Part 7

“You, too,” he said and nodded. “You are as light as a veil and dainty and white and innocent. The poets sing of you and you make little children cough. But you are the same that burst the mountain and destroyed my land. I watched you and discovered you and caught you and put you in my engine; and now you must toil for my descendants the wide world over.”

The thunder rolled in the distance. There came long and deep peals. Now and again, a flash of lightning gleamed and lit up the darkness. And the voices spoke again:

“It is thunder, Two-Legs ... it is lightning.... You do not know what that is. No one knows what it is.”

“The world is full of mighty, secret forces ... mightier than the wind ... harder to understand than steam.”

“The ox and the horse tremble before the thunder and the lightning. Two-Legs and all his descendants tremble wherever the thunder-storm reaches. There is more between heaven and earth than Two-Legs knows of.”

The storm came nearer. The thunder pealed and the lightning-flashes crackled. Those who lived close came running to Two-Legs’ house in great alarm:

“Father Two-Legs, what shall we do?” they cried. “God’s wrath is upon us.... Look, look, His fire has struck the house yonder. Now it’s burning; it is all in flames!”

Two-Legs did not look at the blazing house, but up at the clouds, where the thunder pealed and the lightning-flashes darted:

“That is not God’s wrath,” he said. “It is a strange force up there in the clouds ... stronger than the wind ... stronger than Steam. Oh, if I could catch it and compel it to serve me, as I compel the ox and the horse and the others!”

They heard what he said and looked at one another in affright.

Much as they honoured and loved him, they thought that this was madman’s talk. For how could any one dream of taking the terrible lightning into his service?

“Two-Legs has grown old,” said one to the other. “He is in his dotage and does not know what he is saying.”

Two-Legs did not listen to them, but continued to gaze at the storm overhead:

“Look! See how the lightning darts!” he said. “In a second, it darts from one horizon to the other!... Oh, if I could put it into my carriage!”

They recoiled from him, so frightened were they at his words.

“Look! See how the lightning shines!” he said. “In a second, it is as light as bright noonday!... Oh, if I could catch the lightning’s light and hold it fast and compel it to shine peacefully for human beings!”

One of the elders went up to him and laid his hand on his shoulder:

“Two-Legs,” he said, “the success you have had has driven you mad. Your talk is foolish. You are tempting God.”

“God kindled the lightning and God kindled my understanding,” said Two-Legs. “He gave me the one that I might explore the other. Go away and mind your own business and leave me alone.”

They went away. Two-Legs stood and gazed till the last lightning had vanished from the sky.

2

One day, Two-Legs sat on his bench, looking at a boy who was running about and playing with a piece of amber.

The boy rubbed it against his breeches to make it bright. Then he held it up in the air and rejoiced to see it shine so prettily.

Just then, a fluff of seamews down came flying and fastened on the amber. Another came ... and another ... and more still. As soon as they came near the amber, they hurried and settled on it.

“Look, look!” said the boy and laughed with amusement. “There’s a spirit in the amber! When I rub it on my breeches, the spirit comes out and catches the little fluffs.”

Two-Legs took the amber from the boy and looked at it. He rubbed it and caught the fluffs. He held it close to husks and little bits of paper.

“Look, the spirit catches them too!” said the boy and clapped his hands.

More came and looked on. They told it to others, who left their work and came and stood and stared at Two-Legs and the amber.

“Is it a spirit, Father Two-Legs?” asked one of the elders.

“A mighty spirit,” said Two-Legs. “A new and rare spirit. I do not know him. Go to your work and leave me alone, so that I can explore him.”

“Give the spirit a name, Father Two-Legs,” said the man who had spoken before.

Two-Legs reflected that the people in the part of the world where he was then living called amber electron.

Then he told them that they might call the spirit of the amber Electricity.

3

From that day, Two-Legs collected as much amber on the beach as he could find.

He rubbed it and saw that then the spirit constantly came forth and seized upon the little things near by. He put his ear to it and listened, but could hear nothing. He tasted it and smelt it; he broke it to pieces and gazed at it with his old eyes, but could discover nothing:

“The spirit is hiding from me,” he said. “But I shall find him, I shall find him!”

