Остров доктора Моро
The Reversion of the Beast Folk.
Hehadlongsincelostspeechandactivemovement,andthelankhairofthelittlebrutegrewthickereverydayandhisstumpyclawsmoreaskew.Hemadeamoaningnoisewhenhewashehadattractedmyattention,wentalittlewaytowardsthebushesandlookedbackatme.
AtfirstIdidnotunderstand,butpresentlyitoccurredtomethathewishedmetofollowhim;andthisIdidatlast,—slowly,forthedaywashot.Whenwereachedthetreesheclamberedintothem,forhecouldtravelbetteramongtheirswingingcreepersthanontheground.AndsuddenlyinatrampledspaceIcameuponaghastlygroup.MySaint-Bernard-creaturelayontheground,dead;andnearhisbodycrouchedtheHyena-swine,grippingthequiveringfleshwithitsmisshapenclaws,gnawingatit,andsnarlingwithdelight.AsIapproached,themonsterlifteditsglaringeyestomine,itslipswenttremblingbackfromitsred-stainedteeth,anditgrowledmenacingly.Itwasnotafraidandnotashamed;thelastvestigeofthehumantainthadvanished.Iadvancedastepfarther,stopped,andpulledoutmyrevolver.AtlastIhadhimfacetoface.
Thebrutemadenosignofretreat;butitsearswentback,itshairbristled,anditsbodycrouchedtogether.Iaimedbetweentheeyesandfired.AsIdidso,theThingrosestraightatmeinaleap,andIwasknockedoverlikeaninepin.Itclutchedatmewithitscrippledhand,andstruckmeintheface.Itsspringcarrieditoverme.
