Farsis

I awoke to find myself lying upon a carpet of broad leaves, looking up into a leafy green canopy seemingly a hundred feet above me. I could not see much farther than fifty feet in any direction, owing to the great density of the forest, except straight up, for the vegetation grew thickest nearer the ground. The air was very humid and very warm, and difficult to breathe. But this was not my greatest problem. It seemed that my body was pressed to the ground by a thousand pounds; I could barely move. Suddenly I was caught up in a panic - I had no recollection of who I was or where I had come from, did not know where I was, and now, could not move save to turn my head from side to side or to open and close my hands. Gripped by a fear of the unknown, of what may lurk in this huge, dank forest, I resolved with Herculean effort to attempt to lift myself from the ground. First, with a few groans, I pulled my legs up. Then, using my left leg and arm managed to roll over onto my stomach. Now I was in a position to push off from the ground. With the sweat falling from my face, I was soon standing up, my legs shaking with the exertion. Walking proved to be difficult in the extreme, and so I had to resort to a most ignoble method of locomotion; crawling about on my hands and knees. In this way I began to explore my surroundings.

As I crawled on the ground among the leaves, weeds and bushes, I noticed that many of these plants bore various exotic looking fruit. These I dared not sample, for fear of poisoning, although they looked nutritious enough. In any case it was not food but water which was my more immediate concern, for I was soon assailed by thirst. After a period of what seemed like hours, during which time I was forced to pause and lay face down to rest, I had the good fortune to chance upon a small stream. This stream was perhaps five feet wide and only inches deep, with smooth stones visible beneath the clear water. Its source was a thirty foot high natural wall of rock, from which the water emerged in a white rush through a narrow aperture part way up the cliff. In the opposite direction, the stream meandered off and disappeared into the leafy fastness of the forest.

Plunging my face into the cool flowing water, I drank deeply of the delicious life sustaining liquid. Only when one has been without this precious resource does one truly appreciate its value. Feeling much refreshed, I stood on still shaky legs and walked to the rocky cliff. Here I sat down next to the little waterfall. Now that thirst was conquered my hunger was more pronounced and so I decided to chance some of the strange looking fruit. I pulled one, orange colored and S-shaped, from a bush located conveniently next to me and bit into it. The taste was not unpleasant, somewhat like a melon and soon I had devoured it. This unusual fruit seemed to have the effect of further refreshing and strengthening my body.

In addition to my body, my mind seemed refreshed as well. Until now I had been in a sort of mental fog, like the feeling one has when first awakening from a deep sleep. Memory began to return to me little by little, in bits and pieces.

My name is James Powell. I am writing this account of my otherworldly experience in the year 1997. I am a very old man, almost one hundred years, of which I spent for the most part on another world. How I returned to eventually relate this tale I cannot divulge. You may be assured that every word is true, or you may take it as a work of fiction. It seems to me that I would have to look with a suspicious eye upon the veracity of my story, were I in your position. I am now an American, although originally from Australia. Born in 1899 in the great untamed Outback, my childhood was a lesson in survival and self-reliance. But my upbringing was to prepare me well for future events. In that terrible human tragedy known then as the Great War and today as World War One, I lived and fought in the trenches of the western front for two long years, as a member of an Australian contingent, from November 1916 until the end of the war. Somehow I survived, both alive and unwounded. Commissioned in the field and decorated with the Victoria Cross for bravery, I was nevertheless exceedingly glad when the bloodbath was over. After returning home for a short time, I immigrated to the United States. I had been offered a position as a park ranger (by a former US Army Captain, Kevan Bartell, an acquaintance of mine from the war) at Yosemite National Park. I gladly accepted this offer and found the work much suited to my nature. In time I became a naturalized US citizen and a senior ranger at the park. All was well until August 1926.

One summer evening I was out horseback riding around the park, as had become my habit. It was a beautiful cloudless night. The many stars in their familiar constellations were out, shining with all their splendor. On the whole it was an enchanting sight; the dark silhouette of the tall forest trees, the glow of several distant campfires, and the starry vault of the heavens. Among the stars I noticed a moving point of light. At first it seemed to be just another meteor, but this one soon grew in the sky and developed a rather long tail. This falling star turned from white to red, and then, quite to my astonishment, impacted the ground less than a mile from my location. One of the great redwoods had been damaged and a fire appeared to have started. I immediately urged my mount forward and galloped off towards the impact site.

In a short time I reined up at the scene of the crash. The meteor lay in a crater perhaps twenty yards across, although the meteor itself was scarcely five feet in diameter. Much underbrush and a few smaller trees were destroyed in the immediate vicinity of the crater. The meteor was still glowing red. It also had a charred appearance and generated considerable heat. As I watched, the thing split open, revealing an inner sphere, which was absolutely black. The blackness was like a thing of substance, yet its outline was indistinct. I lit my lamp, but the ball of darkness, to my surprise, remained impenetrable to my sight. It was then that my mount, evidently growing nervous in such close proximity to such a strange, otherworldly object, reared and threw me from his back. I fell into the crater and tumbled into the sphere of blackness, losing consciousness. This was my last memory prior to awakening - evidently, and incredible as it may seem, that strange ball of shadow had teleported me to another world.