It occurred to him one day that the strange spirit might dwell elsewhere than in the amber.

He began to rub a glass tube and shouted aloud for joy when the spirit at once appeared and seized upon the down and husks and shreds of paper. He took a piece of sulphur and rubbed it and exulted when just the same thing happened. But, in a little while, the spirit disappeared from the amber, the glass tube and the sulphur alike and did not come back until he rubbed them again.

He made himself a big sulphur ball, with an iron bar through the middle. The iron bar was fixed between two stakes, so that he could turn the ball with a handle which was at one end of the bar.

Now, when he turned the handle and laid his hand on the ball, he saw that the little fluffs which flew in the air at that moment stuck to the ball and, immediately after, flew out into the air, as though the spirit had pushed them away. He turned the handle briskly and the fluffs danced about the ball. One of them flew on his nose and stayed there for a little while and then flew back to the ball again.

“The spirit dwells in me too,” said Two-Legs, gladly. “I believe he is everywhere and in everything, if only one could manage to call him forth from his hiding-place. Now I will summon the whole tribe and show them something which they have never seen.”

He sent word round and they came and stood in crowds about his house. Then he asked for the little boy who had played with the amber on the beach and been the first of all to call forth the mysterious spirit:

“You deserve the honour of sharing in this day,” he said. “You all remember the spirit to whom I gave the name of Electricity?”

“We remember him,” said the oldest of those present. “If you have anything good to tell us about him, we shall be pleased to hear it. If it is anything bad, then keep it to yourself and we will flee to a new country where the spirit does not dwell.”

“The spirit is neither bad nor good,” said Two-Legs. “He is a force ... a strange, mysterious force, which I have not yet succeeded in discovering. I do not know if he is worth conquering and giving into your service even as I gave you the ox and the horse, the wind and Steam. I do not know how I am to conquer him. But I do know that it is not possible for one of us to flee from the electric spirit. For he dwells not only in the amber as you saw. He can take up his abode everywhere and in everything ... even in me ... even in every one of you.”

They pressed close together and gazed at him in alarm.

“Watch me now,” said Two-Legs. “Dismiss all your fears and look in wonder at what I shall show you.”

Two-Legs hung the little boy up between two ropes, so that he swung in the air at some height above the ground. Before him, from another cord, hung a glass tube. On the ground under him stood a bowl with little pieces of paper.

“I shall now rub the glass until the spirit comes forth,” said Two-Legs. “When that is done, the boy will touch the glass with one hand. The other he will hold at a distance above the bowl with the shreds of paper.”

He rubbed the glass tube and the boy did as he said.

“Look ... look!” said Two-Legs.

They stared and shouted with surprise. All the bits of paper leapt up and hung in the hand which the boy held over the dish.

“Do you see that?” asked Two-Legs. “He is electric. The spirit has taken up his abode in him.... Can you all see it?”

The oldest and cleverest bent over the boy and stared and talked of the remarkable thing that had happened. They did not understand it and shook their heads. But the others were seized with frenzy and clamoured against Two-Legs:

“It is magic!” they shouted. “Father Two-Legs is a magician! He is tempting God and killing the poor boy with his tricks!”

“You are fools,” said Two-Legs. “You talk of what you do not understand. Go away and leave me alone, while I enquire into the mighty spirit of Electricity. You can come again in a twelvemonth. Then I shall show you much stranger things than you have seen to-day.”

They went on clamouring and crowded round Two-Legs, threatened him with their clenched fists and abusing him:

“Father Two-Legs must die!” they cried. “He will bring misfortune upon us all, with his magic! He calls forth spirits whom he cannot lay! Let us kill him before he has brought down God’s wrath upon us!”

