The country of the blind – II

I

The days passed by, and Nunez was still far from being king of the blind. In

spite of his best efforts, he did not succeed in making the blind men understand

the marvel of sight. “What is blind?” they would ask carelessly. “There is no

such word as see,” They would say. Nunez still hopes to show them the practical

value of sight. Here again, he was far from being successful, because in spite of

their blindness they were far superior to him in all matters relating to life in the

valley. They were about their little world with perfect ease and confidence; and

they could work at night while Nunez could not. They had highly sensitive

hearing and smell; a dozen steps away could hear Nunez’s slightest movements.

They came to regard him a clumsy and foolish person who had to be taught, and

laughed at his claims to superiority.

One day he seized his spade, ready to hit one or two of them and so show

the superiority of a man who could see him. But then he could not bring himself

to hit a blind man in cold blood. He stood hesitating. In a moment the blind men

knew that he had snatched up the spade.

“Put the spade down, Bogota,” said one of them. Sudden fear seized Nunez.

He turned and ran across a meadow living a track in the grass. With a sure sense

the blind men ran after him, bending down and feeling their way along the track.

He called out a loud, “look here, I am going to do what I like in this valley.

Do you hear? I am going to do what I like and go where I like!”

“Put down that spade, Bogota, and come of the grass!” said one. They ran to

him from all sides.

“I’ll hurt you; leave me alone,” Nunez cried, spade in hand, trying them,

because he really hated to have to hit a blind man. But they closed in on him;

down came his spade and a blind man fell down Nunez ran, not knowing where.

The blind man followed him. He ran on him and on, and got beyond the valley

and upon the rocks. There he stayed for two days and nights without food or

shelter. On the second day, he began to tremble with cold and he felt afraid.

Finally he came down and talked to the blind men.

“I was mad. You know my mind is yet unformed.”

“Do you think you can still see?”

“No, that was foolishness. The word means nothing.” Then he burst into

tears and said, “Before you ask me anything more, give me some food, or shall I

die.”

II

He expected dreadful punishments, but the blind people regarded his rebel-

lion nearly as one more proof of his stupidity and inferiority. They only whipped

him and set him to do the simplest and heaviest work they had for any one to do;

and he, seen no other way of leaving, did what he was told.

So Nunez became a citizen of the country of the blind, and the world beyond

began to fade his mind slowly. He became familiar with many of the people of

the valley. There was Yacob, his master; there was Pedro, Yacob’s youngest

daughter. The young man of the valley did not care for her, because she had a

clear-cut face and lacked the satisfying smoothness that was their idea of beauty;

but Nunez thought her beautiful at first, and then the most beautiful thing in the

whole creation.

He watched for her he saw opportunities of doing a little service. Once at a

holiday gathering they sat side by side in the starlight, and the music was sweet.

He held her hand very tenderly.

Soon in many little ways he knew that she cared for him.

He went to her one day when she was sitting in the summer moonlight,

spinning. The light made her a thing of silver and mystery. He sat down at her

feet, and, in a tender voice, told her how he loved her and how beautiful she

seemed to him. She gave him no clear reply, but he was sure his words pleased

her. After that they were often together. Timidly, and with hesitation, and he

talked to her of sight. She seemed mysteriously delighted and it seemed to him

that she completely understood.

III

He took courage, and proposed to her. Then he asked Yacob and the elders

for permission to marry her. From the first there was great opposition the mar-

riage. Old Yacob shook his head when the proposal was mentioned to him.

“Listen, my dear,” he said to his daughter, “he is a stupid fellow, and idiot.

He was a very peculiar, and can’t do anything right.”

“I know,” wept medina-sarote; “but he is better than he was. And he’s strong,

dear father, and a kind-stronger and kinder than any other men in the world. And

he loves me-and, father, I love him.”

Old Yacob had tenderness for his youngest daughter. Besides, he liked his

servant, Nunez, in spite of his stupidity. So he went and sat in the windowless

council chamber and discussed the matter with him. They talked for a long time;

finally one of the elder, who thought deeply, has an idea. This man was the great

doctor among these people and a thinker with an inventive mind. He proposed a

plan for curing Nunez of his peculiarities. He said,” the particular soft organs,

the chances are that he will get completely well and become quite an admirable

citizen.”

“Thank God for science!” said old Yacob, and went immediately to tell

Nunez of his happy hopes. But to his surprise, Nunez received the news rather

coldly.

“My world is sight,” he said to medina-sarote. “There are the beautiful

things,” he continued, “The little flowers, the trees and the far sky with the woolly

clouds floating. And there is you. For you alone it is good to have eyes! You

don’t want me to loose my sight, do you?” Hesitating she said, “I know it is

pretty, this talk about sight-it’s your imagination; I love it but now....” She paused.

He saw that she was struggling to say what she has in mind. He was full of pity

for her lack of understanding. Put his arms around her and they sat for a time in

silence.

“If I were to consent to this?” he said at last.

“Oh, if you would!” she said, crying wildly. “If only you would!”

For her sake he consented in the end.

IV

For a week before the operation that was to removed his inferiority and

raise him to the level of a blind citizen, Nunez knew nothing of sleep. He had

given his consent, and still was unhappy. The week passed. The sun rose and his

last day of vision began for him. He had a few minutes with Medina-sarote

before she went to bed.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “I shall see no more.”

“Dear heart!” she said, “You are going through it for my sake.”

He looked at her tender face for the last time.

“Good bye,” he whispered, “Good-bye.”

She could hear his footsteps as he went away. Something in their sound

made her burst into tears. And she cried like little child.

At first his idea go to a lonely place, and remain there till the time for the

operation came; but as he went, he lifted up his eye and saw the morning like an

angle in golden armour, marching down the hillside ...He went forward looking

at the glorious sight, passed beyond the valley and out upon the rocks, and his

eyes, were always upon the sunlit ice and snow.

He thought of that great free world he was parted from, the world that was

his own hills and valleys and plains, and Bogota, his home town, with its places

and white houses .He thought of the vaster world beyond, forests and rivers and

desert places, and the limitless sea with its ships sailing round the world. And

there one could see the sky, not such a disc as one saw it here, but an arch of

immeasurable blue in which the circling stars were floating.

His eyes examined the great curtain of the mountains carefully. Was there a

way out? If he went up that narrow mountain pass, he might come out high among

those short pine trees. And then? Then he might find a way around that precipice

and he would be out upon the bight snow, half way up those beautiful mountains

.He looked back at the village .He thought of Medina-sarote, but now she had

became small and unimportant to him. He turned his eyes again toward the moun-

tain wall with the light of the sun on it. Then very carefully he began to climb.

When sunset came he was no longer climbing, but he was no longer

climbing, but he was far and high. His hands and legs were stiff and blood-

stained, but he lay at his ease there was a smile on his face .He lay quite inactive

there, smiling as if he was satisfied merely to have escaped from the valley of

the blind where he was thought to be the King.

The sunset in bright red, and the night came, and still he lay peacefully

contented under the cold stars.