Speaker 1: A terrible night by Fitz James O'Brien.
Speaker 2: But jove, Dick, I'm nearly done up, so am I
Did anyone ever see such a confounded forest?
Speaker 1: Charlie?
Speaker 2: I'm not alone, weak, but hungry all for a steak
of moose, with a bottle of old red wine to
wash it down. Charlie, beware take care how you conjure
up such visions in my mind. I am already nearly starving,
and if you increase my appetite much more, it will
go hard with me if I don't dine off of you.
You are young, and Bertha, says your tender hearted she
meant well, so I am. If loving Bertha be any
proof of it? Do you know, Dick, I have often
wondered that you, who love your sister so passionately, were
not jealous of her attachment to me. So I was,
my dear fellow, at first furiously jealous, but fucked that
Bertha must one day or the other Mary and I
must lose my sister. So I thought it better that
she should marry my old college chum. Generally, friend, Charlie,
costare than anyone else. So you see, there was a
little selfishness in my calculations.
Speaker 1: Charlie. Nick.
Speaker 2: We were friends at school and friends at college, and
I thought at both those places that nothing could shorten
the link that.
Speaker 1: Bound us together. But I was mistaken.
Speaker 2: Since my love four man engagement to your sister, I
feel as if you were fifty times the friend that
you were before.
Speaker 1: Dick, we three will never part.
Speaker 2: So he married the King's daughter and they all lived
together as happy as the days are long, shouted Dick,
with a laugh, and quoting from some nurse retail. The
foregoing is a slice out of the conversation with which
Dick Linton and myself endeavored to beguiled the way as
we tramped through one of the forests of northern New York.
Dick was an artist and I was a sportsman. So
when one fine autumn day he announced his intention of
going into the woods for a week to study nature,
it seemed to me an excellent opportunity to exercise my
legs and my trigger finger. At the same time, Dick
had some backwoods friends who lived in a log hut
on the shores of Eckford Lake, and there we determined
to take up our quarters. Dick, who said he knew
the forest thoroughly was to be our guide, and we accordingly,
with our guns on our shoulders, started on foot from Roots,
a tavern known to tourists and situated on the boundaries
of Essex and Warren Counties. It was a desperate walk,
but as we started by daybreak and had great faith
in our pedestrian qualities, expected to reach the nearest of
the Eckford Lakes by nightfall. The forest through which we
traveled was of the densest description. Overhead, the branches of
spruce and pine shut out the day, while beneath our
feet lay a frightful soil composed principally of jagged shingle,
cunningly concealed by an almost impenetrable brush. As the day
wore on, our hopes of reaching our destination grew fainter
and fainter, and I could almost fancy, from the anxious
glances that Dick cast around him, that in spite of
his boasted knowledge of the woods, he had lost his way.
It was not, however, until night actually fell, and we
were both sinking from hunger and exhaustion, that I could
get him to acknowledge it. We're in a nice pickle,
Master Dick, said I rather crossly, for an empty stomach
does much to destroy a man's natural ail ability. Confound
your assurance that led you to set up as a guide.
Of all men, painters are the most conceited. Come, Charlie,
answered Dick, good humoredly. There's no use in growling so loudly.
You'll bring the bears and panthers on us if you do.
We must make the best of a bad job and
sleep in a tree. Oh it's easy to talk, my
good fellow. I'm not a partridge and don't know how to.
Speaker 1: Roost on a bow.
Speaker 2: Well you'll have to learn then, for if you sleep
on the ground, the chances are ten to one. But
you will have the wolves nibbling at your toes before daylight.
I'm hanged if I'll do either, said I desperately. I'm
going to walk all night, and i'll drop before I
lie down.
Speaker 1: Come, Come, Charlie, don't be a fool.
Speaker 2: I was a fool only when I consented to let
you assume the role of guy. Well, Charlie, if you
are determined to go on, let it be, so we'll
go together. After all, it's only an adventure, I say, Dick,
don't you see a light by jove, so there is
come you see Providence intervenes between us and wolves and hunger.
Speaker 1: That must be some squat us hut.
Speaker 2: The light to which I had so suddenly called Dick's
attention was very faint, and seemed to be about a
half a mile distant. It glimmered through the dark branches
of the hemlock and spruce trees, and weak as the
light was, I hailed it as a mariner without a compass,
hails the star by which he steers. We instantly set
out in the direction of our beacon. In a moment,
it seemed as if all fatigue had vanished, and we
walked as if our muscles were as tense as iron,
and our joints oily as a piston shaft. We soon
arrived at what, in the dusk seemed to be clearing
of about five acres, but it may have been larger,
for the tall forest rising up around it must have
diminished its apparent size, giving it the appearance of a
square pit rather than a farm. Toward one corner of
the clearing we discerned the dusty outline of a log hut,
through whose single end window a faint light was streaming.