The elders placed themselves between Two-Legs and the infuriated people. They reminded them of his venerable age and of all the good which he had done to his kinsfolk. They talked until, at length, they persuaded the others to go, though they still muttered and cast angry glances at Two-Legs. The mother of the boy whom he had made electric ran and seized him by his long white beard:

“If ever again you use my boy for your odious tricks, I’ll kill you!” she screamed.

“You are only a silly woman,” said Two-Legs and pushed her away. “If I taught your boy the secret of what you call my magic, he would make a name for himself that would be spoken with respect so long as the world lasts. However, go away and take him with you too. No harm has happened to him; and to-morrow he will have forgotten all about it.”

She went, hand in hand with the boy, who did not cry, but kept his eyes on Two-Legs. When they were gone, the elders told him he had better move into another country if he wanted to continue searching for the electric spirit, otherwise it would end in this, that the people would kill him one day, when the elders were not there to defend him.

Two-Legs stood and rubbed the glass tube with a piece of leather and paid no heed to them. They had to say it once more before he heard. Then he merely nodded and said:

“I will go away this very night and seek another country where the people are cleverer.”

4

By midnight he was ready to start. He had nothing with him but his sulphur ball and some other things which he needed for his labours. He hid these under his cloak, put out the light of his house and prepared to leave.

Suddenly he heard a noise in the alley where the others lived. He sat down and waited, not because he was afraid of them, but because he did not choose to talk with fools any more. And, while he sat and waited, he took his sulphur ball from under his cloak and began to rub it with his hand, as he had done thousands of times before. He gazed at it, though he could see nothing, for the night was pitch-dark.

All at once, he started up with a cry.

He dropped the ball, found it again, with difficulty, on the floor and began to rub and rub like mad.

Now he saw it quite plainly: light came against his hand when he rubbed. Time after time, he rubbed and, each time, he saw the light.

He was so greatly excited that he could hardly breathe. He closed his eyes and opened them again. No, it was not imagination: the light came as soon as he rubbed the sulphur ball.

He held the ball up to his ear, while he rubbed and rubbed like mad.... Now he plainly heard a faint crackling....

Then he jumped up and sang and cried and laughed and danced round the room like a young man crazy with delight:

“It’s the lightning!... It’s the thunder!” he shouted, exultantly. “I have called them and they come at my bidding.”

The door opened and the little boy whom he had made electric stood on the threshold:

“Father Two-Legs, will you take me with you where you are going?” he asked.

“Do you want to come?” asked Two-Legs.

“Yes,” said the little boy. “I want to stay with you and go where you go. I am not afraid of you. You shall teach me your magic and, one day, I shall become a wise and great man, like yourself.”

“You do not know what you are doing,” said Two-Legs. “I am no magician, but I have seen what no other man has seen. You do not know what has happened to me this night.... I have rubbed my sulphur ball and have produced lightning from it and thunder. They lie in my hand. I can call them forth when I please. They are only quite tiny as yet and weak, but I know that, one day, they will grow strong, like those up there in the clouds. Do you dare?”

“I dare,” said the boy.

“Then come,” said Two-Legs.

He took him by the hand and went out with him into the dark night, to find a country where there were fewer fools.

5

Two-Legs found a new country, where he and the boy settled. The people honoured him for his age and wisdom and knew nothing about his magic arts. But he occupied himself with them as before, sought and listened and thought ... whether he could sooner or later lay hold of the strange spirit who was so weak in the amber and the glass tube and the sulphur and so powerful in the thunder-storm.

Every evening, when the day’s work was done, he sat and talked with the boy, who grew in age and understanding. They were happiest when the thunder pealed. Then they felt that the mighty spirit was nearer to them: not only up there, where lightning crackled, but in the air and in everything round about.

“There is much electricity up there and only a little here below with us,” he said. “That is why the flashes strike down upon the ground.... Look, there is one darting from a cloud that has too much to one that has too little.... Oh, I understand, I understand! It is like the water that lies at a different level in two ponds: if I dig a canal between them, it will flow from that which has more into that which has less and, a moment after, it will be at the same height in both. Boy, boy, one day I will collect so much electricity that I can use it for the greatest things!”

