The Damned Thing Read online

  II

  "...The sun had hardly risen when we left the house. We were looking forquail, each with a shotgun, but we had only one dog. Morgan said thatour best ground was beyond a certain ridge that he pointed out, and wecrossed it by a trail through the _chaparral_. On the other side wascomparatively level ground, thickly covered with wild oats. As weemerged from the _chaparral_, Morgan was but a few yards in advance.Suddenly, we heard, at a little distance to our right, and partly infront, a noise as of some animal thrashing about in the bushes, which wecould see were violently agitated.

  "'We've started a deer,' said. 'I wish we had brought a rifle.'

  "Morgan, who had stopped and was intently watching the agitatedchaparral, said nothing, but had cocked both barrels of his gun, and washolding it in readiness to aim. I thought him a trifle excited, whichsurprised me, for he had a reputation for exceptional coolness, even inmoments of sudden and imminent peril.

  "'O, come!' I said. 'You are not going to fill up a deer withquail-shot, are you?'

  "Still he did not reply; but, catching a sight of his face as heturned it slightly toward me, I was struck by the pallor of it. Then Iunderstood that we had serious business on hand, and my first conjecturewas that we had 'jumped' a grizzly. I advanced to Morgan's side, cockingmy piece as I moved.

  "The bushes were now quiet, and the sounds had ceased, but Morgan was asattentive to the place as before.

  "'What is it? What the devil is it?' I asked.

  "'That Damned Thing!' he replied, without turning his head. His voicewas husky and unnatural. He trembled visibly.

  "I was about to speak further, when I observed the wild oats near theplace of the disturbance moving in the most inexplicable way. I canhardly describe it. It seemed as if stirred by a streak of wind, whichnot only bent it, but pressed it down--crushed it so that it did notrise, and this movement was slowly prolonging itself directly toward us.

  "Nothing that I had ever seen had affected me so strangely as thisunfamiliar and unaccountable phenomenon, yet I am unable to recall anysense of fear. I remember--and tell it here because, singularly enough,I recollected it then--that once, in looking carelessly out of an openwindow, I momentarily mistook a small tree close at hand for one of agroup of larger trees at a little distance away. It looked the same sizeas the others, but, being more distinctly and sharply defined in massand detail, seemed out of harmony with them. It was a mere falsificationof the law of aerial perspective, but it startled, almost terrified me.We so rely upon the orderly operation of familiar natural laws that anyseeming suspension of them is noted as a menace to our safety, a warningof unthinkable calamity. So now the apparently causeless movement of theherbage, and the slow, undeviating approach of the line of disturbancewere distinctly disquieting. My companion appeared actually frightened,and I could hardly credit my senses when I saw him suddenly throw hisgun to his shoulders and fire both barrels at the agitated grass! Beforethe smoke of the discharge had cleared away I heard a loud savagecry--a scream like that of a wild animal--and, flinging his gun upon theground, Morgan sprang away and ran swiftly from the spot. At the sameinstant I was thrown violently to the ground by the impact of somethingunseen in the smoke--some soft, heavy substance that seemed thrownagainst me with great force.

  "Before I could get upon my feet and recover my gun, which seemed tohave been struck from my hands, I heard Morgan crying out as if inmortal agony, and mingling with his cries were such hoarse savage soundsas one hears from fighting dogs. Inexpressibly terrified, I struggled tomy feet and looked in the direction of Morgan's retreat; and may heavenin mercy spare me from another sight like that! At a distance of lessthan thirty yards was my friend, down upon one knee, his head thrownback at a frightful angle, hatless, his long hair in disorder and hiswhole body in violent movement from side to side, backward and forward.His right arm was lifted and seemed to lack the hand--at least, Icould see none. The other arm was invisible. At times, as my memorynow reports this extraordinary scene, I could discern but a part of hisbody; it was as if he had been partly blotted out--I can not otherwiseexpress it--then a shifting of his position would bring it all into viewagain.

  "All this must have occurred within a few seconds, yet in that timeMorgan assumed all the postures of a determined wrestler vanquished bysuperior weight and strength. I saw nothing but him, and him not alwaysdistinctly. During the entire incident his shouts and curses were heard,as if through an enveloping uproar of such sounds of rage and fury as Ihad never heard from the throat of man or brute!

  "For a moment only I stood irresolute, then, throwing down my gun, Iran forward to my friend's assistance. I had a vague belief that he wassuffering from a fit or some form of convulsion. Before I could reachhis side he was down and quiet. All sounds had ceased, but, with afeeling of such terror as even these awful events had not inspired, Inow saw the same mysterious movement of the wild oats prolonging itselffrom the trampled area about the prostrate man toward the edge ofa wood. It was only when it had reached the wood that I was able towithdraw my eyes and look at my companion. He was dead."