<SPAN name="chap03"></SPAN>
<h3> 3 </h3>
<p>The report of a gun blasted the silence of a dead Devonport with
startling abruptness.</p>
<p>It came from the direction of the launch, and in an instant we three
were running for the boat as fast as our legs would carry us. As we
came in sight of it we saw Delcarte a hundred yards inland from the
launch, leaning over something which lay upon the ground. As we called
to him he waved his cap, and stooping, lifted a small deer for our
inspection.</p>
<p>I was about to congratulate him on his trophy when we were startled by
a horrid, half-human, half-bestial scream a little ahead and to the
right of us. It seemed to come from a clump of rank and tangled bush
not far from where Delcarte stood. It was a horrid, fearsome sound,
the like of which never had fallen upon my ears before.</p>
<p>We looked in the direction from which it came. The smile had died from
Delcarte's lips. Even at the distance we were from him I saw his face
go suddenly white, and he quickly threw his rifle to his shoulder. At
the same moment the thing that had given tongue to the cry moved from
the concealing brushwood far enough for us, too, to see it.</p>
<p>Both Taylor and Snider gave little gasps of astonishment and dismay.</p>
<p>"What is it, sir?" asked the latter.</p>
<p>The creature stood about the height of a tall man's waist, and was long
and gaunt and sinuous, with a tawny coat striped with black, and with
white throat and belly. In conformation it was similar to a cat—a
huge cat, exaggerated colossal cat, with fiendish eyes and the most
devilish cast of countenance, as it wrinkled its bristling snout and
bared its great yellow fangs.</p>
<p>It was pacing, or rather, slinking, straight for Delcarte, who had now
leveled his rifle upon it.</p>
<p>"What is it, sir?" mumbled Snider again, and then a half-forgotten
picture from an old natural history sprang to my mind, and I recognized
in the frightful beast the Felis tigris of ancient Asia, specimens of
which had, in former centuries, been exhibited in the Western
Hemisphere.</p>
<p>Snider and Taylor were armed with rifles and revolvers, while I carried
only a revolver. Seizing Snider's rifle from his trembling hands, I
called to Taylor to follow me, and together we ran forward, shouting,
to attract the beast's attention from Delcarte until we should all be
quite close enough to attack with the greatest assurance of success.</p>
<p>I cried to Delcarte not to fire until we reached his side, for I was
fearful lest our small caliber, steel-jacketed bullets should, far from
killing the beast, tend merely to enrage it still further. But he
misunderstood me, thinking that I had ordered him to fire.</p>
<p>With the report of his rifle the tiger stopped short in apparent
surprise, then turned and bit savagely at its shoulder for an instant,
after which it wheeled again toward Delcarte, issuing the most terrific
roars and screams, and launched itself, with incredible speed, toward
the brave fellow, who now stood his ground pumping bullets from his
automatic rifle as rapidly as the weapon would fire.</p>
<p>Taylor and I also opened up on the creature, and as it was broadside to
us it offered a splendid target, though for all the impression we
appeared to make upon the great cat we might as well have been
launching soap bubbles at it.</p>
<p>Straight as a torpedo it rushed for Delcarte, and, as Taylor and I
stumbled on through the tall grass toward our unfortunate comrade, we
saw the tiger rear upon him and crush him to the earth.</p>
<p>Not a backward step had the noble Delcarte taken. Two hundred years of
peace had not sapped the red blood from his courageous line. He went
down beneath that avalanche of bestial savagery still working his gun
and with his face toward his antagonist. Even in the instant that I
thought him dead I could not help but feel a thrill of pride that he
was one of my men, one of my class, a Pan-American gentleman of birth.
