Read Eldritch Tales: A Miscellany of the Macabre Page 4


  Starving would prove my ultimate fate; of this I was certain. Some, I knew, had gone mad under circumstances such as these, but I felt that this end would not be mine. My disaster was the result of no fault save my own, since unknown to the guide I had separated myself from the regular party of sightseers; and, wandering for over an hour in forbidden avenues of the cave, had found myself unable to retrace the devious windings which I had pursued since forsaking my companions.

  Already my torch had begun to expire; soon I would be enveloped by the total and almost palpable blackness of the bowels of the earth. As I stood in the waning, unsteady light, I idly wondered over the exact circumstances of my coming end. I remembered the accounts which I had heard of the colony of consumptives, who, taking their residence in this gigantic grotto to find health from the apparently salubrious air of the underground world, with its steady, uniform temperature, pure air, and peaceful quiet, had found, instead, death in strange and ghastly form. I had seen the sad remains of their ill-made cottages as I passed them by with the party, and had wondered what unnatural influence a long sojourn in this immense and silent cavern would exert upon one as healthy and vigorous as I. Now, I grimly told myself, my opportunity for settling this point had arrived, provided that want of food should not bring me too speedy a departure from this life.

  As the last fitful rays of my torch faded into obscurity, I resolved to leave no stone unturned, no possible means of escape neglected; so, summoning all the powers possessed by my lungs, I set up a series of loud shoutings, in the vain hope of attracting the attention of the guide by my clamour. Yet, as I called, I believed in my heart that my cries were to no purpose, and that my voice, magnified and reflected by the numberless ramparts of the black maze about me, fell upon no ears save my own.

  All at once, however, my attention was fixed with a start as I fancied that I heard the sound of soft approaching steps on the rocky floor of the cavern.

  Was my deliverance about to be accomplished so soon? Had, then, all my horrible apprehensions been for naught, and was the guide, having marked my unwarranted absence from the party, following my course and seeking me out in this limestone labyrinth? Whilst these joyful queries arose in my brain, I was on the point of renewing my cries, in order that my discovery might come the sooner, when in an instant my delight was turned to horror as I listened; for my ever acute ear, now sharpened in even greater degree by the complete silence of the cave, bore to my benumbed understanding the unexpected and dreadful knowledge that these footfalls were not like those of any mortal man. In the unearthly stillness of this subterranean region, the tread of the booted guide would have sounded like a series of sharp and incisive blows. These impacts were soft, and stealthy, as of the paws of some feline. Besides, when I listened carefully, I seemed to trace the falls of four instead of two feet.

  I was now convinced that I had by my own cries aroused and attracted some wild beast, perhaps a mountain lion which had accidentally strayed within the cave. Perhaps, I considered, the Almighty had chosen for me a swifter and more merciful death than that of hunger; yet the instinct of self-preservation, never wholly dormant, was stirred in my breast, and though escape from the on-coming peril might but spare me for a sterner and more lingering end, I determined nevertheless to part with my life at as high a price as I could command. Strange as it may seem, my mind conceived of no intent on the part of the visitor save that of hostility. Accordingly, I became very quiet, in the hope that the unknown beast would, in the absence of a guiding sound, lose its direction as had I, and thus pass me by. But this hope was not destined for realisation, for the strange footfalls steadily advanced, the animal evidently having obtained my scent, which in an atmosphere so absolutely free from all distracting influences as is that of the cave, could doubtless be followed at great distance.

