An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge by Ambrose Bierce
and to beat with an inconceivably rapidperiodicity. They seemed like streams of pulsating fire heating himto an intolerable temperature. As to his head, he was conscious ofnothing but a feeling of fullness--of congestion. These sensationswere unaccompanied by thought. The intellectual part of his naturewas already effaced; he had power only to feel, and feeling wastorment. He was conscious of motion. Encompassed in a luminous cloud,of which he was now merely the fiery heart, without materialsubstance, he swung through unthinkable arcs of oscillation, like avast pendulum. Then all at once, with terrible suddenness, the lightabout him shot upward with the noise of a loud splash; a frightfulroaring was in his ears, and all was cold and dark. The power ofthought was restored; he knew that the rope had broken and he hadfallen into the stream. There was no additional strangulation; thenoose about his neck was already suffocating him and kept the waterfrom his lungs. To die of hanging at the bottom of a river!--the ideaseemed to him ludicrous. He opened his eyes in the darkness and sawabove him a gleam of light, but how distant, how inaccessible! He wasstill sinking, for the light became fainter and fainter until it was amere glimmer. Then it began to grow and brighten, and he knew that hewas rising toward the surface--knew it with reluctance, for he was nowvery comfortable. "To be hanged and drowned," he thought, "that isnot so bad; but I do not wish to be shot. No; I will not be shot;that is not fair."
He was not conscious of an effort, but a sharp pain in his wristapprised him that he was trying to free his hands. He gave thestruggle his attention, as an idler might observe the feat of ajuggler, without interest in the outcome. What splendid effort!--whatmagnificent, what superhuman strength! Ah, that was a fine endeavor!Bravo! The cord fell away; his arms parted and floated upward, thehands dimly seen on each side in the growing light. He watched themwith a new interest as first one and then the other pounced upon thenoose at his neck. They tore it away and thrust it fiercely aside,its undulations resembling those of a water snake. "Put it back, putit back!" He thought he shouted these words to his hands, for theundoing of the noose had been succeeded by the direst pang that he hadyet experienced. His neck ached horribly; his brain was on fire, hisheart, which had been fluttering faintly, gave a great leap, trying toforce itself out at his mouth. His whole body was racked and wrenchedwith an insupportable anguish! But his disobedient hands gave no heedto the command. They beat the water vigorously with quick, downwardstrokes, forcing him to the surface. He felt his head emerge; hiseyes were blinded by the sunlight; his chest expanded convulsively,and with a supreme and crowning agony his lungs engulfed a greatdraught of air, which instantly he expelled in a shriek!
He was now in full possession of his physical senses. They were,indeed, preternaturally keen and alert. Something in the awfuldisturbance of his organic system had so exalted and refined them thatthey made record of things never before perceived. He felt theripples upon his face and heard their separate sounds as they struck.He looked at the forest on the bank of the stream, saw the individualtrees, the leaves and the veining of each leaf--he saw the veryinsects upon them: the locusts, the brilliant bodied flies, the grayspiders stretching their webs from twig to twig. He noted theprismatic colors in all the dewdrops upon a million blades of grass.The humming of the gnats that danced above the eddies of the stream,the beating of the dragon flies' wings, the strokes of the waterspiders' legs, like oars which had lifted their boat--all these madeaudible music. A fish slid along beneath his eyes and he heard therush of its body parting the water.
He had come to the surface facing down the stream; in a moment thevisible world seemed to wheel slowly round, himself the pivotal point,and he saw the bridge, the fort, the soldiers upon the bridge, thecaptain, the sergeant, the two privates, his executioners. They werein silhouette against the blue sky. They shouted and gesticulated,pointing at him. The captain had drawn his pistol, but did not fire;the others were unarmed. Their movements were grotesque and horrible,their forms gigantic.
Suddenly he heard a sharp report and something struck the watersmartly within a few inches of his head, spattering his face withspray. He heard a second report, and saw one of the sentinels withhis rifle at his shoulder, a light cloud of blue smoke rising from themuzzle. The man in the water saw the eye of the man on the bridgegazing into his own through the sights of the rifle. He observed thatit was a gray eye and remembered having read that gray eyes werekeenest, and that all famous marksmen had them. Nevertheless, this onehad missed.
A counter-swirl had caught Farquhar and turned him half round; he wasagain looking at the forest on the bank opposite the fort. The soundof a clear, high voice in a monotonous singsong now rang out behindhim and came across the water with a distinctness that pierced andsubdued all other sounds, even the beating of the ripples in his ears.Although no soldier, he had frequented camps enough to know the dreadsignificance of that deliberate, drawling, aspirated chant; thelieutenant on shore was taking a part in the morning's work. Howcoldly and pitilessly--with what an even, calm intonation, presaging,and enforcing tranquility in the men--with what accurately measuredinterval fell those cruel words:
"Company! . . . Attention! . . . Shoulder arms! . . . Ready!. . .Aim! . . . Fire!"
