V
Up until this moment we had been engaged in an essentially personalenterprise, even though its object was to secure information vital tothe United Nations. From this time on, however, the personal element wasto become almost completely subordinate to the vast problems of humanityitself, for, as we were to soon find, we had tied ourselves to a symbolthat was determined to live up to all that was claimed or expected ofhim, and further, who depended upon our advice. The situation for us wasmade much worse because at first we doubted both his sincerity and goodsense--in fact, it was not until after the Wagnerian climax of the wholething that we at last realized, along with the rest of the world,exactly what Kazu Takahashi believed in.
Kazu crossed the flat eastern half of Yat in less than a minute,evidently wishing to get out of range of Rau's artillery as quickly aspossible. His feet tore through the groves as a normal man's mightthrough a field of clover; indeed, he experienced more trouble from thesoftness of the ground than from any vegetation. As we were soon tolearn, one of the disadvantages of Kazu's size lay in the mechanicalproperties of the world as experienced by him. Kazu stood almost 600feet high, or roughly 100 times the linear dimensions of a normal man.From the simple laws of geometry, this increased his weight by 100^3 or1 million times. But the area of his body, including the soles of hisfeet which had to support this gigantic load, had increased by but100^2, or ten thousand times. The ground pressure under his feet wasthus 100 times greater, for each square inch, than for a normal man. Theresult was that Kazu sank into the ground at each step until he reachedbedrock, or soil strong enough to carry the load.
At the beach he hesitated briefly, as though getting his bearings, andthen waded into the ocean. The surf which had used us so violently wasto him only a half inch ripple. He strode through the shallows and pastthe reef in a matter of seconds, and then plunged into deeper water.From our dizzy perch, now carried at hip height, we watched the greatfeet drive down into the sea, leaving green walls of solid water aboutthem.
Although we did not realize it at the time, we later learned that Kazu'swading forays were attended by tidal waves which inundated islands up toa hundred miles away. This trip across a twenty mile strait swamped adozen native fishing craft, flooded out four villages and killed somehundreds of people.
We fared better than some of these innocent bystanders, for Kazucarefully held our steel box above the sea, and presently lurchedthrough shallow water to the dry land.
The new island was larger than Yat, and entirely given over to ricegrowing for Kazu's food supply. He threaded his way easily among thepaddies, up through some low hills, and then down a narrow gorge intothe sea again.
Ahead lay a much more extensive body of water. The sun was now hardlyfifteen degrees above the horizon, and its glare plus a bank of cloudsmade it difficult to see the distant land. Kazu raised our room to thelevel of his face.
"Is that Island of Celebes?"
Baker started to pick up the microphone, and then abruptly realizingthat it was dead, he shouted back from the projection port.
"I think it is. Let me look for a chart."
Kazu waited patiently while we searched, placing the room on a hilltopto give us a steadier platform. We all began a mad scramble in the massof debris. Kazu removed the roof to give more light, but it soon becameclear that there wasn't much hope. All that we could find were thousandsof slides of the Chinese classics. At last we gave up. When we told Kazuthis, he looked across the water and wrinkled his brow. We could sensethe reason for his anxiety, for the distant shore could hardly be lessthan seventy miles away. Mentally I reduced this to terms I couldunderstand. Seven tenths of a mile, of which an unknown percentage mightbe swimming.
Kazu's voice rumbled down to us, "I would prefer to wade. I cannot swimwell." He peered down into our roofless box anxiously.
"If we only had one chart," began Baker, when Walt, who had beenrummaging near the projector window, called to us.
"Take a look over there, just around the point."
We saw the prow of a ship. There was a moment of terror lest it be anIndonesian coast patrol, and then we saw that it was just a small islandsteamer of a thousand tons or so, chugging along less than two milesoffshore.
* * * * *
I think that the idea hit us all at the same instant. Baker, asspokesman, called to Kazu. The giant, for the first time, grinned at us.Then he picked up our box and waded into the ocean.
