|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 18
Thus the hours passed; and thus, with lowered voices and a kind of taut
inner resistance of spirit, this little group of humanity sat in the
jaws of the wilderness and talked foolishly of the terrible and haunting
legend. It was an unequal contest, all things considered, for the
wilderness had already the advantage of first attack--and of a hostage.
The fate of their comrade hung over them with a steadily increasing
weight of oppression that finally became insupportable.
It was Hank, after a pause longer than the preceding ones that no one
seemed able to break, who first let loose all this pent-up emotion in
very unexpected fashion, by springing suddenly to his feet and letting
out the most ear-shattering yell imaginable into the night. He could not
contain himself any longer, it seemed. To make it carry even beyond an
ordinary cry he interrupted its rhythm by shaking the palm of his hand
before his mouth.
"That's for D�fago," he said, looking down at the other two with a
queer, defiant laugh, "for it's my belief"--the sandwiched oaths may be
omitted--"that my ole partner's not far from us at this very minute."
There was a vehemence and recklessness about his performance that made
Simpson, too, start to his feet in amazement, and betrayed even the
doctor into letting the pipe slip from between his lips. Hank's face was
ghastly, but Cathcart's showed a sudden weakness--a loosening of all his
faculties, as it were. Then a momentary anger blazed into his eyes, and
he too, though with deliberation born of habitual self-control, got upon
his feet and faced the excited guide. For this was unpermissible,
foolish, dangerous, and he meant to stop it in the bud.
What might have happened in the next minute or two one may speculate
about, yet never definitely know, for in the instant of profound silence
that followed Hank's roaring voice, and as though in answer to it,
something went past through the darkness of the sky overhead at terrific
speed--something of necessity very large, for it displaced much air,
while down between the trees there fell a faint and windy cry of a human
voice, calling in tones of indescribable anguish and appeal--
"Oh, oh! This fiery height! Oh, oh! My feet of fire! My burning feet of
fire!"
White to the very edge of his shirt, Hank looked stupidly about him like
a child. Dr. Cathcart uttered some kind of unintelligible cry, turning
as he did so with an instinctive movement of blind terror towards the
protection of the tent, then halting in the act as though frozen.
Simpson, alone of the three, retained his presence of mind a little. His
own horror was too deep to allow of any immediate reaction. He had heard
that cry before.
Turning to his stricken companions, he said almost calmly--
"That's exactly the cry I heard--the very words he used!"
Then, lifting his face to the sky, he cried aloud, "D�fago, D�fago! Come
down here to us! Come down--!"
And before there was time for anybody to take definite action one way or
another, there came the sound of something dropping heavily between the
trees, striking the branches on the way down, and landing with a
dreadful thud upon the frozen earth below. The crash and thunder of it
was really terrific.
"That's him, s'help me the good Gawd!" came from Hank in a whispering
cry half choked, his hand going automatically toward the hunting knife
in his belt. "And he's coming! He's coming!" he added, with an
irrational laugh of horror, as the sounds of heavy footsteps crunching
over the snow became distinctly audible, approaching through the
blackness towards the circle of light.
And while the steps, with their stumbling motion, moved nearer and
nearer upon them, the three men stood round that fire, motionless and
dumb. Dr. Cathcart had the appearance of a man suddenly withered; even
his eyes did not move. Hank, suffering shockingly, seemed on the verge
again of violent action; yet did nothing. He, too, was hewn of stone.
Like stricken children they seemed. The picture was hideous. And,
meanwhile, their owner still invisible, the footsteps came closer,
crunching the frozen snow. It was endless--too prolonged to be quite
real--this measured and pitiless approach. It was accursed.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|