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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f57f44 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,13 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text +*.htm text +*.html text +*.png binary +*.jpg binary +*.svg text +*.pdf binary +*.bmp binary +*.zip binary +*.midi binary +*.mp3 binary diff --git a/79279-0.txt b/79279-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e02906f --- /dev/null +++ b/79279-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,304 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79279 *** + + + + + The Graveyard Rats + + By HENRY KUTTNER + + _A gruesome fate befell the old caretaker of the cemetery in the + horrible burrows beneath the graves_ + + [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from + Weird Tales, March 1936.] + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that + the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +Old Masson, the caretaker of one of Salem’s oldest and most neglected +cemeteries, had a feud with the rats. Generations ago they had come up +from the wharves and settled in the graveyard, a colony of abnormally +large rats, and when Masson had taken charge after the inexplicable +disappearance of the former caretaker, he decided that they must go. At +first he set traps for them and put poisoned food by their burrows, and +later he tried to shoot them, but it did no good. The rats stayed, +multiplying and overrunning the graveyard with their ravenous hordes. + +They were large, even for the _mus decumanus_, which sometimes measures +fifteen inches in length, exclusive of the naked pink and gray tail. +Masson had caught glimpses of some as large as good-sized cats, and +when, once or twice, the grave-diggers had uncovered their burrows, the +malodorous tunnels were large enough to enable a man to crawl into them +on his hands and knees. The ships that had come generations ago from +distant ports to the rotting Salem wharves had brought strange cargoes. + +Masson wondered sometimes at the extraordinary size of these burrows. He +recalled certain vaguely disturbing legends he had heard since coming to +ancient, witch-haunted Salem—tales of a moribund, inhuman life that was +said to exist in forgotten burrows in the earth. The old days, when +Cotton Mather had hunted down the evil cults that worshipped Hecate and +the dark Magna Mater in frightful orgies, had passed; but dark gabled +houses still leaned perilously toward each other over narrow cobbled +streets, and blasphemous secrets and mysteries were said to be hidden in +subterranean cellars and caverns, where forgotten pagan rites were still +celebrated in defiance of law and sanity. Wagging their gray heads +wisely, the elders declared that there were worse things than rats and +maggots crawling in the unhallowed earth of the ancient Salem +cemeteries. + +And then, too, there was this curious dread of the rats. Masson disliked +and respected the ferocious little rodents, for he knew the danger that +lurked in their flashing, needle-sharp fangs; but he could not +understand the inexplicable horror which the oldsters held for deserted, +rat-infested houses. He had heard vague rumors of ghoulish beings that +dwelt far underground, and that had the power of commanding the rats, +marshaling them like horrible armies. The rats, the old men whispered, +were messengers between this world and the grim and ancient caverns far +below Salem. Bodies had been stolen from graves for nocturnal +subterranean feasts, they said. The myth of the Pied Piper is a fable +that hides a blasphemous horror, and the black pits of Avernus have +brought forth hell-spawned monstrosities that never venture into the +light of day. + +Masson paid little attention to these tales. He did not fraternize with +his neighbors, and, in fact, did all he could to hide the existence of +the rats from intruders. Investigation, he realized, would undoubtedly +mean the opening of many graves. And while some of the gnawed, empty +coffins could be attributed to the activities of the rats, Masson might +find it difficult to explain the mutilated bodies that lay in some of +the coffins. + +The purest gold is used in filling teeth, and this gold is not removed +when a man is buried. Clothing, of course, is another matter; for +usually the undertaker provides a plain broadcloth suit that is cheap +and easily recognizable. But gold is another matter; and sometimes, too, +there were medical students and less reputable doctors who were in need +of cadavers, and not over-scrupulous as to where these were obtained. + +So