Chapter XII.
I surveyed it with the utmost attention. All its parts appeared equallysolid and smooth. It could not be doubted that one of its sides servedthe purpose of a lid, and was possible to be raised. Mere strength couldnot be applied to raise it, because there was no projecture which mightbe firmly held by the hand, and by which force could be exerted. Somespring, therefore, secretly existed, which might forever elude thesenses, but on which the hand, by being moved over it in all directions,might accidentally light.
This process was effectual. A touch, casually applied at an angle, droveback a bolt, and a spring, at the same time, was set in action, by whichthe lid was raised above half an inch. No event could be supposed morefortuitous than this. A hundred hands might have sought in vain for thisspring. The spot in which a certain degree of pressure was sufficient toproduce this effect was, of all, the least likely to attract notice orawaken suspicion.
I opened the trunk with eagerness. The space within was divided intonumerous compartments, none of which contained any thing of moment.Tools of different and curious constructions, and remnants of minutemachinery, were all that offered themselves to my notice.
My expectations being thus frustrated, I proceeded to restore things totheir former state. I attempted to close the lid; but the spring whichhad raised it refused to bend. No measure that I could adopt enabled meto place the lid in the same situation in which I had found it. In myefforts to press down the lid, which were augmented in proportion to theresistance that I met with, the spring was broken. This obstacle beingremoved, the lid resumed its proper place; but no means, within thereach of my ingenuity to discover, enabled me to push forward the bolt,and thus to restore the fastening.
I now perceived that Clithero had provided not only against the openingof his cabinet, but likewise against the possibility of concealing thatit had been opened. This discovery threw me into some confusion. I hadbeen tempted thus far by the belief that my action was withoutwitnesses, and might be forever concealed. This opinion was nowconfuted. If Clithero should ever reclaim his property, he would notfail to detect the violence of which I had been guilty. Inglefield woulddisapprove in another what he had not permitted to himself, and theunauthorized and clandestine manner in which I had behaved wouldaggravate, in his eyes, the heinousness of my offence.
But now there was no remedy. All that remained was to hinder suspicionfrom lighting on the innocent, and to confess, to my friend, the offencewhich I had committed. Meanwhile my first project was resumed, and, thefamily being now wrapped in profound sleep, I left my chamber, andproceeded to the elm. The moon was extremely brilliant, but I hoped thatthis unfrequented road and unseasonable hour would hinder me from beingobserved. My chamber was above the kitchen, with which it communicatedby a small staircase, and the building to which it belonged wasconnected with the dwelling by a gallery. I extinguished the light, andleft it in the kitchen, intending to relight it, by the embers thatstill glowed on the hearth, on my return.
I began to remove the sod and cast out the earth, with little confidencein the success of my project. The issue of my examination of the boxhumbled and disheartened me. For some time I found nothing that tendedto invigorate my hopes. I determined, however, to descend, as long asthe unsettled condition of the earth showed me that some one hadpreceded me. Small masses of stone were occasionally met with, whichserved only to perplex me with groundless expectations. At length myspade struck upon something which emitted a very different sound. Iquickly drew it forth, and found it to be wood. Its regular form, andthe crevices which were faintly discernible, persuaded me that it washuman workmanship, and that there was a cavity within. The place inwhich it was found easily suggested some connection between this and thedestiny of Clithero. Covering up the hole with speed, I hastened with myprize to the house. The door by which the kitchen was entered was not tobe seen from the road. It opened on a field, the farther limit of whichwas a ledge of rocks, which formed, on this side, the boundary ofInglefield's estate and the westernmost barrier of Norwalk.
As I turned the angle of the house, and came in view of this door,methought I saw a figure issue from it. I was startled at this incident,and, stopping, crouched close to the wall, that I might not bediscovered. As soon as the figure passed beyond the verge of the shade,it was easily distinguished to be that of Clithero! He crossed the fieldwith a rapid pace, and quickly passed beyond the reach of my eye.
