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THE HAUNTED FOREST
THE HAUNTED FOREST
(“The Curse of the Raven” fragment)
By Roger Vilar
The forest had been already very dense and stopped the rays of the autumn sun. This began to scare me because I was completely alone in the middle of that forest similar to the infinity. Suddenly the woods ended and I went out to a large rock from which I could see a deep ravine. The landscape that I saw in front of me returned to be beautiful and full of light, but I saw beyond the ravine how the far away fog spread across the mountains. At that moment, I heard the unmistakable howling of a pack of wolves. The beasts were keeping track of some deer, or some elk, which would soon die eaten by the predators.
The wolves are the most beautiful machine to kill. I remembered an article read four months ago. In this, the author said that since the early 20th century scientists at Oregon State University attribute recent recovery of the aspen to the reintroduction of wolves in Greystone National Park, which has changed the grazing habits of elks. I was before the perfect harmony of nature by which death can produce life and life can produce death.
I thought that maybe it was four o'clock in the afternoon, the landscape before me was still glowing. I was glad, and even neither the cries of agony of the elk saddened me. I knew that the wolves had been victims of the worst of the predators, we the men. Park Services hunters by 1926 they had killed 136 wolves, and wolves were virtually eliminated from Greystone, but the damned and at the same time beautiful seed it had re-arisen. Hardly two decades ago, the wolves regained their territory and now they could kill mercilessly.
While I was thinking about harmony of nature I did not realize that time was flying. The sun had almost vanished beyond the mountains, and the cold had risen from ravines, from caves, and from the darkest and most mysterious corners of the huge forest. The roar of a bear brought me back to reality. I knew that I should come back immediately to the Walden house. I left that rock and returned by the same road, or, rather, by what I assumed was the same path. The mist rose from the deep canyons of Greystone's woods and soon I could not see beyond a yard.
My fear increased quickly. I walked, groping for the trees and the stones. I heard the bear's roar again. The dreadful fury of the beast made me shivered with fear; I knew Greystone was inhabited an estimated six hundred grizzly. If a grizzly attacked me, he would shatter my body. I walked faster, so I started stumbling against the stones and against the trees. I was falling all the time, for that reason soon I was full of wounds and blows. I could not continue walking.
Between the cold rising and the heavy fog, I felt that I was very alone in the world and that neither the trees, nor the stones, nor the caves, nor anything in general existed. I had the assurance that there was only the huge beast that lurk over me. I felt again the same thing as the day before, when the raven chased me through the forest. An infinite silence seemed to destroy all things. The woods would turn into the great void, I assumed. I stayed, surely, in front of an indefinable presence.
It was invisible, it made no noise, but I was certain that I was facing something strange and evil. I was just in a strange mental state. I did not know if I slept or was awake, I did not know if the grizzly had already shattered me or if I was still alive. I lost the whole sense of the reality. I did not know whether taking place a week, one day or one minute, but I woke up by the trills of birds and by the rays of the sun on my face. The Walden House was opposite me, more beautiful than ever and brightened for the sun’s kindness.
