the red one-第5章

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had　fancied　the　Red　One　to　be　some　colossal　statue；　like　Memnon；

rendered　vocal　under　certain　temperature　conditions　of　sunlight。

But　when；　after　a　war　raid；　a　batch　of　prisoners　was　brought　in　and

the　sacrifice　made　at　night；　in　the　midst　of　rain；　when　the　sun

could　play　no　part；　the　Red　One　had　been　more　vocal　than　usual；

Bassett　discarded　that　hypothesis。



In　company　with　Balatta；　sometimes　with　men　and　parties　of　women；

the　freedom　of　the　jungle　was　his　for　three　quadrants　of　the

compass。　　But　the　fourth　quadrant；　which　contained　the　Red　One's

abiding　place；　was　taboo。　　He　made　more　thorough　love　to　Balatta　…

also　saw　to　it　that　she　scrubbed　herself　more　frequently。　　Eternal

female　she　was；　capable　of　any　treason　for　the　sake　of　love。　　And；

though　the　sight　of　her　was　provocative　of　nausea　and　the　contact

of　her　provocative　of　despair；　although　he　could　not　escape　her

awfulness　in　his　dream…haunted　nightmares　of　her；　he　nevertheless

was　aware　of　the　cosmic　verity　of　sex　that　animated　her　and　that

made　her　own　life　of　less　value　than　the　happiness　of　her　lover

with　whom　she　hoped　to　mate。　　Juliet　or　Balatta？　　Where　was　the

intrinsic　difference？　　The　soft　and　tender　product　of　ultra…

civilization；　or　her　bestial　prototype　of　a　hundred　thousand　years

before　her？　…　there　was　no　difference。



Bassett　was　a　scientist　first；　a　humanist　afterward。　　In　the

jungle…heart　of　Guadalcanal　he　put　the　affair　to　the　test；　as　in

the　laboratory　he　would　have　put　to　the　test　any　chemical　reaction。

He　increased　his　feigned　ardour　for　the　bushwoman；　at　the　same　time

increasing　the　imperiousness　of　his　will　of　desire　over　her　to　be

led　to　look　upon　the　Red　One　face　to　face。　　It　was　the　old　story；

he　recognized；　that　the　woman　must　pay；　and　it　occurred　when　the

two　of　them；　one　day；　were　catching　the　unclassified　and　unnamed

little　black　fish；　an　inch　long；　half…eel　and　half…scaled；　rotund

with　salmon…golden　roe；　that　frequented　the　fresh　water；　and　that

were　esteemed；　raw　and　whole；　fresh　or　putrid；　a　perfect　delicacy。

Prone　in　the　muck　of　the　decaying　jungle…floor；　Balatta　threw

herself；　clutching　his　ankles　with　her　hands　kissing　his　feet　and

making　slubbery　noises　that　chilled　his　backbone　up　and　down　again。

She　begged　him　to　kill　her　rather　than　exact　this　ultimate　love…

payment。　　She　told　him　of　the　penalty　of　breaking　the　taboo　of　the

Red　One　…　a　week　of　torture；　living；　the　details　of　which　she

yammered　out　from　her　face　in　the　mire　until　he　realized　that　he

was　yet　a　tyro　in　knowledge　of　the　frightfulness　the　human　was

capable　of　wreaking　on　the　human。



Yet　did　Bassett　insist　on　having　his　man's　will　satisfied；　at　the

woman's　risk；　that　he　might　solve　the　mystery　of　the　Red　One's

singing；　though　she　should　die　long　and　horribly　and　screaming。

And　Balatta；　being　mere　woman；　yielded。　　She　led　him　into　the

forbidden　quadrant。　　An　abrupt　mountain；　shouldering　in　from　the

north　to　meet　a　similar　intrusion　from　the　south；　tormented　the

stream　in　which　they　had　fished　into　a　deep　and　gloomy　gorge。

After　a　mile　along　the　gorge；　the　way　plunged　sharply　upward　until

they　crossed　a　saddle　of　raw　limestone　which　attracted　his

geologist's　eye。　　Still　climbing；　although　he　paused　often　from

sheer　physical　weakness；　they　scaled　forest…clad　heights　until　they

emerged　on　a　naked　mesa　or　tableland。　　Bassett　recognized　the　stuff

of　its　composition　as　black　volcanic　sand；　and　knew　that　a　pocket

magnet　could　have　captured　a　full　load　of　the　sharply　angular

grains　he　trod　upon。



And　then　holding　Balatta　by　the　hand　and　leading　her　onward；　he

came　to　it　…　a　tremendous　pit；　obviously　artificial；　in　the　heart

of　the　plateau。　　Old　history；　the　South　Seas　Sailing　Directions；

scores　of　remembered　data　and　connotations　swift　and　furious；

surged　through　his　brain。　　It　was　Mendana　who　had　discovered　the

islands　and　named　them　Solomon's；　believing　that　he　had　found　that

