I could have imagined I was already dead and in another world.
That dark hut, these grotesque dim figures, just flecked here and
there by a glimmer of light, and all of them swaying in unison and
chanting,

"Not to go on all-fours; that is the Law. Are we not Men?
"Not to suck up Drink; that is the Law. Are we not Men?
"Not to eat Fish or Flesh; that is the Law. Are we not Men?
"Not to claw the Bark of Trees; that is the Law. Are we not Men?
"Not to chase other Men; that is the Law. Are we not Men?"

And so from the prohibition of these acts of folly,
on to the prohibition of what I thought then were the maddest,
most impossible, and most indecent things one could well imagine.
A kind of rhythmic fervour fell on all of us; we gabbled
and swayed faster and faster, repeating this amazing Law.
Superficially the contagion of these brutes was upon me, but deep
down within me the laughter and disgust struggled together.
We ran through a long list of prohibitions, and then the chant swung
round to a new formula.

"_His_ is the House of Pain.
"_His_ is the Hand that makes.
"_His_ is the Hand that wounds.
"_His_ is the Hand that heals."

And so on for another long series, mostly quite incomprehensible
gibberish to me about _Him_, whoever he might be. I could have fancied
it was a dream, but never before have I heard chanting in a dream.

"_His_ is the lightning flash," we sang. "_His_ is the deep, salt sea."

A horrible fancy came into my head that Moreau, after animalising
these men, had infected their dwarfed brains with a kind of
deification of himself. However, I was too keenly aware of white
teeth and strong claws about me to stop my chanting on that account.

"_His_ are the stars in the sky."

At last that song ended. I saw the Ape-man's face shining
with perspiration; and my eyes being now accustomed to the darkness,
I saw more distinctly the figure in the corner from which the voice came.
It was the size of a man, but it seemed covered with a dull grey
hair almost like a Skye-terrier. What was it? What were they all?
Imagine yourself surrounded by all the most horrible cripples
and maniacs it is possible to conceive, and you may understand
a little of my feelings with these grotesque caricatures of humanity
about me.

"He is a five-man, a five-man, a five-man--like me," said the Ape-man.

I held out my hands. The grey creature in the corner leant forw