The Mahatma and the Hare: A Dream Story by H. Rider Haggard
THE COMING OF THE RED-FACED MAN
"As you like," said the Hare. "Certainly it was very dreadful. It seemedto last a long time. But I don't mind it so much now, for I feel that itcan never happen to me again. At least I hope it can't, for I don't knowwhat I have done to deserve such a fate, any more than I know why itshould have happened to me once."
"Something you did in a previous existence, perhaps," I answered. "Yousee then you may have hunted other creatures so cruelly that at lastyour turn came to suffer what you had made them suffer. I often thinkthat because of what we have done before we men are also really beinghunted by something we cannot see."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Hare, "I never thought of that. I hope it is true,for it makes things seem juster and less wicked. But I say, friendMahatma, what am I doing here now, where you tell me poor creatures withfour feet never, or hardly ever come?"
"I don't know, Hare. I am not wise, to whom it is only granted to visitthe Road occasionally to search for some one."
"I understand, Mahatma, but still you must know a great deal or youwould not be allowed in such a place before your time, or at any rateyou must be able to guess a great deal. So tell me, why do you thinkthat I am here?"
"I can't say, Hare, I can't indeed. Perhaps after the Gates are open andyour Guardian has given you to drink of the Cup, you will go to sleepand wake up again as something else."
"To drink of the cup, Mahatma? I don't drink; at least I didn't, thoughI can't tell what may happen here. But what do you mean about waking upas something else? Please be more plain. As what else?"
"Oh! who can know? Possibly as you are on the human Road you might evenbecome a man some day, though I should not advise you to build on such ahope as that."
"What do you say, Mahatma? A man! One of those two-legged beasts thathunt hares; a thing like Giles and Tom--yes, Tom? Oh! not that--notthat! I'd almost rather go through everything again than become a cruel,torturing man."
As it spoke thus the Hare grew so disturbed that it nearly vanished;literally it seemed to melt away till I could only perceive its outline.With a kind of shock I comprehended all the horror that it must feel atsuch a prospect as I had suggested to it, and really this grasping ofthe truth hurt my human pride. It had never come home to me before thatthe circumstances of their lives--and deaths--must cause some creaturesto see us in strange lights.
"Oh! I have no doubt I was mistaken," I said hurriedly, "and that yourwishes on the point will be respected. I told you that I know nothing."
At these words the Hare became quite visible again.
It sat up and very reflectively began to rub its still shadowy nose witha shadowy paw. I think that it remembered the sting of the salt water inthe cut made by the glass of the window through which it had sprung.
Believing that its remarkable story was done, and that presently itwould altogether melt away and vanish out of my knowledge, I lookedabout me. First I looked above the towering Gates to see whether theLights had yet begun to change. Then as they had not I looked down theGreat White Road, following it for miles and miles, until even to myspirit sight it lost itself in the Nowhere.
Presently coming up this Road towards us I saw a man dressed in a greencoat, riding-breeches and boots and a peaked cap, who held in his handa hunting-whip. He was a fine-looking person of middle age, with apleasant, open countenance, bright blue eyes, and very red cheeks,on which he wore light-coloured whiskers. In short a jovial-lookingindividual, with whom things had evidently always gone well, one to whomsorrow and disappointment and mental struggle were utter strangers. He,at least, had never known what it is to "endure hardness" in all hislife.
Studying his nature as one can do on the Road, I perceived also that inhim there was no guile. He was a good-minded, God-fearing man accordingto his simple lights, who had done many kindnesses and contributedliberally towards the wants of the poor, though as he had been veryrich, it had cost him little thus to gratify the natural promptings ofhis heart.
Moreover he was what Jorsen calls a "young soul," quite young indeed, bywhich I mean that he had not often walked the Road in previous states oflife, as for instance that Eastern woman had done who accosted me beforethe arrival of the Hare. So to speak his crude nature had scarcelyoutgrown the primitive human condition in which necessity as well astaste make it customary and pleasant to men to kill; that conditionthrough which almost every boy passes on his way to manhood, I supposeby the working of some secret law of reminiscence.
It was this thought that first led me to connect the new-comer with theRed-faced Man of the Hare's story. It may seem strange that I shouldhave been so dense, but the truth is that it never occurred to me, anymore than it had done to the Hare, that such a person would be at alllikely to tread the Road for many years to come. I had gathered that hewas comparatively young, and although I had argued otherwise with theHare, had concluded therefore that he would continue to live hishappy earth life until old age brought him to a natural end. Hence myobtuseness.
The man was drifting towards me thoughtfully, evidently much bewilderedby his new surroundings but not in the least afraid. Indeed there noneare afraid; when they glide from their death-beds to the Road they leavefear behind them with the other terrors of our mortal lot.
Presently he became conscious of the presence of the Hare, and thoughtspassed through his mind which of course I could read.
