University of Virginia Library

16. EDGAR HUNTLY.
CHAPTER XV.

Here, my friend, thou must
permit me to pause. The following incidents
are of a kind to which the most
ardent invention has never conceived a
parallel. Fortune, in her most wayward
mood, could scarcely be suspected of an
influence like this. The scene was pregnant
with astonishment and horror. I
cannot, even now, recall it without reviving
the dismay and confusion which I
then experienced.

Possibly, the period will arrive when
I shall look back without agony on the

perils I have undergone. That period
is still distant. Solitude and sleep are
now no more than the signals to summon
up a tribe of ugly phantoms. Famine,
and blindness, and death, and savage
enemies, never fail to be conjured up by
the silence and darkness of the night. I
cannot dissipate them by any efforts of
reason. My cowardice requires the perpetual
consolation of light. My heart
droops when I mark the decline of the
sun, and I never sleep but with a candle
burning at my pillow. If, by any chance,
I should awake and find myself immersed
in darkness, I know not what act of desperation
I might be suddenly impelled to
commit.

I have delayed this narrative, longer
than my duty to my friend enjoined.
Now that I am able to hold a pen, I will
hasten to terminate that uncertainty with
regard to my fate, in which my silence

has involved thee. I will recall that
series of unheard of and disastrous vicissitudes
which has constituted the latest
portion of my life.

I am not certain, however, that I shall
relate them in an intelligible manner.
One image runs into another, sensations
succeed in so rapid a train, that I fear, I
shall be unable to distribute and express
them with sufficient perspicuity. As I look
back, my heart is sore and aches within
my bosom. I am conscious to a kind of
complex sentiment of distress and forlornness
that cannot be perfectly pourtrayed
by words; but I must do as well as I can.
In the utmost vigour of my faculties, no
eloquence that I possess would do justice
to the tale. Now in my languishing and
feeble state, I shall furnish thee with
little more than a glimpse of the truth.
With these glimpses, transient and faint
as they are, thou must be satisfied.

I have said that I slept. My memory
assures me of this: It informs of the
previous circumstances of my laying
aside my clothes, of placing the light upon
a chair within reach of my pillow, of
throwing myself upon the bed, and of
gazing on the rays of the moon reflected
on the wall, and almost obscured by
those of the candle. I remember my
occasional relapses into fits of incoherent
fancies, the harbingers of sleep: I
remember, as it were, the instant when
my thoughts ceased to flow, and my
senses were arrested by the leaden wand
of forgetfulness.

My return to sensation and to consciousness
took place in no such tranquil
scene. I emerged from oblivion by
degrees so slow and so faint, that their
succession cannot be marked. When
enabled at length to attend to the information
which my senses afforded, I was

conscious, for a time, of nothing but
existence. It was unaccompanied with
lassitude or pain, but I felt disinclined
to stretch my limbs, or raise my eye-lids.
My thoughts were wildering and mazy,
and though consciousness were present,
it was disconnected with the loco-motive
or voluntary power.

From this state a transition was speedily
effected. I perceived that my posture
was supine, and that I lay upon my
back. I attempted to open my eyes.
The weight that oppressed them was too
great for a slight exertion to remove.
The exertion which I made cost me a
pang more acute than any which I ever
experienced. My eyes, however, were
opened; but the darkness that environed
me was as intense as before.

I attempted to rise, but my limbs were
cold, and my joints had almost lost their

flexibility. My efforts were repeated, and
at length I attained a sitting posture. I
was now sensible of pain in my shoulders
and back. I was universally in that state
to which the frame is reduced by blows
of a club, mercilessly and endlessly
repeated; my. temples throbbed and my
face was covered with clamy and cold
drops, but that which threw me into
deepest consternation was, my inability
to see. I turned my head to different
quarters, I stretched my eye-lids, and
exerted every visual energy, but in vain.
I was wrapt in the murkiest and most
impenetrable gloom.

The first effort of reflection was to
suggest the belief that I was blind; that
disease is known to assail us in a moment
and without previous warning. This
surely was the misfortune that had now
befallen me. Some ray, however fleeting
and uncertain, could not fail to be

discerned, if the power of vision were not
utterly extinguished. In what circumstances
could I possibly be placed, from
which every particle of light should, by
other means, be excluded.

