"From the contents of the knapsack it was evident that this man hadbeen an artist and poet in search of effects. There were scraps ofverse. I do not profess to be a judge of such things, but theyappeared to me to be singularly wanting in merit. There were also somerather commonplace pictures of river scenery, a paint-box, a box ofcolored chalks, some brushes, that curved bone which lies upon myinkstand, a volume of Baxter's 'Moths and Butterflies,' a cheaprevolver, and a few cartridges. Of personal equipment he either hadnone or he had lost it in his journey. Such were the total effects ofthis strange American Bohemian.
"I was turning away from him when I observed that something projectedfrom the front of his ragged jacket. It was this sketch-book, whichwas as dilapidated then as you see it now. Indeed, I can assure youthat a first folio of Shakespeare could not be treated with greaterreverence than this relic has been since it came into my possession. Ihand it to you now, and I ask you to take it page by page and toexamine the contents."
He helped himself to a cigar and leaned back with a fiercely criticalpair of eyes, taking note of the effect which this document wouldproduce.
I had opened the volume with some expectation of a revelation, thoughof what nature I could not imagine. The first page was disappointing,however, as it contained nothing but the picture of a very fat man in apea-jacket, with the legend, "Jimmy Colver on the Mail-boat," writtenbeneath it. There followed several pages which were filled with smallsketches of Indians and their ways. Then came a picture of a cheerfuland corpulent ecclesiastic in a shovel hat, sitting opposite a verythin European, and the inscription: "Lunch with Fra Cristofero atRosario." Studies of women and babies accounted for several morepages, and then there was an unbroken series of animal drawings withsuch explanations as "Manatee upon Sandbank," "Turtles and Their Eggs,""Black Ajouti under a Miriti Palm"--the matter disclosing some sort ofpig-like animal; and finally came a double page of studies oflong-snouted and very unpleasant saurians. I could make nothing of it,and said so to the Professor.
"Surely these are only crocodiles?"
"Alligators! Alligators! There is hardly such a thing as a truecrocodile in South America. The distinction between them----"
"I meant that I could see nothing unusual--nothing to justify what youhave said."
He smiled serenely.
"Try the next page," said he.
I was still unable to sympathize. It was a full-page sketch of alandscape roughly tinted in color--the kind of painting which anopen-air artist takes as a guide to a future more elaborate effort.There was a pale-green foreground of feathery vegetation, which slopedupwards and ended in a line of cliffs dark red in color, and curiouslyribbed like some basaltic formations which I have seen. They extendedin an unbroken wall right across the background. At one point was anisolated pyramidal rock, crowned by a great tree, which appeared to beseparated by a cleft from the main crag. Behind it all, a bluetropical sky. A thin green line of vegetation fringed the summit ofthe ruddy cliff.
"Well?" he asked.
"It is no doubt a curious formation," said I "but I am not geologistenough to say that it is wonderful."
"Wonderful!" he repeated. "It is unique. It is incredible. No one onearth has ever dreamed of such a possibility. Now the next."
I turned it over, and gave an exclamation of surprise. There was afull-page picture of the most extraordinary creature that I had everseen. It was the wild dream of an opium smoker, a vision of delirium.The head was like that of a fowl, the body that of a bloated lizard,the trailing tail was furnished with upward-turned spikes, and thecurved back was edged with a high serrated fringe, which looked like adozen cocks' wattles placed behind each other. In front of thiscreature was an absurd mannikin, or dwarf, in human form, who stoodstaring at it.
"Well, what do you think of that?" cried the Professor, rubbing hishands with an air of triumph.
"It is monstrous--grotesque."
"But what made him draw such an animal?"
"Trade gin, I should think."
"Oh, that's the best explanation you can give, is it?"
"Well, sir, what is yours?"
"The obvious one that the creature exists. That is actually sketchedfrom the life."
I should have laughed only that I had a vision of our doing anotherCatharine-wheel down the passage.
"No doubt," said I, "no doubt," as one humors an imbecile. "I confess,however," I added, "that this tiny human figure puzzles me. If it werean Indian we could set it down as evidence of some pigmy race inAmerica, but it appears to be a European in a sun-hat."
The Professor snorted like an angry buffalo. "You really touch thelimit," said he. "You enlarge my view of the possible. Cerebralparesis! Mental inertia! Wonderful!"
He was too absurd to make me angry. Indeed, it was a waste of energy,for if you were going to be angry with this man you would be angry allthe time. I contented myself with smiling wearily. "It struck me thatthe man was small," said I.
"Look here!" he cried, leaning forward and dabbing a great hairysausage of a finger on to the picture. "You see that plant behind theanimal; I suppose you thought it was a dandelion or a Brusselssprout--what? Well, it is a vegetable ivory palm, and they run toabout fifty or sixty feet. Don't you see that the man is put in for apurpose? He couldn't really have stood in front of that brute andlived to draw it. He sketched himself in to give a scale of heights.He was, we will say, over five feet high. The tree is ten timesbigger, which is what one would expect."
"Good heavens!" I cried. "Then you think the beast was---- Why,Charing Cross station would hardly make a kennel for such a brute!"
"Apart from exaggeration, he is certainly a well-grown specimen," saidthe Professor, complacently.
"But," I cried, "surely the whole experience of the human race is notto be set aside on account of a single sketch"--I had turned over theleaves and ascertained that there was nothing more in the book--"asingle sketch by a wandering American artist who may have done it underhashish, or in the delirium of fever, or simply in order to gratify afreakish imagination. You can't, as a man of science, defend such aposition as that."
For answer the Professor took a book down from a shelf.