The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-05-09

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| had brought 10 my blankets my weapons and
my naturaists outfit and heaped them in the
dryest corner of the room Certain almost
to get my heavy pistol. seven chambered re-
volver and lay it close beside me. Ever and
anon the stabbing sound as I may call it, fairly
startled me with its realism. Each blow was a
hearing can distinguish such thing.
could not keep my eyes off the door
| way, nor could l control my imagination;
| still, SO far from being frightened or
| nervous, / actually enjoyed the picturesque
| sombreness. not to say werdness of my predica-
ment Suddenly. for the merest point of time, /
| saw face in the doorway, shadowy, wrinkled,
black face projected upon the blacker back
| ground of the night / shall never forget those
| eyes, rheumy with age and yet burning with a
dull demoniac fire> I snatched up my pistol and
| sat there watching for return of the evil
visage My hand YVES quite steady. I intended
| to fire point blank at one of those eyes. In fact
| | did, a few moments later and the roar of that
| shot seemed to ELL heaven and earth Away
rolled the echoes, breaking through the night
| and the storm, In a series of bounding crashes,
| dying on the farthest circle of the horizon.
laughed outright for in an instant knew had
| fired at a creature of my own fancy. What a
| fool was to give way to such idle folly.
| slipped fresh cartridge into the empty cylinder
| of my revolver and began to spread my blankets.
would go to sleep and let the three edged knife
proceed with it's work. So. putting the last piece
of fuel the suffering little fire, lay down to
court slumber. It was not so easy to dismiss the
legend Of the Satilla from my mind. however.
| The sad fate of Marie La Fleur a story SO ina
perfect and yet SO suggestive, haunted my mind
! with charm so insistant, and yet so nameless,
| that Icould not resist it. Then, too, always at
| the moment when not expected, that dull, muir
derous stabbing sound!
| permitted my thoughts to dwell for q while
| on the solitude In whose midst lay. For miles
| and miles nothing but the hideous swamps the
| suffocating camel brakes, the mosshung woods,
the howery glades and the winding, low-mur-
muring river.
| Slowly the storm passed over and away, trail
| ing light spray of desultory rain behind it. l
heard it grow weaker and weaker. and finally
vanish into silence, leaving the darkness without
even breath to disturb it. Then fell asleep
| with my pistol lying on my breast.
l have means of knowing how long my
slumber lasted, bat presently / awoke to find
| that my little fire had burned to ashes. No
| phrase Is adequate to my need as attempt to
describe how dark it was-the blackness was
| heavy, almost suffocating.
| Much to my disgust soon discovered that a
| troop of flying squirrels had taken possession
of the roof and walls of the cabin and were rae
| ing back and forth stout hewn beam that
| lay from wall to wall overhead at about the
middle of the room. This beam being directly
above where lay, the little animals frisking
| upon it, tumbled bits of rotten wood down into
my face and over my blanket They squeaked,
| and scrambled, and fought like lilliputian de-
| mons. Then, to help the matter an owl came
| and sat on the roof-comb and hooted dismally
| 1t may have been the birds mate, or the echo of
| its hooting, but horrible chuckle or haf-sup-
| pressed guffaw, came now and again from the
| surrounding wood,
| went to sleep again, at length, but started
awake, after short nap, with feeling that
| some strange sound had disturbed me. The fly
| ing squirrels were not so noisy now, in fact
| heard them scramblng out of the cabin by every
opening. l was aware that pale phosphores-
cent light had just faded from the room and I
| felt vague chill in my blood and scarcely
| definite consciousness of fear, as if ] had come
near seeing something supernatural lay quite
still for some time, breathing in shallow, fiut-
| tering way, trying to find out what had hap
pened. Suddenly it seemed a great hush had fall
| len on the woods. / could hear nothing but
| the dull beating of my heart and the bubbling of
| the little river. / listened and wondered. 1
| could almost understand what it was had startled
my sleep, and yet 1t was a profound mystery.
| Presently l became aware of low. regular
| breathing sound, and then some infinitely slight
movement betrayed the presence of another per-
son in the room, near the doorway. / tried to
| grasp my pistol, but fear had mastered me so
completely that could not lift my hand, and 1
| lay as if paralyZed. Strangely enough my mind
was all the more active, it seemed, on account of
| my bodily stupor, and my thoughts flashed back
over the strange scraps of the legend and dwelt
| with fascination on the doings of the knife
| All at once small fragment of charred wood
| in the ashes on the hearth gave forth mere
| point of fame which family lighted the room
| looked all around. There sat my gun, there
| lay my leather portfolio and other pieces of my
| outfit, there were the mody walls, the beam
| overhead. the low, dark doorway, and nothing
more. The breathing had ceased.
| Why could / not movel I tried, but could not
bend finger or stir lip. 1t seemed that my
| eyes saw all over the room without turning in
| their sockets. | was not dreaming. or strug-
| Cling with nightmare, for l thought of how
| strange dreams sometimes, and tested the
| matter by counting the boards contained in a
| row of the roof / wondered if it could be par
alysis The pistol was mountain heavy on my
| breast
| Slowly the little flame fickered out again,
| leaving me in darkness. What suffocating re-
| pulsive odor of rottenness and fungi filed the
| air! No sooner had the light vanished than the
breathing began again in constrained way, as
if the person were trying not TO be heard. 1t
was great relief to me when at length one of the
| flying squirrels had the nerve to rush along the
| cross beam, tumbling down chip, or bit of wood,
or bark. I cannot find words suitable to suggest
the effect Of my predicament. The dismal,
| murky night, the musty cabin. the black dark
ness the silence, my helplessness, the
presence of some invisible being and the
utter isolation of the spot, may all be imagined
with some degree of force, but the undercurrent,
the spirit of the legend. the thought of the knife
| how shall put the effect into words or phrasesl
l remember trying to beat back my Imagination,
| and to bring my reason to bear on the situation,
| but what could reason do with the elements how
/ ering around met
| must have lain there an hour, perhaps longer;
1t seems an age, q century; and then. while the