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The most Dangerous game is an adventurous and dramatic short story. Rainsford
and General Zaroff are of such opposite character that put together they make
up one of the most exiting stories of the 1920s
Dear. Reader
If you are reading this right now, you most likely have a taste for adventure, an
curiosity for the unknown, and must possess nerves of steal.
And so you, my lucky friend have just walked into the trap of:
A great story.
Paragraph 1 starts of by putting a mental picture in your head.
It is a warm moonless night and a slight cool breeze is blowing. A white yacht is
silently sliding though the warm waters of the Caribbean. On its deck a young man and
an old one, standing side by side, trying to see through the velvety blackness of night.
They talk together for a little while, about hunting and what they are going to
do when they get to South America.
Then the conversation turns to the island that they are passing it is
supposedly called Ship-Trap Island
Then the old man, Whitney, goes back inside and invites the young man,
Rainsford, to go with him. Rainsford declines and says that he would rather
stay outside and smoke his pipe.
All of a sudden a sound startles him. A gun shot! (some where off in the deep
darkness) and then a far away scream of some creature slipping out of this life
into the next. Startled Rainsford jumps up on the rail of the ship hoping to
see where the sound came from. In the excitement of it all he loses his
balance, and falls head first into the water. He struggles to the surface and
tries to call for help but in vain. The yacht slides onward and into the
darkness.
Just then a glimmer of hope shines on the young mans face as he remembers
the words Whitney said that there was land nearby. And with strong strokes
he swims to the shore of a rather large island. Once ashore exhausted, he falls
into a deep sleep.
When Rainsford finally wakes up, he finds (by telling the position of the sun)
that he had slept until
noon. But soon his thoughts turned towards food
After all where there pistol shots, there are men
And with knew vigor Rainsford try’s hacking his way though the thick
underbrush of the jungle, but to no avail. It was soon clear that it would be
easier to go along the beach. He walked a little ways from where he washed
ashore, and then he stops. Some poor destitute soul (he being able to tell by
the amount of grass that was flattened down, and stained red) that some
creature had taken its last stand there. Then something small and shiny caught
the corner of his eye, He bent and picked it up, it was an empty 22cartridge!
An hour later, finds Rainsford hurrying down the beach and into the jungle,
sometimes slipping on a loose stone, or a rotten log. But all the while closely
following a trail of boot prints, that points towards the cliff in which way he
had been going already. Darkness came again, when Rainsford turns a bend in
the path, and there laid out before him, is a giant lofty structure with pointed
towers that shot upwards into the bleak blackness. It must be a mirage though
Rainsford, but that is no mirage.
Rainsford goes up to the giant front door, lifts the peculiarly weird doorknocker
and lets it go with bang! Then suddenly the door silently opens, and Rainsford
has nothing to do but walk in. Once inside, the door again closes. And there
standing behind it was the biggest man Rainsford had ever seen. And there in
his hand is a gun, a gun that is pointed strait at his heart!
Rainsford dearly tries to persuade the man not to shoot him (in the action of
it all Rainsford tells the man his name), and just as the giant is about to pull
the trigger, a man comes down the steps and calls him off.
This man, he soon learns is General Zaroff, and the giant is(his servant) Ivan.
General Zaroff welcomes Rainsford to his home and assures him that he will be
taken care of there. He then directs Ivan to show Rainsford to a room and to
get him a new set of clothes. After all that has taken place, Rainsford and the
General eat dinner together, while they where eating the General and
Rainsford talked about hunting. Then after a little while Zaroff tells him that
he has gotten tired of shooting big game, and that he (Zaroff) had on the
island the most dangerous game a man could hunt. Rainsford expressed his
surprise and then asked what it is? Zaroff did not answer him immediately, but
instead he tells him the story of his childhood and grown life. He ends by
saying “I wanted the ideal animal to hunt,” said the General “so I said to
myself, what are the attributes of an ideal quarry?’ And the answer was, `It
must have courage, be cunning, and above all, it must be able to reason,”
“But there is no animal that can reason” objected Rainsford. “My dear fellow
there is one that can,” says Zaroff. Rainsford suddenly gasps, “You can’t
mean…” “Why yes of course,” answers the General.
