Speaker 1: Here are a few short tails, and they're true to
Speaker 1: the best of my knowledge. You're welcome to use my name.
Speaker 1: The other names are from people long gone or they
Speaker 1: had nicknames, and I hope you can use these stories.
Speaker 1: Only one is about a booger sisquatch, and it's a
Speaker 1: second hand story. But I noticed that you sometimes like
Speaker 1: to tell stories about other things that go bump in
Speaker 1: the night, So here we go. The first story is
Speaker 1: titled coach Whips. My mother used to tell us about
Speaker 1: a cousin. And I can't recall the old gal's name,
Speaker 1: but let's call her Myrtle. Myrtle was walking out under
Speaker 1: some trees and a pair of coach whips snakes. Those
Speaker 1: are black racers, and they probably have other names. They
Speaker 1: drop from the tree and one encircled each of Myrtle's arms.
Speaker 1: The snakes bit her and constricted so strongly that a
Speaker 1: male relative, I think his name was Uncle Jim, had
Speaker 1: to sever the heads of the snakes to force them
Speaker 1: to relinquish their grips. From then on, each season, when
Speaker 1: coach whips shed their skin, Myrtle's skin would peel along
Speaker 1: her arms where the snakes had attached themselves. When I
Speaker 1: was in my teens, a pair of the same breed
Speaker 1: of shiny black reptiles took up residence under our house.
Speaker 1: My mother knew they were non venomous, but was having
Speaker 1: none of it. She was typically a very gentle person,
Speaker 1: especially toward elders, children, and animals. However, because of the
Speaker 1: old family tale, she was terrified of this particular breed
Speaker 1: of snake. As I was about to step out the door,
Speaker 1: one of them raced out in front under the house
Speaker 1: near the front porch, in hot pursuit of a toad.
Speaker 1: I ran back in to fetch my shotgun and I
Speaker 1: got back to the porch around the same time as
Speaker 1: a snake. It had missed its last meal, but paused
Speaker 1: to raise its head, likely at my noise. The shot
Speaker 1: severed the thing's head. The snake's mate got into a
Speaker 1: red oak tree in the backyard, and that one had
Speaker 1: startled my mother. I again took up my shotgun while
Speaker 1: she pointed out where the equally startled snake had fled
Speaker 1: to the branches. The shot killed that one, but its
Speaker 1: death grip and some handy branches left it high in
Speaker 1: the tree. Well. I didn't care. It was summer and
Speaker 1: I was prone to be sunburned, and I went inside.
Speaker 1: I was recovering from one of the second degree blisters
Speaker 1: on my chest and shoulders and back at the time
Speaker 1: when I fired the kick from the twelve gates slammed
Speaker 1: into the pocket of my right shoulder. It removed the
Speaker 1: top layer of flesh in the shape of the butt
Speaker 1: of the shotgun, and it hurt noticeably. But in the
Speaker 1: end I'd been peeling like Myrtle supposedly was. Unfortunately it
Speaker 1: did not become a seasonal event. I'd finally learned to
Speaker 1: avoid the son. Okay. The next one of his tales
Speaker 1: is called Faye Lights Faye is I think it's a
Speaker 1: Celtic word for fairy. My mother related this story as
Speaker 1: her grandmother Campbell and Pearl had told her. I heard
Speaker 1: it from my mother Eloise and Pearl. When my mother
Speaker 1: was about three years old, around nineteen thirty, she became
Speaker 1: deathly ill with diphtheria. Her mother, my Grandma Pearl, and
Speaker 1: her grandmother, great Grandma Sarah Campbell, stayed up with her
Speaker 1: when the fever reached a critical point. Grandma Campbell was
Speaker 1: an herbalist in a country doctor and at the time,
Speaker 1: all the other measures and available remedies exhausted, all they
Speaker 1: could do was bathe her in cool water and give
Speaker 1: her SIPs of water. They lived in a very small
Speaker 1: house or cabin, and there were only a few windows,
Speaker 1: and they had my mother and little Eloise on a
Speaker 1: bed near one of the windows, to do everything they
Speaker 1: could to cool her fierce temperature. They'd all be giving
Speaker 1: up hope in the wee hours of the morning when
Speaker 1: a light appeared in the window above Eloise. The light
Speaker 1: was a blue and white orb and it hovered for
