In Search of the Unknown

by Robert W. Chambers

  XXI

  "The week passed quickly for me, leaving but few definite impressions.As I look back to it now I can see the long stretch of beach burningin the fierce sunlight, the endless meadows, with the glimmer of waterin the distance, the dunes, the twisted cedars, the leagues ofscintillating ocean, rocking, rocking, always rocking. In the starlitnights the curlew came in from the sand-bars by twos and threes; Icould hear their querulous call as I lay in bed thinking. All day longthe little ring-necks whistled from the shore. The plover answeredthem from distant, lonely inland pools. The great white gulls driftedlike feathers upon the sea.

  "One morning towards the end of the week, I, strolling along thedunes, came upon Frisby. He was bill-posting. I caught him red-handed.

  "'This,' said I, 'must stop. Do you understand, Mr. Frisby?'

  "He stepped back from his work, laying his head on one side,considering first me, then the bill that he had pasted on one of ourbig boilers.

  "'Don't you like the color?' he asked. 'It goes well on them blackboilers.'

  "'Color! No, I don't like the color, either. Can't you understand thatthere are some people in the world who object to seeingpatent-medicine advertisements scattered over a landscape?'

  "'Hey?' he said, perplexed.

  "'Will you kindly remove that advertisement?' I persisted.

  "'Too late,' said Frisby; 'it's sot.'

  "I was too disgusted to speak, but my disgust turned to anger when Iperceived that, as far as the eye could reach, our boilers, lying fromthree to four hundred feet apart, were ablaze with yellow-and-redposters extolling the 'Eureka Liver Pill Company.'

  "'It don't cost 'em nothin',' said Frisby, cheerfully; 'I done it furthe fun of it. Purty, ain't it?'

  "'They are Professor Holroyd's boilers,' I said, subduing a desire tobeat Frisby with my telescope. 'Wait until Miss Holroyd sees thiswork.'

  "'Don't she like yeller and red?' he demanded, anxiously.

  "'You'll find out,' said I.

  "Frisby gaped at his handiwork and then at his yellow dog. After amoment he mechanically spat on a clam-shell and requested Davy to'sic' it.

  "'Can't you comprehend that you have ruined our pleasure in thelandscape?' I asked, more mildly.

  "'I've got some green bills,' said Frisby; 'I kin stick 'em over theyeller ones--'

  "'Confound it,' said I, 'it isn't the color!'

  "'Then,' observed Frisby, 'you don't like them pills. I've got somebills of the "Cropper Automobile" and a few of "Bagley, the Gents'Tailor"--'

  "'Frisby,' said I, 'use them all--paste the whole collection over yourdog and yourself--then walk off the cliff.'

  "He sullenly unfolded a green poster, swabbed the boiler with paste,laid the upper section of the bill upon it, and plastered the wholebill down with a thwack of his brush. As I walked away I heard himmuttering.

  "Next day Daisy was so horrified that I promised to give Frisby anultimatum. I found him with Freda, gazing sentimentally at his work,and I sent him back to the shop in a hurry, telling Freda at the sametime that she could spend her leisure in providing Mr. Frisby withsand, soap, and a scrubbing-brush. Then I walked on to my post ofobservation.

  "I watched until sunset. Daisy came with her father to hear my report,but there was nothing to tell, and we three walked slowly back to thehouse.

  "In the evenings the professor worked on his volumes, the click of histype-writer sounding faintly behind his closed door. Daisy and Iplayed chess sometimes; sometimes we played hearts. I don't rememberthat we ever finished a game of either--we talked too much.

  "Our discussions covered every topic of interest: we argued uponpolitics; we skimmed over literature and music; we settledinternational differences; we spoke vaguely of human brotherhood. Isay we slighted no subject of interest--I am wrong; we never spoke oflove.

  "Now, love is a matter of interest to ten people out of ten. Why itwas that it did not appear to interest us is as interesting a questionas love itself. We were young, alert, enthusiastic, inquiring. Weeagerly absorbed theories concerning any curious phenomena in nature,as intellectual cocktails to stimulate discussion. And yet we did notdiscuss love. I do not say that we avoided it. No; the subject wastoo completely ignored for even that. And yet we found it verydifficult to pass an hour separated. The professor noticed this, andlaughed at us. We were not even embarrassed.

  "Sunday passed in pious contemplation of the ocean. Daisy read alittle in her prayer-book, and the professor threw a cloth over histype-writer and strolled up and down the sands. He may have been lostin devout abstraction; he may have been looking for footprints. As forme, my mind was very serene, and I was more than happy. Daisy read tome a little for my soul's sake, and the professor came up and saidsomething cheerful. He also examined the magazine of my Winchester.

