staring eyes were too terrible ever to
forget.

And into this still, cobweb-hued hollow we dropped--dropped almost
straight down over the flanks of those lean, lank mountains that fringed
it so forlornly. Here, ringed all around by desolate heights, we were as
remote from the world as if we were in some sallow solitude of the moon.
Sometimes the valley was like a gaping mouth, and the lips of it were
livid grey. Sometimes it was like a cup into which the sunset poured a
golden wine and filled it quivering to the brim. Sometimes it was like a
grey grave full of silence. And here in this place of shadows, where the
lichen strangled the trees, and under-foot the moss hushed the tread,
where we spoke in whispers, and mirth seemed a mockery, where every
stick and stone seemed eloquent of disenchantment and despair, here in
this valley of Dead Things we found Jim.

He was sitting by a dying camp-fire, all huddled up, his arms embracing
his knees, his eyes on the fading embers. As we drew near he did not
move, did not show any surprise, did not even raise his head. His face
was very pale and drawn into a pucker of pain. It was the queerest look
I ever saw on a man's face. It made me creep.

His eyes followed us furtively. Silently we squatted in a ring round his
camp-fire. For a while we said no word, then at last the Prodigal spoke:

"Jim, you're coming back with us, aren't you?"

Jim looked at him.

"Hush!" says he, "don't speak so loud. You'll waken all them dead
fellows."

"What d'ye mean?"

"Them dead fellows. The woods is full of them, them that can't rest.
They're all around, ghosts. At night, when I'm a-sittin' over the fire,
they crawl out of the darkness, an' they get close to me, closer,
closer, an' they whisper things. Then I get scared an' I shoo them
away."

"What do they whisper, Jim?"

"Oh say! they tell me all kinds of things, them fellows in the woods.
They tell me of the times they used to have here in the valley; an' how
they was a great people, an' had women an' slaves; how they fought an'
sang an' got drunk, an' how their kingdom was here, right here where
it's all death an' desolation. An' how they conquered all the other
folks around an' killed the men an' captured the women. Oh, it was long,
long ago, long before the flood!"

"Well, Jim, never mind them. Get your pack ready. We're going home right
now."

"Goin' home?--I've no home any more. I'm a fugitive an' a vagabond in
the earth. T