The Boats of the Glen Carrig

by William Hope Hodgson

  THE BOATS OF THE 'GLEN CARRIG'

  Being an account of their Adventures in the Strange places of the Earth,after the foundering of the good ship _Glen Carrig_ through striking upona hidden rock in the unknown seas to the Southward. As told by JohnWinterstraw, Gent., to his son James Winterstraw, in the year 1757, andby him committed very properly and legibly to manuscript.

  By William Hope Hodgson

  1907

  _Madre Mia_

  People may say thou art no longer young And yet, to me, thy youth was yesterday, A yesterday that seems Still mingled with my dreams.Ah! how the years have o'er thee flung Their soft mantilla, grey.

  And e'en to them thou art not over old; How could'st thou be! Thy hair Hast scarcely lost its deep old glorious dark: Thy face is scarcely lined. No markDestroys its calm serenity. Like gold Of evening light, when winds scarce stir, The soul-light of thy face is pure as prayer.

  I

  The Land of Lonesomeness

  Now we had been five days in the boats, and in all this time made nodiscovering of land. Then upon the morning of the sixth day came there acry from the bo'sun, who had the command of the lifeboat, that there wassomething which might be land afar upon our larboard bow; but it was verylow lying, and none could tell whether it was land or but a morningcloud. Yet, because there was the beginning of hope within our hearts, wepulled wearily towards it, and thus, in about an hour, discovered it tobe indeed the coast of some flat country.

  Then, it might be a little after the hour of midday, we had come so closeto it that we could distinguish with ease what manner of land lay beyondthe shore, and thus we found it to be of an abominable flatness, desolatebeyond all that I could have imagined. Here and there it appeared to becovered with clumps of queer vegetation; though whether they were smalltrees or great bushes, I had no means of telling; but this I know, thatthey were like unto nothing which ever I had set eyes upon before.

  So much as this I gathered as we pulled slowly along the coast, seekingan opening whereby we could pass inward to the land; but a weary timepassed or ere we came upon that which we sought. Yet, in the end, wefound it--a slimy-banked creek, which proved to be the estuary of a greatriver, though we spoke of it always as a creek. Into this we entered, andproceeded at no great pace upwards along its winding course; and as wemade forward, we scanned the low banks upon each side, perchance theremight be some spot where we could make to land; but we found none--thebanks being composed of a vile mud which gave us no encouragement toventure rashly upon them.

  Now, having taken the boat something over a mile up the great creek, wecame upon the first of that vegetation which I had chanced to notice fromthe sea, and here, being within some score yards of it, we were thebetter able to study it. Thus I found that it was indeed composed largelyof a sort of tree, very low and stunted, and having what might bedescribed as an unwholesome look about it. The branches of this tree, Iperceived to be the cause of my inability to recognize it from a bush,until I had come close upon it; for they grew thin and smooth through alltheir length, and hung towards the earth; being weighted thereto by asingle, large cabbage-like plant which seemed to sprout from the extremetip of each.

  Presently, having passed beyond this clump of the vegetation, and thebanks of the river remaining very low, I stood me upon a thwart, by whichmeans I was enabled to scan the surrounding country. This I discovered,so far as my sight could penetrate, to be pierced in all directions withinnumerable creeks and pools, some of these latter being very great ofextent; and, as I have before made mention, everywhere the country waslow set--as it might be a great plain of mud; so that it gave me a senseof dreariness to look out upon it. It may be, all unconsciously, that myspirit was put in awe by the extreme silence of all the country around;for in all that waste I could see no living thing, neither bird norvegetable, save it be the stunted trees, which, indeed, grew in clumpshere and there over all the land, so much as I could see.

  This silence, when I grew fully aware of it was the more uncanny; for mymemory told me that never before had I come upon a country whichcontained so much quietness. Nothing moved across my vision--not even alone bird soared up against the dull sky; and, for my hearing, not somuch as the cry of a sea-bird came to me--no! nor the croak of a frog,nor the plash of a fish. It was as though we had come upon the Country ofSilence, which some have called the Land of Lonesomeness.

  Now three hours had passed whilst we ceased not to labor at the oars, andwe could no more see the sea; yet no place fit for our feet had come toview, for everywhere the mud, grey and black, surrounded us--encompassingus veritably by a slimy wilderness. And so we were fain to pull on, inthe hope that we might come ultimately to firm ground.

  Then, a little before sundown, we halted upon our oars, and made a scantmeal from a portion of our remaining provisions; and as we ate, I couldsee the sun sinking away over the wastes, and I had some slight diversionin watching the grotesque shadows which it cast from the trees into thewater upon our larboard side; for we had come to a pause opposite a clumpof the vegetation. It was at this time, as I remember, that it was bornein upon me afresh how very silent was the land; and that this was not dueto my imagination, I remarked that the men both in our own and in thebo'sun's boat, seemed uneasy because of it; for none spoke save inundertones, as though they had fear of breaking it.