  Seeing therefore that I must be armed for defence against an uncanny and unseen attack in the dark, I groped about me the largest of the fragments of rock which were strewn upon all parts of the floor of the cavern in the vicinity, and grasping one in each hand for immediate use, awaited with resignation the inevitable result. Meanwhile the hideous pattering of the paws drew near. Certainly, the conduct of the creature was exceedingly strange. Most of the time, the tread seemed to be that of a quadruped, walking with a singular lack of unison betwixt hind and fore feet, yet at brief and infrequent intervals I fancied that but two feet were engaged in the process of locomotion. I wondered what species of animal was to confront me; it must, I thought, be some unfortunate beast who had paid for its curiosity to investigate one of the entrances of the fearful grotto with a life-long confinement in its interminable recesses. It doubtless obtained as food the eyeless fish, bats and rats of the cave, as well as some of the ordinary fish that are wafted in at every freshet of Green River, which communicates in some occult manner with the waters of the cave. I occupied my terrible vigil with grotesque conjectures of what alteration cave life might have wrought in the physical structure of the beast, remembering the awful appearances ascribed by local tradition to the consumptives who had died after long residence in the cave. Then I remembered with a start that, even should I succeed in felling my antagonist, I should never behold its form, as my torch had long since been extinct, and I was entirely unprovided with matches. The tension on my brain now became frightful. My disordered fancy conjured up hideous and fearsome shapes from the sinister darkness that surrounded me, and that actually seemed to press upon my body. Nearer, nearer, the dreadful footfalls approached. It seemed that I must give vent to a piercing scream, yet had I been sufficiently irresolute to attempt such a thing, my voice could scarce have responded. I was petrified, rooted to the spot. I doubted if my right arm would allow me to hurl its missile at the oncoming thing when the crucial moment should arrive. Now the steady pat, pat, of the steps was close at hand; now very close. I could hear the laboured breathing of the animal, and terror-struck as I was, I realised that it must have come from a considerable distance, and was correspondingly fatigued. Suddenly the spell broke. My right hand, guided by my ever trustworthy sense of hearing, threw with full force the sharp-angled bit of limestone which it contained, toward that point in the darkness from which emanated the breathing and pattering, and, wonderful to relate, it nearly reached its goal, for I heard the thing jump, landing at a distance away, where it seemed to pause.

  Having readjusted my aim, I discharged my second missile, this time most effectively, for with a flood of joy I listened as the creature fell in what sounded like a complete collapse and evidently remained prone and unmoving. Almost overpowered by the great relief which rushed over me, I reeled back against the wall. The breathing continued, in heavy, gasping inhalations and expirations, whence I realised that I had no more than wounded the creature. And now all desire to examine the thing ceased. At last something allied to groundless, superstitious fear had entered my brain, and I did not approach the body, nor did I continue to cast stones at it in order to complete the extinction of its life. Instead, I ran at full speed in what was, as nearly as I could estimate in my frenzied condition, the direction from which I had come. Suddenly I heard a sound or rather, a regular succession of sounds. In another instant they had resolved themselves into a series of sharp, metallic clicks. This time there was no doubt. It was the guide. And then I shouted, yelled, screamed, even shrieked with joy as I beheld in the vaulted arches above the faint and glimmering effulgence which I knew to be the reflected light of an approaching torch. I ran to meet the flare, and before I could completely understand what had occurred, was lying upon the ground at the feet of the guide, embracing his boots and gibbering, despite my boasted reserve, in a most meaningless and idiotic manner, pouring out my terrible story, and at the same time overwhelming my auditor with protestations of gratitude. At length, I awoke to something like my normal consciousness. The guide had noted my absence upon the arrival of the party at the entrance of the cave, and had, from his own intuitive sense of direction, proceeded to m
ake a thorough canvass of by-passages just ahead of where he had last spoken to me, locating my whereabouts after a quest of about four hours.

