had taken up my binoculars while we talked and was
looking at the shore, sweeping the limit of the forest at each side and
at the back of the house. The consciousness of there being people in
that bush, so silent, so quiet--as silent and quiet as the ruined house
on the hill--made me uneasy. There was no sign on the face of nature
of this amazing tale that was not so much told as suggested to me in
desolate exclamations, completed by shrugs, in interrupted phrases, in
hints ending in deep sighs. The woods were unmoved, like a mask--heavy,
like the closed door of a prison--they looked with their air of hidden
knowledge, of patient expectation, of unapproachable silence. The
Russian was explaining to me that it was only lately that Mr. Kurtz had
come down to the river, bringing along with him all the fighting men of
that lake tribe. He had been absent for several months--getting himself
adored, I suppose--and had come down unexpectedly, with the intention to
all appearance of making a raid either across the river or down stream.
Evidently the appetite for more ivory had got the better of the--what
shall I say?--less material aspirations. However he had got much worse
suddenly. 'I heard he was lying helpless, and so I came up--took my
chance,' said the Russian. 'Oh, he is bad, very bad.' I directed my
glass to the house. There were no signs of life, but there was the
ruined roof, the long mud wall peeping above the grass, with three
little square window-holes, no two of the same size; all this brought
within reach of my hand, as it were. And then I made a brusque movement,
and one of the remaining posts of that vanished fence leaped up in the
field of my glass. You remember I told you I had been struck at the
distance by certain attempts at ornamentation, rather remarkable in the
ruinous aspect of the place. Now I had suddenly a nearer view, and its
first result was to make me throw my head back as if before a blow. Then
I went carefully from post to post with my glass, and I saw my mistake.
These round knobs were not ornamental but symbolic; they were expressive
and puzzling, striking and disturbing--food for thought and also for
the vultures if there had been any looking down from the sky; but at all
events for such ants as were industrious enough to ascend the pole.
They would have been even more impressive, those heads on the stakes, if
their faces had not been turned to the house. Only one, the first I had
made out, was