The Most Dangerous Game

Dense jungle came down to the very edge of the cliffs.

I suppose the first three shots I heard was when the hunter flushed his quarry and wounded it.

The pit grew deeper; when it was above his shoulders, he climbed out and from some hard saplings cut stakes and sharpened them to a fine point.

The island is perfect for my purposes--there are jungles with a maze of traits in them, hills, swamps--"
"But the animal, General Zaroff?"

Whenever he looked up from his plate he found the general studying him, appraising him narrowly.

His foot touched the protruding bough that was the trigger.

"Mirage," thought Rainsford.

The stone steps were real enough; the massive door with a leering gargoyle for a knocker was real enough; yet above it all hung an air of unreality.

Then he added, hastily: "I don't wish you to think me a braggart, Mr. Rainsford.

Surely your experiences in the war--"
"Did not make me condone cold-blooded murder," finished Rainsford stiffly.

The bed was good, and the pajamas of the softest silk, and he was tired in every fiber of his being, but nevertheless Rainsford could not quiet his brain with the opiate of sleep.

Sometimes I think evil is a tangible thing--with wave lengths, just as sound and light have.

There was a medieval magnificence about it; it suggested a baronial hall of feudal times with its oaken panels, its high ceiling, its vast refectory tables where twoscore men could sit down to eat.

His eyes made out the shadowy outlines of a palatial chateau; it was set on a high bluff, and on three sides of it cliffs dived down to where the sea licked greedy lips in the shadows.

Your strength and stamina against mine.

He heard it again; then it was cut short by another noise, crisp, staccato.

Even so zealous a hunter as General Zaroff could not trace him there, he told himself; only the devil himself could follow that complicated trail through the jungle after dark.

Some superstition--"
"Can't see it," remarked Rainsford, trying to peer through the dank tropical night that was palpable as it pressed its thick warm blackness in upon the yacht.

"So," continued the general, "I asked myself why the hunt no longer fascinated me.

"After the debacle in Russia I left the country, for it was imprudent for an officer of the Czar to stay there.

He looks resourceful--Well, good night, Mr. Rainsford; I hope you have a good night's rest."