The　Red　One；　and　Others
  by　Jack　London
  Contents：
  The　Red　One
  The　Hussy
  Like　Argus　of　the　Ancient　Times
  The　Princess
  STORY：　　THE　RED　ONE
  THERE　it　was！　　The　abrupt　liberation　of　sound！　　As　he　timed　it　with
  his　watch；　Bassett　likened　it　to　the　trump　of　an　archangel。　　Walls
  of　cities；　he　meditated；　might　well　fall　down　before　so　vast　and
  compelling　a　summons。　　For　the　thousandth　time　vainly　he　tried　to
  analyse　the　tone…quality　of　that　enormous　peal　that　dominated　the
  land　far　into　the　strong…holds　of　the　surrounding　tribes。　　The
  mountain　gorge　which　was　its　source　rang　to　the　rising　tide　of　it
  until　it　brimmed　over　and　flooded　earth　and　sky　and　air。　　With　the
  wantonness　of　a　sick　man's　fancy；　he　likened　it　to　the　mighty　cry
  of　some　Titan　of　the　Elder　World　vexed　with　misery　or　wrath。
  Higher　and　higher　it　arose；　challenging　and　demanding　in　such
  profounds　of　volume　that　it　seemed　intended　for　ears　beyond　the
  narrow　confines　of　the　solar　system。　　There　was　in　it；　too；　the
  clamour　of　protest　in　that　there　were　no　ears　to　hear　and
  comprehend　its　utterance。
  …　Such　the　sick　man's　fancy。　　Still　he　strove　to　analyse　the　sound。
  Sonorous　as　thunder　was　it；　mellow　as　a　golden　bell；　thin　and　sweet
  as　a　thrummed　taut　cord　of　silver　…　no；　it　was　none　of　these；　nor　a
  blend　of　these。　　There　were　no　words　nor　semblances　in　his
  vocabulary　and　experience　with　which　to　describe　the　totality　of
  that　sound。
  Time　passed。　　Minutes　merged　into　quarters　of　hours；　and　quarters
  of　hours　into　half…hours；　and　still　the　sound　persisted；　ever
  changing　from　its　initial　vocal　impulse　yet　never　receiving　fresh
  impulse　…　fading；　dimming；　dying　as　enormously　as　it　had　sprung
  into　being。　　It　became　a　confusion　of　troubled　mutterings　and
  babblings　and　colossal　whisperings。　　Slowly　it　withdrew；　sob　by
  sob；　into　whatever　great　bosom　had　birthed　it；　until　it　whimpered
  deadly　whispers　of　wrath　and　as　equally　seductive　whispers　of
  delight；　striving　still　to　be　heard；　to　convey　some　cosmic　secret；
  some　understanding　of　infinite　import　and　value。　　It　dwindled　to　a
  ghost　of　sound　that　had　lost　its　menace　and　promise；　and　became　a
  thing　that　pulsed　on　in　the　sick　man's　consciousness　for　minutes
  after　it　had　ceased。　　When　he　could　hear　it　no　longer；　Bassett
  glanced　at　his　watch。　　An　hour　had　elapsed　ere　that　archangel's
  trump　had　subsided　into　tonal　nothingness。
  Was　this；　then；　HIS　dark　tower？　…　Bassett　pondered；　remembering　his
  Browning　and　gazing　at　his　skeleton…like　and　fever…wasted　hands。
  And　the　fancy　made　him　smile　…　of　Childe　Roland　bearing　a　slug…horn
  to　his　lips　with　an　arm　as　feeble　as　his　was。　　Was　it　months；　or
  years；　he　asked　himself；　since　he　first　heard　that　mysterious　call
  on　the　beach　at　Ringmanu？　　To　save　himself　he　could　not　tell。　　The
  long　sickness　had　been　most　long。　　In　conscious　count　of　time　he
  knew　of　months；　many　of　them；　but　he　had　no　way　of　estimating　the
  long　intervals　of　delirium　and　stupor。　　And　how　fared　Captain