This appearance was mysterious. For what end he should visit thishabitation could not be guessed. Was the contingency to be lamented inconsequence of which an interview had been avoided? Would it havecompelled me to explain the broken condition of his trunk? I knew notwhether to rejoice at having avoided this interview, or to deplore it.
These thoughts did not divert me from examining the nature of the prizewhich I had gained. I relighted my candle and hied once more to thechamber. The first object which, on entering it, attracted my attention,was the cabinet broken into twenty fragments, on the hearth. I had leftit on a low table, at a distant corner of the room.
No conclusion could be formed but that Clithero had been here, haddiscovered the violence which had been committed on his property, and,in the first transport of his indignation, had shattered it to pieces. Ishuddered on reflecting how near I had been to being detected by him inthe very act, and by how small an interval I had escaped that resentmentwhich, in that case, would have probably been wreaked upon me.
My attention was withdrawn, at length, from this object, and fixed uponthe contents of the box which I had dug up. This was equallyinaccessible with the other. I had not the same motives for caution andforbearance. I was somewhat desperate, as the consequences of myindiscretion could not be aggravated, and my curiosity was moreimpetuous with regard to the smaller than to the larger cabinet. Iplaced it on the ground and crushed it to pieces with my heel.
Something was within. I brought it to the light, and, after loosingnumerous folds, at length drew forth a volume. No object in the circleof nature was more adapted than this to rouse up all my faculties. Myfeelings were anew excited on observing that it was a manuscript. Ibolted the door, and, drawing near the light, opened and began to read.
A few pages were sufficient to explain the nature of the work. Clitherohad mentioned that his lady had composed a vindication of her conducttowards her brother when her intercession in his favour was solicitedand refused. This performance had never been published, but had beenread by many, and was preserved by her friends as a precious monument ofher genius and her virtue. This manuscript was now before me.
That Clithero should preserve this manuscript, amidst the wreck of hishopes and fortunes, was apparently conformable to his temper. That,having formed the resolution to die, he should seek to hide this volumefrom the profane curiosity of survivors, was a natural proceeding. Tobury it rather than to burn, or disperse it into fragments, would besuggested by the wish to conceal, without committing what his heatedfancy would regard as sacrilege. To bury it beneath the elm was dictatedby no fortuitous or inexplicable caprice. This event could scarcely failof exercising some influence on the perturbations of his sleep, andthus, in addition to other causes, might his hovering near this trunk,and throwing up this earth, in the intervals of slumber, be accountedfor. Clithero, indeed, had not mentioned this proceeding in the courseof his narrative; but that would have contravened the end for which hehad provided a grave for this book.
I read this copious tale with unspeakable eagerness. It essentiallyagreed with that which had been told by Clithero. By drawing forthevents into all their circumstances, more distinct impressions wereproduced on the mind, and proofs of fortitude and equanimity were heregiven to which I had hitherto known no parallel. No wonder that a soullike Clithero's, pervaded by these proofs of inimitable excellence, andthrillingly alive to the passion of virtuous fame, and the value of thatexistence which he had destroyed, should be overborne by horror at theview of the past.
The instability of life and happiness was f
orcibly illustrated, as wellas the perniciousness of error. Exempt as this lady was from almostevery defect, she was indebted for her ruin to absurd opinions of thesacredness of consanguinity, to her anxiety for the preservation of aruffian because that ruffian was her brother. The spirit of Clithero wasenlightened and erect, but he weakly suffered the dictates of eternaljustice to be swallowed up by gratitude. The dread of unjust upbraidinghurried him to murder and to suicide, and the imputation of imaginaryguilt impelled him to the perpetration of genuine and enormous crimes.
The perusal of this volume ended not but with the night. Contrary to myhopes, the next day was stormy and wet. This did not deter me fromvisiting the mountain. Slippery paths and muddy torrents were noobstacles to the purposes which I had adopted. I wrapped myself, and abag of provisions, in a cloak of painted canvas, and speeded to thedwelling of Clithero.
