the jacket (the star-rover)-第13节

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their　coherence　and　continuity。　　Often　I　addressed　bodies　of

scientists　on　abstruse　subjects；　reading　aloud　to　them　carefully

prepared　papers　on　my　own　researches　or　on　my　own　deductions　from

the　researches　and　experiments　of　others。　　When　I　awakened　my　voice

would　seem　still　ringing　in　my　ears；　while　my　eyes　still　could　see

typed　on　the　white　paper　whole　sentences　and　paragraphs　that　I　could

read　again　and　marvel　at　ere　the　vision　faded。　　In　passing；　I　call

attention　to　the　fact　that　at　the　time　I　noted　that　the　process　of

reasoning　employed　in　these　dream　speeches　was　invariably　deductive。



Then　there　was　a　great　farming　section；　extending　north　and　south

for　hundreds　of　miles　in　some　part　of　the　temperate　regions；　with　a

climate　and　flora　and　fauna　largely　resembling　those　of　California。

Not　once；　nor　twice；　but　thousands　of　different　times　I　journeyed

through　this　dream…region。　　The　point　I　desire　to　call　attention　to

was　that　it　was　always　the　same　region。　　No　essential　feature　of　it

ever　differed　in　the　different　dreams。　　Thus　it　was　always　an　eight…

hour　drive　behind　mountain　horses　from　the　alfalfa　meadows　（where　I

kept　many　Jersey　cows）　to　the　straggly　village　beside　the　big　dry

creek；　where　I　caught　the　little　narrow…gauge　train。　　Every　land…

mark　in　that　eight…hour　drive　in　the　mountain　buckboard；　every　tree；

every　mountain；　every　ford　and　bridge；　every　ridge　and　eroded

hillside　was　ever　the　same。



In　this　coherent；　rational　farm…region　of　my　strait…jacket　dreams

the　minor　details；　according　to　season　and　to　the　labour　of　men；　did

change。　　Thus　on　the　upland　pastures　behind　my　alfalfa　meadows　I

developed　a　new　farm　with　the　aid　of　Angora　goats。　　Here　I　marked

the　changes　with　every　dream…visit；　and　the　changes　were　in

accordance　with　the　time　that　elapsed　between　visits。



Oh；　those　brush…covered　slopes！　　How　I　can　see　them　now　just　as　when

the　goats　were　first　introduced。　　And　how　I　remembered　the

consequent　changesthe　paths　beginning　to　form　as　the　goats

literally　ate　their　way　through　the　dense　thickets；　the

disappearance　of　the　younger；　smaller　bushes　that　were　not　too　tall

for　total　browsing；　the　vistas　that　formed　in　all　directions　through

the　older；　taller　bushes；　as　the　goats　browsed　as　high　as　they　could

stand　and　reach　on　their　hind　legs；　the　driftage　of　the　pasture

grasses　that　followed　in　the　wake　of　the　clearing　by　the　goats。

Yes；　the　continuity　of　such　dreaming　was　its　charm。　　Came　the　day

when　the　men　with　axes　chopped　down　all　the　taller　brush　so　as　to

give　the　goats　access　to　the　leaves　and　buds　and　bark。　　Came　the

day；　in　winter　weather；　when　the　dry　denuded　skeletons　of　all　these

bushes　were　gathered　into　heaps　and　burned。　　Came　the　day　when　I

moved　my　goats　on　to　other　brush…impregnable　hillsides；　with

following　in　their　wake　my　cattle；　pasturing　knee…deep　in　the

succulent　grasses　that　grew　where　before　had　been　only　brush。　　And

came　the　day　when　I　moved　my　cattle　on；　and　my　plough…men　went　back

and　forth　across　the　slopes'　contourploughing　the　rich　sod　under

to　rot　to　live　and　crawling　humous　in　which　to　bed　my　seeds　of　crops

to　be。



Yes；　and　in　my　dreams；　often；　I　got　off　the　little　narrow…gauge

train　where　the　straggly　village　stood　beside　the　big　dry　creek；　and

got　into　the　buck…board　behind　my　mountain　horses；　and　drove　hour　by

hour　past　all　the　old　familiar　landmarks　of　my　alfalfa　meadows；　and

on　to　my　upland　pastures　where　my　rotated　crops　of　corn　and　barley

and　clover　were　ripe　for　harvesting　and　where　I　watched　my　men

engaged　in　the　harvest；　while　beyond；　ever　climbing；　my　goats

browsed　the　higher　slopes　of　brush　into　cleared；　tilled　fields。



But　these　were　dreams；　frank　dreams；　fancied　adventures　of　my

deductive　subconscious　mind。　　Quite　unlike　them；　as　you　shall　see；

were　my　other　adventures　when　I　passed　through　the　gates　of　the

living　death　and　relived　the　reality　of　the　other　lives　that　had

been　mine　in　other　days。



In　the　long　hours　of　waking　in　the　jacket　I　found　that　I　dwelt　a

great　deal　on　Cecil　Winwood；　the　poet…forger　who　had　wantonly　put

all　this　torment　on　me；　and　who　was　even　then　at　liberty　out　in　the

free　world　again。　　No；　I　did　not　hate　him。　　The　word　is　too　weak。

There　is　no　word　in　the　language　strong　enough　to　describe　my

feelings。　　I　can　say　only　that　I　knew　the　gnawing　of　a　desire　for

vengeance　on　him　that　was　a　pain　in　itself　and　that　exceeded　all　the