Speaker 1: a moment and then traveled to each window, clearly orbiting
Speaker 1: the little home. After the third orbit, the light again
Speaker 1: paused at Eloise's window, and then neither winked out or
Speaker 1: sped away from the window so quickly as to appear
Speaker 1: like it did. Pearl described it as when you turn
Speaker 1: off the TV and the little light shrinks down to
Speaker 1: that one little point and then it's gone. Those were
Speaker 1: the days of TV sets with picture tubs. The light
Speaker 1: was the last visual bit as the tube cooled. When
Speaker 1: the light was gone, little Eloise's fever broke, and by
Speaker 1: dawn she was drinking cups of water and was able
Speaker 1: to eat. A little maul had a tough life of
Speaker 1: work in raising her children, her siblings first and then
Speaker 1: her own, and she managed to do it all with
Speaker 1: a grin and genuine love for all of her charges.
Speaker 1: She had her own light about her and could calm
Speaker 1: the most stressful situation and see with absolute clarity. Though
Speaker 1: she typically withheld advice and allowed us to make our
Speaker 1: own stumbles. Maybe it's in my mind, but when I
Speaker 1: look back at our regular conversation, I recall the times
Speaker 1: that she bit back her instinctive comments. Perhaps she didn't
Speaker 1: feel worthy of giving advice. She was brilliant, but other
Speaker 1: folks had convinced her otherwise. Or maybe she feared that
Speaker 1: knowing the outcome would be like cheating. This short tale
Speaker 1: is called the Original Golden Globes. Dad used to tell
Speaker 1: us about a neighbor in Carmona, Texas who had a
Speaker 1: talent for finding gold nuggets and old coins. Dad was
Speaker 1: born in nineteen twenty four, and I never asked whether
Speaker 1: this was a story from one of his folks or
Speaker 1: what he'd heard directly, But either way, it's had time
Speaker 1: to grow some moss. It may have come from his grandparents,
Speaker 1: who lived in Stryker, Texas. The man who was the
Speaker 1: subject of the tales would go off into the woods,
Speaker 1: particularly the piney creek bottoms, and he would emerge with gold,
Speaker 1: usually a small nugget, sometimes a small coin, invariably worn
Speaker 1: and of no clear providence. When asked where he'd gotten
Speaker 1: the gold, the man would say that he followed the
Speaker 1: lights and where they paused and then winked out, he'd
Speaker 1: dig and immediately find the treasure. The man was never wealthy.
Speaker 1: He didn't produce the gold often enough to do more
Speaker 1: than live comfortably. He did not have to work more
Speaker 1: than rural living required at the time, and spent most
Speaker 1: of his time hunting and fishing and cracking out stories.
Speaker 1: Dad said that many people tried unsuccessfully to track the
Speaker 1: man when he'd slip off into the woods to look
Speaker 1: for the lights. No one else saw the lights, and
Speaker 1: speculation was that the man had either discovered or stolen
Speaker 1: a small hoarde and visited it from time to time
Speaker 1: to withdraw what was needed. This next tale is called
Speaker 1: Man's Stories. My buddy Man told me this story in
Speaker 1: the fall of twenty twenty two. He was ninety two
Speaker 1: then and a Korean War veteran. He's ninety three and
Speaker 1: he's still going better than me at the age of
Speaker 1: fifty nine. He got the nickname Man when he was
Speaker 1: sixteen and a fellow had hired Man and a buddy
Speaker 1: to remove some armadillos from near his home. Man took
Speaker 1: hold of the creature's tailed and pulled while his buddy
Speaker 1: held the toastsac Man eventually yanked up the critter and
Speaker 1: tucked it away in the sack, and the temporary employer
Speaker 1: proclaimed that only a real man could do that without
Speaker 1: getting a scratch. Man is a wealth of information, and
Speaker 1: he shared several tales of my mother's family who lived
Speaker 1: in Groveton, Texas. He used to deliver groceries to my
Speaker 1: grandma Pearl back in the nineteen forties. And his favorite
Speaker 1: tale other than the ones about the Moon Mullikan, also
Speaker 1: a contemporary of my dad, is about Bud and Carol
Speaker 1: and the coon Dog. Bud had an exceptional blue hound.
