Diary From Gulliver's Travels

A lost or deliberately misplaced manuscript concerning Gulliver's Travels was discovered in the records office of the Dublin University Literature Department. It was dated July 11th, 1757, exactly one year after Gulliver returned from his journey to the land of the Houyhnhnms.

I only wish you could witness the scene in front of me. Unfortunately, you cannot. I have no doubt you will find what I am about to report, unconscionable and unbelievable.

I grew bored as the year of my return to my home progressed, although I received some degree of satisfaction speaking to my horses in their language, which I was privileged to learn and continue to learn. However, the yearning to return to the world's oceans and discover new lands grew within me. I had no choice but to take to the seas once more.

I set out on a ship named The Venture on September 5th in the year of our Lord 1757. We had been sailing for almost a month when the skies darkened and threatened the ship with a terrible storm. That evening every man on board prayed to his individual god to save his soul. When the storm cleared I found myself alone on a deserted beach. In the distance, I observed the land rise into a series of hillocks on which a few palm trees were growing.

Luckily, I suffered only a few mild abrasions and therefore, decided to reconnoiter the surrounding area to secure shelter for the night. As I approached the trees I became apprehensive. I heard strange, almost human-sounding noises in my immediate surroundings, yet I saw no one and no discernible movement. I stopped when I came to an area that had an amount of dry brush. I was sure the brush would make a bright fire and decided it was a good place to set up camp for the night.

Fortunately, the one item I managed to save was my stone striker, so I was fairly positive I would get a flame started without too much trouble. My striker performed admirably and soon I warmed myself in front of a healthy, bright, cheery fire. Such pleasurable emotions surrounded me at the success of the warm amber glow that I almost missed the movement in a nearby palm tree. I could not, however, avoid the ever-strengthening odor of melting chocolate that now assailed my nostrils and demanded my immediate attention. I looked around and was temporarily shocked to see what looked like a small child staring back at me, shivering in fear. The creature had such a striking appearance that I had to rub my eyes to assure myself I was not hallucinating. This creature was completely white in color. Its facial features were also all white, including its eyes and tongue which kept on darting in and out of its mouth.

About thirty yards behind the creature I heard more rustling sounds. I stared in disbelief when, from beside the rustling fire, more of these chocolate beings appeared. Four of the creatures differed from the white one in color only. They looked as though they were made of milk chocolate, whilst the fifth, who was darker than the others, stood a little to the side as though to heighten his importance.

At their sudden appearance, the white creature screamed horribly as though in fear for its life and began to stumble forward toward me. It stopped, looked around, then back at me, shivered, screamed, and then fell to the ground-hugging itself in the fetal position. I stood transfixed on the spot, unsure what, if anything I should do next.

The five creatures approached the white one. At a nod from the darkest, two of the beings grabbed the white beast, hauled it upright, grabbed a hand each, and walked in step behind their leader. They all approached me. The leader made a hand movement that left me in no doubt that I should join them. Although in a mild state of shock, I decided it prudent to walk along with them as I was in no mood to create any antagonism between us.

After hiking for about fifteen minutes my nostrils were assailed with the most pungent chocolate odor I had ever experienced. Normally I would find the smell of chocolate pleasant, but this odor was so overwhelming I felt a great need to rid myself of my stomach contents. A loud, very human-sounding whistle was coming from some nearby trees. I looked toward the area the noise was emanating from. Suddenly, numerous chocolate people appeared. At first, I thought there must be about forty creatures, but after closer scrutiny, I realized there were many more of them, possibly over a hundred. Each creature approached the darker-colored leader and lowered its forehead to touch the feet of the leader. At a tap on the back of their necks, everyone stood up and with a jerking motion of their heads, proceeded to spit at the white prisoner enclosed in the cage.

The spit liquid comes spewing out of their mouths. It is a dirty gray color. A look of misery showed on the white animal's face every time a drop of spittle landed upon its person. It is clear that the intended insult fulfilled its mission. What occurred next rendered me shocked and speechless for several seconds. I was standing about twenty yards away when the leader of the community looked over at me. He made a sign that I could not mistake in any language, ordering me to approach. I attempted a questioning look when in strongly accented but unmistakable English; he said, "You, afraid no need. Here please you be next to me".

