
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  that Michael had been stupid enough not to hide his tracks, and I accordingly
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  followed it up half a mile further on. My prognosis was confirmed. The
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  trail slid over the high clay bank of the river, in the side of
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  which bank Michael had beaten out footholds for himself. Further examination revealed the half
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  of a broken button and the print of a naked foot. It looked uncommonly
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  likely that he had been accustomed to undress himself hereabouts and swim the river with
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  his saddles in his teeth. So far, so good. I promptly made
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  a bundle of my weapons, which I lashed spar wise across the top of
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  my head, and slid into the stream. By keeping on an apparent bee
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  line for the opposite shore and at the same time letting the current carry me
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  down stream, I landed on the self same fallen tree utilized by his lordship.
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  I noticed where he had broken a branch which had impeded him, and
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  I congratulated myself on my superior cunning. Then I looked over the turf clogged
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  roots. It was a big beach if I remember aright, and behold,
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  I was too late. A new dug furrow in the loose earth below showed
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  where the spears had lain, and the digging was so recent that even as
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  I gazed, a small clod detached itself to roll from top to bottom,
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  but the weapons themselves had been removed, in which case, I said,
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  musing aloud, the disagreeable Michael is not far off. I looked out across
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  the glade. The forest comes down to the river at this point, and
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  then ducked with extreme agility right aftward the patch of atmosphere previously occupied by my
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  head. Floated one of the missing spears, and out into the open gamboled
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  the missing Michael. I did not wait to regret that my bow was still
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  lashed across my skull, but slid promptly down the inclined trunk into the water.
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  I had time to kick off a stroke or two from the landing place
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  before the enemy's head appeared above the beach's route hullo, said Quelch, and
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  seemed at a loss for further conversation. I swum a leisurely stroke or two
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  more on my back. Why did you do that, I demanded sternly.
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  I I because why, here, he cried, suddenly remembering that he was
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  upper dog at the moment. Here you come back? Why should I come
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  back? I want my clothes. The unfortunate Quelch still appeared incapable of seizing
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  his advantage. With as much dignity as I could assume under the circumstances,
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  and a power of secret terror, I steadily increased the distance between us.
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  Here is your spear, I called, do you want it? I want
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  a chalt to you, shouted Quelch. I. Suddenly it dawned upon him
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  that he had been bluffed, and with an indignant yell, he let fly
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  a second shot. I had an anxious moment, but managed to parry it
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  with the spear which I had picked up. I do not waste time with
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  further conversation now that the spell was broken, but turned over and started on
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  a strong trudge and stroke for the opposite bank. If you're man enough,
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  I called, why don't you follow me into the water. I imagine that
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  last happy thought saved my life. But then even a stupid man does get
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  quite brilliant under the influence of the fear of death. I heard Quelch drop
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  his other weapons and draw his knee. It was not until he had run
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  out to the end of the tree that he realized what an ass he was.
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  I was morally certain to reach the shore at least twenty yards ahead of
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  him, whereby our relative positions would automatically readjust themselves. Come along, Michael,
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  I mocked. The water is pleasantly warm. The incoming tide had checked
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  the current. I was far enough downstream to feel its influence, so I
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  landed only a matter of a hundred yards below the point where I had left
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  my clothes. Qulch followed me along the other bank, shaking his beastly spears
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  at me. You think Yer Bloomy's smart, he shrilled, But you mark
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  my words, mister Bloominghorpe. I'll get Yer by I'll get Yer, and
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  you can tell your bulgarian Powell. I'll get him too. Now it is
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  a strange thing. I had firmly intended to parley with Quelch. I wanted
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  to give him all the chance possible, for after all, there were only
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  three men to our knowledge in the known world, and there should have been
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  room for us. Just as I was opening my mouth to speak, however,
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  a picture of his recent handiwork up the brook seemed to flash up into
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  realistic color before me. Mechanically, I strung my bow, Quelch, I
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  called softly across the water. Quelch turned his head and next moment rolled,
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  shrieking and bubbling on the turf. The arrow had struck him full in the
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  mouth, piercing his cheek and feathers, and all had passed clean out below
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  his right ear. I drew a strong bow in those days. It was
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  useless trying to cross the river again whilst he yet lay in wait for me,
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  so I reluctantly turned back. I was still shaking with a savage rage
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  which had gripped me so suddenly, and I gloated on the harm I had
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  done. Half way home. It occurred to me that with all the training
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  of an age old civilization behind me, I had behaved just as one would
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  expect any other primitive savage to behave. In like case, then I felt
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  very small and ashamed of myself. End of Chapter twenty six, read by
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  Tim Row in London, twenty twenty three.