Zaroff then invites Rainsford to go hunting with him that night. (For he said
that he had a “big strong black fellow” and that he looked resourceful. He
takes him to see his training school in the dungeon and then to see his new
collection of heads. But Rainsford quickly says that he is very tired after his
long swim. And the General excuses him. Rainsford was then led back to his
room, and locked in. That night Rainsford slept fitfully. Once, when morning
had almost come, he heard deep in the jungle somewhere, a pistol shot.
Rainsford did not see the General till the afternoon of the next day. And
when he finally did appear, he was dressed in hunting clothes.
At lunch Rainsford exclaims “General”, I wish to leave this island at
once! “Raising his eyebrows” “But my dear fellow!” The General protested,
“You only just come. And you've had no hunting,” Rainsford answers “I wish
to go today!” As he said that Rainsford saw the Generals black eyes piercing
him. And then his face brightened as he said, “Tonight we will go hunting you
and I.” Rainsford strongly declined, saying he must to leave the island at
once! Zaroff smiled; “well I think that you would think my game humane,
compared to that of Ivan’s.
Rainsford shuddered, “but you can’t mean!” “Oh but it will be an adventure,
your wit against mine wit, and your skill against mine.”
“But hear is Ivan now!” The General said, “He will provide you with the
proper hunting clothes and food.”
Five hours later finds Rainsford resting in the branches of a big tree with a
thick trunk and screen of leaves almost as thick as a tapestry. He had made a
trail for the General to follow, one that looped around and around in circles.
He then very carefully as to not make any footprints climbed into the tree
that he was now resting in.
All night Rainsford had not slept, but kept watchful alert, then in the gray mist just
before dawn, a bird startled up! Something is creeping its way though the dark jungle,
something so silently moving along only the best ears could hear it. That which was
approaching is a man. The General stopped a few feet from the base of the tree, lit his
pipe, and then slowly inch by inch looked up into the ancient oak. His eyes stopped a
foot from where Rainsford lay, frozen to the branch. The Zaroff smiling, and then
slowly turning around and walked back into the brush. Rainsford listened till the foot
steps faded into the distance. He then got down as fast as possible, and struck off into
the woods again. Three hundred yards from his hiding place he stops where a huge dead tree
leans precariously on a smaller, one. Throwing off his sack of food, Rainsford took his knife from its
sheath and began to work with all his energy. At last the job was done. Rainsford walks a hundred
yards away and then crouches down behind a tree to wait. He did not have to wait long. The hunt
had begun; following the trail with the sureness of a bloodhound came General Zaroff. Nothing
escaped those searching black eyes, no crushed blade of grass, no bent twig, no matter how small.
So intent was the Cossack on his stalking that he is upon the trap Rainsford. His foot touches the
protruding bough that is the trigger. Even as he touches it, the general sensed his danger and
leaps back with the agility of a deer. But he is not quite quick enough; the dead tree, delicately
adjusted to rest on the cut living one, crashes down and strikes the general a glancing blow on the
shoulder as it falls; If not for his awareness, he would have been smashed beneath it. He
staggered, but he would not fall; nor did he drop his revolver. He stood there, rubbing his injured
shoulder, and Rainsford, with fear again gripping his heart, heard the general's mocking laugh ring
through the jungle. “Rainsford!" said the general, "If you are within sound of my voice, as I
think you are, let me congratulate you. Not many men know how to make a Malay mancatcher.
Luckily for me I, too, have hunted in Malacca. You are proving very interesting, Mr. Rainsford. I
am now going to have my wound dressed; it's only a slight bruise. But I shall be back. I shall be
back." And with that the General limped away. Rainsford takes up his flight again. Dusk comes, and
still he presses on. The ground grows softer and softer, under his moccasins; the vegetation grows
damper and denser; insects bite him savagely. But still he presses on.
Then, as he steps forward once more, his foot sinks into the ooze. He tries to wrench it back, but
the mud sucks at his foot as if it were a giant leech. With considerable effort, he tears his foot
loose. He knows where he is now, Death Swamp. The softness of the earth has given him an idea.
He steps back from the quicksand a dozen feet or so and, then like a mole, he begins to dig. The
pit grows deeper then deeper still; when finely it is above his shoulders, he climbs out. From some
hard saplings cut stakes and then sharpened them to a fine point. These stakes he plants in the
bottom of the pit with the points sticking up. Then with flying fingers he weaves a rough carpet of
weeds and branches and with it he covers the mouth of the pit. Aching with weariness, then he
crouches behind the stump of a tree, to wait for Zaroff.
