The Most Dangerous Game 14

“Did not make me condone cold-blooded murder,” finished Rainsford stiffly. Laughter shook the general. “How extraordinarily droll you are!” hesaid. “One does not expect nowadays to find a young man of the educatedclass, even in America, with such a naive, and, if I may say so,mid-Victorian point of view. It’s like finding a snuffbox in alimousine. Ah, well, doubtless you had Puritan ancestors. So manyAmericans appear to have had. I’ll wager you’ll forget your notions whenyou go hunting with me. You’ve a genuine new thrill in store for you,Mr. Rainsford.” “Thank you, I’m a hunter, not a murderer.” “Dear me,” said the general, quite unruffled, “again that unpleasantword. But I think I can show you that your scruples are quite ill founded.” “Yes?” “Life is for the strong, to be lived by the strong, and, if needs be,taken by the strong. The weak of the world were put here to give thestrong pleasure. I am strong. Why should I not use my gift? If I wish tohunt, why should I not? I hunt the scum of the earth: sailors from trampships–lassars, blacks, Chinese, whites, mongrels–a thoroughbred horseor hound is worth more than a score of them.” “But they are men,” said Rainsford hotly. “Precisely,” said the general. “That is why I use them. It gives mepleasure. They can reason, after a fashion. So they are dangerous.” “But where do you get them?” The general’s left eyelid fluttered down in a wink. “This island iscalled Ship Trap,” he answered. “Sometimes an angry god of the high seassends them to me. Sometimes, when Providence is not so kind, I helpProvidence a bit. Come to the window with me.” Rainsford went to the window and looked out toward the sea.