Another mass of foliage, larger and more compact, presented my fancy
with a group of horses’ heads and forequarters projecting caparisoned
from their stalls. Their necks kept moving up and down, with an
impatience that augmented as the growing wind broke their vertical
rhythm with a wilder swaying from side to side. What heads they were!
how gaunt, how strange!--several of them bare skulls--one with the skin
tight on its bones! One had lost the under jaw and hung low, looking
unutterably weary--but now and then hove high as if to ease the bit.
Above them, at the end of a branch, floated erect the form of a woman,
waving her arms in imperious gesture. The definiteness of these and
other leaf masses first surprised and then discomposed me: what if they
should overpower my brain with seeming reality? But the twilight became
darkness; the wind ceased; every shape was shut up in the night; I fell
asleep.
It was still dark when I began to be aware of a far-off, confused,
rushing noise, mingled with faint cries. It grew and grew until a tumult
as of gathering multitudes filled the wood. On all sides at once
the sounds drew nearer; the spot where I lay seemed the centre of a
commotion that extended throughout the forest. I scarce moved hand or
foot lest I should betray my presence to hostile things.
The moon at length approached the forest, and came slowly into it: with
her first gleam the noises increased to a deafening uproar, and I began
to see dim shapes about me. As she ascended and grew brighter, the
noises became yet louder, and the shapes clearer. A furious battle was
raging around me. Wild cries and roars of rage, shock of onset, struggle
prolonged, all mingled with words articulate, surged in my ears. Curses
and credos, snarls and sneers, laughter and mockery, sacred names and
howls of hate, came huddling in chaotic interpenetration. Skeletons and
phantoms fought in maddest confusion. Swords swept through the phantoms:
they only shivered. Maces crashed on the skeletons, shattering them
hideously: not one fell or ceased to fight, so long as a single joint
held two bones together. Bones of men and horses lay scattered and
heaped; grinding and crunching them under foot fought the skeletons.
Everywhere charged the bone-gaunt white steeds; everywhere on foot or
on wind-blown misty battle-horses, raged and ravened and raved the
indestructible spectres; weapons and hoofs clashed and crushed; while
skeleton jaws and phantom-throats swelled the deafening tumult with the
war-cry of every opinion, bad or good, that had bred strife, injustice,
cruelty in any world. The holiest words went with the most hating blow.
Lie-distorted truths flew hurtling in the wind of javelins and bones.
Every moment some one would turn against his comrades, and fight more
wildly than before, THE TRUTH! THE TRUTH! still his cry. One I noted who
wheeled ever in a circle, and smote on all sides. Wearied out, a pair
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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