far Masson had successfully managed to discourage investigation. He +had fiercely denied the existence of the rats, even though they +sometimes robbed him of his prey. Masson did not care what happened to +the bodies after he had performed his gruesome thefts, but the rats +inevitably dragged away the whole cadaver through the hole they gnawed +in the coffin. + + * * * * * + +The size of these burrows occasionally worried Masson. Then, too, there +was the curious circumstance of the coffins always being gnawed open at +the end, never at the side or top. It was almost as though the rats were +working under the direction of some impossibly intelligent leader. + +Now he stood in an open grave and threw a last sprinkling of wet earth +on the heap beside the pit. It was raining, a slow, cold drizzle that +for weeks had been descending from soggy black clouds. The graveyard was +a slough of yellow, sucking mud, from which the rain-washed tombstones +stood up in irregular battalions. The rats had retreated to their +burrows, and Masson had not seen one for days. But his gaunt, unshaved +face was set in frowning lines; the coffin on which he was standing was +a wooden one. + +The body had been buried several days earlier, but Masson had not dared +to disinter it before. A relative of the dead man had been coming to the +grave at intervals, even in the drenching rain. But he would hardly come +at this late hour, no matter how much grief he might be suffering, +Masson thought, grinning wryly. He straightened and laid the shovel +aside. + +From the hill on which the ancient graveyard lay he could see the lights +of Salem flickering dimly through the downpour. He drew a flashlight +from his pocket. He would need light now. Taking up the spade, he bent +and examined the fastenings of the coffin. + +Abruptly he stiffened. Beneath his feet he sensed an unquiet stirring +and scratching, as though something were moving within the coffin. For a +moment a pang of superstitious fear shot through Masson, and then rage +replaced it as he realized the significance of the sound. The rats had +forestalled him again! + +In a paroxysm of anger Masson wrenched at the fastenings of the coffin. +He got the sharp edge of the shovel under the lid and pried it up until +he could finish the job with his hands. Then he sent the flashlight’s +cold beam darting down into the coffin. + +Rain spattered against the white satin lining; the coffin was empty. +Masson saw a flicker of movement at the head of the case, and darted the +light in that direction. + +The end of the sarcophagus had been gnawed through, and a gaping hole +led into darkness. A black shoe, limp and dragging, was disappearing as +Masson watched, and abruptly he realized that the rats had forestalled +him by only a few minutes. He fell on his hands and knees and made a +hasty clutch at the shoe, and the flashlight incontinently fell into the +coffin and went out. The shoe was tugged from his grasp; he heard a +sharp, excited squealing, and then he had the flashlight again and was +darting its light into the burrow. + +It was a large one. It had to be, or the corpse could not have been +dragged along it. Masson wondered at the size of the rats that could +carry away a man’s body, but the thought of the loaded revolver in his +pocket fortified him. Probably if the corpse had been an ordinary one +Masson would have left the rats with their spoils rather than venture +into the narrow burrow, but he remembered an especially fine set of +cuff-links he had observed, as well as a stickpin that was undoubtedly a +genuine pearl. With scarcely a pause he clipped the flashlight to his +belt and crept into the burrow. + +It was a tight fit, but he managed to squeeze himself along. Ahead of +him in the flashlight’s glow he could see the shoes dragging along the +wet earth of the bottom of the tunnel. He crept along the burrow as +rapidly as he could, occasionally barely able to squeeze his lean body +through the narrow walls. + +The air was overpowering with its musty stench of carrion. If he could +not reach the corpse in a minute, Masson decided, he would turn back. +Belated fears were beginning to crawl, maggot-like, within his mind, but +greed urged him on. He crawled forward, several times passing the mouths +of adjoining tunnels. The walls of the burrow were damp and slimy, and +twice lumps of dirt dropped behind him. The second time he paused and +screwed his head around to look back. He could see nothing, of course, +until he had unhooked the flashlight from his belt and reversed it. + +Several clods lay on the ground behind him, and the danger of his +position suddenly became real and terrifying. With thoughts of a cave-in +making his pulse race, he decided to abandon the pursuit, even though he +had now almost overtaken the corpse and the invisible things that pulled +it. But he had overlooked one thing: the burrow was too narrow to allow +him to turn. + +Panic touched him briefly, but he remembered a side tunnel he had just +passed, and backed awkwardly along the tunnel until he came to it. He +thrust his legs into it, backing until he found himself able to turn. +Then he hurriedly began to retrace his way, although his knees were +bruised and painful. + +Agonizing pain shot through his leg. He felt sharp teeth sink into his +flesh, and kicked out frantically. There was a shrill squealing and the +scurry of many feet. Flashing the light behind him, Masson caught his +breath in a sob of fear as he saw a dozen great rats watching him +intently, their slitted eyes glittering in the light. They were great +misshapen things, as large as cats, and behind them he caught a glimpse +of a dark shape that stirred and moved swiftly aside into the shadow; +and he shuddered at the unbelievable size of the thing. + +The light had held them for a moment, but they were edging closer, their +teeth dull orange in the pale light. Masson tugged at his pistol, +managed to extricate it from his pocket, and aimed carefully. It was an +awkward position, and he tried to press his feet into the soggy sides of +the burrow so that he should not inadvertently send a bullet into one of +them. + + * * * * * + +The rolling thunder of the shot deafened him, for a time, and the clouds +of smoke set him coughing. When he could hear again and the smoke had +cleared, he saw that the rats were gone. He put the pistol back and +began to creep swiftly along the tunnel, and then with a scurry and a +rush they were upon him again. + +They swarmed over his legs, biting and squealing insanely, and Masson +shrieked horribly as he snatched for his gun. He fired without aiming, +and only luck saved him from blowing a foot off. This time the rats did +not retreat so far, but Masson was crawling as swiftly as he could along +the burrow, ready to fire again at the first sound of another attack. + +There was a patter of feet and he sent the light stabbing back of him. A +great gray rat paused and watched him. Its long ragged whiskers +twitched, and its scabrous, naked tail was moving slowly from side to +side. Masson shouted and the rat retreated. + +He crawled on, pausing briefly, the black gap of a side tunnel at his +elbow, as he made out a shapeless huddle on the damp clay a few yards +ahead. For a second he thought it was a mass of earth that had been +dislodged from the roof, and then he recognized it as a human body. + +It was a brown and shriveled mummy, and with a dreadful unbelieving +shock Masson realized that it was moving. + +It was crawling toward him, and in the pale glow of the flashlight the +man saw a frightful gargoyle face thrust into his own. It was the +passionless, death’s-head skull of a long-dead corpse, instinct with +hellish life; and the glazed eyes swollen and bulbous betrayed the +thing’s blindness. It made a faint groaning sound at it crawled toward +Masson, stretching its ragged and granulated lips in a grin of dreadful +hunger. And Masson was frozen with abysmal fear and loathing. + +Just before the Horror touched him, Masson flung himself frantically +into the burrow at his side. He heard a scrambling noise at his heels, +and the thing groaned dully as it came after him. Masson, glancing over +his shoulder, screamed and propelled himself desperately through the +narrow burrow. He crawled along awkwardly, sharp stones cutting his +hands and knees. Dirt showered into his eyes, but he dared not pause +even for a moment. He scrambled on, gasping, cursing, and praying +hysterically. + +Squealing triumphantly, the rats came at him, horrible hunger in their +eyes. Masson almost succumbed to their vicious teeth before he succeeded +in beating them off. The passage was narrowing, and in a frenzy of +terror he kicked and screamed and fired until the hammer clicked on an +empty shell. But he had driven them off. + +He found himself crawling under a great stone, embedded in the roof, +that dug cruelly into his back. It moved a little as his weight struck +it, and an idea flashed into Masson’s fright-crazed mind. If he could +bring down the stone so that it blocked the tunnel! + +The earth was wet and soggy from the rains, and he hunched himself half +upright and dug away at the dirt around the stone. The rats were coming +closer. He saw their eyes