The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XLV 207
CHAPTER XLV
The Hunted
In the dim light shed by the moonbeams sifting through the thick foliage a man wandered through the forest
with slow and cautious steps. From time to time, as if to find his way, he whistled a peculiar melody, which
was answered in the distance by some one whistling the same air. The man would listen attentively and then
make his way in the direction of the distant sound, until at length, after overcoming the thousand obstacles
offered by the virgin forest in the night-time, he reached a small open space, which was bathed in the light of
the moon in its first quarter. The high, tree-crowned rocks that rose about formed a kind of ruined
amphitheater, in the center of which were scattered recently felled trees and charred logs among boulders
covered with nature's mantle of verdure.
Scarcely had the unknown arrived when another figure started suddenly from behind a large rock and
advanced with drawn revolver. "Who are you?" he asked in Tagalog in an imperious tone, cocking the
weapon.
"Is old Pablo among you?" inquired the unknown in an even tone, without answering the question or showing
any signs of fear.
"You mean the capitan? Yes, he's here."
"Then tell him that Elias is here looking for him," was the answer of the unknown, who was no other than the
mysterious pilot.
"Are you Elias?" asked the other respectfully, as he approached him, not, however, ceasing to cover him with
the revolver. "Then come!"
Elias followed him, and they penetrated into a kind of cave sunk down in the depths of the earth. The guide,
who seemed to be familiar with the way, warned the pilot when he should descend or turn aside or stoop
down, so they were not long in reaching a kind of hall which was poorly lighted by pitch torches and occupied
by twelve to fifteen armed men with dirty faces and soiled clothing, some seated and some lying down as they
talked fitfully to one another. Resting his arms on a stone that served for a table and gazing thoughtfully at the
torches, which gave out so little light for so much smoke, was seen an old, sad-featured man with his head
wrapped in a bloody bandage. Did we not know that it was a den of tulisanes we might have said, on reading
the look of desperation in the old man's face, that it was the Tower of Hunger on the eve before Ugolino
devoured his sons.
Upon the arrival of Elias and his guide the figures partly rose, but at a signal from the latter they settled back
again, satisfying themselves with the observation that the newcomer was unarmed. The old man turned his
head slowly and saw the quiet figure of Elias, who stood uncovered, gazing at him with sad interest.
"It's you at last," murmured the old man, his gaze lighting up somewhat as he recognized the youth.
"In what condition do I find you!" exclaimed the youth in a suppressed tone, shaking his head.
The old man dropped his head in silence and made a sign to the others, who arose and withdrew, first taking
the measure of the pilot's muscles and stature with a glance.
"Yes!" said the old man to Elias as soon as they were alone. "Six months ago when I sheltered you in my
house, it was I who pitied you. Now we have changed parts and it is you who pity me. But sit down and tell
me how you got here."