CHAPTER XVIII. DEAD OR ALIVE?
I went walking on, still facing the moon, who, not yet high, was staringstraight into the forest. I did not know what ailed her, but shewas dark and dented, like a battered disc of old copper, and lookeddispirited and weary. Not a cloud was nigh to keep her company, and thestars were too bright for her. "Is this going to last for ever?" sheseemed to say. She was going one way and I was going the other, yetthrough the wood we went a long way together. We did not commune much,for my eyes were on the ground; but her disconsolate look was fixed onme: I felt without seeing it. A long time we were together, I and themoon, walking side by side, she the dull shine, and I the live shadow.
Something on the ground, under a spreading tree, caught my eye with itswhiteness, and I turned toward it. Vague as it was in the shadow ofthe foliage, it suggested, as I drew nearer, a human body. "Anotherskeleton!" I said to myself, kneeling and laying my hand upon it. A bodyit was, however, and no skeleton, though as nearly one as body couldwell be. It lay on its side, and was very cold--not cold like a stone,but cold like that which was once alive, and is alive no more. Thecloser I looked at it, the oftener I touched it, the less it seemedpossible it should be other than dead. For one bewildered moment, Ifancied it one of the wild dancers, a ghostly Cinderella, perhaps,that had lost her way home, and perished in the strange night of anout-of-door world! It was quite naked, and so worn that, even in theshadow, I could, peering close, have counted without touching them,every rib in its side. All its bones, indeed, were as visible as iftight-covered with only a thin elastic leather. Its beautiful yetterrible teeth, unseemly disclosed by the retracted lips, gleamedghastly through the dark. Its hair was longer than itself, thick andvery fine to the touch, and black as night.
It was the body of a tall, probably graceful woman.--How had she comethere? Not of herself, and already in such wasted condition, surely! Herstrength must have failed her; she had fallen, and lain there until shedied of hunger! But how, even so, could she be thus emaciated? And howcame she to be naked? Where were the savages to strip and leave her?or what wild beasts would have taken her garments? That her body shouldhave been left was not wonderful!
I rose to my feet, stood, and considered. I must not, could not let herlie exposed and forsaken! Natural reverence forbade it. Even thegarment of a woman claims respect; her body it were impossible to leaveuncovered! Irreverent eyes might look on it! Brutal claws might tossit about! Years would pass ere the friendly rains washed it into thesoil!--But the ground was hard, almost solid with interlacing roots, andI had but my bare hands!
At first it seemed plain that she had not long been dead: there was nota sign of decay about her! But then what had the slow wasting of lifeleft of her to decay?
Could she be still alive? Might she not? What if she were! Things wentvery strangely in this strange world! Even then there would be littlechance of bringing her back, but I must know she was dead before Iburied her!
As I left the forest-hall, I had spied in the doorway a bunch of ripegrapes, and brought it with me, eating as I came: a few were yet left onthe stalk, and their juice might possibly revive her! Anyhow it was allI had with which to attempt her rescue! The mouth was happily a littleopen; but the head was in such an awkward position that, to move thebody, I passed my arm under the shoulder on which it lay, when I foundthe pine-needles beneath it warm: she could not have been any time dead,and MIGHT still be alive, though I could discern no motion of the heart,or any indication that she breathed! One of her hands was clenched hard,apparently inclosing something small. I squeezed a grape into her mouth,but no swallowing followed.
To do for her all I could, I spread a thick layer of pine-needles anddry leaves, laid one of my garments over it, warm from my body, liftedher upon it, and covered her with my clothes and a great heap of leaves:I would save the little warmth left in her, hoping an increase to itwhen the sun came back. Then I tried another grape, but could perceiveno slightest movement of mouth or throat.
"Doubt," I said to myself, "may be a poor encouragement to do anything,but it is a bad reason for doing nothing." So tight was the skin uponher bones that I dared not use friction.
I crept into the heap of leaves, got as close to her as I could, andtook her in my arms. I had not much heat left in me, but what I hadI would share with her! Thus I spent what remained of the night,sleepless, and longing for the sun. Her cold seemed to radiate into me,but no heat to pass from me to her.
Had I fled from the beautiful sleepers, I thought, each on her "dim,straight" silver couch, to lie alone with such a bedfellow! I hadrefused a lovely privilege: I was given over to an awful duty! Beneaththe sad, slow-setting moon, I lay with the dead, and watched for thedawn.
