A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder - James De Mille (best english books to read TXT) 📗

what I knew of their character this seemed quite intelligible, and there was much beauty and taste in the arrangements. All were industrious and orderly, and each one seemed most eager to assist his neighbor. Indeed, there seemed to be a friendly rivalry in this which at times amounted to positive violence; for more than once when a man was seen carrying too large a burden, someone else would insist on taking it from him. At first these altercations seemed exactly like the quarrels of workmen at home, but a closer inspection showed that it was merely the persistent effort of one to help another.

I learned that the feast was to take place as soon as the hall was decorated, and that it would be attended by a great multitude. I felt a great interest in it. There seemed something of poetic beauty in this mode of welcoming the advent of a welcome season, and it served to mitigate the horrible remembrance of that other celebration, upon which I could not think without a shudder. I thought that it would be pleasant to join with them here, and resolved to ask Almah to come with me, so that she might explain the meaning of the ceremonies. Full of this thought, I went to her and told her my wish. She looked at me with a face full of amazement and misery. In great surprise I questioned her eagerly.

“Ask me nothing,” said she. “I will answer nothing; but do not think of it. Do not go near it. Stay in your room till the fearful repast is over.”

“Fearful? How is it fearful?” I asked.

“Everything here is fearful,” said Almah, with a sigh. “Every season it grows worse, and I shall grow at length to hate life and love death as these people do. They can never understand us, and we can never understand them. Oh, if I could but once more stand in my own dear native land but for one moment⁠—to see once more the scenes and the faces that I love so well! Oh, how different is this land from mine! Here all is dark, all is terrible. There the people love the light and rejoice in the glorious sun, and when the dark season comes they wait, and have no other desire than long day. There we live under the sky, in the eye of the sun. We build our houses, and when the dark season comes we fill them with lamps that make a blaze like the sun itself.”

“We must try to escape,” I said, in a low voice.

“Escape!” said she. “That is easy enough. We might go now; but where?”

“Back,” said I, “to your own country. See, the sky is dotted with stars: I can find my way by them.”

“Yes,” said she, “if I could only tell you where to go; but I cannot. My country lies somewhere over the sea, but where, I know not. Over the sea there are many lands, and we might reach one even worse than this.”

“Perhaps,” said I, “the Kohen might allow us to go away to your country, and send us there. He is most generous and most amiable. He seems to spend most of his time in efforts to make us happy. There must be many seamen in this nation who know the way. It would be worth trying.”

Almah shook her head. “You do not understand these people,” said she. “Their ruling passion is the hatred of self, and therefore they are eager to confer benefits on others. The only hope of life that I have for you and for myself is in this, that if they kill us they will lose their most agreeable occupation. They value us most highly, because we take everything that is given us. You and I now possess as our own property all this city and all its buildings, and all the people have made themselves our slaves.”

At this I was utterly bewildered.

“I don’t understand,” said I.

“I suppose not,” said Almah; “but you will understand better after you have been here longer. At any rate, you can see for yourself that the ruling passion here is self-denial and the good of others. Everyone is intent upon this, from the Kohen up to the most squalid pauper.”

“Up to the most squalid pauper?” said I. “I do not understand you. You mean down to the most squalid pauper.”

“No,” said Almah; “I mean what I say. In this country the paupers form the most honored and envied class.”

“This is beyond my comprehension,” said I. “But if this is really so, and if these people pretend to be our slaves, why may we not order out a galley and go?”

“Oh, well, with you in your land, if a master were to order his slaves to cut his throat and poison his children and burn his house, would the slaves obey?”

“Certainly not.”

“Well, our slaves here would not⁠—in fact could not⁠—obey a command that would be shocking to their natures. They think that we are in the best of all lands, and my request to be sent home would be utterly monstrous.”

“I suppose,” said I, “they would kill us if we asked them to do so?”

“Yes,” said Almah; “for they think death the greatest blessing.”

“And if at the point of death we should beg for life, would they spare us?”

“Certainly not,” said Almah. “Would you kill a man who asked for death? No more would these people spare a man who asked for life.”

All this was so utterly incomprehensible that I could pursue the subject no further. I saw, however, that Almah was wretched, dejected, and suffering greatly from homesickness. Gladly would I have taken her and started off on a desperate flight by sea or land⁠—gladly would I have dared every peril, although I well knew what tremendous perils there were; but she would not consent, and believed the attempt to be useless. I could only wait, therefore, and indulge the hope that at last a chance