The Black Mask — page 83: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Valley Where Dead Men Live By Harold Ward I HAVE passed through The Valley Where Dead Men Live. My eyes have looked upon sights which God did not intend that man should see. My life must pay the for- feit. As a man of science, you may be interested in hearing what I have to say —and I must unburden myself to some- one before I pass out into the Great Unknown. But five days have passed since I said good-bye to old Sourdough Jamison. It seems as many centuries.” Professor Parmalee gave the speaker a quick glance. “Did I understand you to say that you left Jamison’s five days ago? Are you sure about that?” The man on the cot nodded. “On the twentieth of June, to be exact.” “There is no possibility of your be- ing mistaken ?” “None whatever. My diary will prove it. I made my last entry the night before I left Sourdough’s place— on the nineteenth.” The professor sat silent for a sec- ond. “There is something wrong with your story, Blake. The nearest route over the mountains, from here, is by way of Chicahoochie pass, which would make the distance from this point to Sourdough Jamison’s cabin a matter of over a hundred and fifty miles. This is the twenty-fifth of June. A well man couldn’t do it. It is an impossibility _ for you to have made it in five days in your weakened condition. Not that I wish to dispute your word, but—” B. A The sick man smiled wanly. “Don’t you see, professor, that your own state- ment helps to support my story? I tell you that I wandered into an undiscov- ered route through the mountains. You say that you picked me up half an hour ago lying exhausted and unconscious a few rods from your camp. That being the case, the entrance to The Valley Where Dead Men Live, on this side of the range, must be near at hand.” “You'll say I’m crazy when I tell you that I have seen living dead men! Dead men who do not know that they are dead. Can you imagine it? No? Nei- ther could I if I had not seen it myself. I’ve been through the Valley of the Living Dead and came out alive! [ve seen them—living dead men—by the millions and millions, fighting, stab- bing, shooting—tearing at each other’s throats like maddened beasts! And beasts they are, maddened by blood! Blood flows in rivers in the valley where the dead men live. It’s the rage they were in when they died. They:carried . it-on with them beyond the grave and they’re fighting it out in there! “Can’t you hear the rumble of can- non? Listen! You think that it’s thunder. But it’s not. And those flashes that you notice just over the brow of the mountain! The flashes of the big guns, man—spirit guns! No, no. It’s not lightning. I’m telling you the truth. I know that you think I’m ‘insane. I don’t blame you.’ He stopped suddenly, his nostrils di- lating. “Take a whiff of that breeze, 81