Speaker 1: An acquaintance from Houston moved from the area for work
Speaker 1: and offered Bud a trade he take the dog for
Speaker 1: his girlfriend, Carol. Bud readily agreed, and he and Carol
Speaker 1: hit it off immediately. It was the start of a
Speaker 1: long term marriage founded on love at first sight. About
Speaker 1: a month after the trade, the acquaintance had to move
Speaker 1: back to the city, and he offered to return the
Speaker 1: hound to Bud, and Bud told him, I'll take the dog,
Speaker 1: but you ain't getting my gal. The city dude was
Speaker 1: happy to get back to town and hire pay and
Speaker 1: Bud and Carol and Blue settled down in their own
Speaker 1: Blue Heaven. Now, Carol was from Wisconsin or Illinois or
Speaker 1: one of those Yankee states, and Man would say, signs
Speaker 1: vitriol simply his information. All she wanted was an old
Speaker 1: Texas cowboy, and that's what Bud was. She was exotic
Speaker 1: as far as Bud was concerned, and they were both
Speaker 1: small stature like a matched pair. Okay, the next story
Speaker 1: is called one Other Story because he earned it. Like
Speaker 1: most combat veterans, Man doesn't speak much about the gory
Speaker 1: parts of war, though his definition of trauma is different
Speaker 1: than the current one. He spoke about an incident at
Speaker 1: the end of the fighting. Everyone was frozen in place,
Speaker 1: looking at the enemy, ready for the battles to start again,
Speaker 1: but they didn't. The armistice held, and after a few
Speaker 1: days he saw a soldier approaching from the enemy lines.
Speaker 1: He got the man halted and turned out the man
Speaker 1: was an officer who had been educated in California, and
Speaker 1: he spoke English. The man offered a bottle of wine
Speaker 1: and spoke with man in some of the other troops.
Speaker 1: They shared the bottle. Of course, man made the officer
Speaker 1: take the first drink. The officer told them that he'd
Speaker 1: heard that the piece was true, and he hoped that
Speaker 1: it was. He wasn't sure if the man was a
Speaker 1: Korean or a Chinese national, but he concluded with I
Speaker 1: sure hope the man got back over here. I think
Speaker 1: that was what he meant by visiting us and offering
Speaker 1: us wine. I think he said he's hoping he came
Speaker 1: back to the United States. But anyway, let's move on
Speaker 1: to the next story. This is called Bartholomew's Bigfoot. Back
Speaker 1: in the summer of nineteen ninety, I worked for the
Speaker 1: sheriff in the People's Republic of Northern Virginia Soviet of Arlington.
Speaker 1: It was a jail gig from seven pm to seven am,
Speaker 1: so we had time to visit with our coworkers between
Speaker 1: rounds and other duties, especially after lights out. I was
Speaker 1: working the fifth floor Bartholomew. We'd hired on around the
Speaker 1: same time, so we'd known each other for a few months.
Speaker 1: He and I were what the inmates and many of
Speaker 1: our local coworkers called country asses. He was from central
Speaker 1: Alabama and I was from East Texas. Bartholomele had a
Speaker 1: great sense of humor and was always joking with the
Speaker 1: other members of the shift. He was serious about the job,
Speaker 1: he'd just liked to have fun, and I wholeheartedly agreed
Speaker 1: it was the best way to approach life. One night
Speaker 1: I returned from around during of which all our charges
Speaker 1: had been asleep or close enough, and we sat and
Speaker 1: talked about our lives and our experiences. Because a person
Speaker 1: may be known as a comedian by his fellows does
Speaker 1: not mean that he is frivolous of mind or foolish.
