When he rejoined his other guest Solgorukin was at once plied with questions about this strange, rather woebegone, little country. ‘It’s just like a Fairy Tale,’ said Philip. ‘Those two little men of yours remind me of elves or hobgoblins. Are they really normal human beings or is there something queer about them, just as there is about the climate here?’
‘Oh, they’re normal enough,’ the Prince replied, with a shrug. ‘You just kick one and hear him squeal. After all, they are no smaller than the pigmies that live in the forests of Central Africa, and there is nothing abnormal about them except for their size.’
‘Did you have much difficulty in getting them to accept your authority?’
‘I did at first, but I caught a couple and demonstrated on them what I would do to the rest if they didn’t toe the line; but I’d rather not talk about it now as I don’t want to have to repeat the whole story again for Gloria’s benefit. I’ll tell you as much as I can about them during dinner.’
In spite of this promise, when, greatly refreshed from their baths, they sat down to dinner in the next house an hour later, the Prince had disappointingly little to say about his people. He had no idea how long they had been settled in the valley or where they had come from, and it was quite clear that he regarded them as little better than intelligent animals which a beneficent Providence had provided to fulfil for him the rôle that thousands of Russian serfs had played in ministering to the needs of his forefathers. He said of his arrival there nine months before:
‘I was already fed up with whaling. The smell of those big fish when they are dead is positively revolting; so I asked the captain to put me ashore for a bit with as much food as I could carry. This range of mountains seemed to be the only feature of interest hereabouts and within the limits of a twelve-day trip. I reached the range in four days, so I thought I could well risk another couple in climbing the nearest pass, and on the sixth day I came to the valley. The people were hostile to begin with, but they have no idea of organising themselves for any purpose, so their opposition was sporadic and quite easily overcome. One could no longer go to Europe because of this stupid war, and New York society was beginning to pall on me a little, so I decided to settle here.’
‘Will you be telling me how you learnt the language?’ Gloria asked. ‘That you can speak it in so short a time seems a great cleverness to me.’
‘Like all undeveloped peoples, their language is simple, because it is required to convey only the simplest ideas. I found it difficult to make myself understood for the first few weeks, but I had little else to think about and constant practice, so after a bit it became quite easy.’
‘I take it that you’re an autocratic monarch,’ Philip grinned, ‘and there’s no Parliament or anything of that kind.’
‘No. There is no capital here, no towns, not even a village. On the other hand, there are no rates and no taxes.’
‘That means no police, no drains and no education.’
Solgorukin shrugged. ‘So far as I know, they have no fixed code of laws, so a law court would be superfluous. I suppose they must have personal disputes at times, but I’ve very rarely seen any of them quarrelling. As there are no towns, drainage can be dealt with in the manner common to peasants all over the world; and, as for education, well, perhaps they are happier without it.’
‘Do they have any art, at all?’ asked Gloria.
‘They carve crude designs such as you may have noticed on the chests and pottery, but they haven’t got up to the point of making furniture with drawers, or chairs. The stools we’re sitting on are the type they use, and in order to make this table, I got them to cut a length of the largest tree I could find in half and fit legs into the rounded part. They have not discovered dyes or paints yet. That’s why everything is left its natural colour, including the woodwork of the houses and the woollen clothes they wear.’
‘Do they practise any kind of religion?’ Philip inquired.
‘No. They have no gods or temples, and they don’t worship anything, unless you can call it moon worship to come out each month and dance at the full of the moon.’
Gloria looked up quickly. ‘What sort of dances?’
‘It’s a kind of ring-a-ring-of-roses in which groups of six or eight of them join hands and jump round in circles. At least, that’s the only dance I’ve ever seen them do. I discovered this practice of theirs by chance one night, and, on the two or three occasions I’ve endeavoured to watch them, directly they’ve realised I’m looking on they’ve broken up and gone home. As I didn’t want to spoil their fun I gave up my attempts to find out more about their monthly gatherings.’