monarch's　fabled　mines。　　They　had　laughed　at　the　old　navigator's

child…like　credulity；　and　yet　here　stood　himself；　Bassett；　on　the

rim　of　an　excavation　for　all　the　world　like　the　diamond　pits　of

South　Africa。



But　no　diamond　this　that　he　gazed　down　upon。　　Rather　was　it　a

pearl；　with　the　depth　of　iridescence　of　a　pearl；　but　of　a　size　all

pearls　of　earth　and　time；　welded　into　one；　could　not　have　totalled；

and　of　a　colour　undreamed　of　in　any　pearl；　or　of　anything　else；　for

that　matter；　for　it　was　the　colour　of　the　Red　One。　　And　the　Red　One

himself　Bassett　knew　it　to　be　on　the　instant。　　A　perfect　sphere；

full　two　hundred　feet　in　diameter；　the　top　of　it　was　a　hundred　feet

below　the　level　of　the　rim。　　He　likened　the　colour　quality　of　it　to

lacquer。　　Indeed；　he　took　it　to　be　some　sort　of　lacquer；　applied　by

man；　but　a　lacquer　too　marvellously　clever　to　have　been

manufactured　by　the　bush…folk。　　Brighter　than　bright　cherry…red；

its　richness　of　colour　was　as　if　it　were　red　builded　upon　red。　　It

glowed　and　iridesced　in　the　sunlight　as　if　gleaming　up　from

underlay　under　underlay　of　red。



In　vain　Balatta　strove　to　dissuade　him　from　descending。　　She　threw

herself　in　the　dirt；　but；　when　he　continued　down　the　trail　that

spiralled　the　pit…wall；　she　followed；　cringing　and　whimpering　her

terror。　　That　the　red　sphere　had　been　dug　out　as　a　precious　thing；

was　patent。　　Considering　the　paucity　of　members　of　the　federated

twelve　villages　and　their　primitive　tools　and　methods；　Bassett　knew

that　the　toil　of　a　myriad　generations　could　scarcely　have　made　that

enormous　excavation。



He　found　the　pit　bottom　carpeted　with　human　bones；　among　which；

battered　and　defaced；　lay　village　gods　of　wood　and　stone。　　Some；

covered　with　obscene　totemic　figures　and　designs；　were　carved　from

solid　tree　trunks　forty　or　fifty　feet　in　length。　　He　noted　the

absence　of　the　shark　and　turtle　gods；　so　common　among　the　shore

villages；　and　was　amazed　at　the　constant　recurrence　of　the　helmet

motive。　　What　did　these　jungle　savages　of　the　dark　heart　of

Guadalcanal　know　of　helmets？　　Had　Mendana's　men…at…arms　worn

helmets　and　penetrated　here　centuries　before？　　And　if　not；　then

whence　had　the　bush…folk　caught　the　motive？



Advancing　over　the　litter　of　gods　and　bones；　Balatta　whimpering　at

his　heels；　Bassett　entered　the　shadow　of　the　Red　One　and　passed　on

under　its　gigantic　overhang　until　he　touched　it　with　his　finger…

tips。　　No　lacquer　that。　　Nor　was　the　surface　smooth　as　it　should

have　been　in　the　case　of　lacquer。　　On　the　contrary；　it　was

corrugated　and　pitted；　with　here　and　there　patches　that　showed

signs　of　heat　and　fusing。　　Also；　the　substance　of　it　was　metal；

though　unlike　any　metal；　or　combination　of　metals；　he　had　ever

known。　　As　for　the　colour　itself；　he　decided　it　to　be　no

application。　　It　was　the　intrinsic　colour　of　the　metal　itself。



He　moved　his　finger…tips；　which　up　to　that　had　merely　rested；　along

the　surface；　and　felt　the　whole　gigantic　sphere　quicken　and　live

and　respond。　　It　was　incredible！　　So　light　a　touch　on　so　vast　a

mass！　　Yet　did　it　quiver　under　the　finger…tip　caress　in　rhythmic

vibrations　that　became　whisperings　and　rustlings　and　mutterings　of

sound　…　but　of　sound　so　different；　so　elusively　thin　that　it　was

shimmeringly　sibilant；　so　mellow　that　it　was　maddening　sweet；

piping　like　an　elfin　horn；　which　last　was　just　what　Bassett　decided

would　be　like　a　peal　from　some　bell　of　the　gods　reaching　earthward

from　across　space。



He　looked　at　Balatta　with　swift　questioning；　but　the　voice　of　the

Red　One　he　had　evoked　had　flung　her　face　downward　and　moaning　among

the　bones。　　He　returned　to　contemplation　of　the　prodigy。　　Hollow　it

was；　and　of　no　metal　known　on　earth；　was　his　conclusion。　　It　was

right…named　by　the　ones　of　old…time　as　the　Star…Born。　　Only　from

the　stars　could　it　have　come；　and　no　thing　of　chance　was　it。　　It

was　a　creation　of　artifice　and　mind。　　Such　perfection　of　form；　such

hollowness　that　it　certainly　possessed；　could　not　be　the　result　of

mere　fo