The Book of the Damned

Now all the other savages would know of a few vessels sailing in their regular routes, passing this island in regularized periodicities. The tendency in these minds would be expression of the universal tendency toward positivism--or Completeness--or conviction that these few regularized vessels constituted all. Now I think of some especial savage who suspects otherwise--because he's very backward and unimaginative and insensible to the beautiful ideals of the others: not piously occupied, like the others, in bowing before impressive-looking sticks of wood; dishonestly taking time for his speculations, while the others are patriotically witch-finding. So the other higher and nobler savages know about the few regularized vessels: know when to expect them; have their periodicities all worked out; just about when vessels will pass, or eclipse each other--explaining that all vagaries were due to atmospheric conditions. They'd come out strong in explaining. You can't read a book upon savages without noting what resolute explainers they are. They'd say that all this mechanism was founded upon the mutual attraction of the vessels--deduced from the fall of a monkey from a palm tree--or, if not that, that devils were pushing the vessels--something of the kind. Storms. Debris, not from these vessels, cast up by the waves. Disregarded. How can one think of something and something else, too?