Farquhar dived--dived as deeply as he could. The water roared in hisears like the voice of Niagara, yet he heard the dull thunder of thevolley and, rising again toward the surface, met shining bits ofmetal, singularly flattened, oscillating slowly downward. Some ofthem touched him on the face and hands, then fell away, continuingtheir descent. One lodged between his collar and neck; it wasuncomfortably warm and he snatched it out.
As he rose to the surface, gasping for breath, he saw that he had beena long time under water; he was perceptibly farther downstream--nearerto safety. The soldiers had almost finished reloading; the metalramrods flashed all at once in the sunshine as they were drawn fromthe barrels, turned in the air, and thrust into their sockets. Thetwo sentinels fired again, independently and ineffectually.
The hunted man saw all this over his shoulder; he was now swimmingvigorously with the current. His brain was as energetic as his armsand legs; he thought with the rapidity of lightning:
"The officer," he reasoned, "will not make that martinet's error asecond time. It is as easy to dodge a volley as a single shot. Hehas probably already given the command to fire at will. God help me,I cannot dodge them all!"
An appalling splash within two yards of him was followed by a loud,rushing sound, DIMINUENDO, which seemed to travel back through the airto the fort and died in an explosion which stirred the very river toits deeps! A rising sheet of water curved over him, fell down uponhim, blinded him, strangled him! The cannon had taken an hand in thegame. As he shook his head free from the commotion of the smittenwater he heard the deflected shot humming through the air ahead, andin an instant it was cracking and smashing the branches in the forestbeyond.
"They will not do that again," he thought; "the next time they willuse a charge of grape. I must keep my eye upon the gun; the smokewill apprise me--the report arrives too late; it lags behind themissile. That is a good gun."
Suddenly he felt himself whirled round and round--spinning like a top.The water, the banks, the forests, the now distant bridge, fort andmen, all were commingled and blurred. Objects were represented bytheir colors only; circular horizontal streaks of color--that was allhe saw. He had been caught in a vortex and was being whirled on with avelocity of advance and gyration that made him giddy and sick. In fewmoments he was flung upon the gravel at the foot of the left bank ofthe stream--the southern bank--and behind a projecting point whichconcealed him from his enemies. The sudden arrest of his motion, theabrasion of one of his hands on the gravel, restored him, and he weptwith delight. He dug his fingers into the sand, threw it over himselfin handfuls and audibly blessed it. It looked like diamonds, rubies,emeralds; he could think of nothing beautiful which it did notresemble. The trees upon the bank were giant garden plants; he noteda definite order in their a
rrangement, inhaled the fragrance of theirblooms. A strange roseate light shone through the spaces among theirtrunks and the wind made in their branches the music of AEolian harps.He had not wish to perfect his escape--he was content to remain inthat enchanting spot until retaken.
A whiz and a rattle of grapeshot among the branches high above hishead roused him from his dream. The baffled cannoneer had fired him arandom farewell. He sprang to his feet, rushed up the sloping bank,and plunged into the forest.
All that day he traveled, laying his course by the rounding sun. Theforest seemed interminable; nowhere did he discover a break in it, noteven a woodman's road. He had not known that he lived in so wild aregion. There was something uncanny in the revelation.
By nightfall he was fatigued, footsore, famished. The thought of hiswife and children urged him on. At last he found a road which led himin what he knew
He was not conscious of an effort, but a sharp pain in his wristapprised him that he was trying to free his hands. He gave thestruggle his attention, as an idler might observe the feat of ajuggler, without interest in the outcome. What splendid effort!--whatmagnificent, what superhuman strength! Ah, that was a fine endeavor!Bravo! The cord fell away; his arms parted and floated upward, thehands dimly seen on each side in the growing light. He watched themwith a new interest as first one and then the other pounced upon thenoose at his neck. They tore it away and thrust it fiercely aside,its undulations resembling those of a water snake. "Put it back, putit back!" He thought he shouted these words to his hands, for theundoing of the noose had been succeeded by the direst pang that he hadyet experienced. His neck ached horribly; his brain was on fire, hisheart, which had been fluttering faintly, gave a great leap, trying toforce itself out at his mouth. His whole body was racked and wrenchedwith an insupportable anguish! But his disobedient hands gave no heedto the command. They beat the water vigorously with quick, downwardstrokes, forcing him to the surface. He felt his head emerge; hiseyes were blinded by the sunlight; his chest expanded convulsively,and with a supreme and crowning agony his lungs engulfed a greatdraught of air, which instantly he expelled in a shriek!
He was now in full possession of his physical senses. They were,indeed, preternaturally keen and alert. Something in the awfuldisturbance of his organic system had so exalted and refined them thatthey made record of things never before perceived. He felt theripples upon his face and heard their separate sounds as they struck.He looked at the forest on the bank of the stream, saw the individualtrees, the leaves and the veining of each leaf--he saw the veryinsects upon them: the locusts, the brilliant bodied flies, the grayspiders stretching their webs from twig to twig. He noted theprismatic colors in all the dewdrops upon a million blades of grass.The humming of the gnats that danced above the eddies of the stream,the beating of the dragon flies' wings, the strokes of the waterspiders' legs, like oars which had lifted their boat--all these madeaudible music. A fish slid along beneath his eyes and he heard therush of its body parting the water.