  And it was at this time, when I was awed by so much solitude, that therecame the first telling of life in all that wilderness. I heard it firstin the far distance, away inland--a curious, low, sobbing note it was,and the rise and the fall of it was like to the sobbing of a lonesomewind through a great forest. Yet was there no wind. Then, in a moment, ithad died, and the silence of the land was awesome by reason of thecontrast. And I looked about me at the men, both in the boat in which Iwas and that which the bo'sun commanded; and not one was there but heldhimself in a posture of listening. In this wise a minute of quietnesspassed, and then one of the men gave out a laugh, born of the nervousnesswhich had taken him.

  The bo'sun muttered to him to hush, and, in the same moment, there cameagain the plaint of that wild sobbing. And abruptly it sounded away onour right, and immediately was caught up, as it were, and echoed backfrom some place beyond us afar up the creek. At that, I got me upon athwart, intending to take another look over the country about us; butthe banks of the creek had become higher; moreover the vegetation actedas a screen, even had my stature and elevation enabled me to overlookthe banks.

  And so, after a little while, the crying died away, and there was anothersilence. Then, as we sat each one harking for what might next befall,George, the youngest 'prentice boy, who had his seat beside me, pluckedme by the sleeve, inquiring in a troubled voice whether I had anyknowledge of that which the crying might portend; but I shook my head,telling him that I had no knowing beyond his own; though, for hiscomfort, I said that it might be the wind. Yet, at that, he shook hishead; for indeed, it was plain that it could not be by such agency, forthere was a stark calm.

  Now, I had scarce made an end of my remark, when again the sad cryingwas upon us. It appeared to come from far up the creek, and from far downthe creek, and from inland and the land between us and the sea. It filledthe evening air with its doleful wailing, and I remarked that there wasin it a curious sobbing, most human in its despairful crying. And soawesome was the thing that no man of us spoke; for it seemed that weharked to the weeping of lost souls. And then, as we waited fearfully,the sun sank below the edge of the world, and the dusk was upon us.

  And now a more extraordinary thing happened; for, as the night fell withswift gloom, the strange wailing and crying was hushed, and another soundstole out upon the land--a far, sullen growling. At the first, lik
e thecrying, it came from far inland; but was caught up speedily on all sidesof us, and presently the dark was full of it. And it increased in volume,and strange trumpetings fled across it. Then, though with slowness, itfell away to a low, continuous growling, and in it there was that which Ican only describe as an insistent, hungry snarl. Aye! no other word ofwhich I have knowledge so well describes it as that--a note of _hunger_,most awesome to the ear. And this, more than all the rest of thoseincredible voicings, brought terror into my heart.

  Now as I sat listening, George gripped me suddenly by the arm, declaringin a shrill whisper that something had come among the clump of trees uponthe left-hand bank. Of the truth of this, I had immediately a proof; forI caught the sound of a continuous rustling among them, and then a nearernote of growling, as though a wild beast purred at my elbow. Immediatelyupon this, I caught the bo'sun's voice, calling in a low tone to Josh,the eldest 'prentice, who had the charge of our boat, to come alongsideof him; for he would have the boats together. Then got we out the oarsand laid the boats together in the midst of the creek; and so we watchedthrough the night, being full of fear, so that we kept our speech low;that is, so low as would carry our thoughts one to the other through thenoise of the growling.

  And so the hours passed, and naught happened more than I have told, savethat once, a little after midnight, the trees opposite to us seemed to bestirred again, as though some creature, or creatures, lurked among them;and there came, a little after that, a sound as of something stirring thewater up against the bank; but it ceased in a while and the silence fellonce more.

  Thus, after a weariful time, away Eastwards the sky began to tell of thecoming of the day; and, as the light grew and strengthened, so did thatinsatiable growling pass hence with the dark and the shadows. And so atlast came the day, and once more there was borne to us the sad wailingthat had preceded the night. For a certain while it lasted, rising andfalling most mournfully over the vastness of the surrounding wastes,until the sun was risen some degrees above the horizon; after which itbegan to fail, dying away in lingering echoes, most solemn to our ears.And so it passed, and there came again the silence that had been with usin all the daylight hours.

  Now, it being day, the bo'sun bade us make such sparse breakfast as ourprovender allowed; after which, having first scanned the banks todiscern if any fearful thing were visible, we took again to our oars,and proceeded on our upward journey; for we hoped presently to come upona country where life had not become extinct, and where we could put footto honest earth. Yet, as I have made mention earlier, the vegetation,where it grew, did flourish most luxuriantly; so that I am scarcecorrect when I speak of life as being extinct in that land. For, indeed,now I think of it, I can remember that the very mud from which it sprangseemed veritably to have a fat, sluggish life of its own, so rich andviscid was it.

  Presently it was midday; yet was there but little change in the nature ofthe surrounding wastes; though it may be that the vegetation wassomething thicker, and more continuous along the banks. But the bankswere still of the same thick, clinging mud; so that nowhere could weeffect a landing; though, had we, the rest of the country beyond thebanks seemed no better.

  And all the while, as we pulled, we glanced continuously from bank tobank; and those who worked not at the oars were fain to rest a hand bytheir sheath-knives; for the happenings of the past night werecontinually in our minds, and we were in great fear; so that we hadturned back to the sea but that we had come so nigh to the end of ourprovisions.