glowing in the reflection of the flashlight’s +beam. Still he clawed frantically at the earth. The stone was giving. He +tugged at it and it rocked in its foundation. + + * * * * * + +A rat was approaching—the monster he had already glimpsed. Gray and +leprous and hideous it crept forward with its orange teeth bared, and in +its wake came the blind dead thing, groaning as it crawled. Masson gave +a last frantic tug at the stone. He felt it slide downward, and then he +went scrambling along the tunnel. + +Behind him the stone crashed down, and he heard a sudden frightful +shriek of agony. Clods showered upon his legs. A heavy weight fell on +his feet and he dragged them free with difficulty. The entire tunnel was +collapsing! + +Gasping with fear, Masson threw himself forward as the soggy earth +collapsed at his heels. The tunnel narrowed until he could barely use +his hands and legs to propel himself; he wriggled forward like an eel +and suddenly felt satin tearing beneath his clawing fingers, and then +his head crashed against something that barred his path. He moved his +legs, discovering that they were not pinned under the collapsed earth. +He was lying flat on his stomach, and when he tried to raise himself he +found that the roof was only a few inches from his back. Panic shot +through him. + +When the blind horror had blocked his path, he had flung himself +desperately into a side tunnel, a tunnel that had no outlet. He was _in +a coffin_, an empty coffin into which he had crept through the hole the +rats had gnawed in its end! + +He tried to turn on his back and found that he could not. The lid of the +coffin pinned him down inexorably. Then he braced himself and strained +at the coffin lid. It was immovable, and even if he could escape from +the sarcophagus, how could he claw his way up through five feet of +hard-packed earth? + +He found himself gasping. It was dreadfully fetid, unbearably hot. In a +paroxysm of terror he ripped and clawed at the satin until it was +shredded. He made a futile attempt to dig with his feet at the earth +from the collapsed burrow that blocked his retreat. If he were only able +to reverse his position he might be able to claw his way through to +air... air.... + +White-hot agony lanced through his breast, throbbed in his eyeballs. His +head seemed to be swelling, growing larger and larger; and suddenly he +heard the exultant squealing of the rats. He began to scream insanely +but could not drown them out. For a moment he thrashed about +hysterically within his narrow prison, and then he was quiet, gasping +for air. His eyelids closed, his blackened tongue protruded, and he sank +down into the blackness of death with the mad squealing of the rats +dinning in his ears. + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79279 *** diff --git a/79279-h/79279-h.htm b/79279-h/79279-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..76aacb2 --- /dev/null +++ b/79279-h/79279-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,389 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Graveyard Rats | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } +hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +x-ebookmaker-drop {display: none;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap { font-variant:small-caps; } + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +div.titlepage { + text-align: center; + page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; +} + +div.titlepage p { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; + margin-top: 3em; +} + +.ph1 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph1 { font-size: x-large; margin: .83em auto; } + +.ph2 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph2 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } + + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79279 ***</div> + + +<div class="titlepage"> + +<h1>The Graveyard Rats</h1> + +<p class="ph1">By HENRY KUTTNER</p> + +<p><i>A gruesome fate befell the old caretaker of the<br> +cemetery in the horrible burrows beneath the graves</i></p> + +<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br> +Weird Tales, March 1936.]<br> +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br> +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>Old Masson, the caretaker of one of Salem’s oldest and most neglected +cemeteries, had a feud with the rats. Generations ago they had come up +from the wharves and settled in the graveyard, a colony of abnormally +large rats, and when Masson had taken charge after the inexplicable +disappearance of the former caretaker, he decided that they must go. At +first he set traps for them and put poisoned food by their burrows, and +later he tried to shoot them, but it did no good. The rats stayed, +multiplying and overrunning the graveyard with their ravenous hordes.