My mind struggled with the problem, trying its utmost to achieve some form of activity. But it had no eyes, no hands, no limbs, no ears, no nose, no mouth, with which to accomplish anything. It was steam without the engine, electricity without the motor, energy without the necessary mechanism for transmitting it to power, soul without the body.
"Let me die outright!" I prayed. "Annihilation is better than this mere mentality afloat in nothing. . . ."
A little twinkle of light showed itself in the utter darkness. Then another, and another. And again the stars came into being.
But, by this time they were receding and I began dropping back to the dear old earth.
"This is resurrection!" I thought gladly. "Life—and Movement! . . ."
I felt my body returning to me as something warm, and sensitive, and oh! so human! Never was home more welcome to a weary traveller than was this uprush of sensuous consciousness to my isolated and lonely brain.
As the first sounds of the outside world broke on my ears again, I opened my eyes and was surprised to find myself contemplating the intense blue of a tropical sky.
I was lying on the grass, a few yards from our cage, and when I raised my head I saw Stringer panting and puffing over the prostrate form of our latest capture. Single-handed, he was trying to bind the brute's arms and legs.
"What's happened?" I cried, sitting up dizzily.
"You got a whiff of that gas, young man, and I had to drag you out into the open. If you can, give me a hand before he comes round."