THE STRANGE VISITOR
In the afternoon of the ninth day, emerging from the forests, the first sight that met their eyes was the flag floating from the top of Observation Hill. Never before had the flag looked so glorious, and they could not repress a shout and a cheer. The distance home was at least four miles, but tired as they were, no one felt like stopping for a rest.
Everything at the home seemed quiet and peaceful. The cattle were there, lazily scattered about, apparently not knowing or caring whether their masters were absent. The boys were moving along jauntily, happy as larks, singing snatches of songs, and amusing the Professor with sallies of wit and humor.
Angel was just as happy and was enjoying the prospects of coming home. Long before the home was neared he started off on a race, with George at his heels. Burdened as he was, it was impossible to keep up with the animal, so that the latter was at the house long before George came near. He was surprised to see Angel bounding toward him with his peculiar chattering that betokened excitement, and he stopped and hesitated what to do.
Depositing his load on the ground, he ran back, and signaled to the others. Angel came up and tried to tell them in his peculiar way of some danger ahead. Two hundred feet south of the house was a thick growth of underbrush, and to that the party made its way.
Arriving there, a consultation was had, on the course of procedure. Nothing was, apparently, disturbed. No sign of human presence was manifest. The door which opened to the main room, facing the west, was closed, as well as the room of the workshop.
"If anyone is about the premises he must be beyond the house, as it is evident some signs would show in the house or shop. Prepare your guns and let us go forward."
The house was cautiously approached, and reached, and Harry quietly gained the door, and the secret bolt opened. The door was slowly opened and he peered in. It was unoccupied, and all rushed in. A small trap-door on the northern side was now opened, which gave a view toward the shop and cattle-yard.
What they saw there startled them beyond measure, for seated on a log, outside of the cattle-shed, was a man, with a straggling, unkempt beard, vacantly gazing into space.
"How shall we attract his attention?" asked Harry, breathlessly.
"Let us rush out the front door. He is, apparently, alone."
At the signal, with their guns ready, they filed out, and moved toward him. He raised his eyes, and at first was a little startled, but again relaxed, and seemed to take no particular notice of their approach. The Professor walked toward him, and held out his hand. The stranger made no motion or protest, either of fear or recognition, and as the Professor's hand touched him, his hand was involuntarily extended.
"The professor walked toward him and held out his hand"
Not a word was uttered by him. The Professor turned to the boys. "He is demented, or has lost all knowledge of his condition or surroundings. Poor fellow!"
The Professor addressed him. He looked startled at the sound of a human voice, and as the voices continued, began to look inquiringly at one and then at the other. He was a man fully fifty years of age, strong, well built, but somewhat emaciated. His eyes had no luster, the beard was long and shaggy, and aside from the torn and almost unrecognizable trousers, the only article of clothing was an equally dilapidated shirt.
George grasped Harry, excitedly. "Where did he get that shirt? That is the one we used as our first signal flag, and which we lost five months ago." Such was indeed the case. The only thing in its torn and tattered condition, which enabled him to recognize it were the initials of George, which he had noticed.
Thus was one of the mysteries explained. Despite every attempt at conversation, not a word escaped his lips. The Professor took him by the arm, and led him to the house. He entered and looked around not particularly interested, but more in curiosity than otherwise.
"What do you suppose he has been living on, and where has he been staying?"
At the suggestion of the Professor, some food was brought, and placed before him. He gazed at it. A knife and fork were on the table. He reached for them slowly, and when he had grasped both began to eat ravenously. He finished without looking up, and when the last morsel was eaten stared about, and a faint smile appeared, which was the first facial change that had crossed his features since they met him.
He was conducted to a reclining chair, and such articles of clothing as they could find were brought out and laid before him. He gazed on them, and slowly picked up one after the other. His feet were bare, and appeared to have been scratched and torn, but they were hardened by contact with the earth. An old pair of shoes, the ones discarded by the Professor, when they turned out the first lot of shoes, was set before him.
