No man knows what he does or thinks (unless he can keep himself separate from the thoughts of all around him, which requires a wonderful nature) when his legs go along with the legs of other men, and he has to swing his arms accordingly. There was no sort of march among us; for we had never been even of the Volunteer Force (except myself, and that only made me critical, without any help in it), and if we had wanted to show the Caucasus any sense of drill, we could never have done it, even if we had known how. By order of the rocky way, or of rocks without any way among them, we could never march two abreast, or even three in file with decency. All we could do was to get along, and admire one another's clumsiness.
Then we came to a place with a sudden gap in front, and nothing but the sky beyond it. A cleft in the crown of a rugged ascent, with spires of black rocks right and left. And there on the saddle-ridge that we must pass, a gaunt and wondrous figure arose, whether of man or of beast, and wavered against the grey mist of the distance, and swayed. Two long arms, like a gallows out of gear, or a cross that has rotted with its weight, struck up; and having been severely tried already we were much at a loss what to make of it. There was good light still, and we were not to be frightened, as we must have been after sunset; but the Interpreter being always nervous turned round, and exclaimed: "She has sent the Devil, the Devil himself, to stop us." While he spoke the long figure fell down on its knees, and swung its lank arms, like a windmill.
"Hold hard! Don't fire!" Strogue shouted sternly, as some of our men had brought their guns to bear. "Idiots, it is nothing but a poor lost man, a fellow without a bit of food inside him. George, let us go and see what he is up to."
I was ready to go anywhere and do anything in my present state of mind; and when we came up to him, our poor brother mortal fell upon his face, and put his hands upon our feet. He muttered some words which we could not understand, and then he opened his mouth, which was very large, and pointed down it intelligibly to the slowest comprehension.
"He may be the Devil, but he wants some grub," Strogue shouted back to our company, who were still looking towards us doubtfully, for people become superstitious, without intending it, in these wild places. Then Cator came up, with a barley-cake in one hand and his rifle in the other. The unfortunate starver took no heed of the weapon in his extremity, but stretched his shrivelled arm across the muzzle, and tore the cake from Cator. In a moment it was gone, almost without a munch; and then he stared at us, with sun-scorched eyes projecting from their peel like a boiled potato,—and groaned for more, crooking his fingers like prongs of a rake. We shrank from him so that he might not touch us. But for the blood he was covered with we should have taken him for a skeleton; and but for his groans and nakedness we should have passed him as a scarecrow.
"Don't be in such a hurry, old chap, or you'll do yourself more harm than good," Strogue suggested reasonably. But even if the other had understood, it would have made no difference. He spread his face out in such a manner that there was nothing left but mouth; as a young cuckoo in a sparrow's nest, when his stepmother cannot satisfy him, squattles his empty body down, and distends himself into one enormous gape. Then Tommy Williams came up laughing, with his hat full of broken victuals; and the Captain, who understood the subject, said: "Not too fast, or he'll fall to pieces. And pour down a little whiskey to soften it."
When the poor fellow came round a little—and flat enough he had been before—to our surprise he proved himself an exceedingly brave and well-intentioned man. In fact, if he had been otherwise we should never have found him there. A barbarian he appeared at first, but that was appearance only, and under the stress of misfortune, although he belonged to a race which is the most barbarous of the Caucasus. When through our nervous interpreter we began to understand him, we soon perceived that it was our good luck as well as his own, which had brought him to us. And much as at first we grudged the time expended in this humanity, we soon came to see that it had been well spent, even for our own purposes. After such a fast, and then such feasting (prolonged in even more than due redress), it would have been most unfair to expect many words from him prematurely. We clothed him a little, for he was stark naked,—and so hairy a person I never beheld,—and then we cut the tight cord knotted round his waist, from which even famine had not freed him; and then we made a litter—for he could not walk—and carried him to our night-quarters. Luckily there was no foe in search of us, or that miserable sufferer's groans and snores must have told our whereabout to every echo. He surprised us again by an eager call for supper, but none would we give him, until he had splashed for a quarter of an hour in the glacier stream. Then we fed him again, and clothed him fairly, and a decent and reputable man he looked, though going down the vale of years. And his tale was interpreted as follows.