  Bateman　of　the　blackbirder　NARI？　he　wondered；　and　had　Captain
  Bateman's　drunken　mate　died　of　delirium　tremens　yet？
  From　which　vain　speculations；　Bassett　turned　idly　to　review　all
  that　had　occurred　since　that　day　on　the　beach　of　Ringmanu　when　he
  first　heard　the　sound　and　plunged　into　the　jungle　after　it。　　Sagawa
  had　protested。　　He　could　see　him　yet；　his　queer　little　monkeyish
  face　eloquent　with　fear；　his　back　burdened　with　specimen　cases；　in
  his　hands　Bassett's　butterfly　net　and　naturalist's　shot…gun；　as　he
  quavered；　in　Beche…de…mer　English：　　〃Me　fella　too　much　fright　along
  bush。　　Bad　fella　boy；　too　much　stop'm　along　bush。〃
  Bassett　smiled　sadly　at　the　recollection。　　The　little　New　Hanover
  boy　had　been　frightened；　but　had　proved　faithful；　following　him
  without　hesitancy　into　the　bush　in　the　quest　after　the　source　of
  the　wonderful　sound。　　No　fire…hollowed　tree…trunk；　that；　throbbing
  war　through　the　jungle　depths；　had　been　Bassett's　conclusion。
  Erroneous　had　been　his　next　conclusion；　namely；　that　the　source　or
  cause　could　not　be　more　distant　than　an　hour's　walk；　and　that　he
  would　easily　be　back　by　mid…afternoon　to　be　picked　up　by　the　NARI'S
  whale…boat。
  〃That　big　fella　noise　no　good；　all　the　same　devil…devil；〃　Sagawa
  had　adjudged。　　And　Sagawa　had　been　right。　　Had　he　not　had　his　head
  hacked　off　within　the　day？　　Bassett　shuddered。　　Without　doubt
  Sagawa　had　been　eaten　as　well　by　the　〃bad　fella　boys　too　much〃　that
  stopped　along　the　bush。　　He　could　see　him；　as　he　had　last　seen　him；
  stripped　of　the　shot…gun　and　all　the　naturalist's　gear　of　his
  master；　lying　on　the　narrow　trail　where　he　had　been　decapitated
  barely　the　moment　before。　　Yes；　within　a　minute　the　thing　had
  happened。　　Within　a　minute；　looking　back；　Bassett　had　seen　him
  trudging　patiently　along　under　his　burdens。　　Then　Bassett's　own
  trouble　had　come　upon　him。　　He　looked　at　the　cruelly　healed　stumps
  of　the　first　and　second　fingers　of　his　left　hand；　then　rubbed　them
  softly　into　the　indentation　in　the　back　of　his　skull。　　Quick　as　had
  been　the　flash　of　the　long　handled　tomahawk；　he　had　been　quick
  enough　to　duck　away　his　head　and　partially　to　deflect　the　stroke
  with　his　up…flung　hand。　　Two　fingers　and　a　hasty　scalp…wound　had
  been　the　price　he　paid　for　his　life。　　With　one　barrel　of　his　ten…
  gauge　shot…gun　he　had　blown　the　life　out　of　the　bushman　who　had　so
  nearly　got　him；　with　the　other　barrel　he　had　peppered　the　bushmen
  bending　over　Sagawa；　and　had　the　pleasure　of　knowing　that　the　major
  portion　of　the　charge　had　gone　into　the　one　who　leaped　away　with
  Sagawa's　head。　　Everything　had　occurred　in　a　flash。　　Only　himself；
  the　slain　bushman；　and　what　remained　of　Sagawa；　were　in　the　narrow；
  wild…pig　run　of　a　path。　　From　the　dark　jungle　on　either　side　came
  no　rustle　of　movement　or　sound　of　life。　　And　he　had　suffered
  distinct　and　dreadful　shock。　　For　the　first　time　in　his　life　he　had
  killed　a　human　being；　and　he　knew　nausea　as　he　contemplated　the