And that he had demonstrated one of the principal contentions of the
army-and-navy adherents—that military training was necessary for the
salvation of personal courage in the Pan-American race which for
generations had had to face no dangers more grave than those incident
to ordinary life in a highly civilized community, safeguarded by every
means at the disposal of a perfectly organized and all-powerful
government utilizing the best that advanced science could suggest.</p>
<p>As we ran toward Delcarte, both Taylor and I were struck by the fact
that the beast upon him appeared not to be mauling him, but lay quiet
and motionless upon its prey, and when we were quite close, and the
muzzles of our guns were at the animal's head, I saw the explanation of
this sudden cessation of hostilities—Felis tigris was dead.</p>
<p>One of our bullets, or one of the last that Delcarte fired, had
penetrated the heart, and the beast had died even as it sprawled
forward crushing Delcarte to the ground.</p>
<p>A moment later, with our assistance, the man had scrambled from beneath
the carcass of his would-be slayer, without a scratch to indicate how
close to death he had been.</p>
<p>Delcarte's buoyance was entirely unruffled. He came from under the
tiger with a broad grin on his handsome face, nor could I perceive that
a muscle trembled or that his voice showed the least indication of
nervousness or excitement.</p>
<p>With the termination of the adventure, we began to speculate upon the
explanation of the presence of this savage brute at large so great a
distance from its native habitat. My readings had taught me that it
was practically unknown outside of Asia, and that, so late as the
twentieth century, at least, there had been no savage beasts outside
captivity in England.</p>
<p>As we talked, Snider joined us, and I returned his rifle to him.
Taylor and Delcarte picked up the slain deer, and we all started down
toward the launch, walking slowly. Delcarte wanted to fetch the
tiger's skin, but I had to deny him permission, since we had no means
to properly cure it.</p>
<p>Upon the beach, we skinned the deer and cut away as much meat as we
thought we could dispose of, and as we were again embarking to continue
up the river for fresh water and fuel, we were startled by a series of
screams from the bushes a short distance away.</p>
<p>"Another Felis tigris," said Taylor.</p>
<p>"Or a dozen of them," supplemented Delcarte, and, even as he spoke,
there leaped into sight, one after another, eight of the beasts, full
grown—magnificent specimens.</p>
<p>At the sight of us, they came charging down like infuriated demons. I
saw that three rifles would be no match for them, and so I gave the
word to put out from shore, hoping that the "tiger," as the ancients
called him, could not swim.</p>
<p>Sure enough, they all halted at the beach, pacing back and forth,
uttering fiendish cries, and glaring at us in the most malevolent
manner.</p>
<p>As we motored away, we presently heard the calls of similar animals far
inland. They seemed to be answering the cries of their fellows at the
water's edge, and from the wide distribution and great volume of the
sound we came to the conclusion that enormous numbers of these beasts
must roam the adjacent country.</p>
<p>"They have eaten up the inhabitants," murmured Snider, shuddering.</p>
<p>"I imagine you are right," I agreed, "for their extreme boldness and
fearlessness in the presence of man would suggest either that man is
entirely unknown to them, or that they are extremely familiar with him
as their natural and most easily procured prey."</p>
<p>"But where did they come from?" asked Delcarte. "Could they have
traveled here from Asia?"</p>
<p>I shook my head. The thing was a puzzle to me. I knew that it was
practically beyond reason to imagine that tigers had crossed the
mountain ranges and rivers and all the great continent of Europe to
travel this far from their native lairs, and entirely impossible that
they should have crossed the English Channel at all. Yet here they
were, and in great numbers.</p>
<p>We continued up the Tamar several miles, filled our casks, and then
landed to cook some of our deer steak, and have the first square meal
that had fallen to our lot since the Coldwater deserted us. But scarce
had we built our fire and prepared the meat for cooking than Snider,
whose eyes had been constantly roving about the landscape from the
moment that we left the launch, touched me on the arm and pointed to a
clump of bushes which grew a couple of hundred yards away.</p>
<p>Half concealed behind their screening foliage I saw the yellow and
black of a big tiger, and, as I looked, the beast stalked majestically
toward us. A moment later, he was followed by another and another, and
it is needless to state that we beat a hasty retreat to the launch.</p>
<p>The country was apparently infested by these huge Carnivora, for after
three other attempts to land and cook our food we were forced to
abandon the idea entirely, as each time we were driven off by hunting