He had come to the surface facing down the stream; in a moment thevisible world seemed to wheel slowly round, himself the pivotal point,and he saw the bridge, the fort, the soldiers upon the bridge, thecaptain, the sergeant, the two privates, his executioners. They werein silhouette against the blue sky. They shouted and gesticulated,pointing at him. The captain had drawn his pistol, but did not fire;the others were unarmed. Their movements were grotesque and horrible,their forms gigantic.
Suddenly he heard a sharp report and something struck the watersmartly within a few inches of his head, spattering his face withspray. He heard a second report, and saw one of the sentinels withhis rifle at his shoulder, a light cloud of blue smoke rising from themuzzle. The man in the water saw the eye of the man on the bridgegazing into his own through the sights of the rifle. He observed thatit was a gray eye and remembered having read that gray eyes werekeenest, and that all famous marksmen had them. Nevertheless, this onehad missed.
A counter-swirl had caught Farquhar and turned him half round; he wasagain looking at the forest on the bank opposite the fort. The soundof a clear, high voice in a monotonous singsong now rang out behindhim and came across the water with a distinctness that pierced andsubdued all other sounds, even the beating of the ripples in his ears.Although no soldier, he had frequented camps enough to know the dreadsignificance of that deliberate, drawling, aspirated chant; thelieutenant on shore was taking a part in the morning's work. Howcoldly and pitilessly--with what an even, calm intonation, presaging,and enforcing tranquility in the men--with what accurately measuredinterval fell those cruel words:
"Company! . . . Attention! . . . Shoulder arms! . . . Ready!. . .Aim! . . . Fire!"
Farquhar dived--dived as deeply as he could. The water roared in hisears like the voice of Niagara, yet he heard the dull thunder of thevolley and, rising again toward the surface, met shining bits ofmetal, singularly flattened, oscillating slowly downward. Some ofthem touched him on the face and hands, then fell away, continuingtheir descent. One lodged between his collar and neck; it wasuncomfortably warm and he snatched it out.
As he rose to the surface, gasping for breath, he saw that he had beena long time under water; he was perceptibly farther downstream--nearerto safety. The soldiers had almost finished reloading; the metalramrods flashed all at once in the sunshine as they were drawn fromthe barrels, turned in the air, and thrust into their sockets. Thetwo sentinels fired again, independently and ineffectually.
The hunted man saw all this over his shoulder; he was now swimmingvigorously with the current. His brain was as energetic as his armsand legs; he thought with the rapidity of lightning:
"The officer," he reasoned, "will not make that martinet's error asecond time. It is as easy to dodge a volley as a single shot. Hehas probably already given the command to fire at will. God help me,I cannot dodge them all!"
An appalling splash within two yards of him was followed by a loud,rushing sound, DIMINUENDO, which seemed to travel back through the airto the fort and died in an explosion which stirred the very river toits deeps! A rising sheet of water curved over him, fell down uponhim, blinded him, strangled him! The cannon had taken an hand in thegame. As he shook his head free from the commotion of the smittenwater he heard the deflected shot humming through the air ahead, andin an instant it was cracking and smashing the branches in the forestbeyond.
"They will not do that again," he thought; "the next time they willuse a charge of grape. I must keep my eye upon the gun; the smokewill apprise me--the report arrives too late; it lags behind themissile. That is a good gun."
Suddenly he felt himself whirled round and round--spinning like a top.The water, the banks, the forests, the now distant bridge, fort andmen, all were commingled and blurred. Objects were represented bytheir colors only; circular horizontal streaks of color--that was allhe saw. He had been caught in a vortex and was being whirled on with avelocity of advance and gyration that made him giddy and sick. In fewmoments he was flung upon the gravel at the foot of the left bank ofthe stream--the southern bank--and behind a projecting point whichconcealed him from his enemies. The sudden arrest of his motion, theabrasion of one of his hands on the gravel, restored him, and he weptwith delight. He dug his fingers into the sand, threw it over himselfin handfuls and audibly blessed it. It looked like diamonds, rubies,emeralds; he could think of nothing beautiful which it did notresemble. The trees upon the bank were giant garden plants; he noteda definite order in their a
A whiz and a rattle of grapeshot among the branches high above hishead roused him from his dream. The baffled cannoneer had fired him arandom farewell. He sprang to his feet, rushed up the sloping bank,and plunged into the forest.
All that day he traveled, laying his course by the rounding sun. Theforest seemed interminable; nowhere did he discover a break in it, noteven a woodman's road. He had not known that he lived in so wild aregion. There was something uncanny in the revelation.
By nightfall he was fatigued, footsore, famished. The thought of hiswife and children urged him on. At last he found a road which led himin what he knew