  By the time he had related this to me, I, emboldened by his torch and his company, began to reflect upon the strange beast which I had wounded but a short distance back in the darkness, and suggested that we ascertain, by the flashlight’s aid, what manner of creature was my victim. Accordingly I retraced my steps, this time with a courage born of companionship, to the scene of my terrible experience. Soon we descried a white object upon the floor, an object whiter even than the gleaming limestone itself. Cautiously advancing, we gave vent to a simultaneous ejaculation of wonderment, for of all the unnatural monsters either of us had in our lifetimes beheld, this was in surpassing degree the strangest. It appeared to be an anthropoid ape of large proportions, escaped, perhaps, from some itinerant menagerie. Its hair was snow-white, a thing due no doubt to the bleaching action of a long existence within the inky confines of the cave, but it was also surprisingly thin, being indeed largely absent save on the head, where it was of such length and abundance that it fell over the shoulders in considerable profusion. The face was turned away from us, as the creature lay almost directly upon it. The inclination of the limbs was very singular, explaining, however, the alternation in their use which I had before noted, whereby the beast used sometimes all four, and on other occasions but two for its progress. From the tips of the fingers or toes, long rat-like claws extended. The hands or feet were not prehensile, a fact that I ascribed to that long residence in the cave which, as I before mentioned, seemed evident from the all-pervading and almost unearthly whiteness so characteristic of the whole anatomy. No tail seemed to be present.

  The respiration had now grown very feeble, and the guide had drawn his pistol with the evident intent of despatching the creature, when a sudden sound emitted by the latter caused the weapon to fall unused. The sound was of a nature difficult to describe. It was not like the normal note of any known species of simian, and I wonder if this unnatural quality were not the result of a long continued and complete silence, broken by the sensations produced by the advent of the light, a thing which the beast could not have seen since its first entrance into the cave. The sound, which I might feebly attempt to classify as a kind of deep-tone chattering, was faintly continued.

  All at once a fleeting spasm of energy seemed to pass through the frame of the beast. The paws went through a convulsive motion, and the limbs contracted. With a jerk, the white body rolled over so that its face was turned in our direction. For a moment I was so struck with horror at the eyes thus revealed that I noted nothing else. They were black, those eyes, deep jetty black, in hideous contrast to the snow-white hair and flesh. Like those of other cave denizens, they were deeply sunken in their orbits, and were entirely destitute of iris. As I looked more closely, I saw that they were set in a face less prognathous than that of the average ape, and infinitely less hairy. The nose was quite distinct. As we gazed upon the uncanny sight presented to our vision, the thick lips opened, and several sounds issued from them, after which the thing relaxed in death.

  The guide clutched my coat sleeve and trembled so violently that the light shook fitfully, casting weird moving shadows on the walls.

  I made no motion, but stood rigidly still, my horrified eyes fixed upon the floor ahead.

  The fear left, and wonder, awe, compassion, and reverence succeeded in its place, for the sounds uttered by the stricken figure that lay stretched out on the limestone had told us the awesome truth. The creature I had killed, the strange beast of the unfathomed cave, was, or had at one time been a MAN!!!

  THE POE-ET’S NIGHTMARE

  A Fable

  Luxus tumultus semper causa est.

  LUCULLUS LANGUISH, student of the skies,

  And connoisseur of rarebits and mince pies,

  A bard by choice, a grocer’s clerk by trade,

  (Grown pessimist thro’ honours long delay’d),

  A secret yearning bore, that he might shine

  In breathing numbers, and in song divine.

  Each day his fountain pen was wont to drop

  An ode or dirge or two about the shop,

  Yet naught could strike the chord within his heart

  That throbb’d for poesy, and cry’d for art.

  Each eve he sought his bashful Muse to wake

  With overdoses of ice-cream and cake;

  But thou’ th’ ambitious youth a dreamer grew,

  Th’ Aonian Nymph declin’d to come to view.

  Sometimes at dusk he scour’d the heav’ns afar,

  Searching for raptures in the evening star;

  One night he strove to catch a tale untold

  In crystal deeps – but only caught a cold.

  So pin’d Lucullus with his lofty woe,

  Till one drear day he bought a set of Poe:

  Charm’d with the cheerful horrors there display’d,

  He vow’d with gloom to woo the Heav’nly Maid.

  Of Auber’s tarn and Yaanek’s slope he dreams,

  And weaves an hundred Ravens in his schemes.

  Not far from our young hero’s peaceful home

  Lies the fair grove wherein he loves to roam.