The darkness had given way, and the eastern horizon was growing dimlyclearer, when I caught sight of a motion rather than of anythingthat moved--not far from me, and close to the ground. It was the lowundulating of a large snake, which passed me in an unswerving line.Presently appeared, making as it seemed for the same point, what I tookfor a roebuck-doe and her calf. Again a while, and two creatures likebear-cubs came, with three or four smaller ones behind them. The lightwas now growing so rapidly that when, a few minutes after, a troop ofhorses went trotting past, I could see that, although the largest ofthem were no bigger than the smallest Shetland pony, they must yet befull-grown, so perfect were they in form, and so much had they all theways and action of great horses. They were of many breeds. Some seemedmodels of cart-horses, others of chargers, hunters, racers. Dwarf cattleand small elephants followed.
"Why are the children not here!" I said to myself. "The moment I am freeof this poor woman, I must go back and fetch them!"
Where were the creatures going? What drew them? Was this an exodus, ora morning habit? I must wait for the sun! Till he came I must not leavethe woman! I laid my hand on the body, and could not help thinking itfelt a trifle warmer. It might have gained a little of the heat I hadlost! it could hardly have generated any! What reason for hope there washad not grown less!
The forehead of the day began to glow, and soon the sun came peering up,as if to see for the first time what all this stir of a new world wasabout. At sight of his great innocent splendour, I rose full of life,strong against death. Removing the handkerchief I had put to protect themouth and eyes from the pine-needles, I looked anxiously to see whetherI had found a priceless jewel, or but its empty case.
The body lay motionless as when I found it. Then first, in the morninglight, I saw how drawn and hollow was the face, how sharp were the bonesunder the skin, how every tooth shaped itself through the lips. Thehuman garment was indeed worn to its threads, but the bird of heavenmight yet be nestling within, might yet awake to motion and song!
But the sun was shining on her face! I re-arranged the handkerchief,laid a few leaves lightly over it, and set out to follow the creatures.Their main track was well beaten, and must have long been used--likewisemany of the tracks that, joining it from both sides, merged in, andbroadened it. The trees retreated as I went, and the grass grew thicker.Presently the forest was gone, and a wide expanse of loveliest greenstretched away to the horizon. Through it, along the edge of the forest,flowed a small river, and to this the track led. At sight of the water anew though undefined hope sprang up in me. The stream looked everywheredeep, and was full to the brim, but nowhere more than a few yards wide.A bluish mist rose from it, vanishing as it rose. On the opposite side,in the plentiful grass, many small animals were feeding. Apparently theyslept in the forest, and in the morning sought the plain, swimming theriver to reach it. I knelt and would have drunk, but the water was hot,and had a strange metallic taste.
I leapt to my feet: here was the warmth I sought--the first necessity oflife! I sped back to my helpless charge.
Without well considering my solitude, no one will understand what seemedto lie for me in the redemption of this woman from death. "Prove whatshe may," I thought with myself, "I shall at least be lonely no more!" Ihad found myself such poo
r company that now first I seemed to know whathope was. This blessed water would expel the cold death, and drown mydesolation!
I bore her to the stream. Tall as she was, I found her marvellouslylight, her bones were so delicate, and so little covered them. I grewyet more hopeful when I found her so far from stiff that I could carryher on one arm, like a sleeping child, leaning against my shoulder. Iwent softly, dreading even the wind of my motion, and glad there was noother.
The water was too hot to lay her at once in it: the shock might scarefrom her the yet fluttering life! I laid her on the bank, and dippingone of my garments, began to bathe the pitiful form. So wasted was itthat, save from the plentifulness and blackness of the hair, it wasimpossible even to conjecture whether she was young or old. Her eyelidswere just not shut, which made her look dead the more: there was a crackin the clouds of her night, at which no sun shone through!
The longer I went on bathing the poor bones, the less grew my hope thatthey would ever again be clothed with strength, that ever those eyelidswould lift, and a soul look out; still I kept bathing continuously,allowing no part time to grow cold while I bathed another; and graduallythe body became so much warmer, that at last I ventured to submerge it:I got into the stream and drew it in, holding the face above the water,and letting the swift, steady current flow all about the rest. I noted,but was able to conclude nothing from the fact, that, for all the heat,the shut hand never relaxed its hold.
After about ten minutes, I lifted it out and laid it again on the bank,dried it, and covered it as well as I could, then ran to the forest forleaves.
The grass and soil were dry and warm; and when I returned I thought ithad scarcely lost any of the heat the water had given it. I spread theleaves upon it, and ran for more--then for a third and a fourth freight.
I could now leave it and go to explore, in the hope of discoveringsome shelter. I ran up the stream toward some rocky hills I saw in thatdirection, which were not far off.
When I reached them, I found the river issuing full grown from a rockat the bottom of one of them. To my fancy it seemed to have run down astair inside, an eager cataract, at every landing wild to get out, butonly at the foot finding a door of escape.
