Latest / Weird Tales Presents: Web of the Spider! / The Monster-God of Mamurth by Edmond Hamilton

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The Monster-God of Mamurth by Edmond Hamilton · Weird Tales Presents: Web of the Spider!

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Section eleven of Weird Tales presents Webb of the Spider. This is a LibriVox
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recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information to
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volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Read by Ben Tucker. Weird Tales
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presents Web of the Spider. The monster God of Memmerth by Edmund Hamilton.
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It was out of the desert night that he came to us, stumbling into
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our little circle of firelight and collapsing at once. Mitchell and I sprang to
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our feet with startled exclamations. For men who travel alone and on foot are
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a strange sight in the deserts of North Africa. For the first few minutes
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that we worked over him, I thought he would die at once, but
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gradually we brought him back to consciousness. While Mitchell held a cup of water
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to his cracked lips, I looked him over and saw that he was too
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far gone to live much longer. His clothes were in rags, and his
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hands and knees literally flayed from crawling over the sands, I judged, so
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when he motioned feebly for more water, I gave it to him, knowing
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that in any case. His time was short. Soon he could talk in
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a dead, croaking voice. I'm alone, he told us, in answer
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to our first question. No more out there to look for. What are
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you two traitors? I thought so. No, I'm an archaeologist, a
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digger up of the past. His voice broke for a moment. It's not
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always good to dick up dead secrets. There are some things the past should
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be allowed to hide. He caught the look that passed between Mitchell and me.
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No, I'm not mad, he said. You will hear. I'll
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tell you the whole thing. But listen to me, you too, And
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in his earnestness, he raised himself to a sitting position. Keep out of
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Yjidi Desert. Remember that I told you that I had a warning, but
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I disregarded it and I went into hell, into hell. But there,
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I will tell you from the beginning. My name. That doesn't matter now.
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I left Mogador more than a year ago and came through the foothills of
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the Atlas Ranges, striking out into the desert in hopes of finding some of
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the Carthaginian ruins the North African deserts are known to hold. I spent months
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in the search traveling among the squalid Arab villages, now near an oasis,
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and now far into the blank untracked desert. And as I went farther into
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that savage country, I found more and more of the ruins I sought,
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crumbled remnants of temples and fortresses, relics almost destroyed of the age when Carthage
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meant empire and ruled all of North Africa from her walled city. And then
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on the side of a massive block of stone, I found that which turned
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me toward Ajiti. It was an inscription in the garbled Phoenician of the traitors
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of Carthage, short enough that I remembered it and can repeat it word for
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word. It read literally as follows, Merchants go not into the city of
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Mammoth, which lies beyond the mountain pass, for I Sandrabat of Carthage,
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entering the city with four companions in the month of Eschmaun to trade. On
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the third night of our stay, came priests and seized my fellows, I
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escaping by hiding my companions. They sacrificed to the evil god of the city,
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who has dwelt there from the beginning of time, and for whom the
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wise man of Mammoth have built a great temple, the like of which is
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not on earth elsewhere where the people of Mammoth worship their god. I escaped
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from the city and set this warning here that others may not turn their steps
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to Mammoth and to death. Perhaps you can imagine the effect that inscription had
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on me. It was the last trace of a city unknown to the memory
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of men, a last floating spar of a civilization sunken in the sea of
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time. That there could have been such a city at all seemed to me
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quite probable. What do we know of Carthage, even but a few names,
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No city, no civilization, was ever so completely blotted off the earth
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as Carthage when Roman Scipio ground its temples and palaces into the very dust and
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plowed up the ground with salt, and the eagles of conquering Rome flew across
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a desert where a metropolis had been. It was on the outskirts of one
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of those wretched little Arab villages that I had found the block and its inscription.
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And I tried to find some one in the village to accompany me,
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but none would do so. I could plainly see the mountain Pass, a
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mere crack between towering blue cliffs. In reality, it was miles and miles
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away, but the deceptive optical qualities of the desert light made it seem very
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near. My maps placed that mountain range all right as a lower branch of
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the atlas, and the expanse behind the mountains was marked as a JETI desert.