bounds　of　language。　　I　shall　not　tell　you　of　the　hours　I　devoted　to

plans　of　torture　on　him；　nor　of　the　diabolical　means　and　devices　of

torture　that　I　invented　for　him。　　Just　one　example。　　I　was　enamoured

of　the　ancient　trick　whereby　an　iron　basin；　containing　a　rat；　is

fastened　to　a　man's　body。　　The　only　way　out　for　the　rat　is　through

the　man　himself。　　As　I　say；　I　was　enamoured　of　this　until　I　realized

that　such　a　death　was　too　quick；　whereupon　I　dwelt　long　and

favourably　on　the　Moorish　trick　ofbut　no；　I　promised　to　relate　no

further　of　this　matter。　　Let　it　suffice　that　many　of　my　pain…

maddening　waking　hours　were　devoted　to　dreams　of　vengeance　on　Cecil

Winwood。







CHAPTER　IX







One　thing　of　great　value　I　learned　in　the　long；　pain…weary　hours　of

wakingnamely；　the　mastery　of　the　body　by　the　mind。　　I　learned　to

suffer　passively；　as；　undoubtedly；　all　men　have　learned　who　have

passed　through　the　post…graduate　courses　of　strait…jacketing。　　Oh；

it　is　no　easy　trick　to　keep　the　brain　in　such　serene　repose　that　it

is　quite　oblivious　to　the　throbbing；　exquisite　complaint　of　some

tortured　nerve。



And　it　was　this　very　mastery　of　the　flesh　by　the　spirit　which　I　so

acquired　that　enabled　me　easily　to　practise　the　secret　Ed　Morrell

told　to　me。



〃Think　it　is　curtains？〃　Ed　Morrell　rapped　to　me　one　night。



I　had　just　been　released　from　one　hundred　hours；　and　I　was　weaker

than　I　had　ever　been　before。　　So　weak　was　I　that　though　my　whole

body　was　one　mass　of　bruise　and　misery；　nevertheless　I　scarcely　was

aware　that　I　had　a　body。



〃It　looks　like　curtains；〃　I　rapped　back。　　〃They　will　get　me　if　they

keep　it　up　much　longer。〃



〃Don't　let　them；〃　he　advised。　　〃There　is　a　way。　　I　learned　it

myself；　down　in　the　dungeons；　when　Massie　and　I　got　ours　good　and

plenty。　　I　pulled　through。　　But　Massie　croaked。　　If　I　hadn't　learned

the　trick；　I'd　have　croaked　along　with　him。　　You've　got　to　be　pretty

weak　first；　before　you　try　it。　　If　you　try　it　when　you　are　strong；

you　make　a　failure　of　it；　and　then　that　queers　you　for　ever　after。

I　made　the　mistake　of　telling　Jake　the　trick　when　he　was　strong。　　Of

course；　he　could　not　pull　it　off；　and　in　the　times　since　when　he　did

need　it；　it　was　too　late；　for　his　first　failure　had　queered　it。　　He

won't　even　believe　it　now。　　He　thinks　I　am　kidding　him。　　Ain't　that

right；　Jake？〃



And　from　cell　thirteen　Jake　rapped　back；　〃Don't　swallow　it；　Darrell。

It's　a　sure　fairy　story。〃



〃Go　on　and　tell　me；〃　I　rapped　to　Morrell。



〃That　is　why　I　waited　for　you　to　get　real　weak；〃　he　continued。　　〃Now

you　need　it；　and　I　am　going　to　tell　you。　　It's　up　to　you。　　If　you

have　got　the　will　you　can　do　it。　　I've　done　it　three　times；　and　I

know。〃



〃Well；　what　is　it？〃　I　rapped　eagerly。



〃The　trick　is　to　die　in　the　jacket；　to　will　yourself　to　die。　　I　know

you　don't　get　me　yet；　but　wait。　　You　know　how　you　get　numb　in　the

jackethow　your　arm　or　your　leg　goes　to　sleep。　　Now　you　can't　help

that；　but　you　can　take　it　for　the　idea　and　improve　on　it。　　Don't

wait　for　your　legs　or　anything　to　go　to　sleep。　　You　lie　on　your　back

as　comfortable　as　you　can　get；　and　you　begin　to　use　your　will。



〃And　this　is　the　idea　you　must　think　to　yourself；　and　that　you　must

believe　all　the　time　you're　thinking　it。　　If　you　don't　believe；　then

there's　nothing　to　it。　　The　thing　you　must　think　and　believe　is　that

your　body　is　one　thing　and　your　spirit　is　another　thing。　　You　are

you；　and　your　body　is　something　else　that　don't　amount　to　shucks。

Your　body　don't　count。　　You're　the　boss。　　You　don't　need　any　body。

And　thinking　and　believing　all　this　you　proceed　to　prove　it　by　using

your　will。　　You　make　your　body　die。



〃You　begin　with　the　toes；　one　at　a　time。　　You　make　your　toes　die。

You　will　them　to　die。　　And　if　you've　got　the　belief　and　the　will

your　toes　will　die。　　That　is　the　big　jobto　start　the　dying。　　Once

you've　got　the　first　toe　dead；　the　rest　is　easy；　for　you　don't　have

to　do　any　more　believing。　　You　know。　　Then　you　put　all　your　will

into　making　the　rest　of　the　body　die。　　I　tell　you；　Darrell；　I　know。

I've　done　it　three　times。



〃Once　you　get　the　dying　started；　it　goes　right　along。　　And　the　funny

thing　is　that　you　are　all　there　all　the　time。　　Because　your　toes　are

dead　don't　make　you　in　the　least　bit　dead。　　By…and…by　your　legs　are

dead　to　the　knees；　and　then　to　the　thighs；　and　you　are　just　the　same

as　you　always　were。　　It　is　your　body　that　is　dropping　out　of　the

game　a　chunk　at　a　time。　　And　you　are