IN THE PENAL COLONY
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usually did only at the twelfth hour. Blood was flowing in a hundred
streams, unmixed with water, for the little water pipes had also failed this
time. And now the last thing failed too, the body did not release itself
from the long needles, but, bleeding profusely, hung over the ditch with·
out falling into it. The harrow was ready to fall back into its usual posi–
tion, but, as if it had noticed itself that it was not yet freed of its burden,
it remained suspended above the ditch. "Why don't you help?" the ex–
plorer shouted over to the guard and the condemned man, as he, himself,
seized the officer's feet. He tried to hold the feet down on his side and the
other two were to take hold of the officer's head from the other side, so
that he might be slowly lifted off the needles. But the two could not make
up their minds to join him; the condemned man practically turned away;
the explorer had to go over to them and force them to come over near the
officer's head. Just here he saw the face of the corpse, almost against his
will. It was as it had been in life; no sign of the promised redemption was
to be detected; that which all the others had found in the machine, the
officer had not found; his lips were tightly pressed together, his eyes were
open, and had an expression of life; their look was calm and convinced;
the point of the big iron prong pierced his forehead.
When the explorer reached the first houses of the colony, with the
soldier and the condemned man behind him, the soldier pointed at one
house and said, "That's the tea-house."
On
the ground floor of one house there was a deep, low, cavernous
room with smoke-stained walls and ceiling. On the street side it was wide
open. Although the tea-house differed little from the other houses in the
colony, which were all very run-down, with the exception of the palatial
structures that housed headquarters, it nevertheless gave the impression to
the explorer of an historic memory, and he felt the power of other days.
He walked nearer and, followed by his companions, he passed between the
unoccupied tables standing on the street before the tea-house, and inhaled
the cool, musty air which came from the inside. "The old man's buried
here," said the soldier. "The priest refused him a place in the cemetery.
At first they were undecided as to where to bury him, but they finally
buried him here. I'm sure the officer did not tell you anything about it, for
that was the thing he was most ashamed of. He even tried a few times to
disinter the old man at night, but he was always chased away.'' "Where is
the grave?" asked the explorer, who found it hard to believe the guard.
Both the guard and the condemned man immediately dashed ahead of him
and with outstretched hands pointed to the spot where the grave was to
be
found. They led the explorer straight to the bllck wall where customers
were sitting at a few of the tables. They were probably longshoremen,
sturdy looking men with short, glossy, full black beards. All of them were
coatless, their shirts torn; they were poor humble folk. As the explorer
approached, several of them rose, flattened themselves up against the wall
and looked in his direction. "He's a foreigner," was the whisper that went
