The Dead Bury Their Dead

I may have lost consciousness; I do not know. That awful glare, the thunderous report, the speechless terror of feeling myself a mere pygmy in the midst of such tremendous convulsions of nature, shocked me into momentary insensibility. I lay huddled against the rock like a man dead, one arm yet clasping the motionless form of Eloise. Stunned, unable to move a muscle, I believed death had overtaken us all; that out from the very heavens a bolt had stricken us down. I struggled painfully to arouse myself, every nerve in my body appearing paralyzed. At first I could not even see, but light came back gradually to my blinded eyes, and I staggered to my feet, slowly adjusting my mind to the situation.

I began to understand then what had happened--that deadly bolt had smitten the cliff as by the wrath of God, yet I was spared. I still lived, as by a miracle. I stared across the chasm and up the steep ascent beyond, still clearly revealed in the lightning flashes. It was vacant; not a human form stood where those pursuing savages had been. A cry burst from my lips as I gazed--a vast, irregular gash showed clearly in the cliff face, but where the entrance to the cave had yawned was a solid front of rock. I staggered with the shock, reeling on the very edge of the path, and barely saved myself by dropping to my knees. Again I looked, half believing my brain crazed, that I beheld visions. As God guards me, it was true! Out of the very heavens He had struck, sealing those fiends into a living tomb. Trembling like a frightened child, I bowed my face and sobbed as I prayed for mercy.