I passed through the cave and reached the bridge which my own ingenuityhad formed. At that moment, torrents of rain poured from above, andstronger blasts thundered amidst these desolate recesses and profoundchasms. Instead of lamenting the prevalence of this tempest, I now beganto regard it with pleasure. It conferred new forms of sublimity andgrandeur on this scene.
As I crept with hands and feet along my imperfect bridge, a sudden gusthad nearly whirled me into the frightful abyss below. To preservemyself, I was obliged to loose my hold of my burden, and it fell intothe gulf. This incident disconcerted and distressed me. As soon as I hadeffected my dangerous passage, I screened myself behind a cliff and gavemyself up to reflection.
The purpose of this arduous journey was defeated by the loss of theprovisions I had brought. I despaired of winning the attention of thefugitive to supplications, or arguments tending to smother remorse orrevive his fortitude. The scope of my efforts was to consist invanquishing his aversion to food; but these efforts would now beuseless, since I had no power to supply his cravings.
This deficiency, however, was easily supplied. I had only to return homeand supply myself anew. No time was to be lost in doing this; but I waswilling to remain under this shelter till the fury of the tempest hadsubsided. Besides, I was not certain that Clithero had again retreatedhither. It was requisite to explore the summit of this hill, andascertain whether it had any inhabitant. I might likewise discover whathad been the success of my former experiment, and whether the food,which had been left here on the former day, was consumed or neglected.
While occupied with these reflections, my eyes were fixed upon theopposite steeps. The tops of the trees, waving to and fro in the wildestcommotion, and their trunks, occasionally bending to the blast, which,in these lofty regions, blew with a violence unknown in the tractsbelow, exhibited an awful spectacle. At length, my attention wasattracted by the trunk which lay across the gulf, and which I hadconverted into a bridge. I perceived that it had already somewhatswerved from its original position, that every blast broke or loosenedsome of the fibres by which its roots were connected with the oppositebank, and that, if the storm did not speedily abate, there was imminentdanger of its being torn from the rock and precipitated into the chasm.Thus my retreat would be cut off, and the evils from which I wasendeavouring to rescue another would be experienced by myself.
I did not just then reflect that Clithero had found access to this hillby other means, and that the avenue by which he came would be equallycommodious to me. I believed my destiny to hang upon the expedition withwhich I should recross this gulf. The moments that were spent in thesedeliberations were critical, and I shuddered to observe that the trunkwas held in its place by one or two fibres which were already stretchedalmost to breaking.
To pass along the trunk, rendered slippery by the wet and unsteadfast bythe wind, was imminently dangerous. To maintain my hold, in passing, indefiance of the whirlwind, required the most vigorous exertions. Forthis end it was necessary to discommode myself of my cloak, and of thevolume which I carried in the pocket of my cloak. I believed there wasno reason to dread their being destroyed or purloined, if left, for afew hours or a day, in this recess. If laid beside a stone, undershelter of this cliff, they would, no doubt, remain unmolested till thedisappearance of the storm should permit me to revisit this spot in theafternoon or on the morrow.
Just as I had disposed of these encumbrances and had risen from my seat,my attention was again called to the opposite steep, by the mostunwelcome object that, at this time, could possibly occur. Something wasperceived moving among the bushes and rocks, which, for a time, I hopedwas no more than a raccoon or opossum, but which presently appeared tobe a panther. His gray coat, extended claws, fiery eyes, and a cry whichhe at that moment uttered, and which, by its resemblance to the humanvoice, is peculiarly terrific, denoted him to be the most ferocious anduntamable of that detested race.
[Footnote: The gray cougar. This animal has all the essentialcharacteristics of a tiger. Though somewhat inferior in size andstrength, these are such as to make him equally formidable to man.]
The industry of our hunters has nearly banished animals of prey fromthese precincts. The fastnesses of Norwalk, however, could not butafford refuge to some of them. Of late I had met them so rarely, that myfears were seldom alive, and I trod, without caution, the ruggedest andmost solitary haunts. Still, however, I had seldom been unfurnished inmy rambles with the means of defence.