It did not fill the opening whence it rushed, and I crept through into alittle cave, where I learned that, instead of hurrying tumultuously downa stair, it rose quietly from the ground at the back like the base ofa large column, and ran along one side, nearly filling a deep, rathernarrow channel. I considered the place, and saw that, if I could finda few fallen boughs long enough to lie across the channel, and largeenough to bear a little weight without bending much, I might, withsmaller branches and plenty of leaves, make upon them a comfortablecouch, which the stream under would keep constantly warm. Then I ranback to see how my charge fared.
She was lying as I had left her. The heat had not brought her to life,but neither had it developed anything to check farther hope. I got a fewboulders out of the channel, and arranged them at her feet and on bothsides of her.
Running again to the wood, I had not to search long ere I found somesmall boughs fit for my purpose--mostly of beech, their dry yellowleaves yet clinging to them. With these I had soon laid the floor of abridge-bed over the torrent. I crossed the boughs with smaller branches,interlaced these with twigs, and buried all deep in leaves and dry moss.
When thus at length, after not a few journeys to the forest, I hadcompleted a warm, dry, soft couch, I took the body once more, and setout with it for the cave. It was so light that now and then as I wentI almost feared lest, when I laid it down, I should find it a skeletonafter all; and when at last I did lay it gently on the pathless bridge,it was a greater relief to part with that fancy than with the weight.Once more I covered the body with a thick layer of leaves; and tryingagain to feed her with a grape, found to my joy that I could open themouth a little farther. The grape, indeed, lay in it unheeded, but Ihoped some of the juice might find its way down.
After an hour or two on the couch, she was no longer cold. The warmth ofthe brook had interpenetrated her frame--truly it was but a frame!--andshe was warm to the touch;--not, probably, with the warmth of life, butwith a warmth which rendered it more possible, if she were alive, thatshe might live. I had read of one in a trance lying motionless forweeks!
In that cave, day after day, night after night, seven long days andnights, I sat or lay, now waking now sleeping, but always watching.Every morning I went out and bathed in the hot stream, and every morningfelt thereupon as if I had eaten and drunk--which experience gave mecourage to lay her in it also every day. Once as I did so, a shadow ofdiscoloration on her left side gave me a terrible shock, but the nextmorning it had vanished, and I continued the treatment--every morning,after her bath, putting a fresh grape in her mouth.
I too ate of the grapes and other berries I found in the forest; but Ibelieved that, with my daily bath in that river, I could have done verywell without eating at all.
Every time I slept, I dreamed of finding a wounded angel, who, unable tofly, remained with me until at last she loved me and would not leave me;and every time I woke, it was to see, instead of an angel-visage withlustrous eyes, the white, motionless, wasted face upon the couch. ButAdam himself, when first he saw her asleep, could not have looked moreanxiously for Eve's awaking than I watched for this woman's. Adam knewnothing of himself, perhaps nothing of his need of another self; I, analien from my fellows, had learned to love what I had lost! Were thisone wasted shred of womanhood to disappear, I should have nothing in mebut a consuming hunger after life! I forgot even the Little Ones: thingswere not amiss with them! here lay what might wake and be a woman! mightactually open eyes, and look out of them upon me!
Now first I knew what solitude meant--now that I gazed on one whoneither saw nor heard, neither moved nor spoke. I saw now that a manalone is but a being that may become a man--that he is but a need, andtherefore a possibility. To be enough for himself, a being must bean eternal, self-existent worm! So superbly constituted, so simplycomplicate is man; he rises from and stands upon such a pedestal oflower physical organisms and spiritual structures, that no atmospherewill comfort or nourish his life, less divine than that offered by othersouls; nowhere but in other lives can he breathe. Only by the reflex ofother lives can he ripen his specialty, develop the idea of himself,the individuality that distinguishes him from every other. Were all menalike, each would still have an individuality, secured by his personalconsciousness, but there would be small reason why there should be morethan two or three such; while, for the development of the differenceswhich make a large and lofty unity possible, and which alone canmake millions into a church, an endless and measureless influence andreaction are indispensable. A man to be perfect--complete, that is,in having reached the spiritual condition of persistent and universalgrowth, which is the mode wherein he inherits the infinitude of hisFather--must have the education of a world of fellow-men. Save for thehope of the dawn of life in the form beside me, I should have fled forfellowship to the beasts that grazed and did not speak. Better to goabout with them--infinitely better--than to live alone! But with thefaintest prospect of a woman to my friend, I, poorest of creatures, wasyet a possible man!
Lilith: A Romance Page 18