The World of the Variants

by J. -H. Rosny aîné

  For several days I was able to find myself alone with Touanhô without feeling any further tender torment. Those days were, moreover, quite charming. Awah, having announced that I had given blood, treated me as an authentic descendant of the Mammoth. The souls of these beings seemed to me so precise that, at times, I thought I had been transported back in time 15,000 years, and I cannot describe the extraordinary sense of renewal and the immortal poetry that accompanied the impression in question.

  Because of my weakness, I was dissuaded from visiting the caves.

  On the fourth day, I said: “I am strong, Touanhô. Shall we go to the caves?”

  She understood, and started laughing, for she had a cheerful temperament. Touanhô went to the back of the cave and said: “It is necessary to push this stone.”

  The block in question, which was plugging a breach, was wider than it was deep. We pushed it on its smoother edge; it rotated slowly on its axis, uncovering an opening into which we went. The same phosphorescence that illuminated the exterior cave lit the corridor. After ten paces or so, we emerged into a spacious grotto, irregular in form, in which I discerned tools, weapons and carved objects; in places, the wall had been polished and blank but expert hands had drawn the figures of animals, and even of men, thereupon. One of those walls—the tallest—hypnotized me. The designs that it bore must have dated from a more remote era than the others, as was revealed by their appearance, more especially by the fact that they represented vanished animals, including reindeer, a saiga, horses with enormous heads and a cave-bear.

  “Touanhô!” I exclaimed, excitedly. “No living being has seen these animals!”

  “No,” she said. “Wanawanoûm”—that was the old man—“says that the mothers of his mothers never encountered them. That was the time when the Sons of the Mammoth filled the Earth.”

  “What about the others? Did Awah draw them?”

  “No, but some were drawn by Wanawanoûm’s uncles.”

  I do not know whether you can understand the tumultuous sentiments that swelled in my breast, which resembled religious exaltation.

  “There are other caves,” said Touanhô, who did not understand my silence.

  We descended an exceedingly steep slope and a new grotto opened its vast flanks. Far from diminishing, the light had grown brighter. Skeletons, some of them thousands of years old, were drying out on the ground—human skeletons, entire or nearly so, and the fragmentary skeletons of horses, saigas, reindeer and cave-bears. The works of art were scarcer and in worse condition; the walls only displayed sparse designs. This cavern had only been inhabited at intervals, for relatively short periods of time.

  In the next cave my enthusiasm was renewed, followed by a veritable ecstasy. As I learned much later, it had communicated once directly with the exterior; a landslide had sealed it off in prehistoric times. It contained even more sculpted and engraved works than the first. A battle between a cave-bear and a gray bear revealed an artistry almost equal to that of our great animal painters.

  While I was dreaming, almost moved to tears, Touanhô had drawn closer. On seeing my moist eyes, she threw her arm around my shoulders.

  “Is Alglâ ill?”

  I took her in my arms, squeezing her waist gently. The gesture did not fail to astonish her, but also to charm her. She leaned against my breast. Her eyes gave off a mysterious gleam; her red mouth was there, half-open over the sparkling shell-like teeth.

  I saw myself lost in the night of time, with that woman, so young and so ancient; my lips descended. Surprised, Touanhô recoiled; I embraced her more tightly; my lips took hers, and suddenly, as if by a revelation, she took part in the unfamiliar caress.

  In the caverns of ancient humankind, I espoused the daughter of those who carved stone and horn on the banks of virginal rivers on the edge of carnivore-infested forests.

  There was one more cave, lower-down and rugged, in which human presence was revealed by fairly scarce traces. I sat down there, in a dreamy lassitude. Eventually, my attention was attracted by a scintillation; leaning forward, I saw a sort of pebble from which a glimmer had sprung. The brightness of the fracture-line was striking; I examined it curiously. Something ardent passed through my flesh: the frisson of a fortune, which resembled the frisson of the marvelous. I was holding a massive diamond—and the walls of the cave undoubtedly contained others.