Speaker 1: Bartholomele was certainly no exception. On that night, we'd been
Speaker 1: talking about monsters, UFOs, and ghosts and hats. I told
Speaker 1: him about my collection of books on the origins of
Speaker 1: montsagys and myths. Always found that knowing the origins of
Speaker 1: vampires and werewolves and Bigfoot and some boggers and lake
Speaker 1: monsters and aliens made them more interesting rather than the reverse. Eventually,
Speaker 1: he looked at me in the eye, and he said,
Speaker 1: I want to tell you something. Everybody thinks I'm joking
Speaker 1: when I tell this story, but I'm not, and I'm
Speaker 1: trusting for you not to laugh at me. I assured
Speaker 1: him that I understood that he was serious and I
Speaker 1: would take him at his word as always. He said
Speaker 1: that there wasn't much to it, but he'd seen a
Speaker 1: bigfoot when he was in his teen years. We were
Speaker 1: both in our early to mid twenties at the time
Speaker 1: of this telling. He had been out in the woods
Speaker 1: hunting and he hadn't seen anything all morning. He was
Speaker 1: perched on a log at the foot of a large tree,
Speaker 1: and he explained that his family was poor and had
Speaker 1: to hunt where they could, mostly on the land where
Speaker 1: they had the owner's permission. He said it got quiet
Speaker 1: and he started to feel uneasy. He started to look around,
Speaker 1: and then he saw it. It was peering from around
Speaker 1: another large tree, pretty close to him, and it was
Speaker 1: screened by some of the brush. He said it just
Speaker 1: watched him, and it didn't move, and it didn't make
Speaker 1: a sound. I noted that his eyes grew distant as
Speaker 1: he spun this yarn, and he said it was big.
Speaker 1: Mikey like nothing else in the woods. He said that
Speaker 1: he got scared, and he shook some and even considered
Speaker 1: shooting it. Yet even though it scared him, he just
Speaker 1: didn't feel like that was the right thing to do.
Speaker 1: He brought his gaze back to the present. I didn't
Speaker 1: know it was some kind of animal or some kind
Speaker 1: of person, but it felt more like a person, like
Speaker 1: it was intelligent. He said that he watched for a moment,
Speaker 1: but when he glanced down at the shotgun and then
Speaker 1: looked up again, the creature was gone. He said that
Speaker 1: he too, was soon gone from those woods. We talked
Speaker 1: a little more about it, and I had no reason
Speaker 1: to doubt him. Rended him a little, and then I
Speaker 1: asked him if that was why he moved to the city.
Speaker 1: It was an attempt to lighten the mood. But he
Speaker 1: looked at me with a neutral expression, and he said, yeah,
Speaker 1: I missed my family, but I can't live out there anymore.
Speaker 1: I had to hunt until I left home, and food
Speaker 1: his food, but I stayed out of them woods. Then
Speaker 1: he lightened up a little and smiled. Now, white people
Speaker 1: catch enough crap when they tell these stories, And can
Speaker 1: you imagine what a brother goes through? I couldn't tell nobody,
Speaker 1: he said, I knew that. When his accent returned, we
Speaker 1: were back to a lighter conversation, and it was his
Speaker 1: turn to make the next round. The Beast in the
Speaker 1: Cave by H. P. Lovecraft, The horrible conclusion which had
Speaker 1: been gradually obtruding itself upon my confused and reluctant mind,
Speaker 1: was now an awful certainty. I was lost, completely, hopelessly
Speaker 1: lost in the vast and labyrinthine recesses of the mammoth cave.