tigers.</p>
<p>It was also equally impossible to obtain the necessary ingredients for
our chemical fuel, and, as we had very little left aboard, we
determined to step our folding mast and proceed under sail, hoarding
our fuel supply for use in emergencies.</p>
<p>I may say that it was with no regret that we bid adieu to Tigerland, as
we rechristened the ancient Devon, and, beating out into the Channel,
turned the launch's nose southeast, to round Bolt Head and continue up
the coast toward the Strait of Dover and the North Sea.</p>
<p>I was determined to reach London as soon as possible, that we might
obtain fresh clothing, meet with cultured people, and learn from the
lips of Englishmen the secrets of the two centuries since the East had
been divorced from the West.</p>
<p>Our first stopping place was the Isle of Wight. We entered the Solent
about ten o'clock one morning, and I must confess that my heart sank as
we came close to shore. No lighthouse was visible, though one was
plainly indicated upon my map. Upon neither shore was sign of human
habitation. We skirted the northern shore of the island in fruitless
search for man, and then at last landed upon an eastern point, where
Newport should have stood, but where only weeds and great trees and
tangled wild wood rioted, and not a single manmade thing was visible to
the eye.</p>
<p>Before landing, I had the men substitute soft bullets for the
steel-jacketed projectiles with which their belts and magazines were
filled. Thus equipped, we felt upon more even terms with the tigers,
but there was no sign of the tigers, and I decided that they must be
confined to the mainland.</p>
<p>After eating, we set out in search of fuel, leaving Taylor to guard the
launch. For some reason I could not trust Snider alone. I knew that
he looked with disapproval upon my plan to visit England, and I did not
know but what at his first opportunity, he might desert us, taking the
launch with him, and attempt to return to Pan-America.</p>
<p>That he would be fool enough to venture it, I did not doubt.</p>
<p>We had gone inland for a mile or more, and were passing through a
park-like wood, when we came suddenly upon the first human beings we
had seen since we sighted the English coast.</p>
<p>There were a score of men in the party. Hairy, half-naked men they
were, resting in the shade of a great tree. At the first sight of us
they sprang to their feet with wild yells, seizing long spears that had
lain beside them as they rested.</p>
<p>For a matter of fifty yards they ran from us as rapidly as they could,
and then they turned and surveyed us for a moment. Evidently
emboldened by the scarcity of our numbers, they commenced to advance
upon us, brandishing their spears and shouting horribly.</p>
<p>They were short and muscular of build, with long hair and beards
tangled and matted with filth. Their heads, however, were shapely, and
their eyes, though fierce and warlike, were intelligent.</p>
<p>Appreciation of these physical attributes came later, of course, when I
had better opportunity to study the men at close range and under
circumstances less fraught with danger and excitement. At the moment I
saw, and with unmixed wonder, only a score of wild savages charging
down upon us, where I had expected to find a community of civilized and
enlightened people.</p>
<p>Each of us was armed with rifle, revolver, and cutlass, but as we stood
shoulder to shoulder facing the wild men I was loath to give the
command to fire upon them, inflicting death or suffering upon strangers
with whom we had no quarrel, and so I attempted to restrain them for
the moment that we might parley with them.</p>
<p>To this end I raised my left hand above my head with the palm toward
them as the most natural gesture indicative of peaceful intentions
which occurred to me. At the same time I called aloud to them that we
were friends, though, from their appearance, there was nothing to
indicate that they might understand Pan-American, or ancient English,
which are of course practically identical.</p>
<p>At my gesture and words they ceased their shouting and came to a halt a
few paces from us. Then, in deep tones, one who was in advance of the
others and whom I took to be the chief or leader of the party replied
in a tongue which while intelligible to us, was so distorted from the
English language from which it evidently had sprung, that it was with
difficulty that we interpreted it.</p>
<p>"Who are you," he asked, "and from what country?"</p>
<p>I told him that we were from Pan-America, but he only shook his head
and asked where that was. He had never heard of it, or of the Atlantic
Ocean which I told him separated his country from mine.</p>
<p>"It has been two hundred years," I told him, "since a Pan-American
visited England."</p>
<p>"England?" he asked. "What is England?"</p>
<p>"Why this is a part of England!" I exclaimed.</p>
<p>"This is Grubitten," he assured me. "I know nothing about England, and
I have lived here all my life."</p>