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But that was all I got from them. All that I could reckon
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on as certain was that it was desert that lay on the other side of
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the pass, and I must carry enough supplies to meet it. But the
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Arabs knew more. Though I offered what must have been fabulous riches to those
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poor devils, not one would come with me when I let them know what
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place I was heading, for none had ever been there. They would not
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even ride far into the desert in that direction. But all had very definite
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ideas of the place beyond the mountains as a nest of devils, a haunt
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of evil ginns. Knowing how firmly superstition is implanted in their kind, I
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tried no longer to persuade them, and started alone with two scrawny camels carrying
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my water and supplies. So for three days I forged across the desert under
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a broiling sun, and on the morning of the fourth I reached the pass.
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It was only a narrow crevice to begin with, and great boulders were
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strewn so thickly on its floor that it was a long, hard job getting
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through, and the cliffs on each side towered to such a height that the
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space between was a place of shadows and whispers and semi darkness. It was
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late in the afternoon that I finally came through, and for a moment I
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stood motionless, for from that side of the pass, the desert sloped down
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into a vast basin, and at the basin's center, perhaps two miles from
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where I stood, gleamed the white ruins of Mammarth. I remember that I
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was very calm as I covered the two miles between myself and the ruins.
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I taken the existence of the city as a fact, so much so that
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if the ruins had not been there, I should have been vastly more sup
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finding them. From the past, I had seen only a tangled mass of
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white fragments, but as I drew nearer, some of these began to take
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outline as crumbling blocks and walls and columns. The sand had drifted to and
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the ruins were completely buried in some sections, while nearly all were half covered.
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And then it was that I made a curious discovery. I had stopped
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to examine the material of the ruins, a smooth, veaneless stone, much
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like an artificial marble, where a superfine concrete. And while I looked about
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me intint on this, I noticed that on almost every shaft and block,
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unbroken cornice and column was carved the same symbol. If it was a symbol,
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it was a rough picture of a queer, outlandish creature, much like
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an octopus, with a round, almost shapeless body, and several long tentacles
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or arms branching out from the body, not supple or boneless like those of
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an octopus, but seemingly stiff and jointed like a spider's legs. In fact,
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the thing might have been intended to represent a spider, I thought,
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though some of the details were wrong. I speculated for a moment on the
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profusion of these creatures carved on the ruins all around me, then gave it
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up as an enigma that was unsolvable, and the riddle of the city about
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me seemed unsolvable. Also, what could I find in this half buried mass
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of stone fragments to throw light on the past? I could not even superficially
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explore the place, for the scantiness of my supplies and water would not permit
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a long stay. It was with a discouraged heart that I went back to
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the camels, and, leading them to an open spot in the ruins,
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made my camp for the night, And when night had fallen, I sat
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beside my little fire. The vast, brooding silence of this place of death
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was awful. There were no laughing human voices, or cries of animals,
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or even cries of bird or insect. Nothing but the darkness and silence that
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crowded around me flowed down upon me, beat sullenly against the glowing spears of
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light my little fire throughout. As I sat there musing, I was startled
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by a slight sound behind me. I turned to see its cause, and
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then stiffened. As I have mentioned, the space directly around my camp was
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clear sand, smoothed level by the winds. Well. As I stared at
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that flat expanse of sand, a hole several inches across suddenly appeared in its
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surface yards from where I stood, but clearly visible in the firelight. There
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was nothing whatever to be seen there, not even a shadow. But there
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it was, one moment the level surface of the sand, the next moment
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a hole appearing in it, accompanied by a soft crunching sound. As I
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stood gazing at it in wonder, that sound was repeated, and simultaneously another
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hole appeared in the sand's surface, only five or six feet nearer to me
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than the other. When I saw that, ice tipped arrows of fear seemed
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to shoot through me, and then, yielding to a mad impulse, I
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snatched a blazing piece of fuel from the fire and hurled it a comet of
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red flame at the place where the holes had appeared. There was a slight
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sound of scurrying and shuffling, and I felt that whatever thing had made those
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marks had retreated. If a living thing had made them at all, what
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it had been I could not imagine, for there had been absolutely nothing in
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sight, one track and then another appearing magically in the clear sand. If
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indeed they were really tracks at all, the mystery of the thing haunted me.