This led my thoughts into a new
train. I endeavoured to recall the past,
but the past was too much in contradiction
to the present, and my intellect was
too much shattered by external violence,
to allow me accurately to review it.

Since my sight availed nothing to the
knowledge of my condition, I betook
myself to other instruments. The element
which I breathed was stagnant and cold.
The spot where I lay was rugged and hard.
I was neither naked nor clothed, a shirt
and trossars composed my dress, and
the shoes and stockings, which always
accompanied these, were now wanting,
What could I infer from this scanty garb,
this chilling atmosphere, this stony bed?

I had awakened as from sleep, What
was my condition when I fell asleep?
Surely it was different from the present.
Then I inhabited a lightsome chamber,
and was stretched upon a down bed. Now
I was supine upon a rugged surface and
immersed in palpable obscurity. Then
I was in perfect health; now my frame
was covered with bruises and every
joint was racked with pain. What
dungeon or den had received me, and
by whose command was I transported
hither?

After various efforts I stood upon
my feet. At first I tottered and staggered.
I stretched out my hands on
all sides but met only with vacuity. I
advanced forward. At the third step my
foot moved something which lay upon
the ground, I stooped and took it up, and
found, on examination, that it was an
Indian Tom-hawk. This incident afforded

me no hint from which I might
conjecture my state.

Proceeding irresolutely and slowly
forward, my hands at length touched
a wall. This, like the flooring, was of
stone, and was rugged and impenetrable.
I followed this wall. An advancing
angle occurred at a short distance, which
was followed by similar angles. I continued
to explore this clue, till the
suspicion occurred that I was merely
going round the walls of a vast and
irregular apartment.

The utter darkness disabled me
from comparing directions and distances.
This discovery, therefore, was not made
on a sudden and was still entangled with
some doubt. My blood recovered some
warmth, and my muscles some elasticity,
but in proportion as my sensibility
returned my pains augmented. Overpowered
by my fears and my agonies

Idesisted from my fruitless search, and sat
down, supporting my back against the
wall.

My excruciating sensations for a time
occupied my attention. These, in combination
with other causes, gradually produced
a species of delirium. I existed
as it were in a wakeful dream. With
nothing to correct my erroneous perceptions,
the images of the past occurred in
capricious combinations, and vivid hues.
Methought I was the victim of some tyrant
who had thrust me into a dungeon of his
fortress, and left me no power to determine
whether he intended I should perish
with famine, or linger out a long life in
hopeless imprisonment: Whether the
day was shut out by insuperable walls,
or the darkness that surrounded me, was
owing to the night and to the smallness
of those cranies through which day-light
was to be admitted, I conjectured in vain.

Sometimes I imagined myself buried
alive. Methought I had fallen into seeming
death and my friends had consigned
me to the tomb, from which a resurrection
was impossible. That in such a
case, my limbs would have been confined
to a coffin, and my coffin to a grave,
and that I should instantly have been
suffocated, did not occur to destroy
my supposition: Neither did this supposition
overwhelm me with terror or
prompt my efforts at deliverance. My
state was full of tumult and confusion,
and my attention was incessantly divided
between my painful sensations and
my feverish dreams,

There is no standard by which time
can be measured, but the succession of
our thoughts, and the changes that take
place in the external world. From the
latter I was totally excluded. The
former made the lapse of some hours

appear like the tediousness of weeks and
months. At length, a new sensation,
recalled my rambling meditations, and
gave substance to my fears. I now felt
the cravings of hunger, and perceived
that unless my deliverance were speedily
effected. I must suffer a tedious and
lingering death.

I once more tasked my understanding
and my senses, to discover the nature of
my present situation and the means of
escape. I listened to catch some sound.
I heard an unequal and varying echo,
sometimes near and sometimes distant,
sometimes dying away and sometimes
swelling into loudness. It was unlike
any thing I had before heard, but it was
evident that it arose from wind sweeping
through spacious halls and winding passages.
These tokens were incompatible
with the result of the examination I had
made. If my hands were true I was

immured between walls, through which
there was no avenue.

I now exerted my voice, and cried as
loud as my wasted strength would admit.
Its echoes were sent back to me in broken
and confused sounds and from above.
This effort was casual, but some part of
that uncertainty in which I was involved,
was instantly dispelled by it. In passing
through the cavern on the former day,
I have mentioned the verge of the pit at
which I arrived. To acquaint me as far
as was possible, with the dimensions of
the place, I had hallooed with all my
force, knowing that sound is reflected
according to the distance and relative
positions of the substances from which it
is repelled.

