Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (46 page)

"She
seemed
to
have
fainted.
I
put
her
carefully
upon
my
shoulder and
rose
to
push
on,
and
then
there
came
a
horrible
realisation.
In manoeuvring
with
my
matches
and
Weena,
I
had
turned
myself
about several
times,
and
now
I
had
not
the
faintest
idea
in
what
direction lay
my
path.
For
all
I
knew,
I
might
be
facing
back
towards
the
Palace of
Green
Porcelain.
I
found
myself
in
a
cold
sweat.
I
had
to
think rapidly
what
to
do.
I
determined
to
build
a
fire
and
encamp
where we
were.
I
put
Weena,
still
motionless,
down
upon
a
turfy
bole,
and very
hastily,
as
my
first
lump
of
camphor
waned,
I
began
collecting sticks
and
leaves.
Here
and
there
out
of
the
darkness
round
me
the Morlocks'
eyes
shone
like
carbuncles.

"The
camphor
flickered
and
went
out.
I
lit
a
match,
and
as
I
did so,
two
white
forms
that
had
been
approaching
Weena
dashed
hastily away.
One
was
so
blinded
by
the
light
that
he
came
straight
for
me, and
I
felt
his
bones
grind
under
the
blow
of
my
fist.
He
gave
a
whoop of
dismay,
staggered
a
little
way,
and
fell
down.
I
lit
another
piece
of camphor,
and
went
on
gathering
my
bonfire.
Presently
I
noticed
how dry
was
some
of
the
foliage
above
me,
for
since
my
arrival
on
the
Time Machine,
a
matter
of
a
week,
no
rain
had
fallen.
So,
instead
of
casting about
among
the
trees
for
fallen
twigs,
I
began
leaping
up
and dragging
down
branches.
Very
soon
I
had
a
choking
smoky
fire
of green
wood
and
dry
sticks,
and
could
economise
my
camphor.
Then I
turned
to
where
Weena
lay
beside
my
iron
mace.
I
tried
what
I could
to
revive
her,
but
she
lay
like
one
dead.
I
could
not
even
satisfy myself
whether
or
not
she
breathed.

"Now,
the
smoke
of
the
fire
beat
over
towards
me,
and
it
must
have made
me
heavy
of
a
sudden.
Moreover,
the
vapour
of
camphor
was
in the
air.
My
fire
would
not
need
replenishing
for
an
hour
or
so.
I
felt very
weary
after
my
exertion,
and
sat
down.
The
wood,
too,
was
full
of a
slumbrous
murmur
that
I
did
not
understand.
I
seemed
just
to
nod and
open
my
eyes.
But
all
was
dark,
and
the
Morlocks
had
their
hands upon
me.
Flinging
off
their
clinging
fingers
I
hastily
felt
in
my
pocket for
the
match-box,
and—it
had
gone!
Then
they
gripped
and
closed with
me,
again.
In
a
moment
I
knew
what
had
happened.
I
had
slept, and
my
fire
had
gone
out,
and
the
bitterness
of
death
came
over
my soul.
The
forest
seemed
full
of
the
smell
of
burning
wood.
I
was caught
by
the
neck,
by
the
hair,
by
the
arms,
and
pulled
down.
It
was indescribably
horrible
in
the
darkness
to
feel
all
these
soft
creatures heaped
upon
me.
I
felt
as
if
I
was
in
a
monstrous
spider's
web.
I
was overpowered,
and
went
down.
I
felt
little
teeth
nipping
at
my
neck. I
rolled
over,
and
as
I
did
so
my
hand
came
against
my
iron
lever.
It gave
me
strength.
I
struggled-
up,
shaking
the
human
rats
from
me, and,
holding
the
bar
short,
I
thrust
where
I
judged
their
faces
might be.
I
could
feel
the
succulent
giving
of
flesh
and
bone
under
my
blows, and
for
a
moment
I
was
free.