He picked them up and mechanically put them on. "Now let us leave him alone for a while." They went out, closing the door, and Harry stole around to the small port which he had opened, and watched the stranger.
His demeanor did not change after they left; he simply glanced about the room. When his eyes fell on the table, he arose and cautiously approached, and suddenly seized the table knife, with just a slight change of countenance. This he attempted to secrete beneath his ragged shirt.
"Do you think he is dangerous?"
"His malady is a peculiar one, and arises from various causes. I do not think we need fear him."
"But see how he took that knife."
"That was simply an instinct; that of self-protection. Any other implement would have been as acceptable as a knife. Possibly, the sight of the knife, temporarily, may have brought back some glimmering remembrance of his sane moments."
"Do you think he is insane?"
"No; it does not appear to be of such a character. He seems to exhibit loss of memory. Imbecility, idiocy, and lunacy exhibit marked tendencies, and have been made the careful study of many eminent men, and it is even now one of the disorders least understood by the medical fraternity."
"What is a lunatic?"
"Blackstone, the great English authority on law, defines it as 'one that hath had understanding, but by grief, disease, or other accident hath lost the use of his reason.' This eminent authority also stated that lunatics may have frequent lucid intervals, and might enjoy the use of their senses during certain periods of the moon. It is from that source we are indebted to the still prevailing idea of the moon's influence on the human mind. That view was exploded long ago, and shown to have no foundation."
"What is the difference between a lunatic and an insane person?"
"The original term was lunatic, in accordance with Blackstone's definition; but in medical science the terms insanity and mental alienation have taken its place."
"Doesn't he act peculiarly? He does not seem to know we are present. What I cannot understand is, how he knows enough to get anything to eat."
"That is a peculiar thing in nature. Here is a man who has, outwardly, the appearance of an intelligent being, incapable of talking, or uttering intelligible sounds, with memory so submerged that he doesn't, likely, recognize his own kind, and yet has been able to find food for at least five months, to our knowledge. It shows that, irrespective of mind, nature has implanted some kind of an instinct of preservation in living beings. The subject is one that has been discussed from many standpoints, and it can never be exhausted."
The boys now went over the entire premises, carefully examining every part. Evidences were plenty to show that the man had slept in the shed adjoining the stable, and the shells of nuts as well as barley heads were found around the place he had slept.
There was everything to indicate that his trials and sufferings on the island had deranged him. Probably his was a case like many instances known, where consciousness of self—the absolute loss of memory, had caused disappearances, and many instances have been recorded where intelligence finally asserted itself and brought back former recollections.
The instinct to clothe himself was shown when they returned. The Professor went up to him kindly and spoke. The words were repeated in German and French, but not one word did he utter, nor did he give the least visible sign of recognition.
During the afternoon he wandered around from place to place. The boys were too much fascinated to turn their attention to anything. George started out for a trip to Observation Hill, accompanied, as usual, by Angel. The strange man was passed on the way. Without a sign he followed. George was a little frightened, but soon recovered, as he walked along unconcernedly.
They crawled up the steep ascent, instead of going around the gentler ascent, and when the pole was reached, the stranger for the first time took any interest in anything he saw. He looked up at the flag, and then out over the sea, and as he did so, he put up his hand to shade his eyes from the glare of the sun. This was the only human thing which was noticed about him.
When George left, he followed, walking erect, and he could not help admiring his strong, although drawn, features, and the admirable build of his frame. He would be an antagonist to fear as an enemy.
On the return, George stated the occurrence, and the Professor said that the man was no doubt used to the sea, as his walk betrayed that, and the incident of shading his eyes is a common one to all seafaring men.
But now came up the great question of the future course to be followed. What should be done? The determination to again attempt further explorations was fixed in the minds of all; but how should it be conducted? Should they again brave the dangers of the sea, or make the next trip by land?