The effect produced by my voice on
this occasion resembled, with remarkable
exactness, the effect which was then produced.

Was I then shut up in the same
cavern? Had I reached the brink of the
same precipice and been thrown headlong
into that vacuity? Whence else
could arise the bruises which I had received,
but from my fall? Yet all remembrance
of my journey hither was lost. I
had determined to explore this cave on the
ensuing day, but my memory informed me
not that this intention had been carried
into effect. Still it was only possible to
conclude that I had come hither on my
intended expedition and had been thrown
by another, or had, by some ill chance,
fallen into the pit.

This opinion was conformable to
what I had already observed. The pavement
and walls were rugged like those of
the footing and sides of the cave through
which I had formerly passed.

But if this were true, what was the
abhorred catastrophe to which I was now

reserved? The sides of this pit were inaccessible:
human foot-steps would never
wander into these recesses. My friends
were unapprised of my forlorn state. Here
I should continue till wasted by famine.
In this grave should I linger out a few
days, in unspeakable agonies and then
perish forever.

The inroads of hunger were already
experienced, and this knowledge of the
desperateness of my calamity, urged me
to phrenzy. I had none but capricious
and unseen fate to condemn. The author
of my distress and the means he had
taken to decoy me hither, were incomprehensible.
Surely my senses were
fettered or depraved by some spell. I
was still asleep, and this was merely a
tormenting vision, or madness had seized
me, and the darkness that environed and
the hunger that afflicted me, existed only
in my own distempered imagination.

The consolation of these doubts could
not last long. Every hour added to the
proofs that my perceptions were real. My
hunger speedily became ferocious. I
tore the linen of my shirt between my
teeth and swallowed the fragments. I
felt a strong propensity to bite the flesh
from my arm. My heart overflowed
with cruelty, and I pondered on the
delight I should experience in rending
some living animal to pieces, and drinking
its blood and grinding its quivering
fibers between my teeth.

This agony had already passed beyond
the limits of endurance. I saw that time,
instead of bringing respite or relief,
would only aggravate my wants, and that
my only remaining hope was to die before
I should be assaulted by the last extremes
of famine. I now recollected that a
Tom-hawk was at hand, and rejoiced in
the possession of an instrument by which

I could so effectually terminate my sufferings.

I took it in my hand, moved its edge
over my fingers, and reflected on the
force that was required to make it reach
my heart. I investigated the spot where
it should enter, and strove to fortify
myself with resolution to repeat the
stroke a second or third time, if the first
should prove insufficient. I was sensible
that I might fail to inflict a mortal wound,
but delighted to consider that the blood
which would be made to flow, would
finally release me, and that meanwhile
my pains would be alleviated by swallowing
this blood.

You will not wonder that I felt some
reluctance to employ so fatal though
indispensable a remedy. I once more
ruminated on the possibility of rescuing
myself by other means. I now reflected

that the upper termination of the wall
could not be at an immeasurable distance
from the pavement. I had fallen from
an height, but if that height had been
considerable, instead of being merely
bruised, should I not have been dashed
into pieces?

Gleams of hope burst anew upon my
soul. Was it not possible, I asked, to
reach the top of this pit. The sides were
rugged and uneven. Would not their
projectures and abruptnesses serve me as
steps by which I might ascend in safety.
This expedient was to be tried without
delay. Shortly my strength would fail
and my doom would be irrevocably
sealed.

I will not enumerate my laborious
efforts, my alternations of despondency
and confidence, the eager and unwearied
scrutiny with which I examined
the surface, the attempts which I made,

and the failures which, for a time, succeeded
each other. An hundred times,
when I had ascended some feet from the
bottom, I was compelled to relinquish
my undertaking by the untenable smoothness
of the spaces which remained to be
gone over. An hundred times I threw
myself, exhausted by fatigue and my
pains, on the ground. The consciousness
was gradually restored that till I had attempted
every part of the wall, it was
absurd to despair, and I again drew my
tottering limbs and aching joints to that
part of the wall which had not been surveyed.