He knows his pursuer is coming. It seems to Rainsford that the general was coming with unusual
swiftness; for he hears the pad of soft feet on the ground. Rainsford, crouching there, can not see
the general, nor can the Zaroff see the pit. Then he hears the sharp crackle of the breaking
branches as the cover of the pit gives way; he hears the chilling scream of pain as the pointed
stakes find their mark. He leaps up from his place of concealment. Then he cowered back. There
three or four feet from the pit a man is standing, with an electric torch in his hand.
"You've done well, Rainsford," the voice of the General calls. "Your Burmese tiger pit has claimed
one of my best dogs. Again you score. I think, Mr. Rainsford, Ill see what you can do against my
whole pack. I'm going home for now. Thank you for a most amusing evening."
At daybreak, Rainsford is startled up by sound that made him know that he has new things to learn
about fear. It is a faint distant sound, and wavering, recognizes it. It is the baying of a pack of
hounds. For a moment he stands there thinking. An idea that held a wild chance comes to him, and
then he heads away from the swamp. The baying draws nearer, then still nearer. Once when he is
at the peek of a ridge, Rainsford climbs a tall tree. Not a quarter of a mile away, he can see the
bush moving. Straining his eyes, he saw the lean figure of General Zaroff; and just before him
Rainsford made out another figure whose wide shoulders surging through the tall jungle weeds; it is
the giant Ivan. He seems to be pulled forward by some unseen force; Rainsford senses that he
must be holding the dogs on leashes.
They will be on him any minute now. His mind works frantically. He thinks of a native trick he had
learned in Uganda. Rainsford slides down the tree .He catches hold of a springy young sapling and
to it he fastens his hunting knife, with the blade pointing down the trail; with a bit of wild
grapevine he ties back the sapling. Then he run for his life. The hounds bay as they hit the fresh
scent.
The bay of the hounds stops abruptly, and Rainsford’s heart stops too. They reached the knife
.He shimmies excitedly up a tree and looks back. His pursuers have stopped. He sees in the
shadowed valley that General Zaroff is still on his feet. But Ivan is not. The knife, driven by the
recoil of the springing tree, has not wholly failed. Rainsford had hardly tumbled to the ground
when the pack took up the cry again. He dashes along. There is a blue gap showing between the
trees dead ahead. Ever nearer draws the hounds. Rainsford forces himself on toward that gap. He
reaches it. It is the shore of the sea. Across a cove he sees the gloomy gray stone of the
chateau. Twenty feet below him the sea rumbles and hisses. Rainsford hesitated. He hears the
hounds. Then he leaps far out into the sea. When the Zaroff reaches the place by the sea, the
he stops. And for some minutes he stands regarding the blue-green expanse of water. He shrugs
his shoulders, turns around and starts home. General Zaroff had an exceedingly good dinner in his
great dining hall that evening. Only two slight annoyances keeps him from perfect enjoyment. One
is the thought that it will be difficult to replace Ivan; the other is that his quarry has escaped
him; of course, the American hasn't fairly played the game. After dinner, in his library he reads
to soothe himself from the works of Marcus Aurelius. At ten he goes up to his bedroom. “I am
very tired”, he said to himself, as he locks himself in. There is a little moonlight, so, before
turning on his light, he goes to the window and looks down at the courtyard. He can see the great
hounds, and he calls, "Better luck another time," to them. Then he switches on the light. A man,
who has been hiding in the curtains of the bed, is standing there."Rainsford!" cried the General.
"How in God's name did you get here?" "Swam," said Rainsford. "I found it quicker than walking
through the jungle. “The General sucks in his breath and smiled. "I congratulate you," he replies.
"You have won the game."Rainsford does not smile. "I am still a beast at bay," he says, in a low,
hoarse voice. "Get ready, General Zaroff."The General makes one of his deepest bows. "I see," he
says. "Splendid! One of us is to furnish a repast for the hounds. The other will sleep in this very
excellent bed. On guard, Rainsford."
. . . Rainsford decides, He has never slept in a better bed.