I don't think the people in the little ship even saw us until we werepractically upon them, because of the mist and sunset glare. What theythought I can only imagine, for the water was little more than knee deepand Kazu towered fully four hundred feet above it. Then a hand as big asthe foredeck reached down and gently stopped them by the simpleexpedient of forming a V between thumb and fingers into which the prowpushed. I heard the sound of bells and saw tiny figures scurrying abouton the deck. On the opposite side a number of white specks appeared inthe water as crewmen dove overboard. Our box was now lowered until itsdoor was next to the bridge. We leaped aboard, under cover of a greathand which obligingly plucked away the near wall of the pilot house. Weentered the house just as the captain beat a precipitate retreat outthe other side, and after a moment in the chartroom we found what wewanted. While Martin stood watch at the far door, we took advantage ofthe electric lights to examine the chart of the east coast of Celebes.That island, we found, was only sixty miles away and the deepestsounding was less than six hundred feet. Kazu could wade the wholedistance.
* * * * *
The nautical charts did not show much detail for the interior ofCelebes, but from our elevation we could see enough of the terrain toguide Kazu quite well. The course which Baker plotted took us across thenorthern part of the big island, and far enough inland to avoid easydetection from the sea. As the day progressed, the sky gradually filledwith clouds, promising more rain, so that I doubt if many people saw us.Those who did, I suspect, were more interested in taking cover than ininterfering with Kazu's progress.
The journey across Celebes took only a couple of hours, and so, by noon,we stood on the shore of the strait of Macassar, looking acrossseventy-five miles of blue water to the mountains of Borneo.
It was not until now that Baker explained what he had in mind inchoosing this particular route.
"We're going to Singapore," he said. "Get under the protection of theRoyal Navy and Air Force before the commies spot us and start droppingbombs and rockets. If Buddha wants to see the world, he'd better startby getting a good bodyguard."
Kazu seemed agreeable when appraised of this plan, and so we began toplot a more detailed route over the 1,100 miles between us and theBritish crown colony. We stood at the narrowest part of the strait, butunfortunately most of it was too deep for Kazu to wade. Reference to thecharts showed that by going 250 miles south, we would reduce the swim toabout 30 miles, or the equivalent of some 500 yards for a normal man. Tothis was added a wade of 120 miles through shallows and over the manysmall Balabalagan Islands.
Suddenly Kazu's hand swept down and came up with a 60-foot whale, whichhe devoured in great gory bites. After this midocean lunch, Kazu resumedhis wading. In the middle of the strait the depth exceeded five thousandfeet, and he had to swim for a time, after fastening our box to his headby means of the trailing cables.
At length the sea became shallow once more, Kazu's feet crunched throughcoral, and the coast of Borneo appeared dimly ahead. We were all takingtime for the luxury of a sigh of relief when Chamberlin screamed awarning.
"Planes! Coming in low at three o'clock!"
Fortunately Kazu heard this also, although the language confused him.Precious seconds were wasted while he held the box up to his face formore explicit directions. The planes, a flight of six, were streakingtowards us just above the wavetops. We could see that they carriedtorpedoes, and it was not difficult to guess their intentions.
"Go sideways!" Baker yelled, but Kazu did n
ot move. He simply stoodfacing the oncoming aircraft, our box held in his left hand at headlevel, and his right arm hanging at his side, half submerged. EitherKazu was too frightened to move, or he did not understand the danger.The planes were hardly a half mile away now, evidently holding theirfire until the last moment to insure a hit. What even one torpedo coulddo I didn't dare to contemplate, and here were twelve possible strikes.After all, Kazu was made of flesh, and after having seen the effect ofTNT on the steel side of a ship, I had little doubt as to what wouldhappen to him.
Now the last seconds were at hand. The planes were closing at fivehundred yards, the torpedoes would drop in a second.... But suddenlyKazu moved. His whole body swung abruptly to the left and at the sametime the right hand came up through the water. We, of course, werepitched headlong, but we did briefly glimpse a tremendous fan of solidgreen water rising up to meet the planes. They tried to dodge but it wastoo late. Into the waterspout they flew, all six with their torpedoesstill attached, and down into the ocean they fell, broken and sinking.It was all over in a moment. We were so amazed it was moments before wecould move.
Kazu turned and resumed his stroll toward Borneo without a singlebackward glance at the havoc wrought by his splash.