With a sigh of relief, we hastened to the door
and knocked. It was opened immediately, and a man appeared
on the threshold. We explained our condition and were instantly
invited to walk in and make ourselves at home. All
our hosts said he could offer us was some cold
Indian corncakes and a slice of dry deer's flesh, to all.
Speaker 1: Of which we were heartily welcome.
Speaker 2: These beyonds, in our starving condition, were luxuries to us,
and we literally reveled in anticipation of a full meal
the heart into which we had so unceremoniously it was
of the most poverty stricken order. It consisted of but
one room, with a rude brick fireplace at one end.
Some deer skins and old blankets were stretched out by
way of a bed at the other extremity of the apartment,
and the only seats visible were two sections of a
large pine trunk that stood close to the fireplace. There
was no vestige of the table, and the rest of
the furniture was embodied in a long Tennessee rifle that
hung close to the rough wall. If the hut was remarkable,
its proprietor was still more so. He was, I think,
the most villainous looking man I ever beheld, about six
feet two inches in height, proportionately broad across the shoulders,
and with a hand large enough to pick up a
fifty six pound shot. He seemed to be a combination
of extraordinary strength and agility. His head was narrow and
oblong in shape. His straight Indian like hair fell smoothly
over his low forehead as if it had been plastered
with soap, and his black, beadlike eyes were set obliquely
and slanted downward toward his nose, giving him a mingled
expression of ferocity and cunning. As I examined his features attentively,
in which I could trace almost every bad passion, I
confess I experienced a certain feeling of apprehension and distrust
that I could not shake off. While he was getting
us the promised food, we tried by questioning him to
draw him into conversation. He seemed very tessaturn and reserved.
He said he lived entirely alone, and had cleared the
spot he occupied with his own hands. He said his
name was Joel, but when he hinted that he must
have some other name, he pretended not to hear us,
though I saw his brows knit and his small.
Speaker 1: Black eyes flash angrily.
Speaker 2: My suspicion of this man were further aroused by observing
a pair of shoes lying in the center of the hut.
The shoes were at least three sizes smaller than those
that are gigantic coast war, and yet he had distinctly
replied that he lived entirely alone. If those shoes were
not his, whose were they. The more I reflected on
this circumstance, the more uneasy I felt. Apprehensions were still
further aroused when Joel, as he called himself, took both
our fowling pieces, and, in order to have them out
of the way, as he said, hung them on crooks
from the wall, at a height that neither Dick nor
I could reach without getting on a stool. I smiled inwardly, however,
as I felt the smooth barrel of my revolver that
was slung in the hollow of my back by its
leathern belt, and thought to myself, if this fellow has
any bad designs, the more unprotected he thinks us, the
more incautious he will be.
Speaker 1: So I made no effort to retain our guns.
Speaker 2: Dick also had a revolver, and was one of those
men who I knew would use it well. When the
time came, My suspicions of our host grew at last
to such a pitch that I.
Speaker 1: Determined to communicate them to Dick.
Speaker 2: Nothing would be easier than for this villainous half breed,
for I felt convinced he had Indian blood in him.
Nothing would be easier than with the aid of an
accomplice to cut our throats or shoot us while we
were asleep, and so get our guns, waters, and whatever
money we carried. Who, in those lonely words would hear
the shot or our cries for help? What emissary of law,
however sharp, could point out our graves in those wild
woods and bring the murder home to those who committed it. Linton,
at first laughed, then grew serious, and gradually became a
convert to my apprehensions. We hurriedly agreed that while one slept,
the other should watch, and so take it in turns.
Speaker 1: Through the night.
Speaker 2: Joel had surrendered to us his couch of deer skin
and his blankets. He himself said he could sleep quite
as well on the floor near the fire. As Dick
and I were both very tired, we were anxious to
get our rest as soon as possible, So after a
hearty meal of deer steak and tough cakes, washed down
by a good draft from our brandy flask, I being
the youngest, got the first hour's sleep and flung myself
on the couch of skins. As my eyes gradually closed,
I saw a dim picture of Dick, a seated sternly
watching by the fire, and the long shape of the
half breed stretching out like a huge shadow upon the floor.
After what I could have sworn to be only a
three minute doze, Dick woke me and informed me that
my hour was out, and, turning me out of my
warm nest, laid down without any ceremony, and in a
few seconds was heavily snoring. I rubbed my eyes, I
felt for my revolver, and seating myself on one of
the pine stumps, commenced my watch.