  For a minute I was subject to the fascination of the fabulous stone, and then I started laughing. In that lost land, it was not even worth as much as a harpoon or an axe!

  “Let’s go see the Sun again,” I said to Touanhô.

  August passed; the pale stars of September rotated in melancholy fashion in the sky. The temperature decreased.

  Awah no longer left me alone with Touanhô. His voice was sharp; his taciturnity seemed to increase. One morning, he said to the young woman: “Touanhô is going hunting with me!”

  There was no mistaking his intention. It was the season in which he ceased to be merely the young woman’s companion and became her master. She looked at him with her fiery eyes.

  “Touanhô is tired!”

  A grim anxiety appeared in his face, which resembled dread. Jealousy ran through my breast like a jet of vitriol; hatred made my hands tremble.

  Vehemently, Awah said: “Touanhô must come!”

  She looked up at me, without suspecting my jealousy—but the sentiment of preference had entered into her soul. Undoubtedly, Awah seemed to her to be superior to me, but she knew that he was rough…

  As she did not budge, he adopted his commanding voice: “Touanhô!”

  Rage and a frightful distress ravaged me.

  VI.

  Touanhô had risen to her feet; she was submissive. I was demoted to the second rank; not only was the superiority of Awah accepted, but it seemed to me that it was accepted without displeasure. The primitive woman was thinking less of secret moments spent with me, than times past, 12 months before, with her master.

  Already the couple were drawing away. The scene seemed to me so decisive that all revolt ceased. My recent mentality yielded to ancestral fatalities. What right had I to fight against Awah? I had taken his wife, the daughter of his race, without his deigning even to notice it. He was taking her back at the time when the sacred instinct instructed him to do so; any dispute would have been odious and iniquitous…

  My suffering was no less bitter for that. I watched their lithe silhouettes draw away; my arteries pulsed desperately; large tears ran down my cheeks.

  One chagrin followed another for days. The fortunate lack of foresight was no more. In that savage life, I was subject to the mental miseries of civilized life. Touanhô scarcely looked at me. Subservient to all Awah’s movements, she went hunting with him and sat next to him in the cave. He behaved in a tyrannical and exclusive manner. The same instinct that drives the stag into the autumnal forest filled him with suspicion, sometimes with pugnacity. He avoided me; he was even more taciturn than usual, and no longer carved either stones or antlers.

  One morning, when I was sitting on the threshold of the cave, I noticed Namhâ, the adolescent girl, playing with the child. Since being abandoned by Touanhô I found her beside me more frequently. Naturally less familiar than the young woman, she had a kind of passive gentleness that was not without charm. That morning, I noticed a certain mysterious languor in her, and her fiery eyes occasionally became fixed, very wide, full of a “panic” dreaminess. I had never seen her so seductive. She was at the divine age when almost all the daughters of men have their grace, even the ugly, and Namhâ had received the gifts of brightness, youth and suppleness.

  I sat there for a while, bathed in the vague sweetness that accompanies nascent hopes. Then I got up, with the aim of going to collect grains, nuts and roots for the winter provisions. Just as I set of into the open at a brisk pace, Namhâ and the child moved sideways and found themselves in my way. Namhâ stopped, looking at me in a strange, almost fearful fashion, and suddenly fled toward the eastern
corner of the rock-face.

  “Namhâ!” I shouted, in surprise.

  Instinctively, I had followed her. She stopped, and turned to look at me again, and then bounded away and started running again.

  One might think that she’s afraid of me! I thought.

  I stopped following her, wondering periodically why she had adopted that unusual attitude. Perhaps, after all, I had made some awkward gesture that had frightened her.

  Eventually, I stopped thinking about it. Images of Touanhô and Awah began to torment me again, and I was busy gathering mushrooms in a wooded spot when I saw Namhâ, unexpectedly, standing under a beech-tree, half hidden by the trunk. She was watching me, as before, with that same fearful expression.

  “Namhâ!” I cried. “Would you like to help me collect mushrooms?”

