"...The sun had hardly risen when we left the house. We were looking for
quail, each with a shotgun, but we had only one dog. Morgan said that
our best ground was beyond a certain ridge that he pointed out, and we
crossed it by a trail through the _chaparral_. On the other side was
comparatively level ground, thickly covered with wild oats. As we
emerged from the _chaparral_, Morgan was but a few yards in advance.
Suddenly, we heard, at a little distance to our right, and partly in
front, a noise as of some animal thrashing about in the bushes, which we
could 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 agitated
chaparral, said nothing, but had cocked both barrels of his gun, and was
holding it in readiness to aim. I thought him a trifle excited, which
surprised me, for he had a reputation for exceptional coolness, even in
moments of sudden and imminent peril.
"'O, come!' I said. 'You are not going to fill up a deer with
quail-shot, are you?'
"Still he did not reply; but, catching a sight of his face as he
turned it slightly toward me, I was struck by the pallor of it. Then I
understood that we had serious business on hand, and my first conjecture
was that we had 'jumped' a grizzly. I advanced to Morgan's side, cocking
my piece as I moved.
"The bushes were now quiet, and the sounds had ceased, but Morgan was as
attentive 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 voice
was husky and unnatural. He trembled visibly.
"I was about to speak further, when I observed the wild oats near the
place of the disturbance moving in the most inexplicable way. I can
hardly describe it. It seemed as if stirred by a streak of wind, which
not only bent it, but pressed it down--crushed it so that it did not
rise, and this movement was slowly prolonging itself directly toward us.
"Nothing that I had ever seen had affected me so strangely as this
unfamiliar and unaccountable phenomenon, yet I am unable to recall any
sense of fear. I remember--and tell it here because, singularly enough,
I recollected it then--that once, in looking carelessly out of an open
window, I momentarily mistook a small tree close at hand for one of a
group of larger trees at a little distance away. It looked the same size
as the others, but, being more distinctly and sharply defined in mass
and detail, seemed out of harmony with them. It was a mere falsification
of the law of aerial perspective, but it startled, almost terrified me.
We so rely upon the orderly operation of familiar natural laws that any
seeming suspension of them is noted as a menace to our safety, a warning
of unthinkable calamity. So now the apparently causeless movement of the
herbage, and the slow, undeviating approach of the line of disturbance
were distinctly disquieting. My companion appeared actually frightened,
and I could hardly credit my senses when I saw him suddenly throw his
gun to his shoulders and fire both barrels at the agitated grass! Before
the smoke of the discharge had cleared away I heard a loud savage
cry--a scream like that of a wild animal--and, flinging his gun upon the
ground, Morgan sprang away and ran swiftly from the spot. At the same
instant I was thrown violently to the ground by the impact of something
unseen in the smoke--some soft, heavy substance that seemed thrown
against me with great force.
"Before I could get upon my feet and recover my gun, which seemed to
have been struck from my hands, I heard Morgan crying out as if in
mortal agony, and mingling with his cries were such hoarse savage sounds
as one hears from fighting dogs. Inexpressibly terrified, I struggled to
my feet and looked in the direction of Morgan's retreat; and may heaven
in mercy spare me from another sight like that! At a distance of less
than thirty yards was my friend, down upon one knee, his head thrown
back at a frightful angle, hatless, his long hair in disorder and his
whole body in violent movement from side to side, backward and forward.
His right arm was lifted and seemed to lack the hand--at least, I
could see none. The other arm was invisible. At times, as my memory
now reports this extraordinary scene, I could discern but a part of his
body; it was as if he had been partly blotted out--I can not otherwise
express it--then a shifting of his position would bring it all into view
again.
"All this must have occurred within a few seconds, yet in that time
Morgan assumed all the postures of a determined wrestler vanquished by
superior weight and strength. I saw nothing but him, and him not always
distinctly. During the entire incident his shouts and curses were heard,
as if through an enveloping uproar of such sounds of rage and fury as I
had never heard from the throat of man or brute!
"For a moment only I stood irresolute, then, throwing down my gun, I
ran forward to my friend's assistance. I had a vague belief that he was
suffering from a fit or some form of convulsion. Before I could reach
his side he was down and quiet. All sounds had ceased, but, with a
feeling of such terror as even these awful events had not inspired, I
now saw the same mysterious movement of the wild oats prolonging itself
from the trampled area about the prostrate man toward the edge of
a wood. It was only when it had reached the wood that I was able to
withdraw my eyes and look at my companion. He was dead."