<p>It was not until long after that the derivation of Grubitten occurred
to me. Unquestionably it is a corruption of Great Britain, a name
formerly given to the large island comprising England, Scotland and
Wales. Subsequently we heard it pronounced Grabrittin and Grubritten.</p>
<p>I then asked the fellow if he could direct us to Ryde or Newport; but
again he shook his head, and said that he never had heard of such
countries. And when I asked him if there were any cities in this
country he did not know what I meant, never having heard the word
cities.</p>
<p>I explained my meaning as best I could by stating that by city I
referred to a place where many people lived together in houses.</p>
<p>"Oh," he exclaimed, "you mean a camp! Yes, there are two great camps
here, East Camp and West Camp. We are from East Camp."</p>
<p>The use of the word camp to describe a collection of habitations
naturally suggested war to me, and my next question was as to whether
the war was over, and who had been victorious.</p>
<p>"No," he replied to this question. "The war is not yet over. But it
soon will be, and it will end, as it always does, with the Westenders
running away. We, the Eastenders, are always victorious."</p>
<p>"No," I said, seeing that he referred to the petty tribal wars of his
little island, "I mean the Great War, the war with Germany. Is it
ended—and who was victorious?"</p>
<p>He shook his head impatiently.</p>
<p>"I never heard," he said, "of any of these strange countries of which
you speak."</p>
<p>It seemed incredible, and yet it was true. These people living at the
very seat of the Great War knew nothing of it, though but two centuries
had passed since, to our knowledge, it had been running in the height
of its titanic frightfulness all about them, and to us upon the far
side of the Atlantic still was a subject of keen interest.</p>
<p>Here was a lifelong inhabitant of the Isle of Wight who never had heard
of either Germany or England! I turned to him quite suddenly with a
new question.</p>
<p>"What people live upon the mainland?" I asked, and pointed in the
direction of the Hants coast.</p>
<p>"No one lives there," he replied.</p>
<p>"Long ago, it is said, my people dwelt across the waters upon that
other land; but the wild beasts devoured them in such numbers that
finally they were driven here, paddling across upon logs and driftwood,
nor has any dared return since, because of the frightful creatures
which dwell in that horrid country."</p>
<p>"Do no other peoples ever come to your country in ships?" I asked.</p>
<p>He never heard the word ship before, and did not know its meaning. But
he assured me that until we came he had thought that there were no
other peoples in the world other than the Grubittens, who consist of
the Eastenders and the Westenders of the ancient Isle of Wight.</p>
<p>Assured that we were inclined to friendliness, our new acquaintances
led us to their village, or, as they call it, camp. There we found a
thousand people, perhaps, dwelling in rude shelters, and living upon
the fruits of the chase and such sea food as is obtainable close to
shore, for they had no boats, nor any knowledge of such things.</p>
<p>Their weapons were most primitive, consisting of rude spears tipped
with pieces of metal pounded roughly into shape. They had no
literature, no religion, and recognized no law other than the law of
might. They produced fire by striking a bit of flint and steel
together, but for the most part they ate their food raw. Marriage is
unknown among them, and while they have the word, mother, they did not
know what I meant by "father." The males fight for the favor of the
females. They practice infanticide, and kill the aged and physically
unfit.</p>
<p>The family consists of the mother and the children, the men dwelling
sometimes in one hut and sometimes in another. Owing to their bloody
duels, they are always numerically inferior to the women, so there is
shelter for them all.</p>
<p>We spent several hours in the village, where we were objects of the
greatest curiosity. The inhabitants examined our clothing and all our
belongings, and asked innumerable questions concerning the strange
country from which we had come and the manner of our coming.</p>
<p>I questioned many of them concerning past historical events, but they
knew nothing beyond the narrow limits of their island and the savage,
primitive life they led there. London they had never heard of, and
they assured me that I would find no human beings upon the mainland.</p>
<p>Much saddened by what I had seen, I took my departure from them, and
the three of us made our way back to the launch, accompanied by about
five hundred men, women, girls, and boys.</p>
<p>As we sailed away, after procuring the necessary ingredients of our
chemical fuel, the Grubittens lined the shore in silent wonder at the
strange sight of our dainty craft dancing over the sparkling waters,
and watched us until we were lost to their sight.</p>
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