Transcribed from the 1919 Mills and Boon edition by DavidPrice,
By
JACK LONDON
Author of
“The Valley of the Moon,” “Jerry of theIslands,”
“Michael, Brother of Jerry,” etc., etc.
MILLS & BOON, LIMITED
49 RUPERT STREET
LONDON, W.1.
Published1919
Copyrightin the United States of America by Jack London.
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The Red One | |
The Hussy | |
Like Argus of the AncientTimes | |
The Princess |
There it was! The abruptliberation of sound! As he timed it with his watch, Bassettlikened it to the trump of an archangel. Walls of cities,he meditated, might well fall down before so vast and compellinga summons. For the thousandth time vainly he tried toanalyse the tone-quality of that enormous peal that dominated theland far into the strong-holds of the surrounding tribes. The mountain gorge which was its source rang to the rising tideof it until it brimmed over and flooded earth and sky andair. With the wantonness of a sick man’s fancy, helikened it to the mighty cry of some Titan of the Elder Worldvexed with misery or wrath. Higher and higher it arose,challenging and demanding in such profounds of volume that itseemed intended for ears beyond the narrow confines of the solarsystem. There was in it, too, the clamour of protest inthat there were no ears to hear and comprehend its utterance.
—Such the sick man’s fancy. Still he stroveto analyse the sound. Sonorous as thunder was it, mellow asa golden bell, thin and sweet as a thrummed taut cord ofsilver—no; it was none of these, nor a blend ofthese. There were no words nor semblances in his vocabularyand experience with which to describe the totality of thatsound.
Time passed. Minutes merged into quarters of hours, andquarters of hours into half-hours, and still the sound persisted,ever changing from its initial vocal impulse yet never receivingfresh impulse—fading, dimming, dying as enormously as ithad sprung into being. It became a confusion of troubledmutterings and babblings and colossal whisperings. Slowlyit withdrew, sob by sob, into whatever great bosom had birthedit, until it whimpered deadly whispers of wrath and as equallyseductive whispers of delight, striving still to be heard, toconvey some cosmic secret, some understanding of infinite importand value. It dwindled to a ghost of sound that had lostits menace and promise, and became a thing that pulsed on in thesick man’s consciousness for minutes after it hadceased. Wh