The only means available by sea would be the partially damaged boat, which was seventy-five miles away, and plans were considered either to bring it to the Cataract by boat, or to repair it where it lay; either course had its disadvantages.
One day the stranger wandered over to the workshop where Harry was engaged. He had never been inquisitive, as nothing seemed to interest or appeal to him. When he saw the machinery, the lathe, and, finally, the electric battery, he stood still and gazed. Slowly he made his way to the battery which had the terminal wires lying loose. He picked them up, and brought the ends together, and the spark seemed to fascinate him. The experiment was repeated several times, but the wires were soon dropped, and he resumed his usual demeanor.
Harry ran over to the laboratory, and informed the Professor, who came at once, and arrived just as he was dropping the wires.
"The best thing for him is something to do. In this way, the association with tools, if he has any knowledge of them, may awaken some recollections of his past. I have watched him for the past three days and I am sure he is not deranged, in the sense of being demented. Let us try what employment will do."
Harry was engaged in dressing a board with a plane when the man came in. The Professor led him to the bench and placed a plane in his hand, and by making a motion with his hand and pushing the man's hand along with the plane, he took notice of the motion and mechanically drew the plane back and forth.
He not only planed the board, but he followed up the roughened parts and finished the job in a workmanlike manner. The saw was placed in his hands, and he handled this with a facility that surprised both of them. He did not look like a mechanic, but on the other hand had every appearance of a literary man, but he was, unquestionably, used to tools.
After considering the all-important question of the exploring expedition, which subject was an ever present one, it was agreed that the wisest course would be a trip by land. They now knew the location of the inhabitants of the island, and with proper equipment, they ought to be able properly to defend themselves. Another element which might prove of value to them was the new acquisition in the man who had come so unaccountably to their home.
One of the first things necessary was to give him some name by which he could be known, and which he would in time recognize. This was debated over and over, without coming to any conclusion. Eventually, in the absence of anything better, it was decided to call him simply John.
When Harry went to the shop where he was at work, he addressed him as John; and at the uttering of the word started, as though he had been alarmed. Harry noticed it, and repeated the name several times, with the same result, and he hastened to inform the Professor of this experience. The Professor went down without delay, and it was evident from the actions of the man that he recalled something familiar in the name, as in every instance he would put his hands to his head and give an inquiring look.
"It is my impression that John is his name, as he would be more likely to remember that than anything else connected with his life. Let us keep him occupied, and his work may also be the means of bringing back familiar things."
The boys, in company with John, set about preparing a good bed for the newcomer, and he took a part in it most heartily, and seemed to understand when the Professor pointed to him and the bed that it was intended for him.
The interest was more intense when he was taken to the boathouse, which Harry had opened, and when he saw the boats, his eyes opened wide and grew brighter, but they suddenly lost their color and he relapsed into his former state.
It was truly pitiful to watch him, and when in the evening they sat together and conversed, they felt that at times he must have gotten some glimpses of his individuality.
In the morning when George went out to the cattle pens to milk, he mechanically grasped a pail and followed, and the milking operation seemed to be a familiar one to him. Thus, he was a mystery, for the reason that he seemed to be at home in every direction where it called for any special activity. This was made the more mystifying when, during the next day, he wandered over to the laboratory, and his eyes caught sight of the skulls and the skeletons which were on exhibition.
He walked over to the skulls, and picking up one poised it on his hand, slowly turning it around, as though trying to discover what it meant. The one selected had one side partially crushed, and this attracted his attention. He placed the fingers of the other hand in the shattered part, and seemed to realize that some agency must have caused it. The whole deportment while examining it was that of one who was called upon to make an examination of it for the purpose of determining the cause of the injury.
When he laid it down, he looked at the Professor, who quietly took up the skull and pointed to the fracture, endeavoring by his conversation to strike a word or keynote by which some recollection would be started; but he was mute and soon again became listless.