  She hesitated; then, quitting her shelter, she took a few steps in my direction. Suddenly, she stopped, agitatedly.

  “Do I frighten you?” I asked.

  I went forward. With a light bound she retreated, then ran away, as nimble and frisky as a goat-kid. That seemed bizarre to me, and I tried to catch up with her. Bushes got in my way, and I decided to abandon a pursuit that might be terrifying her.

  While collecting my mushrooms, I continued to meditate upon the adventure. I saw Namhâ again at the moment when she had stopped, quite distinctly, as if she had been in front of me; I analyzed the expression on her face, reminding myself that she had, after all, followed me. New ideas occurred to me, that I dared not develop too far, for fear of disappointment.

  When I returned, I met the old women, Howouoï, with the child. “Have you seen Namhâ?” she asked.

  I thought I glimpsed curiosity in her wrinkled face and said: “I did see Namhâ. I spoke to her and she ran away.”

  Howouoï looked at me for a moment silently, and then began to laugh. “Namhâ has become a woman. Perhaps Namhâ followed…”

  My heart began to beat faster; any ambiguity as to the meaning of the incident was erased; Namhâ was following an instinct born before humankind, in the forests and savannahs.

  “May Alglâ follow Namhâ?” I asked.

  “Has Alglâ not become a Son of the Mammoth?” Howouoï riposted.

  “What if Awah wants to follow Namhâ?”

  Howouoï started laughing again. “Awah is Touanhô’s master. There are only two women among us, and there are two men.”

  Chagrin vanished from my heart like mist from a stream, and I looked at the yellow September Sun with joy.

  I did not see Namhâ again until it was time for sleep. In the cave, among the others, the young girl behaved as naturally as usual, but the following day, she remained invisible or only appeared in company. I resolved to catch her, and the day after, I set off on the warpath. I climbed to the top of mounds, hillocks and rocks, slyly exploring the surroundings.

  After two hours of vain research, I hoisted myself up on to an erratically-shaped block of stone, from which my view commanded a broad extent. For some time, I could not see anything, and I was about to get down again when I distinctly perceived Namhâ’s silhouette, near a wood of beeches and birches. Taking advantage of the uneven terrain, I succeeded in getting to within three or four paces of her without being seen—but then she slipped away and disappeared into the wood.

  I ran after her. Once, I was only a few steps behind her, and leapt forward to seize her, when she slid into a bush and buried herself within it. I had no hesitation in following her, but at that game, in which I was less expert than her, I lost ground. When I emerged again, her silhouette was disappearing into the forest.

  For more than an hour I tried to pick up her trail. I found it suddenly, by chance. The pursuit began again, ardent and subtle. Every time I was on the point of catching up with the girl, she found some new trick; besides which, her knowledge of the area was superior to mine. Nevertheless, I succeeded in guiding her from the confines of the wood to the plain. She tried to get back under cover, but I barred the way. Then, as if despairing, she decided to flee in a straight line.

  She was heading for the cave. At first, she succeeded in maintaining the distance between us; I had, after all, expended much more energy than she had, because she had been able to rest while under cover. After a quarter of an hour of pursuit, however, I had gained ground, and I had nearly reached her when she climbed up on to a block of stone—the very same misshapen block from which I had seen her.

  Because the block was only accessible on one side, the maneuver left her at my discretion. I hoisted myself up in my turn. When I arrived on top, she tried to push me away.

  “Namhâ!” I murmured, in a supplicant tone.

  She was out of breath; her effort weakened; I found myself beside her.

  Then a veritable terror appeared on her face. She recoiled to the very pinnacle of the rock, which overhung slightly, and uttered a long moan.

  VII.

  “Why is Namhâ afraid?” I asked.

  “Will Alglâ strike as hard as Awah?” she sighed, shivering. “Awah almost killed Touanhô!”

  “Alglâ will not strike!” I replied, softly.