My temper never delighted in carnage and blood. I found no pleasure inplunging into bogs, wading through rivulets, and penetrating thickets,for the sake of dispatching woodcocks and squirrels. To watch theirgambols and flittings, and invite them to my hand, was my darlingamusement when loitering among the woods and the rocks. It was muchotherwise, however, with regard to rattlesnakes and panthers. These Ithought it no breach of duty to exterminate wherever they could befound. These judicious and sanguinary spoilers were equally the enemiesof man and of the harmless race that sported in the trees, and many oftheir skins are still preserved by me as trophies of my juvenileprowess.
As hunting was never my trade or my sport, I never loaded myself withfowling-piece or rifle. Assiduous exercise had made me master of aweapon of much easier carriage, and, within a moderate distance, moredestructive and unerring. This was the tomahawk. With this I have oftensevered an oak-branch, and cut the sinews of a catamount, at thedistance of sixty feet.
The unfrequency with which I had lately encountered this foe, and theencumbrance of provision, made me neglect, on this occasion, to bringwith me my usual arms. The beast that was now before me, when stimulatedby hunger, was accustomed to assail whatever could provide him with abanquet of blood. He would set upon the man and the deer with equal andirresistible ferocity. His sagacity was equal to his strength, and heseemed able to discover when his antagonist was armed and prepared fordefence.
My past experience enabled me to estimate the full extent of my danger.He sat on the brow of the steep, eyeing the bridge, and apparentlydeliberating whether he should cross it. It was probable that he hadscented my footsteps thus far, and, should he pass over, his vigilancecould scarcely fail of detecting my asylum. The pit into which Clitherohad sunk from my view was at some distance. To reach it was the firstimpulse of my fear, but this could not be done without exciting theobservation and pursuit of this enemy. I deeply regretted the untowardchance that had led me, when I first came over, to a different shelter.
Should he retain his present station, my danger was scarcely lessened.To pass over in the face of a famished tiger was only to rush upon myfate. The falling of the trunk, which had lately been so anxiouslydeprecated, was now, with no less solicitude, desired. Every new gust, Ihoped, would tear asunder its remaining bands, and, by cutting off allcommunication between the opposite steeps, place me in security.
My hopes, however, were destined to be frustrated. The fibres of theprostrate tree were obstinately tenacious of their hold, and presentlythe animal scrambled down the rock and proceeded to cross it.
Of all kinds of death, that which now menaced me was the most abhorred.To die by disease, or by
the hand of a fellow-creature, was propitiousand lenient in comparison with being rent to pieces by the fangs of thissavage. To perish in this obscure retreat, by means so impervious to theanxious curiosity of my friends, to lose my portion of existence by sountoward and ignoble a destiny, was insupportable. I bitterly deploredmy rashness in coming hither unprovided for an encounter like this.
The evil of my present circumstances consisted chiefly in suspense. Mydeath was unavoidable, but my imagination had leisure to torment itselfby anticipations. One foot of the savage was slowly and cautiously movedafter the other. He struck his claws so deeply into the bark that theywere with difficulty withdrawn. At length he leaped upon the ground. Wewere now separated by an interval of scarcely eight feet. To leave thespot where I crouched was impossible. Behind and beside me, the cliffrose perpendicularly, and before me was this grim and terrific visage. Ishrunk still closer to the ground and closed my eyes.
From this pause of horror I was aroused by the noise occasioned by asecond spring of the animal. He leaped into the pit, in which I had sodeeply regretted that I had not taken refuge, and disappeared. My rescuewas so sudden, and so much beyond my belief or my hope, that I doubted,for a moment, whether my senses did not deceive me. This opportunity ofescape was not to be neglected. I left my place, and scrambled over thetrunk with a precipitation which had liked to have proved fatal. Thetree groaned and shook under me, the wind blew with unexampled violence,and I had scarcely reached the opposite steep when the roots weresevered from the rock and the whole fell thundering to the bottom of thechasm.
