When the birds fly southCoblentz, Stanton A. (Stanton Arthur)
Science
When the birds fly south
Coblentz, Stanton A. (Stanton Arthur)
Afghanistan -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
"Dear Prescott: I am leaving this note with hardly any hope that you
will find it, or that you are not now beyond the reach of all human
messages. I cannot believe that you have been spared, for after
losing you in the fog and failing to reach you by shouts and pistol
signals, I have discovered no sign that you still live. For my own
part, I had to pass the night between two sheltered rocks on the
mountainside; but, luckily, I was unhurt, and when the fog lifted
for a while the next morning I managed to make my way down below
the mist-belt. Then, after wandering for hours, I fell in with a
searching party from camp. I was alarmed to learn that they had
found no trace of you, and more alarmed when, after searching all
the rest of the day, we were still without any clue. On the
following morning we made a much wider hunt, and bribed and
intimidated the native guides to lead us up the mountain, which
they feared and hated. Still no results! You had vanished as
completely as the very fog that hid you--on the next day, and
still on the next we scoured the mountains, always in vain. For a
week now we have lingered here, until hope has disappeared, and, in
deepest sorrow, we must continue on our way.
"But while reason tells me that you have perished, I cannot keep
back a vague feeling that somehow you escaped. It is merely out of
a whim, and in spite of the smiles of our skeptical friends, that I
am building this mound of stones to draw your attention if ever you
return, and hiding this letter so that if need be it may withstand
the elements for years. It will do you little enough good, but at
least you will have learned that we did not willingly desert you.
How you will be able to struggle out of this wilderness is a
question that heaven itself may not be able to answer--I can only
pray that some fortunate chance may save you as it has saved me.
"Farewell, Dan Prescott!--You cannot know how every day of my life
will be overshadowed by thought of that foolhardy escapade of ours.
"Your wretched friend,
"Jasper Damon."
CHAPTER VI
_FORESHADOWINGS_
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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