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Even in sleep, I found no rest, for evil dreams seemed to
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flow into my brain from the dead city around me. All the dusty sins
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of ages passed in this forgotten place seemed to be focused on me. In
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the dreams I had, strange shapes walked through them, unearthly as the spawn
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of a distant star, half seen and vanishing again. It was little enough
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sleep I got that night, But when the sun finally came with its first
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golden rays, my fears and oppressions dropped from me like a cloak. No
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wonder, the early peoples were sun worshippers. And with my renewed strength and
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courage, a new thought struck me. In the inscription I have quoted to
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you, the long dead merchant adventurer had mentioned the great temple of the city
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and dwelt on its grandeur. Where then were its ruins, I wondered.
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I decided that what time I had would be better spent in investigating the ruins
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of this temple, which should be prominent if that ancient Carthaginian had been correct
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as to its size. I ascended a nearby hillock and looked about me in
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all directions, and though I could not perceive any vast pile of ruins that
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might have been the temples. I did see for the first time, far
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away, two great figures of stone that stood out black against the rosy flame
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of the sunrise. It was a discovery that filled me with excitement, and
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I broke camp at once, starting in the direction of those two shapes.
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They were on the very edge of the farther side of the city, and
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it was noon before I finally stood before them. And now I saw clearly
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their nature. Two great sitting figures carved of black stone, all of fifty
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feet in height and almost that far apart, both facing toward the city and
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toward me. They were of human shape and dressed in a queer scaled armor.
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But the faces I cannot describe, for they were unhuman. The features
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were human, well proportioned, even but the face, the expression, suggested
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no kinship whatever with humanity as we know it. Were they carved life.
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I wondered, if so, it must have been a strange sort of people
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who had lived in this city and set up these two statues. And now
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I tore my gaze away from them, and looked around. On each side
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of those shapes, the remains of what must have been a mighty wall branched
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out a long pile of crumbling ruins, but there had been no wall between
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the statues, that being evidently the gateway through the barrier. I wondered why
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the two guardians of the gate had survived, apparently entirely unharmed, while the
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wall and the city behind me had fallen into ruins. They were of a
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different material, I could see. But what was that material? And now
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I noticed for the first time the long avenue that began on the other side
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of the statues and stretched away into the desert for a half mile or more.
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The sides of this avenue were two rows of smaller stone figures that ran
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in parallel lines away from the two figures. So I started down that avenue,
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passing between the two great shapes that stood at its head, And as
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I went between them, I noticed for the first time the inscription graven on
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the inner side of each On the pedestal of each figure, four or five
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feet from the ground, was a raised tablet of the same material, perhaps
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a yard square, and covered with strange symbols, characters, no doubt of
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a lost language, undecipherable at least to me. One symbol, though,
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that was especially prominent in the inscription, was not new to me. It
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was the carbon picture of the spider or octopus, which I have mentioned that
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I had found everywhere on the ruins of the city, and here it was
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scattered thickly among the symbols that made up the inscription. The tablet on the
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other statue was a replica of the first, and I could learn no more
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from it. So I started down the avenue, turning over in my mind
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the riddle of that omnipresent symbol, and then forgetting it as I observed the
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things about me. That long street was like the avenue of Sphinxes at karnak
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Down, which Phero swung in his litter, borne to his temple on the
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necks of men. But the statues that made up its sides were not sphinx
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shaped. They were carved in strange forms, shapes of animals unknown to us,
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as far removed from anything we can imagine, as the beasts of another
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world. I cannot describe them any more than you could describe a dragon to
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a man who has been blind all his life. Yet they were of evil,
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reptilian shapes. They tore at my nerves as I looked at them.
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Down between the two rows of them. I went until I came to the
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end of the avenue. Standing there between the last two figures, I could
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see nothing before me but the yellow sands of the desert as far as the
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eye could reach. I was puzzled. What had been the object of all
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the panes that had been taken the wall, the two great statues in this
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long avenue, if it but led into the desert. Gradually, I began
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to see that there was something queer about the part of the desert that lay
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directly before me. It was flat. For an area seemingly round in shape
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that must have covered several acres, The surface of the desert seemed absolutely level.
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It was as though the sands within that great circle had been packed down
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with tremendous forces, leaving not even the littlest ridge of doone on its surface.