"My word!" he said to himself, "things are better than I hoped. There'sa hare, and where there are hares there must be hunting and shooting.Oh! if only I had a gun, or the ghost of a gun!"
Then an idea struck him. He lifted his hunting-crop and hurled it at theHare.
As it was only the shadow of a crop of course it could hurt nothing.Still it went through the shadow of the Hare and caused it to twistround like lightning.
"That was a good shot anyway," he reflected, with a satisfied smile.
By now the Hare had seen him.
"_The Red-faced Man!_" it exclaimed, "Grampus himself!" and it turned toflee away.
"Don't be frightened," I cried, "he can't hurt you; nothing can hurt youhere."
The Hare halted and sat up. "No," it said, "I forgot. But you saw, hetried to. Now, Mahatma, you will understand what a bloodthirsty brute heis. Even after I am dead he has tried to kill me again."
"Well, and why not?" interrupted the Man. "What are hares for except tobe killed?"
"There, Mahatma, you hear him. Look at me, Man, who am I?"
So he looked at the Hare and the Hare looked at him. Presently his facegrew puzzled.
"By Jingo!" he said slowly, "you are uncommonly like--you _are_ thataccursed witch of a hare which cost me my life. There are the whitemarks on your back, and there is the grey splotch on your ear. Oh! ifonly I had a gun--a real gun!"
"You would shoot me, wouldn't you, or try to?" said the Hare. "Well, youhaven't and you can't. You say I cost you your life. What do you mean?It was my life that was sacrificed, not yours."
"Indeed," answered the Man, "I thought you got away. Never saw any moreof you after you jumped through the French window. Never had time. Thelast thing I remember is her Ladyship screaming like a mad cockatoo,yes, and abusing me as though I were a pickpocket, with the drawing-roomall on fire. Then something happened, and down I went among the brokenchina and hit my head against the leg of a table. Next came a kind ofwhirling blackness and I woke up here."
"A fit or a stroke," I suggested.
"Both, I think, sir. The fit first--I have had 'em before, and thestroke afterwards--against the leg of the table. Anyway they finished mebetween them, thanks to that little beast."
Then it was that I saw a very strange thing, a hare in a rage. It seemedto go mad, of course I mean spiritually mad. Its eyes flashed fire; itopened its mouth and shut it after the fashion of a suffocating fish. Atlast it spoke in its own way--I cannot stop to explain in further detailthe exact manner of speech or rather of its equivalent upon the Road.
"Man, Man," it exclaimed, "you
"Well," replied the Man coolly, "and suppose I, or my people, did, whatof it? Why shouldn't I? You were a beast, I was a man with dominion overyou. You can read all about that in the Book of Genesis."
"I never heard of the Book of Genesis," said the Hare, "but what doesdominion mean? Does this Book of Genesis say that it means the right totorment that which is weaker than the tormentor?"
"All you animals were made for us to eat," commented the Man, avoidingan answer to the direct question.
"Very good," answered the Hare, "let us suppose that we _were_ givenyou to eat. Was it in order to eat me that you came out against me withguns, then with dogs that run by sight, and then with dogs that run bysmell?"
"If you were to be killed and eaten, why should you not be killed in oneof these ways, Hare?"
"Why should I be killed in those ways, Man, when others more mercifulwere to your hand? Indeed, why should I be killed at all? Moreover, ifyou wished to satisfy your hunger with my body, why at the last was Ithrown to the dogs to devour?"
"I don't quite know, Hare. Never looked at the matter in that lightbefore. But--ah! I've got you now," he added triumphantly. "If it hadn'tbeen for me you never would have lived. You see _I_ gave you the gift oflife. Therefore, instead of grumbling, you should be very much obligedto me. Don't you understand? I preserved hares, so that without me youwould never have been a hare. Isn't that right, Mr.-- Mr.--I am sorry Ihave forgotten your name," he added, turning towards me.
"Mahatma," I said.
"Oh! yes, I remember it now--Mr.--ah--Mr. Hatter."
"There is something in the argument," I replied cautiously, "but let ushear our friend's answer."
"Answer--my answer! Well, here it is. What are you, Man, who dare to saythat you give life or withhold it? You a Lord of life, _you!_ I tellyou that I know little, yet I am sure that you or those like you haveno more power to create life than the world we have left has to bid thestars to shine. If the life must come, it will come, and if it cannotfulfil itself as a hare, then it will appear as something else. If yousay that you create life, I, the poor beast which you tortured, tell youthat you are a presumptuous liar."
"You dare to lecture me," said the Man, "me, the heir of all the ages,as the poet called me. Why, you nasty little animal, do you know that Ihave killed hundreds like you, and," he added, with a sudden afflatus ofpride, "thousands of other creatures, such as pheasants, to say nothingof deer and larger game? That has been my principal occupation since Iwas a boy. I may say that I have lived for sport; got very little elseto show for my life, so to speak."