</p> + +<p>They were large, even for the <i>mus decumanus</i>, which sometimes measures +fifteen inches in length, exclusive of the naked pink and gray tail. +Masson had caught glimpses of some as large as good-sized cats, and +when, once or twice, the grave-diggers had uncovered their burrows, the +malodorous tunnels were large enough to enable a man to crawl into them +on his hands and knees. The ships that had come generations ago from +distant ports to the rotting Salem wharves had brought strange cargoes.</p> + +<p>Masson wondered sometimes at the extraordinary size of these burrows. He +recalled certain vaguely disturbing legends he had heard since coming to +ancient, witch-haunted Salem—tales of a moribund, inhuman life that was +said to exist in forgotten burrows in the earth. The old days, when +Cotton Mather had hunted down the evil cults that worshipped Hecate and +the dark Magna Mater in frightful orgies, had passed; but dark gabled +houses still leaned perilously toward each other over narrow cobbled +streets, and blasphemous secrets and mysteries were said to be hidden in +subterranean cellars and caverns, where forgotten pagan rites were still +celebrated in defiance of law and sanity. Wagging their gray heads +wisely, the elders declared that there were worse things than rats and +maggots crawling in the unhallowed earth of the ancient Salem +cemeteries.</p> + +<p>And then, too, there was this curious dread of the rats. Masson disliked +and respected the ferocious little rodents, for he knew the danger that +lurked in their flashing, needle-sharp fangs; but he could not +understand the inexplicable horror which the oldsters held for deserted, +rat-infested houses. He had heard vague rumors of ghoulish beings that +dwelt far underground, and that had the power of commanding the rats, +marshaling them like horrible armies. The rats, the old men whispered, +were messengers between this world and the grim and ancient caverns far +below Salem. Bodies had been stolen from graves for nocturnal +subterranean feasts, they said. The myth of the Pied Piper is a fable +that hides a blasphemous horror, and the black pits of Avernus have +brought forth hell-spawned monstrosities that never venture into the +light of day.</p> + +<p>Masson paid little attention to these tales. He did not fraternize with +his neighbors, and, in fact, did all he could to hide the existence of +the rats from intruders. Investigation, he realized, would undoubtedly +mean the opening of many graves. And while some of the gnawed, empty +coffins could be attributed to the activities of the rats, Masson might +find it difficult to explain the mutilated bodies that lay in some of +the coffins.</p> + +<p>The purest gold is used in filling teeth, and this gold is not removed +when a man is buried. Clothing, of course, is another matter; for +usually the undertaker provides a plain broadcloth suit that is cheap +and easily recognizable. But gold is another matter; and sometimes, too, +there were medical students and less reputable doctors who were in need +of cadavers, and not over-scrupulous as to where these were obtained.</p> + +<p>So far Masson had successfully managed to discourage investigation. He +had fiercely denied the existence of the rats, even though they +sometimes robbed him of his prey. Masson did not care what happened to +the bodies after he had performed his gruesome thefts, but the rats +inevitably dragged away the whole cadaver through the hole they gnawed +in the coffin.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The size of these burrows occasionally worried Masson. Then, too, there +was the curious circumstance of the coffins always being gnawed open at +the end, never at the side or top. It was almost as though the rats were +working under the direction of some impossibly intelligent leader.</p> + +<p>Now he stood in an open grave and threw a last sprinkling of wet earth +on the heap beside the pit. It was raining, a slow, cold drizzle that +for weeks had been descending from soggy black clouds. The graveyard was +a slough of yellow, sucking mud, from which the rain-washed tombstones +stood up in irregular battalions. The rats had retreated to their +burrows, and Masson had not seen one for days. But his gaunt, unshaved +face was set in frowning lines; the coffin on which he was standing was +a wooden one.