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Beyond this flat area and all around it, the desert was broken up
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by small hills and valleys, and traversed by whirling sand clouds. But nothing
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stirred on the flat surface of the circle. Interested at once, I strode
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forward to the edge of the circle, only a few yards away. I
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had just reached that edge when an invisible hand seemed to strike me a great
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blow on the face and chest, knocking me backward in the sand. It
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was minutes before I advanced again, but I did advance, for all my
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curiosity was now aroused. I crawled toward the circle's edge, holding my pistol
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before me, pushing slowly forward. When the automatic in my outstretched hand reached
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the line of the circle, it struck against something hard, and I could
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push it no farther. It was exactly as if it had struck against the
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side of a wall, but no wall or anything else was to be seen.
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Reaching out my hand, I touched the same heart barrier, and in
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a moment I was on my feet, for I knew now that it was
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solid matter I had run into, not force. When I thrust out my
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hands, the edge of the circle was as far as they would go,
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for there they met a smooth wall, totally invisible, yet at the same
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time quite material. And the phenomenon was one which even I could partly understand.
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Somehow, in the dead past, the scientists of the city behind me,
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the wise men mentioned in the inscription, had discovered the secret of making
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solid matter invisible, and had applied it to the work that I was now
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examining such a thing was far from impossible. Even our own scientists can make
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matter partly invisible with the X ray. Evidently, these people had known the
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whole process, a secret that had been lost in the succeeding ages, like
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the secret of heart gold and malleable glass, and others that we find mentioned
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in ancient writings. Yet I wondered how they had done this, So that,
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ages after those who had built the thing were wind driven dust, it
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remained as invisible as ever. I stood back and threw pebbles into the air
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toward the circle, no matter how high I threw them. When they reached
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the line of the circle's edge, they rebounded with a clinking sound. So
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I knew that the wall must tower to a great height above me. I
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was on fire to get inside the wall and examine the place from the inside.
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But how to do it? There must be an entrance, but where?
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And I suddenly remembered the two guardian statues at the head of the great
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avenue with their carven tablets, and wondered what connection they had with this place.
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Suddenly, the strangeness of the whole thing struck me like a blow.
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The great unseen wall before me the circle of sand, flat and unchanging,
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and myself standing there and wondering, wondering, A voice from out the dead
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city behind me seemed to sound in my heart, bidding me to turn and
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flee, to get away. I remembered the warning of the inscription go not
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to Mammoth. And as I thought of the inscription, I had no doubt
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that this was the great temple described by San Drabat. Surely he was right.
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The like of it was not on earth elsewhere. But I would not
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go. I could not go until I had examined the wall from the inside.
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Calmly reasoning the matter, I decided that the logical place for the gateway
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through the wall would be at the end of the avenue, so that those
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who came down the street could pass directly through the wall. And my reasoning
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was good, for it was at that spot that I found the entrance,
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an opening in the barrier several yards wide and running higher than I could reach.
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How high I had no means of telling. I felt my way through
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the gate and stepped at once upon a floor of hard material, not as
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smooth as the wall's surfaced, but equally invisible. Inside the entrance lay a
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corridor of equal width leading into the center part of the circle, and I
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felt my way forward. I must have made a strange picture, had there
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been any there to observe it. For while I knew that all around me
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were the towering, invisible walls, and I knew not what else. Yet
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all my eyes could see was the great, flat circle of sand beneath me,
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carpeted with the afternoon sunshine. Only I seemed to be walking a foot
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above the ground in thin air. That was the thickness of the floor beneath
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me. And it was the weight of this great floor I knew that held
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the circle of sand under it, forever flat and unchanging. I walked slowly
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down the passageway with hands outstretched before me, and had gone but a short
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distance when I brought up against another smooth wall that lay directly across the corridor,
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seemingly making it a blind alley. But I was not discouraged now,
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for I knew that there must be a door somewhere, and began to feel
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around me in search of it. I found the door engroping about the sides
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of the corridor, my hands encountered a smoothly round knob set in the wall,
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and as I laid my hand on this, the door opened. There
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was a sighing, as of a little wind, and when I again felt
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my way forward, the wall that had lain across the passageway was gone,
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and I was free to go forward. But I dared not go through at
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once. I went back to the knob on the wall and found that no
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amount of pressing or twisting of it would close the door that had opened.