Speaker 1: Turn as I might, in no direction could my straining
Speaker 1: vision seize on any object capable of serving as my
Speaker 1: guide post to set me on the outward path. That
Speaker 1: never more should I behold the blessing of the light
Speaker 1: of day, or scan the pleasant hills and dales of
Speaker 1: the beautiful world outside. My reason could no longer entertain
Speaker 1: the slightest unbelief hope had departed. Yet, indoctrinated as I
Speaker 1: was by a life of philosophical study, I derived no
Speaker 1: small measure of satisfaction from my unimpassioned demeanor. For although
Speaker 1: I had frequently read of the wild frenzies into which
Speaker 1: were thrown victims of similar situations, I experienced none of these,
Speaker 1: but stood quiet as soon as I I clearly realize
Speaker 1: the loss of my bearings. Nor did the thought that
Speaker 1: I had probably wandered beyond the utmost limits of an
Speaker 1: ordinary search cause me to abandon my composure even for
Speaker 1: a moment. If I must die, I reflected, then, was
Speaker 1: this terrible yet majestic cavern as welcome a sepulcher as
Speaker 1: that which any churchyard might afford, a conception which carried
Speaker 1: with it more of tranquility than of despair. Starving would
Speaker 1: prove my ultimate fate. Of this, I was certain some
Speaker 1: I knew had gone mad under circumstances such as these,
Speaker 1: But I felt that the sin would not be mine.
Speaker 1: My disaster was the result of no fault save my own, since,
Speaker 1: unbeknown to the guide, I had separated myself from the
Speaker 1: regular party of sightseers, and, wondering for over an hour
Speaker 1: in forbidding avenues of the cave, had found myself unable
Speaker 1: to retrace the devious windings which I had pursued since
Speaker 1: forsaking my companions. Already my torch had begun to expire,
Speaker 1: and soon I would be enveloped by the total and
Speaker 1: almost palpable blackness of the bowels of the earth. As
Speaker 1: I stood in the waning, unsteady light, I idly wandered
Speaker 1: over to the exact circumstances of my coming end. I
Speaker 1: remembered the accounts which I had heard of the colony
Speaker 1: of consumptives, who, taking their residence in this gigantic grotto
Speaker 1: to find health from the apparently salubrious air of the
Speaker 1: underground world, with its steady, uniform temperature, pure air, and
Speaker 1: peaceful quiet, had found instead death in strange and ghastly form.
Speaker 1: I had seen the sad remains of their ill made
Speaker 1: cottages as I passed by them with the party, and
Speaker 1: had I wondered what unnatural influence along sojourn in this
Speaker 1: immense and silent cavern would exert upon one as healthy
Speaker 1: and as vigorous as I now. I grimly told myself
Speaker 1: my opportunity for settling this point had arrived, provided that
Speaker 1: one of food should not bring me to speedy a
Speaker 1: departure from this life. As the last fitful rays of
Speaker 1: my torch faded into obscurity, I resolved to leave no
Speaker 1: stone unturned, no possible means of escape neglected, So summoning
Speaker 1: all the powers possessed in my lungs. I set up
Speaker 1: a series of loud shoutings in the vain hope of
Speaker 1: attracting the attention of the Guide by my clamor. Yet
Speaker 1: as I called, I believed in my heart that my
Speaker 1: cries were to no purpose, and that my voice, magnified
Speaker 1: and reflected by the numberless rampart of the black maids
Speaker 1: about me, fell upon no ears save my own. All
Speaker 1: At once, however, my attention was fixed with a start,
Speaker 1: as I fancied that I heard the sound of soft
Speaker 1: approaching steps on the rocky floor of the cavern. Was
Speaker 1: my deliverance about to be accomplished? So soon? Had then
Speaker 1: all my horrible apprehensions been for naught? And was the
Speaker 1: Guide having marked my unwarranted absence from the party following
Speaker 1: my course and seeking me out in this limestone labyrinth.
