the metal monster-第1节

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The　Metal　Monster

by　A。　Merritt







PROLOGUE


Before　the　narrative　which　follows　was　placed　in　my　hands；　I　had　never　seen　Dr。　Walter　T。　Goodwin；　its　author。

When　the　manuscript　revealing　his　adventures　among　the　pre…historic　ruins　of　the　Nan…Matal　in　the　Carolines　（The　Moon　Pool）　had　been　given　me　by　the　International　Association　of　Science　for　editing　and　revision　to　meet　the　requirements　of　a　popular　presentation；　Dr。　Goodwin　had　left　America。　He　had　explained　that　he　was　still　too　shaken；　too　depressed；　to　be　able　to　recall　experiences　that　must　inevitably　carry　with　them　freshened　memories　of　those　whom　he　loved　so　well　and　from　whom；　he　felt；　he　was　separated　in　all　probability　forever。

I　had　understood　that　he　had　gone　to　some　remote　part　of　Asia　to　pursue　certain　botanical　studies；　and　it　was　therefore　with　the　liveliest　surprise　and　interest　that　I　received　a　summons　from　the　President　of　the　Association　to　meet　Dr。　Goodwin　at　a　designated　place　and　hour。

Through　my　close　study　of　the　Moon　Pool　papers　I　had　formed　a　mental　image　of　their　writer。　I　had　read；　too；　those　volumes　of　botanical　research　which　have　set　him　high　above　all　other　American　scientists　in　this　field；　gleaning　from　their　curious　mingling　of　extremely　technical　observations　and　minutely　accurate　but　extraordinarily　poetic　descriptions；　hints　to　amplify　my　picture　of　him。　It　gratified　me　to　find　I　had　drawn　a　pretty　good　one。

The　man　to　whom　the　President　of　the　Association　introduced　me　was　sturdy；　well…knit；　a　little　under　average　height。　He　had　a　broad　but　rather　low　forehead　that　reminded　me　somewhat　of　the　late　electrical　wizard　Steinmetz。　Under　level　black　brows　shone　eyes　of　clear　hazel；　kindly；　shrewd；　a　little　wistful；　lightly　humorous；　the　eyes　both　of　a　doer　and　a　dreamer。

Not　more　than　forty　I　judged　him　to　be。　A　close…trimmed；　pointed　beard　did　not　hide　the　firm　chin　and　the　clean…cut　mouth。　His　hair　was　thick　and　black　and　oddly　sprinkled　with　white；　small　streaks　and　dots　of　gleaming　silver　that　shone　with　a　curiously　metallic　luster。

His　right　arm　was　closely　bound　to　his　breast。　His　manner　as　he　greeted　me　was　tinged　with　shyness。　He　extended　his　left　hand　in　greeting；　and　as　I　clasped　the　fingers　I　was　struck　by　their　peculiar；　pronounced；　yet　pleasant　warmth；　a　sensation；　indeed；　curiously　electric。

The　Association's　President　forced　him　gently　back　into　his　chair。

〃Dr。　Goodwin；〃　he　said；　turning　to　me；　〃is　not　entirely　recovered　as　yet　from　certain　consequences　of　his　adventures。　He　will　explain　to　you　later　what　these　are。　In　the　meantime；　Mr。　Merritt；　will　you　read　this？〃

I　took　the　sheets　he　handed　me；　and　as　I　read　them　felt　the　gaze　of　Dr。　Goodwin　full　upon　me；　searching；　weighing；　estimating。　When　I　raised　my　eyes　from　the　letter　I　found　in　his　a　new　expression。　The　shyness　was　gone；　they　were　filled　with　complete　friendliness。　Evidently　I　had　passed　muster。

〃You　will　accept；　sir？〃　It　was　the　president's　gravely　courteous　tone。

〃Accept！〃　I　exclaimed。　〃Why；　of　course；　I　accept。　It　is　not　only　one　of　the　greatest　honors；　but　to　me　one　of　the　greatest　delights　to　act　as　a　collaborator　with　Dr。　Goodwin。〃