* * * * *
As we entered the foothills I became conscious for the first time of acurious change. It was a psychological change in me, a change in mysense of scale. We had been carried so long at Kazu's shoulder level,and had grown so accustomed to looking out along his arms from almostthe same viewpoint as his, that we were now estimating the size of themountains as though we were as large as Kazu! It is difficult to expressjust how I felt, and now that it is all over, the memory has become sotenuous and subtle that I fear I will never be able to explain it sothat anyone but my three companions could understand. But this was thefirst moment that I noticed the effect. The mountains were suddenly nolonger 4,000 foot peaks viewed from a plane 500 feet above ground level,but were forty foot mounds with a six inch cover of mossy brush, and Iwas walking up their sides as a normal human being! The change was, asnearly as I can express it, from the viewpoint of a normal human beingunder extraordinary circumstances to that of an ordinary man visiting aminiature world. The whale to me was now a fat jellyfish seven incheslong, the Chinese warplanes were toys with an eight inch wingspread, thelittle steamer of yesterday was a flimsy toy built of cardboard andtinfoil. We had, in effect, identified ourselves completely with Kazu.
And so we climbed dripping from the Straits of Macassar, and entered themists and jungles of Borneo.
Our course toward Singapore carried us across the full width ofsouthern Borneo, a distance, from a point north of Kotabaroe to CapeDatu, of almost six hundred miles.
After about an hour, the blue outlines of the Schwanner Mountainsappeared ahead and presently we passed quite close to Mt. Raya, which at7,500 feet was the greatest mountain Kazu had ever seen. Then, droppinginto another valley, we followed the course of the Kapuas River for atime, and finally turned west again through an area of plantations. HereKazu made an effort to secure food by plucking and eating fruit andtreetops together. The result was unsatisfactory, but presently wecame upon a granary containing thousands of sacks of rice. Theworkmen, warned by our earthquake approach, fled long before wereached it. Kazu carefully removed the corrugated iron roof and ate thewhole contents of the warehouse, which amounted to about a handful. Thesacks appeared about a quarter of an inch in length, and seemed to befilled with a fine white powder.
Following this meal, Kazu drained a small lake, getting incidentally agoodly catch of carp, although he could not even taste them. Then, sinceit was now late in the afternoon, he turned northwest to the hills tospend the night.
The last part of the journey was almost entirely through shallowwater--three hundred miles of the warm South China Sea. Baker planned tomake a before dawn start, so that we might be close to the MalayPeninsula before daylight could expose us to further attack. Kazusuggested pushing on at once, but Baker did not think it wise toapproach the formidable defenses of Singapore by night. And so for asecond time we sought out an isolated valley where Kazu could snugglebetween two soft hills, and we could get what sleep was possible in thewreckage of the projection room.
The China Sea passage was made without incident. We started at threeA.M. in a downpour of rain, and by six, at dawn, the low outline of theMalay Peninsula came into sight. We made our landfall some forty milesnorth of Singapore, and at once cut across country toward Johore Bahruand the great British crown colony.
The rice paddies, roads and other signs of civilization were a welcomesight, and I was already relaxing, mentally, in a hot tub at theofficers club when the awakening came. It came in the form of a squadronof fighter planes carrying British markings which roared out of thesouth without warning and passed Kazu's head with all their guns firing.Fortunately neither his eyes nor our thin shelled box was hit, but Kazufelt the tiny projectiles which penetrated even his twelve inch hide. Asthe planes wheeled for another pass he called out in English that he wasa friend, but of course the pilots could not hear above the roar oftheir jets. On the second try two of the planes released rockets, whichfortunately missed, but this put a different light on the whole thing. Adirect hit with a ten inch rocket would be as dangerous as a torpedo.Baker tried to yell some advice, but there was no chance before theplanes came in again. This time Kazu waved, and finally threw a handfulof earth and trees at them. The whole squadron zoomed upwards like acovey of startled birds.
By the time we had reached a temporary haven, Kazu was thoroughlywinded, and we were battered nearly insensible. Baker, in fact, was outcold. Kazu slowed down, and then finding no directions or adviceforthcoming, he resumed a steady dogtrot to the north. Martin and Itried to draw Baker to a safer position beside the projector, but in theprocess one of the steel shelves collapsed, adding Martin to thecasualty list. Walt and I then attempted to drag the two of them tosafety, but in the midst of these efforts a particularly hard lurch sentme headfirst into the projector, and my interest in proceedingsthereupon became nil. Walt, battered and seasick, gave up and collapsedwith the rest of us. Further efforts at communication by Kazu provedfruitless. Buddha was on his own.
The Image and the Likeness Page 5