“That you will, since you say so, Father Two-Legs,” said the boy. “But will you tell me how it is that the mighty spirit dwells in a fragile glass tube like this and not in that thick iron bar? If I were the spirit, I would rather dwell in the strong bar. But he is not there. I have rubbed the iron till my arms ached, but the spirit did not come.”

“You may depend upon it that he is there,” said Two-Legs. “If only we could find the right means to call him forth, I believe that there is more of him in iron and in copper and other metals than in anything else. Just look how weak he is in the glass tube and the amber: he comes when I rub, catches the little fluffs and is gone again at once. No, if we can charm him from the iron, then we shall see him in his might.”

6

One day, the boy went into the mountains and found a lodestone, which he thought looked odd. He took it home to Two-Legs, who examined it long and closely, as he examined everything. Without thinking of it further, he began to rub the thick iron bar with the lodestone and saw, to his surprise, that the stone clung to the iron:

“Boy, what have you found?” he cried.

Henceforth, he thought of nothing but iron and copper and other metals.

He forged himself bars of iron, large and small, rubbed them with the lodestone and saw that they became electric. The spirit was in them and the spirit came out of them, but differently and not as in the glass tube and the amber and the sulphur ball.

It was no use for him to come with fluffs of down and little shreds of paper. The spirit did not catch at them. But, when he came with iron, the spirit caught hold of it and held it ever so tight.

“That is the proper, powerful spirit,” said the boy joyfully.

Two-Legs saw also that the spirit was only at the two ends of the bar which he rubbed with the lodestone. The spirit ran into the ends and stayed there and caught hold of the pieces of iron which he held out to him. In the middle of the bar there was no spirit.

One day, as he was working with a very thick bar which he had rubbed, it seemed to him that it moved without his touching it. Then he took a vessel of water, put a cork in the water and the iron bar on top of the cork.

“Look, look, it’s turning!” cried the boy.

And so it was. It turned one end to the north and the other to the south. Two-Legs shifted it, but it turned back to the same position as soon as he let go. He experimented with the other bars, but they did exactly the same. One day, he laid two side by side, each on its own cork, and saw that the north end of the one and the south end of the other attracted each other. When he brought the two north ends or the two south ends together, they at once pushed each other away.

“Look, look!” cried the boy.

Two-Legs sat, plunged in thought, and looked. Then he made a little bar, rubbed it with the lodestone and put it on a pivot, so that it could turn easily as it pleased:

“Go and give this thing to the skipper,” he said. “When he goes far out to sea and cannot sight land anywhere, he will always be able to see by it which is north and which is south and direct his course accordingly.”

Thus Two-Legs invented the compass.

But he forgot it as soon as the boy had gone with it. He thought how much stronger the spirit was in the iron than in the other things from which he had produced it and pondered how he should make the spirit obey him with all his power.

“I found the stone that did it,” said the boy, when he returned. “Give it a name, Father Two-Legs.”

As the country where he was then living was called Magnesia, Two-Legs called the stone the magnet. And he showed the boy how he could make any piece of iron into a magnet by rubbing it with another iron in which the spirit was:

“Oh, if I could only draw the spirit from up there, in the thunder-clouds, down hither with a magnet!” said Two-Legs.

He made a kite, such as boys play with, and gave it a huge long string. At the top of it he put an iron tip. Then he and the boy went and waited for the thunder to come one day; and, at last, it came.

When the thunder-storm was exactly over head, he flew the kite in the air. They stood and watched it till it disappeared right up in the thunder-clouds.

“Now hold the string, boy, if you dare,” said Two-Legs.

“I dare,” said the boy.

The lightning crackled and the thunder crashed. In the midst of it, Two-Legs, with his fingers, touched the string of the kite; and a great spark leapt upon his finger. He touched it again and again; and, each time, a new spark leapt out.

“Look, look!” he said. “I have drawn down the lightning from up there!”

“Oh, Father Two-Legs!” said the boy, shaking with fear. “Suppose the lightning had killed you!”