The　president　smiled。

〃In　that　case；　sir；　there　is　no　need　for　me　to　remain　longer；〃　he　said。　〃Dr。　Goodwin　has　with　him　his　manuscript　as　far　as　he　has　progressed　with　it。　I　will　leave　you　two　alone　for　your　discussion。〃

He　bowed　to　us　and；　picking　up　his　old…fashioned　bell…crowned　silk　hat　and　his　quaint；　heavy　cane　of　ebony；　withdrew。　Dr。　Goodwin　turned　to　me。

〃I　will　start；〃　he　said；　after　a　little　pause；　〃from　when　I　met　Richard　Drake　on　the　field　of　blue　poppies　that　are　like　a　great　prayer…rug　at　the　gray　feet　of　the　nameless　mountain。〃

The　sun　sank；　the　shadows　fell；　the　lights　of　the　city　sparkled　out；　for　hours　New　York　roared　about　me　unheeded　while　I　listened　to　the　tale　of　that　utterly　weird；　stupendous　drama　of　an　unknown　life；　of　unknown　creatures；　unknown　forces；　and　of　unconquerable　human　heroism　played　among　the　hidden　gorges　of　unknown　Asia。

It　was　dawn　when　I　left　him　for　my　own　home。　Nor　was　it　for　many　hours　after　that　I　laid　his　then　incomplete　manuscript　down　and　sought　sleepand　found　a　troubled　sleep。


A。　MERRITT







CHAPTER　I

VALLEY　OF　THE　BLUE　POPPIES

In　this　great　crucible　of　life　we　call　the　worldin　the　vaster　one　we　call　the　universethe　mysteries　lie　close　packed；　uncountable　as　grains　of　sand　on　ocean's　shores。　They　thread　gigantic；　the　star…flung　spaces；　they　creep；　atomic；　beneath　the　microscope's　peering　eye。　They　walk　beside　us；　unseen　and　unheard；　calling　out　to　us；　asking　why　we　are　deaf　to　their　crying；　blind　to　their　wonder。

Sometimes　the　veils　drop　from　a　man's　eyes；　and　he　sees　and　speaks　of　his　vision。　Then　those　who　have　not　seen　pass　him　by　with　the　lifted　brows　of　disbelief；　or　they　mock　him；　or　if　his　vision　has　been　great　enough　they　fall　upon　and　destroy　him。

For　the　greater　the　mystery；　the　more　bitterly　is　its　verity　assailed；　upon　what　seem　the　lesser　a　man　may　give　testimony　and　at　least　gain　for　himself　a　hearing。

There　is　reason　for　this。　Life　is　a　ferment；　and　upon　and　about　it；　shifting　and　changing；　adding　to　or　taking　away；　beat　over　legions　of　forces；　seen　and　unseen；　known　and　unknown。　And　man；　an　atom　in　the　ferment；　clings　desperately　to　what　to　him　seems　stable；　nor　greets　with　joy　him　who　hazards　that　what　he　grips　may　be　but　a　broken　staff；　and；　so　saying；　fails　to　hold　forth　a　sturdier　one。

Earth　is　a　ship；　plowing　her　way　through　uncharted　oceans　of　space　wherein　are　strange　currents；　hidden　shoals　and　reefs；　and　where　blow　the　unknown　winds　of　Cosmos。

If　to　the　voyagers；　painfully　plotting　their　course；　comes　one　who　cries　that　their　charts　must　be　remade；　nor　can　tell　WHY　they　must　bethat　man　is　not　welcomeno！

Therefore　it　is　that　men　have　grown　chary　of　giving　testimony　upon　mysteries。　Yet　knowing　each　in　his　own　heart　the　truth　of　that　vision　he　has　himself　beheld；　lo；　it　is　that　in　whose　reality　he　most　believes。