At length, as I stretched my hand
upward, I found somewhat that seemed
like a recession in the wall. It was possible
that this was the top of the cavity,
and this might be the avenue to liberty.
My heart leaped with joy, and I proceeded
to climb the wall. No undertaking

could be conceived more arduous
than this. The space between this verge
and the floor was nearly smooth. The
verge was higher from the bottom than
my head. The only means of ascending
that were offered me were by my hands,
with which I could draw myself upward
so as, at length, to maintain my hold
with my feet.

My efforts were indefatigable, and at
length I placed myself on the verge,
when this was accomplished my strength
was nearly gone. Had I not found space
enough beyond this brink to stretch myself
at length, I should unavoidably have
fallen backward into the pit, and all my
pains had served no other end than to
deepen my despair and hasten my destruction.

What impediments and perils remained
to be encountered I could not judge.
I was now inclined to forbode the worst.

The interval of repose which was necessary
to be taken, in order to recruit my
strength, would accelerate the ravages
of famine, and leave me without the
power to proceed.

In this state, I once more consoled
myself that an instrument of death was
at hand. I had drawn up with me the
Tom-hawk, being sensible that should
this impediment be overcome others
might remain that would prove insuperable.
Before I employed it, however, I
cast my eyes wildly and languidly around.
The darkness was no less intense than
in the pit below, and yet two objects
were distinctly seen.

They resembled a fixed and obscure
flame. They were motionless. Though
lustrous themselves they created no illumination
around them. This circumstance,
added to others, which reminded
me of similar objects, noted on former

occasions, immediately explained the
nature of what I beheld. These were
the eyes of a panther.

Thus had I struggled to obtain a
post where a savage was lurking, and
waited only till my efforts should place
me within reach of his fangs. The first
impulse was to arm myself against this
enemy. The desperateness of my condition
was, for a moment, forgotten. The
weapon which was so lately lifted
against my own bosom, was now raised to
defend my life against the assault of
another.

There was no time for deliberation
and delay. In a moment he might spring
from his station and tear me to pieces.
My utmost speed might not enable me
to reach him where he sat, but merely
to encounter his assault. I did not reflect
how far my strength was adequate to

save me. All the force that remained
was mustered up and exerted in a throw.

No one knows the powers that are
latent in his constitution. Called forth
by imminent dangers, our efforts frequently
exceed our most sanguine belief.
Though tottering on the verge of dissolution,
and apparently unable to crawl
rom this spot, a force was exerted in this
throw, probably greater than I had ever
before exerted. It was resistless and
unerring. I aimed at the middle space
between these glowing orbs. It penetrated
the scull and the animal fell, struggling
and shrieking, on the ground.

My ears quickly informed me when
his pangs were at an end. His cries and
his convulsions lasted for a moment and
then ceased. The effect of his voice,
in these subterranean abodes, was unspeakably
rueful.

The abruptness of this incident, and
the preternatural exertion of my strength,
left me in a state of languor and sinking
from which slowly and with difficulty I
recovered. The first suggestion that
occurred was to feed upon the carcass
of this animal. My hunger had arrived
at that pitch where all fastidiousness and
scruples are at an end. I crept to the
spot...I will not shock you by relating
the extremes to which dire necessity had
driven me. I review this scene with
loathing and horror. Now that it is past
I look back upon it as on some hideous
dream. The whole appears to be some
freak of insanity. No alternative was
offered, and hunger was capable to be
appeased, even by a banquet so detestable.

If this appetite has sometimes subdued
the sentiments of nature, and compelled
the mother to feed upon the flesh

of her offspring, it will not excite amazement
that I did not turn from the yet
warm blood and reeking fibres of a brute.

One evil was now removed, only to
give place to another. The first sensations
of fullness had scarcely been felt
when my stomach was seized by pangs
whose acuteness exceeded all that I ever
before experienced. I bitterly lamented
my inordinate avidity. The excruciations
of famine were better than the agonies
which this abhorred meal had produced.
Death was now impending with no less
proximity and certainty, though in a different
form. Death was a sweet relief
for my present miseries, and I vehemently
longed for its arrival. I stretched myself
on the ground. I threw myself
into every posture that promised some
alleviation of this evil. I rolled along
the pavement of the cavern, wholly inattentive

to the dangers that environed
me. That I did not fall into the pit,
whence I had just emerged, must be
ascribed to some miraculous chance.

How long my miseries endured, it is
not possible to tell. I cannot even form
a plausible conjecture. Judging by the
lingering train of my sensations, I should
conjecture that some days elapsed in this
deplorable condition, but nature could
not have so long sustained a conflict like
this.