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Some subtle mechanism within the knob it operated that needed only a touch of the
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hand to work it. And the whole end of the corridor had moved out
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of the way, sliding up in the grooves. I think like a portcullis,
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though this I am not sure. But the door was safely opened,
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and I passed through it, moving about like a blind man in a strange
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place. I found that I was in a vast inner court, the walls
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of which sloped away in a great curve. When I discovered this, I
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came back to the spot where the corridor opened into the court, and then
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walked straight out into the court itself. It was steps that I encountered,
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the first broad steps of what was evidently a staircase of titanic proportion, and
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I went up, slowly, carefully, feeling before me every foot of the
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way. It was only the feel of the staircase under me that gave reality
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to it. For as far as I could see, I was simply climbing
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up into empty space. It was weird beyond telling. Up and up I
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went until I was all of a hundred feet above the ground, and then
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the staircase narrowed, the sides drew together. A few more steps, and
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I came out on a flat floor again, which, after some groping about,
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I found to be a broad landing with high railed edges. I crawled
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across this landing on hands and knees, and then struck against another wall,
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and in it another door. I went through this, too, still crawling,
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and though everything about me was still invisible, I sensed that I was
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no longer in the open air, but in a great room. I stopped
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short, and then as I crouched on the floor, I felt a sudden
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prescience of evil, of some malignant, menacing entity that was native here.
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Nothing I could see or hear, but strong upon my brain beat the thought
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of something infinitely ancient, infinitely evil, that was a part of this place.
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Was it a consciousness? I wonder of the horror that had filled the
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place in ages long dead, whatever caused it, I could go no farther
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in the face of the terror that possessed me. So I drew back and
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walked to the edge of the landing, leaning over its high invisible railing,
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and surveying the scene below. The setting sun hung like a great ball of
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red hot iron in the western sky, and in its lurid rays, the
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two great statues cast long shadows on the yellow sands. Not far away,
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my two camels hobbled, moved restlessly about. To all appearances, I was
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standing on thin air a hundred feet or more above the ground. But in
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my mind's eye I had a picture of the great courts and corridors below me
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through which I had felt my way. Musing there in the red light,
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it was clear to me that this was the great temple of the city.
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What a sight it must have been in the time of the city's life.
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I could imagine the long procession of priests and people and somber and gorgeous robes
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coming out from the city between the great statues and down the long avenue,
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dragging with them, perhaps an unhappy prisoner, to sacrifice to their God,
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and this his temple. The sun was now dipping beneath the horizon, and
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I turned to go. But before I have removed, I became rigid,
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and my heart seemed to stand still, for on the farther edge of the
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clear stretch of sand that lay beneath the temple and the city, a hole
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suddenly appeared in the sand, springing into being on the desert's face, exactly
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like the one I had seen at my camp fire the night before. I
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watched, as fascinated as by the eyes of a snake, and before my
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eyes another and another appeared, not in a straight line, but in a
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zigzag fashion. Two such holes would be punched down on one side, then
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two more on the other side, then one in the middle, making a
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series of tracks perhaps two yards in width from side to side, and advancing
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straight toward the temple and myself, and I could see nothing. It was
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like the comparison suddenly struck me, like the tracks of a many legged insect
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might make in the sand, only magnified to unheard of proportions. And with
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that thought the truth rushed on me, for I remembered the spider carved on
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the ruins and on the statues, and I knew now what it had signified
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to the dwellers in the city. What was it the inscription? It said,
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the evil God of the city, who has been there from the beginning
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of time. And as I saw those tracks advancing towards me, I knew
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that the city's ancient evil god still dwelt here, and that I was in
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his temple alone and unharmed. What strange creatures might there not have been in
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the dawn of time? And this one, this gigantic monster in a spider's
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form, had not those who built the city found it here when they came
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and in awe taken it as the city's god, and built for it the
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mighty temple in which I now stood. And they who had the wisdom and
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the art to make this vast, vain invisible, not to be seen by
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human eyes, had they done the same to their god and made of him
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almost a true god, invisible, powerful, undying, un dying, Almost
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it must have been to survive the ages as it had done. Yet I
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knew that even some kinds of parrots live for centuries. And what could I
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know of this monstrous relic of dead ages. And when the city died and
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crumbled, and the victims were no longer brought to its lair in the temple,
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did it not live as I thought? By ranging the desert? No
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wonder the Arabs had feared the country in this direction. It would be death
27:38
for anything that came even within view of such a horror that could clutch and
27:44
spring and chase, and yet remain always unseen. And was it death for
27:48
me? Such were some of the thoughts that pounded through my brain as I
27:53
watched death approach with those steadily advancing tracks in the sand. And now the
27:59
peral of terror that had gripped me was broken, and I ran down the
28:03
great staircase and into the court. I could think of no place in that
28:07
great hall where I might hide, imagine hiding in a place where all is
28:11
invisible. But I must go some place. And finally I dashed past the
28:17
foot of the great staircase until I reached a wall directly under the landing on
28:21
which I stood. And against this I crouched, praying that the deepening shadows
28:25
of dusk might hide me from the gaze of the creature whose lair. This
28:30
was I knew instantly when the thing entered the gate through which I too had
28:33
come, Pad pad pat, That was the soft, cushioned sound of its
28:40
passage. I heard the feet stop for a moment by the open door at
28:44
the end of the corridor. Perhaps it was in surprise that the door was
28:48
open, I thought, for how could I know how great or little intelligence
28:52
lay in that unseen creature's brain. Then pat pat across the court it came,
28:59
and I heard the soft sound of its passing as it ascended the staircase.
