The Escape Of The Dead

: A Princess Of Mars

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

notic d 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.