  "That night, too, Daisy took her guitar to the sands and sang one ortwo Basque hymns. Unlike us, the Basques do not take their pleasuressadly. One of their pleasures is evidently religion.

  "The big moon came up over the dunes and stared at the sea until thesurface of every wave trembled with radiance. A sudden stillness fellacross the world; the wind died out; the foam ran noiselessly acrossthe beach; the cricket's rune was stilled.

  "I leaned back, dropping one hand upon the sand. It touched anotherhand, soft and cool.

  "After a while the other hand moved slightly, and I found that my ownhad closed above it. Presently one finger stirred a little--only alittle--for our fingers were interlocked.

  "On the shore the foam-froth bubbled and winked and glimmered in themoonlight. A star fell from the zenith, showering the night withincandescent dust.

  "If our fingers lay interlaced beside us, her eyes were calm andserene as always, wide open, fixed upon the depths of a dark sky. Andwhen her father rose and spoke to us, she did not withdraw her hand.

  "'Is it late?' she asked, dreamily.

  "'It is midnight, little daughter.'

  "I stood up, still holding her hand, and aided her to rise. And when,at the door, I said good-night, she turned and looked at me for alittle while in silence, then passed into her room slowly, with headstill turned towards me.

  "All night long I dreamed of her; and when the east whitened, I sprangup, the thunder of the ocean in my ears, the strong sea-wind blowinginto the open window.

  "'She's asleep,' I thought, and I leaned from the window and peeredout into the east.

  "The sea called to me, tossing its thousand arms; the soaring gulls,dipping, rising, wheeling above the sandbar, screamed and clamored fora playmate. I slipped into my bathing-suit, dropped from the windowupon the soft sand, and in a moment had plunged head foremost into thesurf, swimming beneath the waves towards the open sea.

  "Under the tossing ocean the voice of the waters was in my ears--alow, sweet voice, intimate, mysterious. Through singing foam andbroad, green, glassy depths, by whispering sandy channels atrail withsea-weed, and on, on, out into the vague, cool sea, I sped, rising tothe top, sinking, gliding. Then at last I flung myself out of water,hands raised, and the clamor of the gulls filled my ears.

  "As I lay, breathing fast, drifting on the sea, far out beyond thegulls I saw a flash of white, and an arm was lifted, signalling me.

  "'Daisy!' I called.

  "A clear hail came across the water, distinct on the sea-wind, and atthe same instant we raised our hands and moved towards each other.

  "How we laughed as we met in the sea! The white dawn came up out ofthe depths, the zenith turned to rose and ashes.

  "And with the dawn came the wind--a great sea-wind, fresh, aromatic,that hurled our voices back into our throats and lifted the sheetedspray above our heads. Every wave, crowned with mist, caught us in acool embrace, cradled us, and slipped away, only to leave us toanother wave, higher, stronger, crested with opalescent glory,breathing incense.

  "We turned together up the coast, swimming lightly side by side, butour words were caught up by the winds and whirled into the sky.

  "We looked up at the
driving clouds; we looked out upon the pallidwaste of waters, but it was into each other's eyes we looked,wondering, wistful, questioning the reason of sky and sea And there ineach other's eyes we read the mystery, and we knew that earth and skyand sea were created for us alone.

  "Drifting on by distant sands and dunes, her white fingers touchingmine, we spoke, keying our tones to the wind's vast harmony. And wespoke of love.

  "Gray and wide as the limitless span of the sky and the sea, the windsgathered from the world's ends to bear us on; but they were notfamiliar winds; for now, along the coast, the breakers curled andshowed a million fangs, and the ocean stirred to its depths, uneasy,ominous, and the menace of its murmur drew us closer as we moved.

  "Where the dull thunder and the tossing spray warned us from sunkenreefs, we heard the harsh challenges of gulls; where the pallid surftwisted in yellow coils of spume above the bar, the singing sandsmurmured of treachery and secrets of lost souls agasp in the throes ofsilent undertows.

  "But there was a little stretch of beach glimmering through themountains of water, and towards this we turned, side by side. Aroundus the water grew warmer; the breath of the following waves moistenedour cheeks; the water itself grew gray and strange about us.

  "'We have come too far,' I said; but she only answered:

  "'Faster, faster! I am afraid!' The water was almost hot now; itsaromatic odor filled our lungs.

  "'The Gulf loop!' I muttered. 'Daisy, shall I help you?'

