Herland Charlotte Perkins Gilman (ebook and pdf reader TXT) đ
- Author: Charlotte Perkins Gilman
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We could look out east, west, and south. To the southeastward stretched the open country, lying bright and fair in the morning light, but on either side, and evidently behind, rose great mountains.
âThis thing is a regular fortressâ âand no women built it, I can tell you that,â said Terry. We nodded agreeingly. âItâs right up among the hillsâ âthey must have brought us a long way.â
âAnd pretty fast, too,â I added.
âWe saw some kind of swift-moving vehicles the first day,â Jeff reminded us. âIf theyâve got motors, they are civilized.â
âCivilized or not, weâve got our work cut out for us to get away from here. I donât propose to make a rope of bedclothes and try those walls till Iâm sure there is no better way.â
We all concurred on this point, and returned to our discussion as to the women.
Jeff continued thoughtful. âAll the same, thereâs something funny about it,â he urged. âIt isnât just that we donât see any menâ âbut we donât see any signs of them. Theâ âtheâ âreaction of these women is different from any that Iâve ever met.â
âThere is something in what you say, Jeff,â I agreed. âThere is a differentâ âatmosphere.â
âThey donât seem to notice our being men,â he went on. âThey treat usâ âwellâ âjust as they do one another. Itâs as if our being men was a minor incident.â
I nodded. Iâd noticed it myself. But Terry broke in rudely.
âFiddlesticks!â he said. âItâs because of their advanced age. Theyâre all grandmas, I tell youâ âor ought to be. Great aunts, anyhow. Those girls were girls all right, werenât they?â
âYesâ ââ Jeff agreed, still slowly. âBut they werenât afraidâ âthey flew up that tree and hid, like schoolboys caught out of boundsâ ânot like shy girls.â
âAnd they ran like marathon winnersâ âyouâll admit that, Terry,â he added.
Terry was moody as the days passed. He seemed to mind our confinement more than Jeff or I did; and he harped on Alima, and how near heâd come to catching her. âIf I hadâ ââ he would say, rather savagely, âweâd have had a hostage and could have made terms.â
But Jeff was getting on excellent terms with his tutor, and even his guards, and so was I. It interested me profoundly to note and study the subtle difference between these women and other women, and try to account for them. In the matter of personal appearance, there was a great difference. They all wore short hair, some few inches at most; some curly, some not; all light and clean and fresh-looking.
âIf their hair was only long,â Jeff would complain, âthey would look so much more feminine.â
I rather liked it myself, after I got used to it. Why we should so admire âa womanâs crown of hairâ and not admire a Chinamanâs queue is hard to explain, except that we are so convinced that the long hair âbelongsâ to a woman. Whereas the âmaneâ in horses is on both, and in lions, buffalos, and such creatures only on the male. But I did miss itâ âat first.
Our time was quite pleasantly filled. We were free of the garden below our windows, quite long in its irregular rambling shape, bordering the cliff. The walls were perfectly smooth and high, ending in the masonry of the building; and as I studied the great stones I became convinced that the whole structure was extremely old. It was built like the pre-Incan architecture in Peru, of enormous monoliths, fitted as closely as mosaics.
âThese folks have a history, thatâs sure,â I told the others. âAnd some time they were fightersâ âelse why a fortress?â
I said we were free of the garden, but not wholly alone in it. There was always a string of those uncomfortably strong women sitting about, always one of them watching us even if the others were reading, playing games, or busy at some kind of handiwork.
âWhen I see them knit,â Terry said, âI can almost call them feminine.â
âThat doesnât prove anything,â Jeff promptly replied. âScotch shepherds knitâ âalways knitting.â
âWhen we get outâ ââ Terry stretched himself and looked at the far peaks, âwhen we get out of this and get to where the real women areâ âthe mothers, and the girlsâ ââ
âWell, whatâll we do then?â I asked, rather gloomily. âHow do you know weâll ever get out?â
This was an unpleasant idea, which we unanimously considered, returning with earnestness to our studies.
âIf we are good boys and learn our lessons well,â I suggested. âIf we are quiet and respectful and polite and they are not afraid of usâ âthen perhaps they will let us out. And anywayâ âwhen we do escape, it is of immense importance that we know the language.â
Personally, I was tremendously interested in that language, and seeing they had books, was eager to get at them, to dig into their history, if they had one.
It was not hard to speak, smooth and pleasant to the ear, and so easy to read and write that I marveled at it. They had an absolutely phonetic system, the whole thing was as scientific as Esperanto yet bore all the marks of an old and rich civilization.
We were free to study as much as we wished, and were not left merely to wander in the garden for recreation but introduced to a great gymnasium, partly on the roof and partly in the story below. Here we learned real respect for our tall guards. No change of costume was needed for this work, save to lay off outer clothing. The first one was as perfect a garment for exercise as need be devised, absolutely free to move in, and, I had to admit, much better-looking than our usual one.
âFortyâ âover fortyâ âsome of âem fifty, I betâ âand look at âem!â grumbled Terry in reluctant admiration.
There were no spectacular acrobatics, such as only the young can perform,
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