Speaker 1: While these joyful queries arose in my brain, I was
Speaker 1: on the point of renewing my cries in order that
Speaker 1: my discovery might come the sooner, when in an instant
Speaker 1: my delight was turned to horror as I listened for
Speaker 1: my ever acute ear, now sharpened in even greater degree
Speaker 1: by the complete silence of the cave bore to my
Speaker 1: benumbed understanding the unexpected and dreadful knowledge that these footfalls
Speaker 1: were not like those of any mortal man. In the
Speaker 1: unearthly stillness of the subterranean region, the tread of the
Speaker 1: booted god would have sounded like a series of sharp
Speaker 1: and incisive blows. These impacts were soft and stealthy, as
Speaker 1: of the padded paws of some feline. Besides, at times,
Speaker 1: when I listened carefully, I seemed to trace the falls
Speaker 1: of four instead of two feet. I was now convinced
Speaker 1: that I had, by my cries, aroused and attracted some
Speaker 1: wild beast, perhaps a mountain lion, which had accidentally strayed
Speaker 1: within the cave. And perhaps I considered the Almighty had
Speaker 1: chosen me a swifter and more merciful death than that
Speaker 1: of hunger. Yet the instinct of self preservation, never wholly dormant,
Speaker 1: was stirred in my breast, And though escaped from the
Speaker 1: oncoming peril, might but spare me for a sterner and
Speaker 1: more lingering in, I determined never the less to part
Speaker 1: with my life at as high a price as I
Speaker 1: could command. Strange as it may seem, my mind conceived
Speaker 1: of no intent on the part of the vista save
Speaker 1: that of hostility. Accordingly, I became very quiet in the
Speaker 1: hope that the unknown beast wood, in the absence of
Speaker 1: a guiding sound, lose its direction as had I, and
Speaker 1: thus passed by me. But this hope was not destined
Speaker 1: for realization, for the strange footfall steadily advanced, and the animal,
Speaker 1: evidently having obtained my scent, which, in an atmosphere so
Speaker 1: absolutely free from all distracting influence as that of a cave,
Speaker 1: could doubtless be followed at great distance. Seeing therefore that
Speaker 1: I must be armed for defense against an uncanny and
Speaker 1: unseen attack. In the dark, I groped about me the
Speaker 1: largest of the fragments of rock, which were strewn upon
Speaker 1: all parts of the floor of the cavern in the vicinity,
Speaker 1: and grasping one in each hand for immediate use, I
Speaker 1: awaited the resignation of the inevitable result. Meanwhile, the hideous
Speaker 1: pattering of the palls drew near. Certainly, the conduct of
Speaker 1: the creature was exceedingly strange. Most of the time, the
Speaker 1: tread seemed to be that of a quadruped walking with
Speaker 1: a singular lack of unison betwixt hind and four feet,
Speaker 1: Yet at brief and infrequent intervals, I fancied that but
Speaker 1: two feet were engaged in the process of locomotion. I
Speaker 1: wondered what species of animal was to confront me. It must,
Speaker 1: I thought, be some unfortunate beast who had paid for
Speaker 1: its curiosity to investigate one of the entrances of the
Speaker 1: fearful grotto. With a lifelong confinement. In its interminable recesses,
Speaker 1: it doubtless obtained as food the eyeless fishsh and bats
Speaker 1: and rats of the cave, as well as some of
Speaker 1: the ordinary fish that were wafted in at every fish
Speaker 1: net of the green River, which communicates in some occult
Speaker 1: manner with the waters of the cave. I occupied my
Speaker 1: terrible vigil with grotesque conjectures of what altercations cave life
Speaker 1: might have wrought in the physical structure of the beast,
Speaker 1: remembering the awful appearances ascribed by local tradition to the
Speaker 1: consumptives who had died after long residence in the cavern.
Speaker 1: And then I remembered with a start, that even should
Speaker 1: I succeed in killing my antagonist, I should never behold
Speaker 1: its form, as my torch had long since been extinct
Speaker 1: and I was entirely unprovided with matches. The tension on
Speaker 1: my brain now became frightful. My disordered fancy conjured up
Speaker 1: hideous and fearsome shapes from the sinister darkness that surrounded me,
Speaker 1: and that actually seemed to press upon my body. Nearer
Speaker 1: and nearer the dreadful footfalls approached. It seemed that I
Speaker 1: must give vent to a piercing scream. Yet, had I
Speaker 1: been sufficiently irresolute to attempt such a thing, my voice
Speaker 1: could scarce have responded. I was petrified and rooted to
Speaker 1: the spot. I doubted if my right arm would allow
Speaker 1: me to hurl its missile at the oncoming thing when
Speaker 1: the crucial moment should arrive. And now the steady pat
Speaker 1: pat of the steps was close at hand. Now they
Speaker 1: were very close. I could hear the labored breathing of
Speaker 1: the animal, and terror struck as I was, I realized
Speaker 1: that it must have come from a considerable distance. It
Speaker 1: was correspondingly fatigued. Suddenly the spell broke My right hand,
Speaker 1: guided by my ever trustworthy sin of hearing through with
Speaker 1: full force the sharp angled bit of limestone which it contained,
Speaker 1: toward that point in the darkness from which emanated the
Speaker 1: breathing and pattering and wonderful to relate it nearly reached
Speaker 1: its goal, for I heard the thing jump, landing at
Speaker 1: a distance away where it seemed to pause. Having readjusted
Speaker 1: my aim, I discharged my second missile, this time most effectively,
Speaker 1: for with a flood of joy, I listened as the
Speaker 1: creature fell in what sounded like a complete collapse, and
Speaker 1: evidently remained prone and unmoving. Almost overpowered by the great
Speaker 1: relief which rushed over me, I reeled back against the wall.
Speaker 1: The breathing continued in heavy gasping inhalations and expirations. Whence
Speaker 1: I realized that I had no more than wounded the creature,
Speaker 1: and now all desire to examine the thing ceased. At last,
Speaker 1: something allied to groundless superstitious fear had entered my brain,
Speaker 1: and I did not approach the body, nor did I
Speaker 1: continue to cast stones at it in order to complete
Speaker 1: the extinction of its life. Instead, I ran at full
Speaker 1: speed in what was as nearly as I could determine
Speaker 1: in my frenzied condition the direction from which I had come.
Speaker 1: Suddenly I heard a sound, or rather a regular succession
Speaker 1: of sounds. In another instant they had resolved themselves into
Speaker 1: a series of sharp metallic clicks. This time there was
Speaker 1: no doubt it was the Guide. And then I shouted
Speaker 1: and yelled and screamed. I even shrieked with joy as
Speaker 1: I beheld the vaulted arches above the faint light, which
Speaker 1: I knew to be the reflected light of an approaching torch.
Speaker 1: I ran to meet the flare, and before I could
Speaker 1: completely understand what it occurred, I was lying upon the
Speaker 1: ground at the feet of the Guide, embracing his boots
Speaker 1: and gibbering despite my boasted reserve, in a most meaningless
Speaker 1: and idiotic manner, pouring out my terrible story, and at
Speaker 1: the same time overwhelming my auditor with protestations of gratitude.
Speaker 1: After a while, I awoke to something like my normal consciousness.
