Page 8 of Dead Echo


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  The owner of PetaCollins Paper Mill during that period had been a certain Thomas Clark, a sixty year old philanthropist from Chicago and supposed distant relative of H.G. Wells, the writer. Or at least that’s what he told everyone. Known for his mysterious whims (orchids from South America for two years, ancient Irish metallurgy for five more, numerous endeavors and interests in between) he happened upon the idea of raising Hereford cattle on the huge tract of land the paper mill had owned for years.

  Once inflamed with an enterprising scheme, Clark was relentless. Within four months he owned 30-head of the finest producers he could nail down. By the end of the year he’d added 50 more. Some of the older-growth tracts were cleared for grazing, other areas sectioned off by barbwire with transition gates and a gang of wranglers to handle every day operations. And consequently a lively, lucrative operation for the first year or so.

  Until the cows began straying into Leszno’s Acres.

  Seven times in the course of three months they were found in the boggy southern extremity, having broken down the same stretch of fence every time. But when they were discovered, none save the few on the PetaCollins side of the fence were still alive. All of the others (eight the first time, to a record of fifteen on the fifth) were stone dead. Some found hunched on the ground as if at rest, the others upright. All dead and as desiccated as Egyptian mummies. According to one clandestine report, a wrangler had taken his Bowie knife and cut into one them. In the absence of blood or resistance he’d removed a square of flesh from the animal almost nine inches thick and as dry and brittle as a sponge left all day in the sun. The vet couldn’t explain it, nor could any of the local cattle wizards, and with the persistence of the cattle to return to the same deadly place, Mr. Clark soon found new interests and sold off what remained of his herd. That was in September of 1948.

  Nothing else of significance is known to have happened in the short span of decade left.