  "'No. Swim--close by me! Oh-h! Dick--'

  "Her startled cry was echoed by another--a shrill scream, unutterablyhorrible--and a great bird flapped from the beach, splashing andbeating its pinions across the water with a thundering noise.

  "Out across the waves it blundered, rising little by little from thewater, and now, to my horror, I saw another monstrous bird swinging inthe air above it, squealing as it turned on its vast wings. Before Icould speak we touched the beach, and I half lifted her to the shore.

  "'Quick!' I repeated. 'We must not wait.'

  "Her eyes were dark with fear, but she rested a hand on my shoulder,and we crept up among the dune-grasses and sank down by the point ofsand where the rough shelter stood, surrounded by the iron-ringedpiles.

  "She lay there, breathing fast and deep, dripping with spray. I had nopower of speech left, but when I rose wearily to my knees and lookedout upon the water my blood ran cold. Above the ocean, on the breastof the roaring wind, three enormous birds sailed, turning and wheelingamong one another; and below, drifting with the gray stream of theGulf loop, a colossal bulk lay half submerged--a gigantic lizard,floating belly upward.

  "Then Daisy crept kneeling to my side and touched me, trembling fromhead to foot.

  "'I know,' I muttered. 'I must run back for the rifle.'

  "'And--and leave me?'

  "I took her by the hand, and we dragged ourselves through thewire-grass to the open end of a boiler lying in the sand.

  "She crept in on her hands and knees, and called to me to follow.

  "'You are safe now,' I cried. 'I must go back for the rifle.'

  "'The birds may--may attack you.'

  "'If they do I can get into one of the other boilers,' I said. 'Daisy,you must not venture out until I come back. You won't, will you?'

  "'No-o,' she whispered, doubtfully.

  "'Then--good-bye.'

  "'Good-bye,' she answered, but her voice was very small and still.

  "'Good-bye,' I said again. I was kneeling at the mouth of the bigiron tunnel; it was dark inside and I could not see her, but, before Iwas conscious of it, her arms were around my neck and we had kissedeach other.

  "I don't remember how I went away. When I came to my proper senses Iwas swimming along the coast at full speed, and over my head wheeledone of the birds, screaming at every turn.

  "The intoxication of that innocent embrace, the close impress of herarms around my neck, gave me a strength and recklessness that neitherfear nor fatigue could subdue. The bird above me did not even frightenme. I watched it over my shoulder, swimming strongly, with the tidenow aiding me, now stemming my course; but I saw the shore passingquickly, and my strength increased, and I shouted when I came in sightof the house, and scrambled up on the sand, dripping and excited.There was nobody in sight, and I gave a last glance up into the airwhere the bird wheeled, still screeching, and hastened into the house.Freda stared at me in amazement as I seized the rifle and shouted forthe professor.

  "'He has just gone to town, with Captain McPeek in his wagon,'stammered Freda.

  "'What!' I cried. 'Does he know where his daughter is?'

  "'Miss Holroyd is asleep--not?' gasped Freda.

  "'Where's Frisby?' I cried, impatiently.

  "'Yimmie?' quavered Freda.

  "'Yes, Jimmie; isn't there anybody here? Good Heavens! where's thatman in the shop?'

  "'He also iss gone,' said Freda, shedding tears, 'to buy papier-mache.Yimmie, he iss gone to post bills.'

  "I waited to hear no more, but swung my rifle over my shoulder, and,hanging the cartridge-belt across my chest, hurried out and up thebeach. The bird was not in sight.

  "I had been running for perhaps a minute when, far up on the dunes, Isaw a yellow dog rush madly through a clump of sweet-bay, and at thesame moment a bird soared past, rose, and hung hovering just above thethicket. Suddenly the bird swooped; there was a shriek and a yelp fromthe cur, but the bird gripped it in one claw and beat its wings uponthe sand, striving to rise. Then I saw Frisby--paste, bucket, andbrush raised--fall upon the bird, yelling lustily. The fierce creaturerelaxed its talons, and the dog rushed on, squeaking with terror. Thebird turned on Frisby and sent him sprawling on his face, a stickymass of paste and sand. But this did not end the struggle. The bird,croaking horridly, flew at the prostrate bill-poster, and the sandwhirled into a pillar above its terrible wings. Scarcely knowing whatI was about, I raised my rifle and fired twice. A scream echoed eachshot, and the bird rose heavily in a shower of sand; but two bulletswere embedded in that mass of foul feathers, and I saw the wires andscarlet tape uncoiling on the sand at my feet. In an instant I seizedthem and passed the ends around a cedar-tree, hooking the claspstight. Then I cast one swift glance upward, where the bird wheeled,screeching, anchored like a kite to the pallium wires; and I hurriedon across the dunes, the shells cutting my feet and the bushes tearingmy wet swimming-suit, until I dripped with blood from shoulder toankle. Out in the ocean the carcass of the thermosaurus floated, clawsoutspread, belly glistening in the gray light, and over him circledtwo birds. As I reached the shelter I knelt and fired into the mass ofscales, and at my first shot a horrible thing occurred--thelizard-like head writhed, the slitted yellow eyes sliding open fromthe film that covered them. A shudder passed across the undulatingbody, the great scaled belly heaved, and one leg feebly clawed at theair.