  The girl looked at me with extreme suspicion, mingled with disdain. “The Sons of the Mammoth cannot unite with a girl without striking her. Their posterity would be annihilated.”

  These words did not surprise me overmuch; they were in conformity with the mores of many primitive populations whose customs have been described to us by travelers—but they embarrassed me. All my instincts rebelled at the idea of striking a woman. It was, however, necessary. Namhâ’s gaze showed that she would not yield to a man who did not understand ritual violence.

  “Alglâ will do as all the Sons of the Mammoth do,” I declared.

  Then the terror reappeared in the young face and paralyzed me. To gain time, I said: “Let’s go back into the wood.”

  She followed me in silence, doubtless torn between her dread and a sentiment of the inevitable.

  A fine affair! I thought. Men who hit women are not even rare in our civilized milieu—and it is still without the consent of the latter.

  I was still irresolute when we found ourselves under cover. As before with Touanhô, but even more forcefully, I was intoxicated by the youth of the world. I trembled as I looked at the fascinating primitive and, moved by a sort of ancestral violence, suddenly lifted my fist and struck Namhâ on the head. She released a feeble plaint, and pressed herself against me. I put my arms around her. For the second time, I espoused a daughter of an abolished era.

  The days of the long evening were full of sweetness. While the coppery Sun sent forth its impoverished rays, I lost myself in the wilderness with Namhâ. She was my wife, according to customs as scientific as ours; she was charming, in the simple and spontaneous manner of children. In sum, I never loved any woman as much as her. To the exaltation of love was joined a strange sentiment of immortality—the sentiment of an individual who might have lived for 100 centuries and found himself still as full of life as in the epochs when prehistoric herds roamed the immense planet.

  Night fell—the polar night, which would envelop us with stars for six months. It did not interrupt our happiness. We took refuge in the deep caverns, where the temperature was almost immutable. It seemed that the perpetual light that shone within them had increased its intensity. Besides, we were not confined to our new abode. Numerous boreal auroras illuminated the territory. We could still hunt and collect seeds, nuts and mushrooms.

  The mammoths, installed in the summer cave, went out as we did, even when the night became black. They found their pasture on the plain and in the forests, but they ate less and slept more. It was in that period that I familiarized myself with them. The older one turned out to have been stupefied by age; our relationship remained passive. The other demonstrated an intelligence as quick as our elephants. I won its confidence. Nourishment inevitably played a preponderant part in our initial relationship, but the affection to which the habit of being together almost invariably
gives birth, even in stupid creatures, eventually sprang up. The mammoth came to enjoy my presence, independently of any gift of roots or stems—and I tried to domesticate it. I had no definite objective; it seemed obvious to me that the animal might be useful in some fashion.

  It was necessary to proceed prudently. Awah, Wanawanoûm and even Touanhô did not like anything that deviated from their traditions; furthermore, the mammoth was their totem. At first, therefore, I kept my attempts secret, and the mammoth already obeyed me in many things while my companions were still in ignorance.

  A discovery rendered my task less difficult and less delicate. One day, when I had taken Namhâ to a place where the others hardly ever went, I found a singular engraving on a reindeer antler, which must have originated in the final phase of the Magdalenian Era. The engraving depicted a man perched on a mammoth’s back. It seemed to me to be indisputable proof of domestication—perhaps a fortuitous and local domestication, one of those isolated attempts that must often have preceded the achievements of our distant ancestors.

  Awah and Wanawanoûm examined the engraving with a greater interest than they usually brought to events foreign to their routines. I succeeded in persuading them that their ancestors had been accustomed to living more intimately with mammoths than they did; I suggested that we ought to imitate the ancestors. They did not contradict that, although they took no interest in the matter themselves—which, of course, I preferred. I gained the advantage of being able to attribute my attempts at domestication to a revival of ultra-venerable traditions.

  For my savage companions, as for almost all human beings, it was sufficient to break down certain prejudices for the rest to follow. They were initially astonished by what the mammoth consented to do, but then found it quite natural.