CHAPTER II
THE ESCAPE OF THE DEAD
A sense of delicious dreaminess overcame me, my muscles relaxed,
and I was on the point of giving way to my desire to sleep when the
sound of approaching horses reached my ears. I attempted to spring
to my feet but was horrified to discover that my muscles refused to
respond to my will. I was now thoroughly awake, but as unable to
move a muscle as though turned to stone. It was then, for the first
time, that I noticed a slight vapor filling the cave. It was
extremely tenuous and only noticeable against the opening which led
to daylight. There also came to my nostrils a faintly pungent odor,
and I could only assume that I had been overcome by some poisonous
gas, but why I should retain my mental faculties and yet be unable
to move I could not fathom.
I lay facing the opening of the cave and where I could see the short
stretch of trail which lay between the cave and the turn of the
cliff around which the trail led. The noise of the approaching
horses had ceased, and I judged the Indians were creeping stealthily
upon me along the little ledge which led to my living tomb. I
remember that I hoped they would make short work of me as I did not
particularly relish the thought of the innumerable things they might
do to me if the spirit prompted them.
I had not long to wait before a stealthy sound apprised me of their
nearness, and then a war-bonneted, paint-streaked face was thrust
cautiously around the shoulder of the cliff, and savage eyes looked
into mine. That he could see me in the dim light of the cave I was
sure for the early morning sun was falling full upon me through the
opening.
The fellow, instead of approaching, merely stood and stared; his
eyes bulging and his jaw dropped. And then another savage face
appeared, and a third and fourth and fifth, craning their necks over
the shoulders of their fellows whom they could not pass upon the
narrow ledge. Each face was the picture of awe and fear, but for
what reason I did not know, nor did I learn until ten years later.
That there were still other braves behind those who regarded me was
apparent from the fact that the leaders passed back whispered word
to those behind them.
Suddenly a low but distinct moaning sound issued from the recesses
of the cave behind me, and, as it reached the ears of the Indians,
they turned and fled in terror, panic-stricken. So frantic were
their efforts to escape from the unseen thing behind me that one of
the braves was hurled headlong from the cliff to the rocks below.
Their wild cries echoed in the canyon for a short time, and then
all was still once more.
The sound which had frightened them was not repeated, but it had
been sufficient as it was to start me speculating on the possible
horror which lurked in the shadows at my back. Fear is a relative
term and so I can only measure my feelings at that time by what I
had experienced in previous positions of danger and by those that I
have passed through since; but I can say without shame that if the
sensations I endured during the next few minutes were fear, then may
God help the coward, for cowardice is of a surety its own
punishment.
To be held paralyzed, with one's back toward some horrible and
unknown danger from the very sound of which the ferocious Apache
warriors turn in wild stampede, as a flock of sheep would madly
flee from a pack of wolves, seems to me the last word in fearsome
predicaments for a man who had ever been used to fighting for his
life with all the energy of a powerful physique.
Several times I thought I heard faint sounds behind me as of
somebody moving cautiously, but eventually even these ceased, and I
was left to the contemplation of my position without interruption.
I could but vaguely conjecture the cause of my paralysis, and my
only hope lay in that it might pass off as suddenly as it had fallen
upon me.
Late in the afternoon my horse, which had been standing with
dragging rein before the cave, started slowly down the trail,
evidently in search of food and water, and I was left alone with
my mysterious unknown companion and the dead body of my friend,
which lay just within my range of vision upon the ledge where I
had placed it in the early morning.
From then until possibly midnight all was silence, the silence of
the dead; then, suddenly, the awful moan of the morning broke upon
my startled ears, and there came again from the black shadows the
sound of a moving thing, and a faint rustling as of dead leaves.
The shock to my already overstrained nervous system was terrible in
the extreme, and with a superhuman effort I strove to break my awful
bonds. It was an effort of the mind, of the will, of the nerves;
not muscular, for I could not move even so much as my little finger,
but none the less mighty for all that. And then something gave,
there was a momentary feeling of nausea, a sharp click as of the
snapping of a steel wire, and I stood with my back against the wall
of the cave facing my unknown foe.
And then the moonlight flooded the cave, and there before me lay my
own body as it had been lying all these hours, with the eyes staring
toward the open ledge and the hands resting limply upon the ground.
I looked first at my lifeless clay there upon the floor of the cave
and then down at myself in utter bewilderment; for there I lay
clothed, and yet here I stood but naked as at the minute of my
birth.
The transition had been so sudden and so unexpected that it left me
for a moment forgetful of aught else than my strange metamorphosis.
My first thought was, is this then death! Have I indeed passed over
forever into that other life! But I could not well believe this, as
I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs from the exertion of
my efforts to release myself from the anaesthesis which had held me.
My breath was coming in quick, short gasps, cold sweat stood out
from every pore of my body, and the ancient experiment of pinching
revealed the fact that I was anything other than a wraith.
Again was I suddenly recalled to my immediate surroundings by a
repetition of the weird moan from the depths of the cave. Naked and
unarmed as I was, I had no desire to face the unseen thing which
menaced me.
My revolvers were strapped to my lifeless body which, for some
unfathomable reason, I could not bring myself to touch. My carbine
was in its boot, strapped to my saddle, and as my horse had wandered
off I was left without means of defense. My only alternative seemed
to lie in flight and my decision was crystallized by a recurrence of
the rustling sound from the thing which now seemed, in the darkness
of the cave and to my distorted imagination, to be creeping
stealthily upon me.
Unable longer to resist the temptation to escape this horrible place
I leaped quickly through the opening into the starlight of a clear
Arizona night. The crisp, fresh mountain air outside the cave acted
as an immediate tonic and I felt new life and new courage coursing
through me. Pausing upon the brink of the ledge I upbraided myself
for what now seemed to me wholly unwarranted apprehension. I
reasoned with myself that I had lain helpless for many hours within
the cave, yet nothing had molested me, and my better judgment, when
permitted the direction of clear and logical reasoning, convinced me
that the noises I had heard must have resulted from purely natural
and harmless causes; probably the conformation of the cave was such
that a slight breeze had caused the sounds I heard.
I decided to investigate, but first I lifted my head to fill my
lungs with the pure, invigorating night air of the mountains. As I
did so I saw stretching far below me the beautiful vista of rocky
gorge, and level, cacti-studded flat, wrought by the moonlight into
a miracle of soft splendor and wondrous enchantment.
Few western wonders are more inspiring than the beauties of an
Arizona moonlit landscape; the silvered mountains in the distance,
the strange lights and shadows upon hog back and arroyo, and the
grotesque details of the stiff, yet beautiful cacti form a picture
at once enchanting and inspiring; as though one were catching for
the first time a glimpse of some dead and forgotten world, so
different is it from the aspect of any other spot upon our earth.
As I stood thus meditating, I turned my gaze from the landscape to
the heavens where the myriad stars formed a gorgeous and fitting
canopy for the wonders of the earthly scene. My attention was
quickly riveted by a large red star close to the distant horizon.
As I gazed upon it I felt a spell of overpowering fascination--it
was Mars, the god of war, and for me, the fighting man, it had
always held the power of irresistible enchantment. As I gazed at
it on that far-gone night it seemed to call across the unthinkable
void, to lure me to it, to draw me as the lodestone attracts a
particle of iron.
My longing was beyond the power of opposition; I closed my eyes,
stretched out my arms toward the god of my vocation and felt myself
drawn with the suddenness of thought through the trackless immensity
of space. There was an instant of extreme cold and utter darkness.