</p> + +<p>The body had been buried several days earlier, but Masson had not dared +to disinter it before. A relative of the dead man had been coming to the +grave at intervals, even in the drenching rain. But he would hardly come +at this late hour, no matter how much grief he might be suffering, +Masson thought, grinning wryly. He straightened and laid the shovel +aside.</p> + +<p>From the hill on which the ancient graveyard lay he could see the lights +of Salem flickering dimly through the downpour. He drew a flashlight +from his pocket. He would need light now. Taking up the spade, he bent +and examined the fastenings of the coffin.</p> + +<p>Abruptly he stiffened. Beneath his feet he sensed an unquiet stirring +and scratching, as though something were moving within the coffin. For a +moment a pang of superstitious fear shot through Masson, and then rage +replaced it as he realized the significance of the sound. The rats had +forestalled him again!</p> + +<p>In a paroxysm of anger Masson wrenched at the fastenings of the coffin. +He got the sharp edge of the shovel under the lid and pried it up until +he could finish the job with his hands. Then he sent the flashlight’s +cold beam darting down into the coffin.</p> + +<p>Rain spattered against the white satin lining; the coffin was empty. +Masson saw a flicker of movement at the head of the case, and darted the +light in that direction.</p> + +<p>The end of the sarcophagus had been gnawed through, and a gaping hole +led into darkness. A black shoe, limp and dragging, was disappearing as +Masson watched, and abruptly he realized that the rats had forestalled +him by only a few minutes. He fell on his hands and knees and made a +hasty clutch at the shoe, and the flashlight incontinently fell into the +coffin and went out. The shoe was tugged from his grasp; he heard a +sharp, excited squealing, and then he had the flashlight again and was +darting its light into the burrow.</p> + +<p>It was a large one. It had to be, or the corpse could not have been +dragged along it. Masson wondered at the size of the rats that could +carry away a man’s body, but the thought of the loaded revolver in his +pocket fortified him. Probably if the corpse had been an ordinary one +Masson would have left the rats with their spoils rather than venture +into the narrow burrow, but he remembered an especially fine set of +cuff-links he had observed, as well as a stickpin that was undoubtedly a +genuine pearl. With scarcely a pause he clipped the flashlight to his +belt and crept into the burrow.</p> + +<p>It was a tight fit, but he managed to squeeze himself along. Ahead of +him in the flashlight’s glow he could see the shoes dragging along the +wet earth of the bottom of the tunnel. He crept along the burrow as +rapidly as he could, occasionally barely able to squeeze his lean body +through the narrow walls.</p> + +<p>The air was overpowering with its musty stench of carrion. If he could +not reach the corpse in a minute, Masson decided, he would turn back. +Belated fears were beginning to crawl, maggot-like, within his mind, but +greed urged him on. He crawled forward, several times passing the mouths +of adjoining tunnels. The walls of the burrow were damp and slimy, and +twice lumps of dirt dropped behind him. The second time he paused and +screwed his head around to look back. He could see nothing, of course, +until he had unhooked the flashlight from his belt and reversed it.</p> + +<p>Several clods lay on the ground behind him, and the danger of his +position suddenly became real and terrifying. With thoughts of a cave-in +making his pulse race, he decided to abandon the pursuit, even though he +had now almost overtaken the corpse and the invisible things that pulled +it. But he had overlooked one thing: the burrow was too narrow to allow +him to turn.</p> + +<p>Panic touched him briefly, but he remembered a side tunnel he had just +passed, and backed awkwardly along the tunnel until he came to it. He +thrust his legs into it, backing until he found himself able to turn. +Then he hurriedly began to retrace his way, although his knees were +bruised and painful.</p> + +<p>Agonizing pain shot through his leg. He felt sharp teeth sink into his +flesh, and kicked out frantically. There was a shrill squealing and the +scurry of many feet. Flashing the light behind him, Masson caught his +breath in a sob of fear as he saw a dozen great rats watching him +intently, their slitted eyes glittering in the light. They were great +misshapen things, as large as cats, and behind them he caught a glimpse +of a dark shape that stirred and moved swiftly aside into the shadow; +and he shuddered at the unbelievable size of the thing.