A Dreamer's Tales

by Lord Dunsany

  THE HASHISH MAN

  I was at a dinner in London the other day. The ladies had gone upstairs,and no one sat on my right; on my left there was a man I did not know, buthe knew my name somehow apparently, for he turned to me after a while, andsaid, "I read a story of yours about Bethmoora in a review."

  Of course I remembered the tale. It was about a beautiful Oriental citythat was suddenly deserted in a day--nobody quite knew why. I said, "Oh,yes," and slowly searched in my mind for some more fitting acknowledgmentof the compliment that his memory had paid me.

  I was greatly astonished when he said, "You were wrong about the gnousarsickness; it was not that at all."

  I said, "Why! Have you been there?"

  And he said, "Yes; I do it with hashish. I know Bethmoora well." And hetook out of his pocket a small box full of some black stuff that lookedlike tar, but had a stranger smell. He warned me not to touch it with myfinger, as the stain remained for days. "I got it from a gipsy," he said."He had a lot of it, as it had killed his father." But I interrupted him,for I wanted to know for certain what it was that had made desolate thatbeautiful city, Bethmoora, and why they fled from it swiftly in a day."Was it because of the Desert's curse?" I asked. And he said, "Partly itwas the fury of the Desert and partly the advice of the Emperor ThubaMleen, for that fearful beast is in some way connected with the Desert onhis mother's side." And he told me this strange story: "You remember thesailor with the black scar, who was there on the day that you describedwhen the messengers came on mules to the gate of Bethmoora, and all thepeople fled. I met this man in a tavern, drinking rum, and he told me allabout the flight from Bethmoora, but knew no more than you did what themessage was, or who had sent it. However, he said he would see Bethmooraonce more whenever he touched again at an eastern port, even if he had toface the Devil. He often said that he would face the Devil to find out themystery of that message that emptied Bethmoora in a day. And in the end hehad to face Thuba Mleen, whose weak ferocity he had not imagined. For oneday the sailor told me he had found a ship, and I met him no more afterthat in the tavern drinking rum. It was about that time that I got thehashish from the gipsy, who had a quantity that he did not want. It takesone literally out of oneself. It is like wings. You swoop over distantcountries and into other worlds. Once I found out the secret of theuniverse. I have forgotten what it was, but I know that the Creator doesnot take Creation seriously, for I remember that He sat in Space with allHis work in front of Him and laughed. I have seen incredible things infearful worlds. As it is your imagination that takes you there, so it isonly by your imagination that you can get back. Once out in aether I met abattered, prowling spirit, that had belonged to a man whom drugs hadkilled a hundred years ago; and he led me to regions that I had neverimagined; and we parted in anger beyond the Pleiades, and I could notimagine my way back. And I met a huge grey shape that was the Spirit ofsome great people, perhaps of a whole star, and I besought It to show memy way home, and It halted beside me like a sudden wind and pointed, and,speaking quite softly, asked me if I discerned a certain tiny light, and Isaw a far star faintly, and then It said to me, 'That is the SolarSystem,' and strode tremendously on. And somehow I imagined my way back,and only just in time, for my body was already stiffening in a chair in myroom; and the fire had gone out and everything was cold, and I had to moveeach finger one by one, and there were pins and needles in them, anddreadful pains in the nails, which began to thaw; and at last I could moveone arm, and reached a bell, and for a long time no one came, becauseevery one was in bed. But at last a man appeared, and they got a doctor;and HE said that it was hashish poisoning, but it would have been allright if I hadn't met that battered, prowling spirit.

  "I could tell you astounding things that I have seen, but you want to knowwho sent that message to Bethmoora. Well, it was Thuba Mleen. And this ishow I know. I often went to the city after that day you wrote of (I usedto take hashish of an evening in my flat), and I always found ituninhabited. Sand had poured into it from the desert, and the streets wereyellow and smooth, and through open, swinging doors the sand had drifted.

  "One evening I had put the guard in front of the fire, and settled into achair and eaten my hashish, and the first thing that I saw when I came toBethmoora was the sailor with the black scar, strolling down the street,and making footprints in the yellow sand. And now I knew that I should seewhat secret power it was that kept Bethmoora uninhabited.

  "I saw that there was anger in the Desert, for there were storm cloudsheaving along the skyline, and I heard a muttering amongst the sand.

  "The sailor strolled on down the street, looking into the empty houses ashe went; sometimes he shouted and sometimes he sang, and sometimes hewrote his name on a marble wall. Then he sat down on a step and ate hisdinner. After a while he grew tired of the city, and came back up thestreet. As he reached the gate of green copper three men on camelsappeared.

