The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 368: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

a e —. » e THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. and rest himself for the night: for theugh he could endowed with a venom as deadly as the cobras snemselves ; but instead of lurking in the grass, they delighted in infesting old buildings and drag- ging their slimy coils over granite or marble. There was something appallingly horrible in the spectacle of those serpents thus playing about the motionless image ; and the Burker, so sqon as he could in any way recover from the consternation into which the sight had thrown him, rushed forth from amidst the ruins of that temple. His ears as he thus beget a precipitate getreat were saluted with such a commingling of horrible hissings, that he fencied the whole reptile population of the temple must be swarming out in pursuit of him: so that again did his blood curdle in his veine—again did an ice-chill appear to smite his heart~and again did the very flesh creep upon his bones. - Bitterly did he now repent having left his cavern. Better — far better were it for him to have re- mained there, even though it were to encounter the peril of the Stranglers’ deadly noose, than to wander thys forth amidet scenes where if he only lay down to rest, it was in the midet of a swarm of venomous reptiles. No thought had the wretch of thanking heaven for having preserved him from the hideous danger which for two hours he had uneonsciously incurred: but he. gave vent to ter rific imprecations against his folly for having uitted the cave. To return thither was impos- sible: he had not studied to preserve the recollec- tion of any landmarks to guide him back to it; and be could no more from memory retrace his way than he could spontaneously discover an issue from the jungle. et where was he to eleep at night # Not upon the grass—not under a tree—not up in the branches of a tree iteelf—not by the side of a river—not amidet any ruins on which he might stumble! There was death everywhere in that frightful place !—death looked oat upon him from every thicket—from every tree—from every brake ~—from every stone. Surely, surely it was hell upon earth? To die by hisown hand? Yes !— but how? He had no weapon, Ah! strangula- tion ? He might suspend himself to a tree ? No! —for he dared not even approach a tree for that purpose. The wretch mast live: he felt that he must live on until he should become a prey to the ' tiger, the snake, or the venomous serpent ! , He pursued his way, dragging himeelf slowly along—his only hope being that the jungle must have an end somewhere or another, and that pve- sibly—yes, by the barest poesibility—he might escape the myriad perils of that wilderness and find himself safo at last. Oh, what a faint hope! —and yet it was the only one to which the wretch could possibly cling. He endeavoured to sustain himself therewith as he puraued his way: but his progress was exceedingly slow; for even when evening approached, the heat continued to be most oppressive. The sun was setting when the Burker reached @ large barren apace of two or three acres in ex- . tent, and which presented the singular aspect of a perfect desert in the midst of all the surrounding wild, rank, and luxuriant verdure. How thia utter desviation on that spot could pussibly be, the maa suspected not: but i¢ no doubt aruse frum some volcanic action, which geologists could satisfactorily evpiain. Here the Barker resolved to lie down Sd 857 scarcely deem himself secure fron: roaming wild beasts, yet he at least fancied he was safe ggaiust the insidious attacks of reptiles ;—-and surrounded by so many frightful perils as he was, it naturally appeared & consolation to have even a portion of them for the time mitigated or set at rest. The dusk closed in around him—or rather, we should say, as much of dusk as there was in that clime ahd at that season of the year; and the Burker slept. How long he had slambered he knew not: but he was awakened by the moss frightful din. The whole jungle seemed alive with horrible noises, —the howls, the cries, and the yells of wild beasts all mingling in one appalling and stupendous chorus. The wretched man started up with his hair standing on end, bis frame quiver- ing violently, and his heart palpitating with such force that it seemed as if it must baret. He listened in awful consternation: he could catch the sounds of objects rushing amongst the underwood and the long rank grass which bounded the desert place that he had chosen for hie home daring the night. It eseemed as if death in some frightful shape must every minute overtake him ; and imagi- nation can conceive nothing more horrible than the din by which he was environed. For al! the living things in that jungle to be thus disporting, gambolling, quarrelling, or fighting, was something more than the human brain could endure. He felt as if he were going mad: a terrible bewil- derment seized upon him—he rushed hither and thither—until at length he sank down completely exhausted, and his senses abandoned him. . When he came back to consciousness, the sun was rising above the distant trees: the juogle was all completely quiet once more. The heat soon became so intense that it appeared to extinguish every trace of life, save that of the Barker’s only. But even the smallest insects which had swarmed during the night, bad now vanished ; and the at- mosphere seemed dead with ite heavy, inimoveable, torrid oppressiveness. The Burker shuddered ith horror as he thought of the terrific din which had startled him up in the middle of the night; and he wondered that he had not fallen a victim to the wild beasts which had raged or frolicked during the hours of the sun’s absence. To pass such an- other night as that, in the midet of the jungle, seemed an absolute impossibility; and the Burker asked himeelf in literal anguish of mind whether it were possible to find an issue from the wilderness during the many long hours of daytime that were now before him? He partook of his food; he drank of the contents of the gourd; and he re- sumed his way. The desert. spot was left behind: he was once again floundering through the jungle. In about ao hour he reached a forest, composed entirely of bambdos growing to a considerable height. Nothing‘ could sarpases the picturesque magnifl- eonce of that scene: but the Burker scarcely com- prehended it:—heaven knows he was in no ha- mour to contemplate whatsoever beauties nature might present to the view in the midst of that wilderness. Taking care not to approach tou hear w the trees of that forest, he pursued his way amidst the long grase,—until all in a mument he was startled by a savage growl; and looking around with an agodising sense of horror, he be- ewmwtunes! _ (CO G OOO SS} (CO