Остров доктора Моро
How the Beast Folk Taste Blood.
Thewholecrowdseemedtoswingroundinthedirectionoftheglintoffire,andItoowasswungroundbythemagnetismofthemovement.InanothersecondIwasrunning,oneofatumultuousshoutingcrowd,inpursuitoftheescapingLeopard-man.
ThatisallIcantelldefinitely.IsawtheLeopard-manstrikeMoreau,andtheneverythingspunaboutmeuntilIwasrunningheadlong.M’lingwasahead,closeinpursuitofthefugitive.Behind,theirtonguesalreadylollingout,rantheWolf-womeningreatleapingstrides.TheSwinefolkfollowed,squealingwithexcitement,andthetwoBull-menintheirswathingsofwhite.ThencameMoreauinaclusteroftheBeastPeople,hiswide-brimmedstrawhatblownoff,hisrevolverinhand,andhislankwhitehairstreamingout.TheHyena-swineranbesideme,keepingpacewithmeandglancingfurtivelyatmeoutofhisfelineeyes,andtheotherscamepatteringandshoutingbehindus.
TheLeopard-manwentburstinghiswaythroughthelongcanes,whichsprangbackashepassed,andrattledinM’ling’sface.Weothersintherearfoundatrampledpathforuswhenwereachedthebrake.Thechaselaythroughthebrakeforperhapsaquarterofamile,andthenplungedintoadensethicket,whichretardedourmovementsexceedingly,thoughwewentthroughitinacrowdtogether,—frondsflickingintoourfaces,ropycreeperscatchingusunderthechinorgrippingourankles,thornyplantshookingintoandtearingclothandfleshtogether.