  "I could do nothing. I was only a consciousness, invisible, wandering: mybody was in Europe. The sailor fought well with his fists, but he wasover-powered and bound with ropes, and led away through the Desert.

  "I followed for as long as I could stay, and found that they were going bythe way of the Desert round the Hills of Hap towards Utnar Vehi, and thenI knew that the camel men belonged to Thuba Mleen.

  "I work in an insurance office all day, and I hope you won't forget me ifever you want to insure--life, fire, or motor--but that's no part of mystory. I was desperately anxious to get back to my flat, though it is notgood to take hashish two days running; but I wanted to see what they woulddo to the poor fellow, for I had heard bad rumours about Thuba Mleen. Whenat last I got away I had a letter to write; then I rang for my servant,and told him that I must not be disturbed, though I left my door unlockedin case of accidents. After that I made up a good fire, and sat down andpartook of the pot of dreams. I was going to the palace of Thuba Mleen.

  "I was kept back longer than usual by noises in the street, but suddenly Iwas up above the town; the European countries rushed by beneath me, andthere appeared the thin white palace spires of horrible Thuba Mleen. Ifound him presently at the end of a little narrow room. A curtain of redleather hung behind him, on which all the names of God, written inYannish, were worked with a golden thread. Three windows were small andhigh. The Emperor seemed no more than about twenty, and looked small andweak. No smiles came on his nasty yellow face, though he titteredcontinually. As I looked from his low forehead to his quivering under lip,I became aware that there was some horror about him, though I was not ableto perceive what it was. And then I saw it--the man never blinked; andthough later on I watched those eyes for a blink, it never happened once.

  "And then I followed the Emperor's rapt glance, and I saw the sailor lyingon the floor, alive but hideously rent, and the royal torturers were atwork all round him. They had torn long strips from him, but had notdetached them, and they were torturing the ends of them far away from thesailor." The man that I met at dinner told me many things which I mustomit. "The sailor was groaning softly, and every time he groaned ThubaMleen tittered. I had no sense of smell, but I could hear and see, and Ido not know which was the most revolting--the terrible condition of thesailor or the happy unblinking face of horrible Thuba Mleen.

  "I wanted to go away, but the time was not yet come, and I had to staywhere I was.

  "Suddenly the Emperor's face began to twitch violently and his under lipquivered faster, and he whimpered with anger, and cried with a shrillvoice, in Yannish, to the captain of his torturers that there was a spiritin the room. I feared not, for living men cannot lay hands on a spirit,but all the torturers were appalled at his anger, and stopped their work,for their hands trembled in fear. Then two men of the spear-guard slippedfrom the room, and each of them brought back presently a golden bowl, withknobs on it, full of hashish; and the bowls were large enough for heads tohave floated in had they been filled with blood. And the two men fell torapidly, each eating with two great spoons--there was enough in eachspoonful
to have given dreams to a hundred men. And there came upon themsoon the hashish state, and their spirits hovered, preparing to go free,while I feared horribly, but ever and anon they fell back again to theirbodies, recalled by some noise in the room. Still the men ate, but lazilynow, and without ferocity. At last the great spoons dropped out of theirhands, and their spirits rose and left them. I could not flee. And thespirits were more horrible than the men, because they were young men, andnot yet wholly moulded to fit their fearful souls. Still the sailorgroaned softly, evoking little titters from the Emperor Thuba Mleen. Thenthe two spirits rushed at me, and swept me thence as gusts of wind sweepbutterflies, and away we went from that small, pale, heinous man. Therewas no escaping from these spirits' fierce insistence. The energy in myminute lump of the drug was overwhelmed by the huge spoonsful that thesemen had eaten with both hands. I was whirled over Arvle Woondery, andbrought to the lands of Snith, and swept on still until I came to Kragua,and beyond this to those bleak lands that are nearly unknown to fancy. Andwe came at last to those ivory hills that are named the Mountains ofMadness, and I tried to struggle against the spirits of that frightfulEmperor's men, for I heard on the other side of the ivory hills thepittering of those beasts that prey on the mad, as they prowled up anddown. It was no fault of mine that my little lump of hashish could notfight with their horrible spoonsful...."

  Some one was tugging at the hall-door bell. Presently a servant came andtold our host that a policeman in the hall wished to speak to him at once.He apologised to us, and went outside, and we heard a man in heavy boots,who spoke in a low voice to him. My friend got up and walked over to thewindow, and opened it, and looked outside. "I should think it will be afine night," he said. Then he jumped out. When we put our astonished headsout of the window to look for him, he was already out of sight.