  Tho’ but a stunted copse in vacant lot,

  He dubs it Tempe, and adores the spot;

  When shallow puddles dot the wooded plain,

  And brim o’er muddy banks with muddy rain,

  He calls them limpid lakes or poison pools

  (Depending on which bard his fancy rules).

  ’Tis here he comes with Heliconian fire

  On Sundays when he smites the Attic lyre;

  And here one afternoon he brought his gloom,

  Resolv’d to chant a poet’s lay of doom.

  Roget’s Thesaurus, and a book of rhymes,

  Provide the rungs whereon his spirit climbs:

  With this grave retinue he trod the grove

  And pray’d the Fauns he might a Poe-et prove.

  But sad to tell, ere Pegasus flew high,

  The not unrelish’d supper hour drew nigh;

  Our tuneful swain th’ imperious call attends,

  And soon above the groaning table bends.

  Tho’ it were too prosaic to relate

  Th’ exact particulars of what he ate

  (Such long-drawn lists the hasty reader skips,

  Like Homer’s well-known catalogue of ships),

  This much we swear: that as adjournment near’d,

  A monstrous lot of cake had disappear’d!

  Soon to his chamber the young bard repairs,

  And courts soft Somnus with sweet Lydian airs;

  Thro’ open casement scans the star-strown deep,

  And ’neath Orion’s beams sinks off to sleep.

  Now start from airy dell the elfin train

  That dance each midnight o’er the sleeping plain,

  To bless the just, or cast a warning spell

  On those who dine not wisely, but too well.

  First Deacon Smith they plague, whose nasal glow

  Comes from what Holmes hath call’d ‘Elixir Pro’;

  Group’d round the couch his visage they deride,

  Whilst thro’ his dreams unnumber’d serpents glide.

  Next troop the little folk into the room

  Where snores our young Endymion, swath’d in gloom:

  A smile lights up his boyish face, whilst he

  Dreams of the moon – or what he ate at tea.

  The chieftain elf th’ unconscious youth surveys,

  And on his form a strange enchantment lays:

  Those lips, that lately thrill’d with frosted cake,

  Uneasy sounds in slumbrous fashion make;

  At length their owner’s fancies they rehearse,

  And lisp this awesome Poe-em in blank verse:

  Aletheia Phrikodes

  Omnia risus et omnia pulvis et omnia nihil.

  Demoniac clouds, u
p-pil’d in chasmy reach

  Of soundless heav’n, smother’d the brooding night;

  Nor came the wonted whisp’rings of the swamp,

  Nor voice of autumn wind along the moor,

  Nor mutter’d noises of th’ insomnious grove

  Whose black recesses never saw the sun.

  Within that grove a hideous hollow lies,

  Half bare of trees; a pool in centre lurks

  That none dares sound; a tarn of murky face

  (Tho’ naught can prove its hue, since light of day,

  Affrighted, shuns the forest-shadow’d banks).

  Hard by, a yawning hillside grotto breathes,

  From deeps unvisited, a dull, dank air

  That sears the leaves on certain stunted trees

  Which stand about, clawing the spectral gloom

  With evil boughs. To this accursed dell

  Come woodland creatures, seldom to depart:

  Once I behold, upon a crumbling stone

  Set altar-like before the cave, a thing

  I saw not clearly, yet from glimpsing, fled.

  In this half-dusk I meditate alone

  At many a weary noontide, when without

  A world forgets me in its sun-blest mirth.

  Here howl by night the werewolves, and the souls

  Of those that knew me well in other days.

  Yet on this night the grove spake not to me;

  Nor spake the swamp, nor wind along the moor,

  Nor moan’d the wind about the lonely eaves

  Of the bleak, haunted pile wherein I lay.

  I was afraid to sleep, or quench the spark

  Of the low-burning taper by my couch.

  I was afraid when thro’ the vaulted space

  Of the old tow’r, the clock-ticks died away

  Into a silence so profound and chill