‘Anyhow, they cook jolly well,’ remarked Philip. ‘The meat is simply delicious.’
‘I’m afraid a large part of its charm for you is due to the fact that it is many months since you last ate fresh meat,’ smiled the Prince. ‘It’s llama, of course, and I’ve no doubt that in time you’ll get as sick of it as you would of mutton if nothing but mutton were available.’
‘But the vegetables and the gravy and the little oatcakes,’ Gloria protested; ‘Phillip’s right, Prince—they’re all just marvellous.’
‘Well, yes. Actually their cooking is much better than might be expected, and particularly their treatment of vegetables. They grow the most excellent salads, and they make many kinds of cheeses, but unfortunately we have very few fruits and no domestic birds—so no eggs. However, while the season lasts I occasionally make an expedition to the seashore and come back with as many gulls’ and penguins’ eggs as I can carry.’
When they had finished dinner they moved back to the sitting-room, but all of them were tired after their long day. As the conversation languished Solgorukin stood up and said:
‘As I never expected to entertain there are no proper guestrooms. For the time being I suggest that you should make yourself comfortable on the divan here, Gloria, and I’ll have some more skins put down for Philip in the dining-room.’
Philip and Gloria looked at each other. For many months past they had shared the same sleeping accommodation, and somehow it had never occurred to either of them that they would now be separated.
The Prince caught the uncertainty in their glance and, stroking his curly black beard, said smoothly: ‘Of course, in view of your quite exceptional circumstances during the past two years, it would not be the least surprising if you had come to regard each other as husband and wife but I had formed the impression that that was not so. If I am wrong you must forgive me, and we will make more suitable arrangements.’
Oh no!’ exclaimed Philip and Gloria together. One added: ‘Thanks awfully!’ and the other: ‘I’ll be fine right here!’ and both of them wished their cynically smiling host a rather awkward good night, Philip following him out into the darkness.
Next morning, after breakfast, the Prince took them for a walk further down the slope into the valley. It was much too big for them to explore the whole of it in one day, but their host told them that during the tour on which he proposed to take them they would see things typical of all that was in the whole country; and they would discover little that was fresh even if they covered the country acre by acre for a couple of years.
There were, as he had told them the night before, no villages, and the population seemed very evenly dispersed with one cottage to every six or eight small fields. Here and there the people were now working in the fields, but they had only the most rudimentary agricultural tools, such as rough spades and hoes with which they laboriously furrowed the earth instead of ploughing it.
Only the little gnome-like men were to be seen working. The women were all busy in their kitchens or in the dairies which leant crookedly against the side of each small house. Now and again, Solgorukin turned off the dirt track which served as a road, to take his guests into one of the houses. Wherever he appeared, men, women and children immediately threw themselves on the ground and banged their foreheads on the earth until he called to them to stop.
Gloria noticed that all laughter ceased among these white pigmies directly they became aware that the Prince was in the vicinity, and it was clear that he was very much feared. She was intensely interested in the women, but found to her disappointment that they were almost as ugly as the men. They all seemed very fat, but that was largely due to the great amount of clothing they wore. They all had the same type of knitted bodice and skirt of brown wool with alternate dark and light stripes, which billowed out owing to the thick garments beneath it and almost touched the ground.
Through the centre of the valley ran a stream, and at one place it broadened out into a lake, below which cascaded an eighteen-foot waterfall. On the banks of the lake two of the pigmies were fishing with primitive rods without reels.
‘I suppose they catch something sometimes or they wouldn’t do it,’ remarked Philip.
‘Oh yes,’ Solgorukin replied. ‘As a matter of fact, they are surprisingly good considering the wretched rods they have to use; and the fish here are very well worth catching. We have types of mullet, trout and salmon.’