29:03
Had I not been afraid to breathe, I would have almost screamed with
29:06
the relief. Yet still fear held me, and I remained crouched against the
29:11
wall while the thing went up the great stairs. Imagine that scene. All
29:17
around me was absolutely nothing visible, nothing but the great flat circle of sand
29:22
that lay afoot below me. Yet I saw the place with my mind's eye,
29:27
and knew of the walls and courts that lay about me, and the
29:30
thing above me, in fear of which I was crouching there in the gathering
29:36
darkness. The sound of feet above me had ceased, and I judged that
29:40
the thing had gone into the great room above which I had feared to enter.
29:45
Now, if ever, was the time to make my escape in the
29:48
darkness. So I rose with infinite carefulness and softly walked across the court to
29:53
the door that led into the corridor. But when I had walked only half
29:57
of the distance, as I thought, I crashed squarely into another invisible wall
30:03
across my path and fell backward, the metal handle of the sheath knife at
30:07
my belt striking the floor with a loud clang. God help me, I
30:12
had misjudged the position of the door and had walked straight into the wall instead.
30:18
I lay there motionless, with cold fear flooding every part of my being.
30:22
Then, pat pat, the soft steps of thing crossed the landing,
30:30
and then, for a moment's silence, could it see me from the landing,
30:33
I wondered? Could it? For a moment, hope warmed me as
30:37
no sound came. But the next instant I knew that death had me by
30:41
the throat. For pat pat down the stairs it came. With that sound.
30:47
My last vestige of self control fled, and I scrambled to my feet
30:52
and made another mad dash in the direction of the door, crash into another
30:56
wall. I went and rose to my feet, trembling. There was no
31:00
sound of footsteps now, and as quietly as I could, I walked into
31:03
the great court, still farther as I thought from my whole ideas of direction
31:07
were hopelessly confused. God, what a weird game it was we played there
31:12
on that darkened circle of sand, no sound whatever from the thing that hunted
31:17
me, and my hope flickered up again and with a dreadful irony. It
31:22
was at that exact moment that I walked straight into the thing. My outstretched
31:26
hand touched and grasped what must have been one of its limbs, thick and
31:32
cold and hairy, that was instantly torn from my grasp and then seized me
31:37
again, while another and another clutched me also. The thing had stood quite
31:41
still, leaving me to walk directly into its grasp, the drama of the
31:45
spider and the fly a moment only it held me. For that cold grasp
31:51
filled me with such deep, shuddering abhorrence that I wrenched myself loose and fled
31:56
madly across the court, stumbling, and on the first step of the great
32:00
staircase, I ran madly up those stairs, and even as I ran I
32:05
heard the thing in pursuit. No soft steps now, but a rapid shuffle
32:09
up. I went and across the landing and grasped the edge of the railing,
32:14
for I meant to throw myself down from there to a clean death on
32:16
the floor below. But under my hands the top of the railing moved.
32:21
One of the great blocks that evidently made up its top was loosened and rocked
32:25
toward me. In a flash, I grasped the great block and staggered across
32:30
the landing with it in my arms, to the head of the staircase.