I walked toward him and asked the obvious question "How do you know my language?" He answered, "You are not only human here to be." I nodded my understanding and immediately asked the question that was uppermost but certainly not the only one I had in mind. "Why is the white creature a prisoner?" He responded with what I perceived to be an amazed expression. "What? Look at him. He is all white. Bad color. Lowest man. Not to live. Must die. We pure dark, Not evil white."

"So", I said, "In this place, if you are white in color, you have been deemed an inferior species?" "Ah, you no understand. He is not only outside white. He is inside white also. Only one to be worse than that." "What do you consider worse than white all through? Do you have such a creature as part white and part dark?" At this, the whole community started to talk in what I can only call horrified whispers. The leader called for quiet and it was then that I realized our discussion had been understood by every creature in the vicinity. The leader answered me in a quiet yet upset tone. "No dark and white together. Baby born two colors killed and eaten by parents. Most important law from my people". His words were an abomination to my senses. I tried not to show my disgust as on my travels I have experienced many cultural differences to my own, but devouring one's own newly born child was beyond my understanding. Only my fear of alienating these creatures and suffering who knows what fate, stopped me from showing my disgust with their cultural differences. "Soon you see what is worse than all white."

As I stood next to the leader I heard a rumbling noise as though thunder was approaching. The noise got louder and I noticed that at the same time, the surrounding natives quieted down. I strained my eyes to look toward the approaching sound. About a dozen creatures, six on each side approached us, pulling a small cart on wheels. In the middle of the cart stood a chocolate being tied by its hands and feet, with a rope attached to a collar around its neck. The other end of the rope was tied to one of the cart's wheels to tighten and loosen by turns as the wheel revolved. The prisoner within the cart stared straight ahead with a blank look as though it is beyond any thoughts or feelings.

The six creatures stopped in front of us and each, in turn, stepped forward, knelt, and like the others before, placed their foreheads onto the feet of the leader. The chief then pulled at a section in the side of the cart and pulled it open. He stepped back and two of the others entered the cart, untied the attached ropes, and dragged the prisoner forward. A small solid-looking table was then brought forward. The prisoner's guard lifted and placed him on the table so he could be clearly seen by everyone.

The chief then picked up a thin piece of what looked like a scraper used to clean an animal's hide. He stepped forward, took a firm hold of the creature's wrists, and in a strange language that I must profess ignorance of, loudly announced to his people,

 "Achshav atem tiru mah anachnu osim li aileh she minasim lhagiah ligova yotair gavoa mahem." He finished speaking and the onlookers stood silently. I noticed that as they breathed out, the chocolate odor, which I had almost forgotten, was suddenly wafting all around me.

The leader then took the scraping tool in his left hand while pulling the left arm of the prisoner to a horizontal position in front of him. There was a sudden gasp by the onlookers including myself, as he used the scraper to slice a layer of what I can only call flesh, away from the prisoner's arm. At this, the prisoner came out of his trance and screamed louder than anything I ever had the misfortune to witness before. The crowd started to call out in unison "Yotair, Yotair." I had an idea what the word meant, but I had a strong impression they were calling for more. If that was the case they were not disappointed. The leader continued peeling off layers of the chocolate-looking skin when the crowd started to scream hysterically. I looked at the prisoner and was astonished to find a liquid pouring out of his arm. Under normal circumstances, I would have called this liquid blood. Although it acted like blood and as I noticed a short time later coagulated as blood, it was of the purest white color I had ever seen.

As the white liquid drained from the creature's arm, the actual body seemed to fold up into itself.

The leader then turned to me and said, "Now understand you. That is evil trying to fool my kind. Soon no more left. Is a good thing. We pure will be soon. So now you leave and return. Tell other humans they are welcome to be here. Is soon very safe. No more evil beings. Before you go, tell me, please. Why don't human people have the problem the same as ours? You kill them first? Or you find another way?"

I told him in our society we learned to tolerate, even love our differences. I felt very guilty though. As a gentleman, it behooves me to always tell the truth. However, as anyone who reads this manuscript knows, I lied. Why? I have written this story in 1757. Milk Chocolate was created by Daniel Peter of the Nestle Chocolate Company in Switzerland in 1877. I guess Jonathan was not so swift,