After two hours’ walk they climbed the hill again towards the Palace. As they approached the front entrance of the stockade, Philip’s horrified attention was caught by a thing that neither he nor Gloria had noticed that morning when they came out. There was a fair sprinkling of trees in the valley and several quite large patches of woodland, but none of the trees were very tall. One of the tallest they had so far seen was a medium-sized oak standing a few yards to the left of the entrance of the Palace courtyard. From one of the lower branches dangled the body of one of the little men. As he did not wish to attract Gloria’s attention to such a sinister spectacle Philip refrained from remarking on it, but next moment the limp body was swung round a fraction by a puff of wind, and catching sight of it she came to a sudden halt, exclaiming:
‘Holy Saint Bridget! What’s that?’
‘I regret that it should offend your bright eyes,’ the Prince replied lightly, ‘but I have found that discipline is best maintained by leaving the body of the last offender against it hanging as an example to other would-be mutineers. You will be glad to hear, though, that it is now several months since I have been compelled to execute anyone.’
‘What did the poor little wretch do?’ asked Philip.
‘When I was out one day he got hold of my rifle and tried to shoot me. Fortunately it proved much too big and unwieldy for him, but one cannot allow a thing like that to go unpunished.’
‘You must have done something to provoke him,’ Gloria said, as she walked on again. ‘Otherwise, why would he be wantin’ to kill you?’
‘Oh, he had a grudge, of course. During the previous week I had killed one of his llamas for my larder. Naturally, they hate losing their beasts, but I and my small staff at the Palace must have a reasonable amount of meat, and I spread my demands as evenly as possible over the countryside, so that no individual peasant is expected to provide more than one animal a year.’
Both Philip and Gloria thought it hard that the poor little peasant should have been hanged for his futile attempt to revenge himself after being robbed of his property; yet it was difficult to argue against the Prince’s contention. He and his staff must somehow be fed. It was pointless to say that as an interloper he was not entitled to any food at all and that by his creation of the Palace he had placed a burden on the people that they had not had to bear before. The fact was that he had established himself as the supreme ruler of the place, and like all other rulers, whether kings, priests or presidents, he expected his people to provide for himself and his retainers.
During the next few days they made similar excursions to other parts of the valley, but they saw little, except certain vegetables and a few modest flowers, that they had not already seen. At first, Philip enjoyed the change and relaxation. It is true that the life on board the raft had, in the main, been a lazy one, but there always had been something to do—the vagaries of the weather needed watching, and from time to time unexpected emergencies had to be coped with. Here, on the other hand, he had no work of any kind, no responsibilities, and, even if the moderately warm spring-like weather gave place overnight to a storm, it could no longer materially affect him. Yet, after a week of eating more than was good for him and going for aimless walks, he became bored and irritable.
Gloria’s behaviour was to a large extent responsible for his short temper. She quite obviously preferred the Prince’s company to his own, and he felt that, after all this time, it was most unkind of her to show her preference so openly. He admitted to himself that the Prince was a handsome and amusing person, but he felt that anyone with the least discernment should also be able to see that he was an unscrupulous rogue with the most unpleasant streak of cruelty in his nature. Yet, to Philip’s intense annoyance, he found that Gloria bore out all he had ever read about the queerness of women in such matters, and their frequent disregard of man-made moral standards. Whenever they were alone she would not hear a word against the Russian, and she even seemed to approve of his brutally selfish behaviour in many of the episodes which he recounted with such gusto from his unsavoury past.
Another thing that worried Philip was the future. It was owing to his dream in which the Canon had urged him to attempt to return to the raft that he had met the Prince. This had most probably saved Gloria from freezing to death in the snow and resulted in their having reached a safe and comfortable refuge. In consequence, the outcome of the dream had aroused all his old memories of his vision and revived his faith in it. When the Canon appeared during the storm he had definitely said that if Philip proved equal to the burden that had been laid upon him, no man of his generation would have done more to help bring about the defeat of Germany; and it was transparently clear to Philip that he would come no nearer even to learning what form his mission would take so long as he remained in the valley of the pigmies. By the time he had been there ten days he was beginning to wonder how by hook or by crook he could reach the nearest outpost of civilisation and so make his way home.