  "The thing was still alive!

  "Crushing back the horror that almost paralyzed my hands, I plantedshot after shot into the quivering reptile, while it writhed andclawed, striving to turn over and dive; and at each shot the blackblood spurted in long, slim jets across the water. And now Daisy wasat my side, pale and determined, swiftly clasping each tape-markedwire to the iron rings in the circle around us. Twice I filled themagazine from my belt, and twice I poured streams of steel-tippedbullets into the scaled mass, twisting and shuddering on the sea.Suddenly the birds steered towards us. I felt the wind from their vastwings. I saw the feathers erect, vibrating. I saw the spread clawsoutstretched, and I struck furiously at them, crying to Daisy to runinto the iron shelter. Backing, swinging my clubbed rifle, Iretreated, but I tripped across one of the taut pallium wires, and inan instant the hideous birds were on me, and the bone in my forearmsnapped like a pipe-stem at a blow from their wings. Twice I struggledto my knees, blinded with blood, confused, almost fainting; then Ifell again, rolling into the mouth of the iron boiler.

  * * * * *

  "When I struggled back to consciousness Daisy kn
elt silently besideme, while Captain McPeek and Professor Holroyd bound up my shatteredarm, talking excitedly. The pain made me faint and dizzy. I tried tospeak and could not. At last they got me to my feet and into thewagon, and Daisy came, too, and crouched beside me, wrapped inoilskins to her eyes. Fatigue, lack of food, and excitement hadcombined with wounds and broken bones to extinguish the last atom ofstrength in my body; but my mind was clear enough to understand thatthe trouble was over and the thermosaurus safe.

  "I heard McPeek say that one of the birds that I had anchored to acedar-tree had torn loose from the bullets and had winged its wayheavily out to sea. The professor answered: 'Yes, the ekaf-bird; theothers were ool-ylliks. I'd have given my right arm to have securedthem.' Then for a time I heard no more; but the jolting of the wagonover the dunes roused me to keenest pain, and I held out my right handto Daisy. She clasped it in both of hers, and kissed it again andagain.

  * * * * *

  "There is little more to add, I think. Professor Bruce Stoddard'sscientific pamphlet will be published soon, to be followed byProfessor Holroyd's sixteen volumes. In a few days the stuffed andmounted thermosaurus will be placed on free public exhibition in thearena of Madison Square Garden, the only building in the city largeenough to contain the body of this immense winged reptile."

  * * * * *

  The young man hesitated, looking long and earnestly at Miss Barrison.

  "Did you marry her?" she asked, softly.

  "You wouldn't believe it," said the young man, earnestly--"youwouldn't believe it, after all that happened, if I should tell youthat she married Professor Bruce Stoddard, of Columbia--would you?"

  "Yes, I would," said Miss Barrison. "You never can tell what a girlwill do."

  "That story of yours," I said, "is to me the most wonderful andvaluable contribution to nature study that it has ever been my fortuneto listen to. You are fitted to write; it is your sacred mission toproduce. Are you going to?"

  "I am writing," said the young man, quietly, "a nature book. Sir PeterGrebe's magnificent monograph on the speckled titmouse inspired me.But nature study is not what I have chosen as my life's mission."

  He looked dreamily across at Miss Barrison. "No, not naturalphenomena," he repeated, "but unnatural phenomena. What ProfessorHyssop has done for Columbia, I shall attempt to do for Harvard. Infact, I have already accepted the chair of Psychical Phenomena atCambridge."

  I gazed upon him with intense respect.

  "A personal experience revealed to me my life's work," he, went on,thoughtfully stroking his blond mustache. "If Miss Barrison would careto hear it--"

  "Please tell it," she said, sweetly.

  "I shall have to relate it clothed in that artificial garb known asliterary style," he explained, deprecatingly.

  "It doesn't matter," I said, "I never noticed any style at all in yourstory of the thermosaurus."

  He smiled gratefully, and passed his hand over his face; a far-awayexpression came into his eyes, and he slowly began, hesitating, asthough talking to himself: