At last, when the inflow had ceased,—when there must have been
millions of the brown killers in the tunnel,—the great hollow
cylinder turned slowly on its axis and backed out through the rent
in the wall, which immediately closed, with a crushing and
scattering of fragments. Though the allies were far down-stream now,
the war was practically ended; for the white defenders remained near
the walls, and the black invaders were in wildest panic, each one,
as the resistless current rushed him past, swimming against the
stream, to put distance between himself and the destroyer below. But
before long an advance-guard of the brown enemy shot out from the
tributaries above, and the tide of retreat swung backward. Then came
thousands of them, and the massacre was resumed.
“Hot stuff, eh?” said his friendly neighbor to him.
“Y-y-y-es—I guess so,” he answered, rather vacantly; “I don’t know.
I don’t know anything about it. I never saw such doings. What is it
all for? What does it mean?”
“Oh, this is nothing; it’s all in a lifetime. Still, I admit it
might ha’ been serious for us—and you, too—if we hadn’t got help.”
“But who are they, and what? They all seem of a family, and are
killing each other.”
“Immortal shade of Darwin!” exclaimed the other sentry, who had not
spoken before. “Where were you brought up? Don’t you know that
variations from type are the deadliest enemies of the parent stock?
These two brown breeds are the hundredth or two-hundredth cousins of
the black kind. When they’ve killed off their common relative, and
get to competing for grub, they’ll exterminate each other, and we’ll
be rid of ’em all. Law of nature. Understand?”
“Oh, y-yes, I understand, of course; but what did the black kind
attack me for? And what do they want, anyway?”
“To follow out their destiny, I s’pose. They’re the kind of folks
who have missions. Reformers, we call ’em—who want to enforce their
peculiar ideas and habits on other people. Sometimes we call them
expansionists—fond of colonizing territory that doesn’t belong to
them. They wanted to get through the cells to the lymph-passages,
thence on to the brain and spinal marrow. Know what that means?
Hydrophobia.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, say, now! You’re too easy.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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