The　spot　where　I　had　encamped　was　of　a　singular　beauty；　so　beautiful　that　it　caught　the　throat　and　set　an　ache　within　the　breastuntil　from　it　a　tranquillity　distilled　that　was　like　healing　mist。

Since　early　March　I　had　been　wandering。　It　was　now　mid…July。　And　for　the　first　time　since　my　pilgrimage　had　begun　I　dranknot　of　forgetfulness；　for　that　could　never　bebut　of　anodyne　for　a　sorrow　which　had　held　fast　upon　me　since　my　return　from　the　Carolines　a　year　before。

No　need　to　dwell　here　upon　thatit　has　been　written。　Nor　shall　I　recite　the　reasons　for　my　restlessnessfor　these　are　known　to　those　who　have　read　that　history　of　mine。　Nor　is　there　cause　to　set　forth　at　length　the　steps　by　which　I　had　arrived　at　this　vale　of　peace。

Sufficient　is　to　tell　that　in　New　York　one　night；　reading　over　what　is　perhaps　the　most　sensational　of　my　books　〃The　Poppies　and　Primulas　of　Southern　Tibet；〃　the　result　of　my　travels　of　1910…1911；　I　determined　to　return　to　that　quiet；　forbidden　land。　There；　if　anywhere；　might　I　find　something　akin　to　forgetting。

There　was　a　certain　flower　which　I　long　had　wished　to　study　in　its　mutations　from　the　singular　forms　appearing　on　the　southern　slopes　of　the　ElburzPersia's　mountainous　chain　that　extends　from　Azerbaijan　in　the　west　to　Khorasan　in　the　east；　from　thence　I　would　follow　its　modified　types　in　the　Hindu…Kush　ranges　and　its　migrations　along　the　southern　scarps　of　the　Trans…Himalayas　the　unexplored　upheaval；　higher　than　the　Himalayas　themselves；　more　deeply　cut　with　precipice　and　gorge；　which　Sven　Hedin　had　touched　and　named　on　his　journey　to　Lhasa。

Having　accomplished　this；　I　planned　to　push　across　the　passes　to　the　Manasarowar　Lakes；　where；　legend　has　it；　the　strange；　luminous　purple　lotuses　grow。

An　ambitious　project；　undeniably　fraught　with　danger；　but　it　is　written　that　desperate　diseases　require　desperate　remedies；　and　until　inspiration　or　message　how　to　rejoin　those　whom　I　had　loved　so　dearly　came　to　me；　nothing　less；　I　felt；　could　dull　my　heartache。

And；　frankly；　feeling　that　no　such　inspiration　or　message　could　come；　I　did　not　much　care　as　to　the　end。

In　Teheran　I　had　picked　up　a　most　unusual　servant；　yes；　more　than　this；　a　companion　and　counselor　and　interpreter　as　well。

He　was　a　Chinese；　his　name　Chiu…Ming。　His　first　thirty　years　had　been　spent　at　the　great　Lamasery　of　Palkhor…Choinde　at　Gyantse；　west　of　Lhasa。　Why　he　had　gone　from　there；　how　he　had　come　to　Teheran；　I　never　asked。　It　was　most　fortunate　that　he　had　gone；　and　that　I　had　found　him。　He　recommended　himself　to　me　as　the　best　cook　within　ten　thousand　miles　of　Pekin。

For　almost　three　months　we　had　journeyed；　Chiu…Ming　and　I　and　the　two　ponies　that　carried　my　impedimenta。

We　had　traversed　mountain　roads　which　had　echoed　to　the　marching　feet　of　the　hosts　of　Darius；　to　the　hordes　of　the　Satraps。　The　highways　of　the　Achaemenidsyes；　and　which　before　them　had　trembled　to　the　tramplings　of　the　myriads　of　the　godlike　Dravidian　conquerors。

We　had　slipped　over　ancient　Iranian　trails；　over　paths　which　the　warriors　of　conquering　Alexander　had　traversed；　dust　of　bones　of　Macedons；　of　Greeks；　of　Romans；　beat　about　us；　ashes　of　the　flamin