  mess　of　his　handiwork。
  Then　had　begun　the　chase。　　He　retreated　up　the　pig…run　before　his
  hunters；　who　were　between　him　and　the　beach。　　How　many　there　were；
  he　could　not　guess。　　There　might　have　been　one；　or　a　hundred；　for
  aught　he　saw　of　them。　　That　some　of　them　took　to　the　trees　and
  travelled　along　through　the　jungle　roof　he　was　certain；　but　at　the
  most　he　never　glimpsed　more　than　an　occasional　flitting　of　shadows。
  No　bow…strings　twanged　that　he　could　hear；　but　every　little　while；
  whence　discharged　he　knew　not；　tiny　arrows　whispered　past　him　or
  struck　tree…boles　and　fluttered　to　the　ground　beside　him。　　They
  were　bone…tipped　and　feather　shafted；　and　the　feathers；　torn　from
  the　breasts　of　humming…birds；　iridesced　like　jewels。
  Once　…　and　now；　after　the　long　lapse　of　time；　he　chuckled　gleefully
  at　the　recollection　…　he　had　detected　a　shadow　above　him　that　came
  to　instant　rest　as　he　turned　his　gaze　upward。　　He　could　make　out
  nothing；　but；　deciding　to　chance　it；　had　fired　at　it　a　heavy　charge
  of　number　five　shot。　　Squalling　like　an　infuriated　cat；　the　shadow
  crashed　down　through　tree…ferns　and　orchids　and　thudded　upon　the
  earth　at　his　feet；　and；　still　squalling　its　rage　and　pain；　had　sunk
  its　human　teeth　into　the　ankle　of　his　stout　tramping　boot。　　He；　on
  the　other　hand；　was　not　idle；　and　with　his　free　foot　had　done　what
  reduced　the　squalling　to　silence。　　So　inured　to　savagery　has
  Bassett　since　become；　that　he　chuckled　again　with　the　glee　of　the
  recollection。
  What　a　night　had　followed！　　Small　wonder　that　he　had　accumulated
  such　a　virulence　and　variety　of　fevers；　he　thought；　as　he　recalled
  that　sleepless　night　of　torment；　when　the　throb　of　his　wounds　was
  as　nothing　compared　with　the　myriad　stings　of　the　mosquitoes。
  There　had　been　no　escaping　them；　and　he　had　not　dared　to　light　a
  fire。　　They　had　literally　pumped　his　body　full　of　poison；　so　that；
  with　the　coming　of　day；　eyes　swollen　almost　shut；　he　had　stumbled
  blindly　on；　not　caring　much　when　his　head　should　be　hacked　off　and
  his　carcass　started　on　the　way　of　Sagawa's　to　the　cooking　fire。
  Twenty…four　hours　had　made　a　wreck　of　him　…　of　mind　as　well　as
  body。　　He　had　scarcely　retained　his　wits　at　all；　so　maddened　was　he
  by　the　tremendous　inoculation　of　poison　he　had　received。　　Several
  times　he　fired　his　shot…gun　with　effect　into　the　shadows　that
  dogged　him。　　Stinging　day　insects　and　gnats　added　to　his　torment；
  while　his　bloody　wounds　attracted　hosts　of　loathsome　flies　that
  clung　sluggishly　to　his　flesh　and　had　to　be　brushed　off　and　crushed
  off。
  Once；　in　that　day；　he　heard　again　the　wonderful　sound；　seemingly
  more　distant；　but　rising　imperiously　above　the　nearer　war…drums　in
  the　bush。　　Right　there　was　where　he　had　made　his　mistake。　　Thinking
  that　he　had　passed　beyond　it　and　that；　therefore；　it　was　between
  him　and　the　beach　of　Ringmanu；　he　had　worked　back　toward　it　when　in
  reality　he　was　penetrating　deepe