Soon his mental wanderings became worse. He’d find himself having arguments with nearby trees, and once he believed himself to be playing the harmonica, only to awaken to see his pistol in his hand.
“Was I thinking of killing myself or something?” he asked.
The thought frightened him so much that he decided to not pack the weapon with him when he was out foraging. Instead, he’d carry his rifle for protection.
While checking his trap lines one afternoon, he found himself confronted by the same stranger who had rapped at his car window.
“Hallucination,” he laughed, as the stranger vanished.
Nowhere Nevada 