“It could have done,” said Two-Legs. “To play with the mighty forces of nature is dangerous. That is why I so often asked you if you were not afraid. I once had a helper who was killed by the spirit of Steam before I had learnt to conquer him. It may happen that you will fare as he did. I know myself that I am never safe from death. But I would rather die fighting to conquer the spirits than at home, in my bed, of disease.”

“So would I,” said the boy and drew himself up. “Only, I meant ... only, I don’t understand.... The lightning once struck and burnt my mother’s house. It killed my brother and my little sister; and all that we possessed was burnt: that was a calamity. Is there always a calamity when the lightning strikes? If so, why do you want to bring it down? Do you think you can imprison it and use it as you used Steam?”

“No,” said Two-Legs. “I don’t think that. I don’t know how it is to be done, but I dream, day and night, that, sooner or later, I shall succeed in preparing lightning as strong as that up there, but different nevertheless.... I want to rule over it and imprison it and compel it to labour in my service. It is only a dream as yet. It was not the lightning either that I drew down with my kite: only a little spark of the spirit that flames up there.”

“Yes, Father Two-Legs,” said the boy. “But, if you can catch a little spark, you can also catch a bigger one ... and a bigger one still ... and, at last, the whole lightning.”

Two-Legs gazed at the boy. Then he took him in his arms and kissed him:

“You’re a glorious boy,” he said. “You found the magnet and knew nothing about it. Now, in your ignorance, you have spoken a great word: come and see what you can make of it.”

7

He forthwith set up a tall pole, close to his house. At the top of it was a metal spike, from which a long iron wire ran far down in the ground. People came and looked at his work and wondered what it meant.

“See,” he said to them. “The pole will catch the lightning when it comes.”

“Do you want to lure the lightning down to the earth ... the bad lightning?” asked one of them. “And close to your house besides?”

“The lightning is not bad,” said Two-Legs.

“Would you have me call it good?” said the man. “It set my barn on fire and burnt it. And there’s a man standing yonder whose wife was killed and all his cattle.”

Two-Legs gave a scornful smile. He quite forgot that he himself had once thought just like that of the wind and of Steam:

“The lightning is neither good nor bad,” he said. “It is a mighty force that comes and darts as it must. I don’t want to lure it down to the earth either. But, if it comes here, over my house, and thinks of striking ... then it will be caught by the spike at the top of the pole and fly down the wire into the earth; and my house will escape.”

“Two-Legs is mad,” said the man. “He is calling the lightning down upon himself.”

The others said the same and then they went away. The boy remained with him and looked at the lightning-conductor. And, when the next thunder-storm came, the lightning struck two farm-houses in the valley and burnt them to the ground. It also struck the pole near Two-Legs’ house and rushed down into the earth, as he had said. This was easy to see by the way in which it had rooted up and flung stones and gravel around.

They came running from every side and saw it and wondered. They bowed low before Two-Legs and honoured his wisdom; and one and all of them set a lightning-conductor beside their houses.

But Two-Legs thought no more of it:

“That’s nothing,” he said. “It is just as when I killed the wild animals. It was a bigger thing when I tamed them and took them into my service. I want to tame the lightning also and make it my servant.”

“Two-Legs wants to tame the lightning,” said one to the other and laughed and thought that he had certainly lost his reason.

“I want to make lightning,” said Two-Legs.

“Two-Legs wants to make lightning,” they said and nudged one another. “Take care it doesn’t strike you!”

They laughed and went away. Two-Legs sat and meditated and thought and did not mind their scorn. The boy sat at his feet.

8

The years passed and the boy grew to be a man. He was always with Two-Legs, listening to his talk, helping him in his work and rejoicing with him each time that he came a step nearer to the goal.

They moved more than once from one country to another. Either it was the folk of the country who drove them away with their foolish fears, when they heard reports or saw sparks come from Two-Legs’ workshop, or else it occurred to him that his labours would meet with better success under another climate. But, whether he was in one place or another, he constantly thought of the same thing: how he was to catch the electric spirit and make him strong, so that he might be useful in man’s service.