The Purple Cloud Page 12

andperhaps now was loitering here in the hope of picking us up on our wayto Spitzbergen.

  In any case, wild was the haste with which I fought my way to be at her,my gasping mouth all the time drawn back in a _rictus_ of laughter atthe anticipation of their gladness to see me, their excitement to hearthe grand tidings of the Pole attained. Anon I waved the paddle, thoughI knew that they could not yet see me, and then I dug deep at thewhitish water. What astonished me was her main-sail and fore-mastsquare-sail--set that calm morning; and her screws were still, for shemoved not at all. The sun was abroad like a cold spirit of light,touching the great ocean-room of floes with dazzling spots, and a tintalmost of rose was on the world, as it were of a just-dead bride in herspangles and white array. The _Boreal_ was the one little distantjet-black spot in all this purity: and upon her, as though she wereHeaven, I paddled, I panted. But she was in a queerish state: by 9 A.M.I could see that. Two of the windmill arms were not there, and halflowered down her starboard beam a boat hung askew; moreover, soon after10 I could clearly see that her main-sail had a long rent down themiddle.

  I could not at all make her out. She was not anchored, though asheet-anchor hung over at the starboard cathead; she was not moored; andtwo small ice-floes, one on each side, were sluggishly bombarding herbows.

  I began now to wave the paddle, battling for my breath, ecstatic, crazywith excitement, each second like a year to me. Very soon I could makeout someone at the bows, leaning well over, looking my way. Somethingput it into my head that it was Sallitt, and I began an impassionedshouting. 'Hi! Sallitt! Hallo! Hi!' I called.

  I did not see him move: I was still a good way off: but there he stood,leaning steadily over, looking my way. Between me and the ship now wasall navigable water among the floes, and the sight of him so visiblynear put into me such a shivering eagerness, that I was nothing else buta madman for the time, sending the kayak flying with venomous digs inquick-repeated spurts, and mixing with the diggings my crazy wavings,and with both the daft shoutings of 'Hallo! Hi! Bravo! I have _been tothe Pole!_'

  Well, vanity, vanity. Nearer still I drew: it was broad morning, goingon toward noon: I was half a mile away, I was fifty yards. But on boardthe _Boreal_, though now they _must_ have heard me, seen me, I observedno movement of welcome, but all, all was still as death that stillArctic morning, my God. Only, the ragged sail flapped a little, and--oneon each side--two ice-floes sluggishly bombarded the bows, with hollowsounds.

  I was certain now that Sallitt it was who looked across the ice: butwhen the ship swung a little round, I noticed that the direction of hisgaze was carried with her movement, he no longer looking my way.

  'Why, Sallitt!' I shouted reproachfully: 'why, Sallitt, man...!' Iwhined.

  But even as I shouted and whined, a perfect wild certainty was in myheart: for an aroma like peach, my God, had been suddenly wafted fromthe ship upon me, and I must have very well known then that thatwatchful outlook of Sallitt saw nothing, and on the _Boreal_ were deadmen all; indeed, very soon I saw one of his eyes looking like a glasseye which has slid askew, and glares distraught. And now again mywretched body failed, and my head dropped forward, where I sat, uponthe kayak-deck.

  * * * * *

  Well, after a long time, I lifted myself to look again at that forlornand wandering craft. There she lay, quiet, tragic, as it were culpableof the dark secret she bore; and Sallitt, who had been such good friendswith me, would not cease his stare. I knew quite well why he was there:he had leant over to vomit, and had leant ever since, his forearmspressed on the bulwark-beam, his left knee against the boards, and hisleft shoulder propped on the cathead. When I came quite near, I saw thatwith every bump of the two floes against the bows, his face shook inresponse, and nodded a little; strange to say, he had no covering on hishead, and I noted the play of the faint breezes in his uncut hair. Aftera time I would approach no more, for I was afraid; I did not dare, thesilence of the ship seemed so sacred and awful; and till late afternoonI sat there, watching the black and massive hull. Above her water-lineemerged all round a half-floating fringe of fresh-green sea-weed,proving old neglect; an abortive attempt had apparently been made tolower, or take in, the larch-wood pram, for there she hung by a jammeddavit-rope, stern up, bow in the water; the only two arms of thewindmill moved this way and that, through some three degrees, with an_andante_ creaking sing-song; some washed clothes, tied on the bow-spritrigging to dry, were still there; the iron casing all round the bluffbows was red and rough with rust; at several points the rigging was inconsiderable tangle; occasionally the boom moved a little with atortured skirling cadence; and the sail, rotten, I presume, fromexposure--for she had certainly encountered no bad weather--gave outanon a heavy languid flap at a rent down the middle. Besides Sallitt,looking out there where he had jammed himself, I saw no one.