Speaker 1: The God had noted my absence upon the arrival of
Speaker 1: the party at the entrance of the cave, and had,
Speaker 1: from his own intuitive sense of direction, proceeded to make
Speaker 1: a thorough canvas of the bypassage just just ahead of
Speaker 1: where he had last spoken to me, locating my whereabouts
Speaker 1: after a quest of about four hours. By the time
Speaker 1: he had related this to me, I emboldened by his torch,
Speaker 1: and his company began to reflect upon the strange beast
Speaker 1: which I had wounded, but a short distance back in
Speaker 1: the darkness, and suggested that we ascertained by the light's
Speaker 1: aid what manner of creature was my victim. Accordingly I
Speaker 1: retraced my steps, this time with the courage born of companionship,
Speaker 1: to the scene of my terrible experience. Soon we described
Speaker 1: a white object upon the floor, an object whiter even
Speaker 1: than the gleaming limestone itself. Cautiously advancing, we gave vent
Speaker 1: to a simultaneous projection of wonderment, for of all the
Speaker 1: unnatural monsters either of us had in our lifetimes beheld,
Speaker 1: this was in surpassing degree the strangest. It appeared to
Speaker 1: be an anthropoid ape of large proportions, escape perhaps from
Speaker 1: some internment menagerie. Its hair was snow white, a thing
Speaker 1: due no doubt to bleaching action of a long existence
Speaker 1: within the inky confines of the cave. But it was
Speaker 1: also surprisingly thin, being indeed largely absence save on the head,
Speaker 1: where it was of such a length and abundance that
Speaker 1: it fell over the shoulders in considerable profusion. The face
Speaker 1: was turned away from us as the creature lay almost
Speaker 1: directly upon it. The inclination of the limbs was very singular, explaining, however,
Speaker 1: the alternation in their use which I before noted, whereby
Speaker 1: the beast use sometimes all four, and on other occasions
Speaker 1: but two for its progress from the tips of the
Speaker 1: fingers or toes, long nail like claws extended the hands
Speaker 1: or feet were not prehensile. In fact, I ascribed that
Speaker 1: to long residence in the cave, which, as I before mentioned,
Speaker 1: seemed evident from the all pervailing, almost unearthly whiteness so
Speaker 1: characteristic of the whole anatomy. No tails seemed to be present.
Speaker 1: The respiration had now grown feeble, and the God had
Speaker 1: drawn his pistol with the evident intent of dispatching the creature,
Speaker 1: when a sudden sound emitted by the latter caused the
Speaker 1: weapon to fall unused. The sound was of a nature
Speaker 1: difficult to describe. It was not like the normal note
Speaker 1: of any known species of simion, and I wondered if
Speaker 1: this unnatural quality were not the result of a long,
Speaker 1: continued and complete silence broken by the sensations produced by
Speaker 1: the advent of the light, a thing which the beast
Speaker 1: could not have seen since its first entrance into the cave.
Speaker 1: The sound, which I might feebly attempt to classify as
Speaker 1: a kind of deep toned chattering, was faintly continued. All
Speaker 1: at once. Fleeting spasms of energy seemed to pass through
Speaker 1: the frame of the beast, and the poles went through
Speaker 1: a convulsive motion, and the limbs contracted, and with a jerk,
Speaker 1: the white body so that its face was turned in
Speaker 1: our direction. And for a moment I was so struck
Speaker 1: with horror at the eyes thus revealed that I noted
Speaker 1: nothing else. They were black, Those eyes, deep jetty black,
Speaker 1: in hideous contrast to the snow white hair and flesh.
Speaker 1: Like those of other cave denizens. They were deeply sunken
Speaker 1: in their orbits and were entirely destitute of iris. As
Speaker 1: I looked more closely, I saw that they were set
Speaker 1: in a face less than that of the average ape,
Speaker 1: and infinitely more hairy. The nose was quite distinct. As
Speaker 1: we gazed upon the uncanny sight presented to our vision,
Speaker 1: the thick lips opened and several sounds issued from them,
Speaker 1: after which the thing relaxed in death. The god clutched
Speaker 1: my coat sleeve and trembled so violently that the light
Speaker 1: shook fitfully. Cash seeing weird moving shadows on the walls
Speaker 1: about us, I made no motion, but stood rigidly still,
Speaker 1: my horrified eyes fixed upon the floor ahead. And then
Speaker 1: fear left, and wonder and awe, and compassion and reverence
Speaker 1: succeeded in its place, for the sounds uttered by the
Speaker 1: stricken figure that lay stretched out on the limestone had
Speaker 1: told us the awesome truth. The creature I had killed,
Speaker 1: the strange beast of the unfathomed cave, was, or had
Speaker 1: at one time been, a man,