Speaker 1: The half breed appeared to be buried.
Speaker 2: In a profound slumber, and in the half weird light
cast by the wood embers, his enormous figure seemed almost
titanic in its proportions. I confess I felt that, in
a struggle for life, he was more than a match
for Dick and myself. I then looked at the fire
and began a favorite amusement of mine, shaping forms in
the embers. All sorts of figures defined themselves before me, battles,
tempests at see familiar faces, and above all shone ever
returning the dear features of Bertha Linton, my affianced bride.
She seemed to smile at me through a burning haze,
and I could almost fancy I heard her say, while
you are watching in the clonely forest, I am thinking
of you and praying for your safety. A slight movement
on the part of the slumbering half breed here recalled
me from those sweet dreams. He turned on his side,
lifted himself slowly on his elbow, and gazed attentively at me.
I did not stir, still, retaining my stooping attitude. I
half closed my eyes and remained motionless. Doubtless he thought
I was asleep, for in a moment or two, he rose, noiselessly,
and creeping with a stealthy step across the floor, passed
out of the hut. I listened, Oh, how eagerly it
seemed to me that through the imperfectly joined crevices of
the walls, I could plainly hear voices whispering. I would
have given worlds to have crept nearer to listen, but
I was fearful of disturbing the fancied security of our host,
who I now felt certain had sinister designs upon us,
so I remained perfectly still.
Speaker 1: The whispering suddenly ceased.
Speaker 2: The half breed re entered the hut in the same
stealthy way in which he had quitted it, and, after
giving a scrutinizing glance at me, once more stretched himself
upon the floor and affected to sleep. In a few moments,
I pretended to wake yawned, looked at my watch, and
finding that my hour had more than expired, but she
needed to wake Dick. As I turned him out of bed,
I whispered in his ear, don't take your eyes off
that fellow, Dick.
Speaker 1: He has accomplices outside. Be careful. Dick gave a meaning glance.
Speaker 2: Carelessly touched his revolver as much as to say, here's
something into fear with his little arrangements, and took his
seat on the pine stump. In such a position as
to command a view of the sleeping half breed and
the doorway at the same time. This time, though horribly tired,
I could not sleep. A horrible load seemed pressing on
my chest, and every five minutes I would start up
to see if Dick was keeping his watch faithfully. My
nerves were strung to a frightful pitch of tensity. My
heart beat at every sound, and my head seemed to
throb until I thought my temples would burst. The more
I reflected on the conduct of the half breed, the
more should I was that he intended murder. Full of
this idea, I took my revolver from its sling and
held it in my hand, ready to shoot him down.
At the first movement that appeared at all dangerous, A
haze seemed now to pass across my eyes. Fatigued with
long watching and excitement, I passed into that semi conscious
state in which I seemed perfectly aware of everything that passed,
although objects were dim and dull in outline and did
not appear so sharply defined as in one's waking moments.
I was apparently roused from this state by a slight
crackling sound. I started and raised myself on my elbow.
My heart almost ceased to beat at what I saw.
The half breed had lit some species of dried herb,
which sent out a strong aromatic odor as it burned.
This herb he was holding directly under Dick's nostrils, who
I now perceived, to my horror, was wrapped in profound slumber.
The smoke of this mysterious herb appeared to deprive him
of all consciousness, for he rolled gently off the pine
log and lay stretched upon the floor. The half breed
now stole to the door and opened it gently. Three
sinister heads peered in. Out of the gloom. I saw
the long barrels of rifles, and the huge, brawny hands
that clasped them. The half breed pointed significantly to where
I lay with his long bony finger, then, drawing a large,
thirsty looking knife from his breast, moved toward me. The
time was come. My blood stopped my hot ceased beat.
The half breed was within a foot of my bed.
The knife was raised another instant, and it would have
buried in my heart, when with a hand as cold
as ice, I lifted my revolver, took deadly aim and fired.
A stunning report had dull grown a huge cloud of
smoke curling around me. I found myself standing upright, with
a dark mass lying at my feet. Great God, what
have you done, sir, cried the half breed rushing toward me.
You have killed him. He was just about to wake you.
The frightful truth burst upon me in a flash. I
had shot Dick Linton while under the influence of a nightmare.
Then everything seemed to fade away, and I remember no more.
There was a trial. I believe the lawyers were learned
and proved by physicians that it was a case of
what is called some no lentia or sleep drunkenness. But
of the proceedings I took no heed. One form haunted me,
lying black and heavy on the hot floor, and one
pale face was ever present, a face I saw once
after the terrible catastrophe, and never saw him again, the wild,
despairing face of Bertha Linton, my promised bride.