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SILENCE —­ A FABLE

ALCMAN.  The mountain pinnacles slumber; valleys, crags and caves are silent.

“LISTEN to me,” said the Demon as he placed his hand upon my head.  “The region of which I speak is a dreary region in Libya, by the borders of the river Zaire.  And there is no quiet there, nor silence.

“The waters of the river have a saffron and sickly hue; and they flow not onwards to the sea, but palpitate forever and forever beneath the red eye of the sun with a tumultuous and convulsive motion.  For many miles on either side of the river’s oozy bed is a pale desert of gigantic water-lilies.  They sigh one unto the other in that solitude, and stretch towards the heaven their long and ghastly necks, and nod to and fro their everlasting heads.  And there is an indistinct murmur which cometh out from among them like the rushing of subterrene water.  And they sigh one unto the other.

“But there is a boundary to their realm —­ the boundary of the dark, horrible, lofty forest.  There, like the waves about the Hebrides, the low underwood is agitated continually.  But there is no wind throughout the heaven.  And the tall primeval trees rock eternally hither and thither with a crashing and mighty sound.  And from their high summits, one by one, drop everlasting dews.  And at the roots strange poisonous flowers lie writhing in perturbed slumber.  And overhead, with a rustling and loud noise, the gray clouds rush westwardly forever, until they roll, a cataract, over the fiery wall of the horizon.  But there is no wind throughout the heaven.  And by the shores of the river Zaire there is neither quiet nor silence.

“It was night, and the rain fell; and falling, it was rain, but, having fallen, it was blood.  And I stood in the morass among the tall and the rain fell upon my head —­ and the lilies sighed one unto the other in the solemnity of their desolation.

“And, all at once, the moon arose through the thin ghastly mist, and was crimson in color.  And mine eyes fell upon a huge gray rock which stood by the shore of the river, and was lighted by the light of the moon.  And the rock was gray, and ghastly, and tall, —­ and the rock was gray.  Upon its front were characters engraven in the stone; and I walked through the morass of water-lilies, until I came close unto the shore, that I might read the characters upon the stone.  But I could not decypher them.  And I was going back into the morass, when the moon shone with a fuller red, and I turned and looked again upon the rock, and upon the characters; —­ and the characters were DESOLATION.