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Page 23
The house, then, was built on the summit of a gentle mound, and
doubtless commanded from its upper window the extreme reaches of this
sea of verdure.
I sat down where Mr. Gulliver directed me, and was not displeased with
the warmth of the fire, despite the sun. I was cold after that long,
watery lullaby, and cold too with exhaustion after running so far at
the heels of the creature who had found me. And I dwelt in a kind of
dream on the transparent flames, and watched vacantly the seething
pot, and smelt till slowly appetite returned the smoke of the stuff
that bubbled beneath its lid.
Mr. Gulliver himself brought me my platter of this pottage, and though
it tasted of nothing in my experience--a kind of sweet, cloying
meat--I was so tired of the fruits to which enterprise had as yet
condemned me, I ate of it hungrily and heartily. Yet not so fast as
that the young "Gulliver" had not finished his before me, and sat at
length watching every mouthful I took from beneath his sun-enticing
thatch of hair. Ever and again he would toss up his chin with a shrill
guffaw, or stoop his head till his eyeballs were almost hidden
beneath their thick lashes, so regarding me for minutes together with
a delightful simulation of intelligence, yet with that peculiar
wistful affection his master had himself exhibited at first sight of
me.
But when our meal was done, Mr. Gulliver ordered him about his
business. Without a murmur, with one last, long, brotherly glance at
me, he withdrew. And presently after I heard from afar his high,
melancholy "cooee," and the crack of his thong in the afternoon air as
he hastened out to his charges.
My companion did not stir. Only the flames waved silently along the
logs. The beam of sunlight drew across the floor. The crisp air of the
pasture flowed through the window. What wonder, then, that, sitting on
my stool, I fell asleep!
VIII
_If I see all, ye're nine to ane!_
--OLD BALLAD.
I was awoke by a sustained sound as of an orator speaking in an
unknown tongue, and found myself in a sunny-shadowy loft, whither I
suppose I must have been carried in my sleep. In a delicious languor
between sleeping and waking I listened with imperturbable curiosity
awhile to that voice of the unknown. Indeed, I was dozing again when a
different sound, enormous, protracted, abruptly aroused me. I got up,
hot and trembling, not yet quite my own master, to discover its cause.
Through a narrow slit between the timbers I could view the country
beneath me, far and wide. I saw near at hand the cumbrous gate of the
stockade ajar, and at a little distance on the farther side Mr.
Gulliver and his half-human servant standing. In front of them was an
empty space--a narrow semicircle of which Gulliver was the centre. And
beyond--wild-eyed, dishevelled, stretching their necks as if to see,
inclining their heads as if to hearken, ranging in multitude almost to
the sky's verge--stood assembled, it seemed to me, all the horses of
the universe.
Even in my first sensation of fear admiration irresistibly stirred.
The superb freedom of their unbridled heads, the sun-nurtured
arrogance of their eyes, the tumultuous, sea-like tossing of crest and
tail, their keenness and ardour and might, and also in simple truth
their numbers--how could one marvel if this solitary fanatic dreamed
they heard him and understood?
Unarmed, bareheaded, he faced the brutal discontent of his people.
Words I could not distinguish; but there was little chance of
misapprehending the haughty anguish with which he threatened, pleaded,
cajoled. Clear and unfaltering his voice rose and fell. He dealt out
fearlessly, foolishly, to that long-snouted, little-brained,
wild-eyed multitude, reason beyond their instinct, persuasion beyond
their savagery, love beyond their heed.
But even while I listened, one thing I knew those sleek malcontents
heard too--the Spirit of man in that small voice of his--perplexed,
perhaps, and perverted, and out of tether; but none the less
unconquerable and sublime.
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