32:35
Two men could hardly have lifted it, I think, Yet I did more
32:39
in a sudden access of mad strength, For as I heard that monster coming
32:45
swiftly up the great stairs, I raised the block, invisible as ever,
32:51
above my head, and sent it crashing down the staircase upon the place where
32:55
I thought the thing was at that moment. For an instant after the crash,
33:00
there was silence, and then a low humming sound began that waxed into
33:05
a loud droning. And at the same time, at a spot half way
33:08
down the staircase where the block had crashed, a thin purple liquid seemed to
33:14
well out of the empty air, giving form to a few of the invisible
33:17
steps as it flowed over them. An outlining too the block I had thrown,
33:22
and a great hairy limb that lay crushed beneath it, and from which
33:28
the fluid that was the monstrous blood was oozing. I had not killed the
33:32
thing, but had chained it down, as I thought, with the block
33:37
that held it prisoner. There was a thrashing sound on the staircase, and
33:42
the purple stream ran more freely, and by the outline of its splashes,
33:45
I saw dimly the monstrous god that had been known in mammoth and ages past.
33:52
Like a giant spider. It was, with angled limbs that were yards
33:57
long, in a hairy, repellent body. Even as I stood there,
34:00
I wondered that the thing, invisible as it was, was yet visible by
34:06
the life blood in it when that blood was spilled. Yet so it was,
34:09
Nor can I even suggest a reason, but one glimpse I got of
34:14
its half visible purple splashed outline, and then, hugging the farther side of
34:17
the stairs, I descended. When I passed the thing, the intolerable odor
34:22
of a crushed insect almost smothered me, and the monster itself made frantic efforts
34:28
to loosen itself in spring at me, but it could not, and I
34:31
got safely down, shuddering and hardly able to walk straight across the court,
34:37
I went and ran shakily through the corridor and down the long avenue and out
34:40
between the two great statues. The moonlight shone on them, and the tablets
34:45
of inscription stood out on the sides of the statues clearly with their strange symbols
34:50
and carved spider forms. But I knew now what their message was. It
34:57
was well that my camels had wandered into the ruins, for such was the
35:00
fear that struck through me, that I would never have returned for them had
35:04
they lingered by the invisible wall. All that night I rode to the north,
35:09
and when morning came, I did not stop, but still pushed north.
35:13
And as I went through the mountain pass one camel stumbled and fell,
35:16
and in falling burst opened all my water supplies that were lashed on its back.
35:22
No water at all was left. But I still held north, killing
35:25
the other camel by my constant speed, and then staggered on on foot,
35:30
on hands and knees. I crawled forward when my legs gave out, always
35:36
north, away from that temple of evil and its evil God. And to
35:40
night I had been crawling how many miles I do not know, And I
35:45
saw your fire, and that is all. He lay back, exhausted,
35:51
and Mitchell and I looked at each other's faces in the firelight. Then rising,
35:55
Mitchell strode to the edge of our camp and looked for a long time
35:58
at the moonlit desert that lay towards the south. What his thoughts were I
36:02
do not know. I was nursing my own as I watched the man that
36:06
lay beside our fire. It was early the next morning that he died,
36:10
muttering about great walls around him. We wrapped his body securely, and bearing
36:15
it with us, held our way across the desert. In Algiers. We
36:19
cabled to the friends, whose address we found in his money belt, and
36:22
arranged to ship the body to them, for such had been his only request.
36:27
Later they wrote that he had been buried in the little churchyard of the
36:29
New England village that had been his childhood home. I do not think that
36:32
his sleep there will be troubled by dreams of that place of evil. From
36:36
which he fled. I pray that it will not often, and often have
36:40
Mitchell and I discussed the thing over lonely camp fires and in the ends of
36:45
the seaport towns. Did he kill the invisible monster he spoke of? And
36:51
is it lying now a withered remnant under the block on the great staircase?
36:57
Or did it gnaw its way loose? Does it still oam the desert and
37:00
make its lair in the vast ancient temple as unseen as itself? Or different?
37:07
Still? Was the man simply crazed by the heat and thirst of the
37:10
desert and his tail but the product of a maddened mind. I do not
37:15
think that this is so. I think that he told truth. Yet I
37:20
do not know, nor shall I ever know, For never Mitchell and I
37:24
have decided, Shall we be the ones to venture into that place of hell
37:29
on earth, where that ancient god of evil may still be living amid the
37:34
invisible courts and towers beyond the unseen wall. End of the Monster God of
37:39
Mammarth by Edmund Hamilton, end of Weird Tales presents Web of the Spider