  By a paddle-stroke now, and another presently, I had closely approachedher about four in the afternoon, though my awe of the ship wascomplicated by that perfume of hers, whose fearful effects I knew. Mytentative approach, however, proved to me, when I remained unaffected,that, here and now, whatever danger there had been was past; andfinally, by a hanging rope, with a thumping desperation of heart, Iclambered up her beam.

  * * * * *

  They had died, it seemed, very suddenly, for nearly all the twelve werein poses of activity. Egan was in the very act of ascending thecompanion-way; Lamburn was sitting against the chart-room door,apparently cleaning two carbines; Odling at the bottom of theengine-room stair seemed to be drawing on a pair of reindeer komagar;and Cartwright, who was often in liquor, had his arms frozen tight roundthe neck of Martin, whom he seemed to be kissing, they two lying starkat the foot of the mizzen-mast.

  Over all--over men, decks, rope-coils--in the cabin, in theengine-room--between skylight leaves--on every shelf, in everycranny--lay a purplish ash or dust, very impalpably fine. And steadilyreigning throughout the ship, like the very spirit of death, was thataroma of peach-blossom.

  * * * * *

  Here it had reigned, as I could see from the log-dates, from the rust onthe machinery, from the look of the bodies, from a hundred indications,during something over a year. It was, therefore, mainly by the randomworkings of winds and currents that this fragrant ship of death had beenbrought hither to me.

  And this was the first direct intimation which I had that the UnseenPowers (whoever and whatever they may be), who through the history ofthe world had been so very, very careful to conceal their Hand from theeyes of men, hardly any longer intended to be at the pains to concealtheir Hand from me. It was just as though the Boreal had been openlypresented to me by a spiritual agency, which, though I could not see it,I could readily apprehend.

  * * * * *

  The dust, though very thin and flighty above-decks, lay thicklydeposited below, and after having made a tour of investigationthroughout the ship, the first thing which I did was to examinethat--though I had tasted nothing all day, and was exhausted to death. Ifound my own microscope where I had left it in the box in my berth tostarboard, though I had to lift up Egan to get at it, and to step overLamburn to enter the chart-room; but there, toward evening, I sat at thetable and bent to see if I could make anything of the dust, while itseemed to me as if all the myriad spirits of men that have sojourned onthe earth, and angel and devil, and all Time and all Eternity, hungsilent round for my decision; and such an ague had me, that for a longtime my wandering finger-tips, all ataxic with agitation, eluded everydelicate effort which I made, and I could nothing do. Of course, I knowthat an odour of peach-blossom in the air, resulting in death, couldonly be associated with some vaporous effluvium of cyanogen, or ofhydrocyanic ('prussic') acid, or of both; and when I at last managed toexamine some of the dust under the microscope, I was not thereforesurprised to find, among the general mass of purplish ash, a number ofbright-yellow particles, which could only be minute crystals of potassicferro
cyanide. What potassic ferrocyanide was doing on board the _Boreal_I did not know, and I had neither the means, nor the force of mind,alas! to dive then further into the mystery; I understood only that bysome extraordinary means the air of the region just south of the Polarenviron had been impregnated with a vapour which was either cyanogen, orsome product of cyanogen; also, that this deadly vapour, which is verysoluble, had by now either been dissolved by the sea, or else dispersedinto space (probably the latter), leaving only its faint after-perfume;and seeing this, I let my poor abandoned head drop again on the table,and long hours I sat there staring mad, for I had a suspicion, my God,and a fear, in my breast.

  * * * * *

  The _Boreal,_ I found, contained sufficient provisions, untouched bythe dust, in cases, casks, &c., to last me, probably, fifty years. Aftertwo days, when I had partially scrubbed and boiled the filth of fifteenmonths from my skin, and solaced myself with better food, I