My trepidations were not speedily quieted. I looked back with wonder onmy hairbreadth escape, and on that singular concurrence of events whichhad placed me, in so short a period, in absolute security. Had the trunkfallen a moment earlier, I should have been imprisoned on the hill orthrown headlong. Had its fall been delayed another moment, I should havebeen pursued; for the beast now issued from his den, and testified hissurprise and disappointment by tokens the sight of which made my bloodrun cold.
He saw me, and hastened to the verge of the chasm. He squatted on hishind-legs and assumed the attitude of one preparing to leap. Myconsternation was excited afresh by these appearances. It seemed atfirst as if the rift was too wide for any power of muscles to carry himin safety over; but I knew the unparalleled agility of this animal, andthat his experience had made him a better judge of the practicability ofthis exploit than I was. Still there was hope that he would relinquishthis design as desperate. This hope was quickly at an end. He sprung,and his fore-legs touched the verge of the rock on which I stood. Inspite of vehement exertions, however, the surface was too smooth and toohard to allow him to make good his hold. He fell, and a piercing cry,uttered below, showed that nothing had obstructed his descent to thebottom.
Thus was I again rescued from death. Nothing but the pressure of faminecould have prompted this savage to so audacious and hazardous an effort;but, by yielding to this impulse, he had made my future visits to thisspot exempt from peril. Clithero was, likewise, relieved from a dangerthat was imminent and unforeseen. Prowling over these grounds, thepanther could scarcely have failed to meet with this solitary fugitive.
Had the animal lived, my first duty would have been to have sought himout and assailed him with my tomahawk; but no undertaking would havebeen more hazardous. Lurking in the grass, or in the branches of a tree,his eye might have descried my approach, he might leap upon meunperceived, and my weapon would be useless.
With a heart beating with unwonted rapidity, I once more descended thecliff, entered the cavern, and arrived at Huntly farm, drenched withrain, and exhausted by fatigue.
By night the storm was dispelled; but my exhausted strength would notallow me to return to the mountain. At the customary hour I retired tomy chamber. I incessantly ruminated on the adventures of the last day,and inquired into the conduct which I was next to pursue.
The bridge being destroyed, my customary access was cut off. There wasno possibility of restoring this bridge. My strength would not sufficeto drag a fallen tree from a distance, and there was none whose positionwould abridge or supersede that labour. Some other expedient must,therefore, be discovered to pass this chasm.
I reviewed the circumstances of my subterranean journey. The cavern wasimperfectly explored. Its branches might be numerous. That which I hadhitherto pursued terminated in an opening at a considerable distancefrom the bottom. Other branches might exist, some of which might lead tothe foot of the precipice, and thence a communication might be foundwith the summit of the interior hill.
The danger of wandering into dark and untried paths, and thecommodiousness of that road which had at first been taken, weresufficient reasons for having hitherto suspended my examination of thedifferent branches of this labyrinth. Now my customary road was nolonger practicable, and another was to be carefully explored. For thisend, on my next journey to the mountain, I determined to take with me alamp, and unravel this darksome maze: this project I resolved to executethe next day.
I now recollected what, if it had more seasonably occurred, would havetaught me caution. Some months before this a farmer, living in theskirts of Norwalk, discovered two marauders in his field, whom heimagined to be a male and female panther. They had destroyed some sheep,and had been hunted by the farmer with long and fruitless diligence.Sheep had likewise been destroyed in different quarters; but the ownershad fixed the imputation of the crime upon dogs, many of whom had atonedfor their supposed offences by their death. He who had mentioned hisdiscovery of panthers received little credit from his neighbours;because a long time had elapsed since these animals were supposed tohave been exiled from this district, and because no other person hadseen them. The truth of this seemed now to be confirmed by the testimonyof my own senses; but, if the rumour were true, there still existedanother of these animals, who might harbour in the obscurities of thisdesert, and against whom it was necessary to employ some precaution.Henceforth I resolved never to traverse the wilderness unfurnished withmy tomahawk.
These images, mingled with those which the contemplation of futuritysuggested, floated, for a time, in my brain, but at length gave place tosleep.
Edgar Huntly; or, Memoirs of a Sleep-Walker Page 12