"Oh!" said the Hare, "have you? Well, if I were you, I shouldn't boastabout it just now. You see, we are still outside of those Gates. Whoknows but that you will find every one of the living things you haveamused yourself by slaughtering waiting for you within them, eachpraying for justice to its Maker and your own?"
"My word!" said the Man, "what a horrible notion; it's like a baddream."
He reflected a little, then added, "Well, if they do, I've got myanswer. I killed them for food; man must live. Millions of pheasants aresold to be eaten every year at a much smaller price than they cost tobreed. What do you say to that, Mr. Hatter? Finishes him, I think."
"I'm not arguing," I replied. "Ask the Hare."
"Yes, ask me, Man, and although you are repeating yourself, I'll answerwith another question, knowing that here you must tell the truth. Didyou really rear us all for food? Was it for this that you kept yourkeepers, your running dogs and your hunting dogs, that you might killpoor defenceless beasts and birds to fill men's stomachs? If this wasso, I have nothing more to say. Indeed, if our deaths or sufferings attheir hands really help men in any way, I have nothing more to say. Iadmit that you are higher and stronger than we are, and have a right touse us for your own advantage, or even to destroy us altogether if weharm you."
The Man pondered, then replied sullenly--
"You know very well that it was not so. I did not rear up pheasants andhares merely to eat them or that others might eat them. Something forcesme to tell you that it was in order that I might enjoy myself by showingmy skill in shooting them, or to have the pleasure and exercise ofhunting them to death. Still," he added defiantly, "I who am a Christianman maintain that my religion perfectly justified me in doing all thesethings, and that no blame attaches to me on this account."
"Very good," said the Hare, "now we have a clear issue. Friend Mahatma,when those Gates open presently what happens beyond them?"
"I don't know," I answered, "I have never been there; at least not thatI can remember."
"Still, friend Mahatma, is it not said that yonder lives some Powerwhich judges righteously and declares what is true and what is false?"
"I have heard so, Hare."
"Very well, Man, I lay my cause before that Power--do you the same. If Iam wrong I will go back to earth to be tortured by you and yours again.If, however, I am right, you shall abide the judgment of the Power, andI ask that It will make of you--a hunted hare!"
Now when he heard these awful words--for they were awful--no less, theRed-faced Man grew much disturbed. He hummed and he hawed, and shiftedhis feet about. At last he said--
"You must admit that while you lived you had a first-class time under myprotection. Lots of turnips to eat and so forth."
"A first-class time!" the Hare answered with withering scorn. "What sortof a time would you have had if some one had shot you all over the backand you must creep away to die of pain and starvation? How would youhave enjoyed it if, from day to day, you had been forced to live interror of cunning monsters, who at any hour might appear to hurt you insome new fashion? Do you suppose that animals cannot feel fear, and iscontinual fear the kind of friend that gives them a 'first-class time'?"
To this last argument the Man seemed able to find no answer.
"Mr. Hare," he said humbly, "we are all fallible. Although I neverthought to find myself in the position of having to do so, I will admitthat I may possibly have been mistaken in my views and treatment of youand your kind, and indeed of other creatures. If so, I apologise forany, ah--temporary inconvenience I may have caused you. I can do nomore."
"Come, Hare," I interposed, "that's handsome; perhaps you might letbygones be bygones."
"Apologise!" exclaimed the Hare. "After all I have suffered I do notthink it is enough. At the very least, Mahatma, he should say that he isheartily ashamed and sorry."
"Well, well," said the Man, "it's no use making two bites of a cherry. Iam sorry, truly sorry for all the pain and terror I have brought on you.If that won't do let's go up and settle the matter, and if I've beenwrong I'll try to bear the consequences like a gentleman. Only, Mr.Hare, I hope that you will not wish to put your case more stronglyagainst me than you need."
"Not I, Man. I know now that you only erred because the truth had notbeen revealed to you--because you did not understand. All that I willask, if I can, is that you may be allowed to tell this truth to othermen."
"Well, I am glad to say I can't do that, Hare."
"Don't be so sure," I broke in; "it's just the kind of thing which mightbe decreed--a generation or two hence when the world is fit to listen toyou."
But he took no heed, or did not comprehend me, and went on--
"It is an impossibility, and if I did they would think me a lunatic ora snivelling, sentimental humbug. I believe that lots of my old friendswould scarcely speak to me again. Why, putting aside the pleasures ofsport, if the views you preach were to be accepted, what would become ofkeepers and beaters and huntsmen and dog-breeders, and of thousands ofothers who directly or indirectly get their living out of hunting andshooting? Where would game rents be also?"
"I d
"If you have more to say you had better say it quickly," I interrupted,addressing the Red-faced Man. "I see that the Lights are beginning tochange, which means that soon the Road will be closed and the Gatesopened."