When he spoke to Gloria about it she proved far from enthusiastic. They had, she pointed out, been faced with dangers and difficulties for an almost interminable time, yet with the help of the Virgin Mary and all the Saints they had been spared to come to a land of peace and plenty; so why should they not enjoy their blessings?
Faced with the question as to whether she would be content to remain there all her life, she replied:
‘I’ll not say I wouldn’t. There are worse places by far, though I’m thinking I’d be heartsick for a change after a year or two. But where would you be going, Boy, should himself raise no objection—which I’ve a feeling he would?
‘To hell with that!’ exclaimed Philip, knowing that by ‘himself’ she meant the Prince. ‘If I want to leave this valley, it will take more than him to stop me. The place to head for, of course, is the MacKenzie Sea, a bit further west than we should have struck it. I’m dead certain there’s a whaling station there. He as good as admitted it to start with. Then he went back on what he said, because he’s anxious to preserve the secret of his “kingdom”, as he calls it. The night we arrived he spun that yarn about his captain having put him ashore for a twelve days’ holiday. As though any captain would be such a fool as to let his second mate go joy-riding ashore while he was still manoeuvring his ship in an ice-infested sea!’
‘Oh, he’s a lovely liar!’ smiled Gloria. ‘But he’s an ill man to cross, Boy; so best watch your step.’
On the following day Philip tackled the Russian as tactfully as he could. ‘Please don’t think I’m ungrateful,’ he began, ‘but I can’t possibly settle down here indefinitely. So far as we know, the war is still going on at home, and I shall feel ashamed of myself for the rest of my days if I don’t manage to get back and take some sort of a hand in it before it’s all over.’
‘While no such mad desire to immolate myself on the altar of my country is ever likely to cloud my own judgment,’ replied the Prince, ‘I
can understand it doing so in others. But how, pray, do you propose to set about getting back to civilisation?’
‘We shall head for——’
‘We?’ interrupted Solgorukin sharply. ‘Surely you don’t propose that Gloria should share your crazy attempt to break out of the Antarctic?’
‘Well,’ Philip hesitated, ‘I shall certainly take her with me if she wishes to come; but at the moment I’m not quite certain what she means to do.’
‘Let us not concern ourselves with her for the time being then. You were saying that you meant to head for …?’
‘The whaling station on the MacKenzie Sea.’
‘I have already told you there is no whaling station there.’ The Prince’s voice was icy.
‘All right then. What whaling station did the ship that you sailed in put into?’
‘We were hunting in these waters, but our base was in the South Shetlands, which are thousands of miles from here.’
‘In that case I shall go to the MacKenzie Sea, then march west along the coast until I find one.’
‘You are mad!’ said the Prince angrily. ‘And in no circumstances will I permit you to take Gloria with you. She remains here with me!’
‘That is for her to say. Anyhow, I take it you won’t put any obstacle in my way and will not object to my taking all the food I can carry?’
The Russian remained silent for a moment with his dark eyes half-closed, then he said slowly: ‘A week or two can make little difference to you, and there was something I had in mind for which I should like your help before you go.’
‘What is it?’ inquired Philip non-committally.
‘As you may be aware, neither threats nor promises will induce my miserable little subjects to put one foot outside their valley. In consequence, any expeditions that I make to the coast have to be made alone. That greatly limits the number of penguins’ eggs or seal meat that I can bring back. Now, I understand that you had by no means exhausted all the provisions on your raft; and many of them would be great luxuries to me. The place where the raft is beached cannot be very much further in a straight line from here than the place where I found you, so one should be able to get there and back easily in ten days. Would you be willing to accompany me on a trip to the raft before making your attempt to reach a whaling station?’
The Man who Missed the War Page 26