We left Lovington in the morning, and after a leisurely trip with a few stops for “sighting,” made camp in a little arroyo leading up to the Ridge. The day had been wonderfully clear, and in the early twilight I worked on my notes while Olin built a small fire of cedar and mesquite and prepared the coffee and bacon. After supper we lit our pipes and talked over various things until about nine, when we crawled into our sleeping bags.
It was some time before I dropped off, as there were several problems connected with the trip that I kept reviewing in my mind. I could hear Olin’s steady breathing, and envied him his ability to sleep soundly under any conditions. Up from the east swam a large, perfect full moon, flooding our camp in the little arroyo with its cold light. From far away came the indistinct, silly yapping of a couple of coyotes, and I could hear the horses stirring uneasily. Finally I fell asleep, and it seemed as though I had hardly closed my eyes when something—perhaps a sound, or maybe a premonition of something wrong—caused me to become wide awake. I sat up and, noticing that the moon was now overhead, looked at my wrist watch. It was almost one o’clock.
There seemed to be nothing amiss. Olin was snoring peacefully, the coyotes were no longer serenading the moon, only a little breeze was moving the tops of the mesquite brushes. I glanced over to where the horses had been tethered, and saw that they were very restive. Thinking that perhaps some coyote was skulking about our camp, I crawled out of my sleeping bag, took my rifle, and went over to where the horses were trembling and straining at their tethers. They were apparently scared at something immediately in front of them, as they both gazed with bulging eyes in the same direction. Aside from a large rock and a few straggling sotol plants, I could see nothing to cause their fear. Thinking that perhaps, some creature had hidden behind the rock, I made my way in a wide circle around it, but there was nothing I could see to explain the horses’ fright. I went to them and stroked their noses; this calmed them somewhat, but they continued to gaze fearfully at the rock.
IT came over me like a flash that I had not noticed that rock when we made camp—in fact, being now fully wide awake, I recalled that there was no large rock of any kind near our camp. I blinked my eyes and pinched myself to see if I was really awake. Could I have been mistaken about my first impression of our camp site, and have overlooked an object as large as that rock? My work has always called for keen observation, and it was absurd to think that if a fairly sizable boulder had been in sight, especially all by itself as this one was, I would have failed to note it. Yet there it was, gleaming dully in the moonlight, apparently firmly imbedded in the ground. But it couldn’t (I reasoned) have been there when we first arrived. Imagine two geologists failing to see a rock of that size! How in the world could it have gotten there? Was it placed there by someone during the night, while we slept? And if so, why? But I had not noticed any footprints around it. It was obvious that it could not have rolled from anywhere. It had not been there four hours ago, it had not been carried, it had not rolled . . .
In all my experiences in out-of-the-way, God-forsaken places, I have never known fear. I have been shot at by Mexicans, held up by thugs, even bitten by a rattlesnake—but nothing has ever made me afraid. Not even intense shell fire on the Western Front, where I had served the last month of the war as an infantry captain in the 8th Division, ever made me aware of danger. I was cited once by the French government for bravery, but I take no credit for that. It is simply my make-up—I have no “nerves.” But now—this inexplicable rock appearing from nowhere—the very obvious fear it instilled in the horses—
My first impulse was to waken Olin and tell him of this startling phenomenon. The remote possibility that I might be mistaken, and had for some reason failed to notice this rock, due to my absorption in my note making, deterred me. How Olin would laugh at me if I roused him because of some foolish fancy about an innocent boulder that had been there all the time. He would never get done guying the life out of me. But I was positive that it had not been there when we made camp.
I was debating whether to investigate the rock and prove once for all there was no cause for alarm, or arouse Olin and get his opinion, when the rock was suddenly thrown back and I could see that it was only a hollow camouflage over a hole in the ground. Before I could cry out, I was seized from behind and strong hands had placed a gag in my mouth and a bandage over my eyes. I attempted to struggle, but my efforts were useless. It was as though my arms and legs were held in a powerful vise. Something sweetish that may have been chloroform was held over my nose, and before I lost consciousness I heard the squeal of a horse and the pounding of his hoofs as he broke from his tether and ran. There was no sound of any kind from my captors. I was dimly aware of being carried in powerful arms and laid upon some smooth surface that seemed to sink beneath me as darkness pressed upon me and I knew no more.
HOW long it was before I regained consciousness I do not know. I seemed to hear a sort of droning sound, like the faraway purr of an aeroplane motor. For a stupefied instant I believed I was again in my sleeping bag, awakening from a bad dream. Then the recollection of the hollow rock and my silent capture by strong hands seizing me swiftly from behind, the thundering hoofs of the frightened horse, came over me with sickening vividness. Cautiously I moved my arms and legs, and found that they were not bound. Neither was there a gag in my mouth or a bandage over my eyes. It was too dark to see anything of my surroundings, but I could feel that I was lying on a gently sloping, smooth, cold stone floor. I got unsteadily to my feet and carefully extended my hands above my head. Though I reached upward as far as I could, I could touch nothing. I got down on my knees and groped around, crawling several feet in every direction, and encountered no obstacle of any kind—only the smooth, dry stone that was the floor of my strange prison.