"I can't remember anything," he answered. "Yes, there is one matter," headded nervously. "I see, Mr. Hare, that you are thinking of my boy Tom,not very kindly I am afraid. As you have been so good as to forgive me Ihope that you won't be hard on Tom. He is not at all a bad sort of a ladif a little thoughtless, like many other young people."
"I don't like Tom," said the Hare, with decision. "Tom shot me when youtold him not to shoot. Tom shut me up in a filthy place with a yellowrabbit which he forgot to feed, so that it wanted to eat me. Tom triedto cut me off from the wood so that the running dogs might catch me,although you shouted to him that it was not sportsmanlike. Tom draggedme out of the sea and blew down my nostrils to keep me alive. Tom threwme to the hounds, although Giles remonstrated with him and even thehuntsman begged him to let me go. I tell you that I don't like Tom."
"Still, Mr. Hare," pleaded the Red-faced Man, "I hope that if it shouldbe in your power when we get through those Gates, that you will bemerciful to Tom. I can't think of much to say for him in this hurry, butthere, he is my only son and the truth is that I love him. You know hemay live--to be different--if you don't bring some misfortune on him."
"Who am I to bring misfortune or to withhold it?" asked the Hare,softening visibly. "Well, I know what love means, for my mother loved meand I loved her in my way. I tell you that when I saw her dead, turnedfrom a beautiful living thing into a stained lump of flesh and fur, Ifelt dreadful. I understand now that you love Tom as my mother loved me,and, Man, for the sake of your love--not for his sake, mind--I promiseyou that I won't say anything against Tom if I can help it, or doanything either."
"You're a real good fellow!" exclaimed the Red-faced Man, with evidentrelief. "Give me your hand. Oh! I forgot, you can't. Hullo! what's upnow? Everything seems to be altering."
*****
As he spoke, to my eyes the Lights began to change in earnest. All thesky (I call it sky for clearness) above the mighty Gates became asit were alive with burning tongues of every colour that an artist canconceive. By degrees these fiery tongues or swords shaped themselvesinto a vast circle which drove back the walls of darkness, and throughthis circle, guided, guarded by the spirits of dead suns, with odoursand with chantings, descended that crowned City of the Mansions beforewhose glory imagination breaks and even Vision veils her eyes.
It descended, its banners wavering in the winds of prayer; it hung abovethe Gates, the flowers of all splendours, Heaven's very rose, hung likean opal on the boundless breast of night, and there it stayed.
The Voice in the North called to the Voice in the South; the Voice inthe East called to the Voice in the West, and up the Great White Roadsped the Angel of the Road, making report as he came that all hismultitude were gathered in and for that while the Road was barred.
He passed and in a flash the Gates were burned away. The ashes of themfell upon the heads of those waiting at the Gates, whitening their facesand drying their tears before the Change. They fell upon the Man and theHare beside me, veiling them as it were and making them silent, buton me they did not fall. Then, from between the Wardens of the Gates,flowed forth the Helpers and the Guardians (save those who already werewithout comforting the children) seeking their beloved and bearing theCups of slumber and new birth; then pealed the question--
"Who hath suffered most? Let that one first taste of peace."
Now all the dim hosts surged forward since each outworn soul believedthat it had suffered most and was in the bitterest need of peace. Butthe Helpers and the Guardians gently pressed them back, and again therepealed, no question but a command.
This was the command:--
"Draw near, thou Hare."
*****
Jorsen asked me what happened after this justification of the Hare,which, if I heard aright, appeared to suggest that by the decree of somejudge unknown, the woes of such creatures are not unnoted and despised,or left unsolaced. Of course I had to answer him that I could not tell.
Perhaps nothing happened at all. Perhaps all the wonders I seemed tosee, even the Road by which souls travel from There to Here and fromHere to There, and the Gates that were burned away, and the City of theMansions that descended, were but signs and symbols of mysteries whichas yet we cannot grasp or understand.
Whatever may be the truth as to this matter of my visions, I need hardlyadd, however, that no one can be more anxious than I am myself to learnin what way the Red-faced Man, speaking on behalf of our dominant race,and the Hare, speaking as an appointed advocate of the subject animalcreation, finished their argument in the light of fuller knowledge.Much also do I wonder which of them was proved to be right, a difficultmatter whereon I feel quite incompetent to express any views.
But you see at that moment I woke up. The edge of the Road on which Iwas standing seemed to give way beneath me, and I fell into space as onedoes in a nightmare. It is a very unpleasant sensation.
*****
I remember noticing afterwards that I could not have been long asleep.When I began to dream I had only just blown out the candle, and when Iawoke again there was still a smouldering spark upon its wick.
But, as I have said, in that spirit-land wither I had journeyed is to befound neither time nor space nor any other familiar thing.