Gradually my pains subsided and I
fell into a deep sleep. I was visited by
dreams of a thousand hues. They led
me to flowing streams and plenteous banquets,
which, though placed within my
view, some power forbade me to approach.
From this sleep I recovered to the fruition
of solitude and darkness, but my
frame was in a state less feeble than
before. That which I had eaten had

produced tomporary distress, but on the
whole had been of use. If this food
had not been provided for me I should
scarcely have avoided death. I had
reason therefore to congratulate myself
on the danger that had lately occured.

I had acted without foresight, and
yet no wisdom could have prescribed
more salutary measures. The panther
was slain, not from a view to the relief
of my hunger, but from the self-preserving
and involuntary impulse. Had I
fore-known the pangs to which my ravenous
and bloody meal would give birth,
I should have carefully abstained, and
yet these pangs were a useful effort of
nature to subdue and convert to nourishment
the matter I had swallowed.

I was now assailed by the torments
of thirst. My invention and my courage
were anew bent to obviate this pressing
evil. I reflected that there was some

recess from this cavern, even from the
spot where I now stood. Before, I was
doubtful whether in this direction from
this pit any avenue could be found, but
since the panther had come hither there
was reason to suppose the existence of
some such avenue.

I now likewise attended to a sound,
which, from its invariable tenour, denoted
somewhat different from the whistling
of a gale. It seemed like the murmur
of a running stream. I now prepared to
go forward, and endeavoured to move
along in that direction in which this sound
apparently came.

On either side and above my head,
there was nothing but vacuity. My
steps were to be guided by the pavement,
which, though unequal and rugged, appeared,
on the whole, to ascend. My
safety required that I should employ both
hands and feet in exploring my way.

I went on thus for a considerable
period. The murmur, instead of becoming
more distinct, gradually died
away. My progress was arrested by
fatigue, and I began once more to despond.
My exertions, produced a perspiration,
which, while it augmented my
thirst, happily supplied me with imperfect
means of appeasing it.

This expedient would, perhaps, have
been accidentally suggested, but my ingenuity
was assisted by remembering
the history of certain English prisoners
in Bengal, whom their merciless enemy
imprisoned in a small room, and some of
whom preserved themselves alive merely
by swallowing the moisture that flowed
from their bodies. This experiment I
now performed with no less success.

This was slender and transitory consolation.
I knew that, wandering at

random, I might never reach the outlet
of this cavern, or might be disabled, by
hunger and fatigue, from going farther
than the outlet. The cravings which
had lately been satiated, would speedily
return, and my negligence had cut me
off from the resource which had recently
been furnished. I thought not till now
that a second meal might be indispensable.

To return upon my foot-steps to the
spot where the dead animal lay was an
heartless project. I might thus be placing
myself at an hopeless distance from
liberty. Besides my track could not be
retraced. I had frequently deviated
from a straight direction for the sake of
avoiding impediments. All of which I
was sensible was, that I was travelling
up an irregular acclivity. I hoped sometime
to reach the summit, but had no

reason for adhering to one line of ascent
in preference to another.

To remain where I was, was manifestly
absurd. Whether I mounted or
descended, a change of place was most
likely to benefit me. I resolved to vary
my direction, and, instead of ascending,
keep along the side of what I accounted
an hill. I had gone some hundred feet
when the murmur, before described,
once more saluted my ear.

This sound, being imagined to
proceed from a running stream, could
not but light up joy in the heart of one
nearly perishing with thirst. I proceeded
with new courage. The sound approached
no nearer nor became more distinct,
but as long as it died not away, I was
satisfied to listen and to hope.

I was eagerly observant if any the
least glimmering of light, should visit
this recess. At length, on the right

hand a gleam, infinitely faint, caught my
attention. It was wavering and unequal.
I directed my steps towards it. It became
more vivid, and permanent. It
was of that kind, however, which proceeded
from a fire, kindled with dry
sticks, and not from the sun. I now heard
the crackling of flames.

This sound made me pause, or at
least to proceed with circumspection.
At length the scene opened, and I
found myself at the entrance of a cave.
I quickly reached a station when I saw
a fire burning. At first no other object
was noted, but it was easy to infer that the
fire was kindled by men, and that they
who kindled it could be at no great distance.