</p> + +<p>The light had held them for a moment, but they were edging closer, their +teeth dull orange in the pale light. Masson tugged at his pistol, +managed to extricate it from his pocket, and aimed carefully. It was an +awkward position, and he tried to press his feet into the soggy sides of +the burrow so that he should not inadvertently send a bullet into one of +them.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The rolling thunder of the shot deafened him, for a time, and the clouds +of smoke set him coughing. When he could hear again and the smoke had +cleared, he saw that the rats were gone. He put the pistol back and +began to creep swiftly along the tunnel, and then with a scurry and a +rush they were upon him again.</p> + +<p>They swarmed over his legs, biting and squealing insanely, and Masson +shrieked horribly as he snatched for his gun. He fired without aiming, +and only luck saved him from blowing a foot off. This time the rats did +not retreat so far, but Masson was crawling as swiftly as he could along +the burrow, ready to fire again at the first sound of another attack.</p> + +<p>There was a patter of feet and he sent the light stabbing back of him. A +great gray rat paused and watched him. Its long ragged whiskers +twitched, and its scabrous, naked tail was moving slowly from side to +side. Masson shouted and the rat retreated.</p> + +<p>He crawled on, pausing briefly, the black gap of a side tunnel at his +elbow, as he made out a shapeless huddle on the damp clay a few yards +ahead. For a second he thought it was a mass of earth that had been +dislodged from the roof, and then he recognized it as a human body.</p> + +<p>It was a brown and shriveled mummy, and with a dreadful unbelieving +shock Masson realized that it was moving.</p> + +<p>It was crawling toward him, and in the pale glow of the flashlight the +man saw a frightful gargoyle face thrust into his own. It was the +passionless, death’s-head skull of a long-dead corpse, instinct with +hellish life; and the glazed eyes swollen and bulbous betrayed the +thing’s blindness. It made a faint groaning sound at it crawled toward +Masson, stretching its ragged and granulated lips in a grin of dreadful +hunger. And Masson was frozen with abysmal fear and loathing.</p> + +<p>Just before the Horror touched him, Masson flung himself frantically +into the burrow at his side. He heard a scrambling noise at his heels, +and the thing groaned dully as it came after him. Masson, glancing over +his shoulder, screamed and propelled himself desperately through the +narrow burrow. He crawled along awkwardly, sharp stones cutting his +hands and knees. Dirt showered into his eyes, but he dared not pause +even for a moment. He scrambled on, gasping, cursing, and praying +hysterically.</p> + +<p>Squealing triumphantly, the rats came at him, horrible hunger in their +eyes. Masson almost succumbed to their vicious teeth before he succeeded +in beating them off. The passage was narrowing, and in a frenzy of +terror he kicked and screamed and fired until the hammer clicked on an +empty shell. But he had driven them off.</p> + +<p>He found himself crawling under a great stone, embedded in the roof, +that dug cruelly into his back. It moved a little as his weight struck +it, and an idea flashed into Masson’s fright-crazed mind. If he could +bring down the stone so that it blocked the tunnel!</p> + +<p>The earth was wet and soggy from the rains, and he hunched himself half +upright and dug away at the dirt around the stone. The rats were coming +closer. He saw their eyes glowing in the reflection of the flashlight’s +beam. Still he clawed frantically at the earth. The stone was giving. He +tugged at it and it rocked in its foundation.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>A rat was approaching—the monster he had already glimpsed. Gray and +leprous and hideous it crept forward with its orange teeth bared, and in +its wake came the blind dead thing, groaning as it crawled. Masson gave +a last frantic tug at the stone. He felt it slide downward, and then he +went scrambling along the tunnel.</p> + +<p>Behind him the stone crashed down, and he heard a sudden frightful +shriek of agony. Clods showered upon his legs. A heavy weight fell on +his feet and he dragged them free with difficulty. The entire tunnel was +collapsing!</p> + +<p>Gasping with fear, Masson threw himself forward as the soggy earth +collapsed at his heels. The tunnel narrowed until he could barely use +his hands and legs to propel himself; he wriggled forward like an eel +and suddenly felt satin tearing beneath his clawing fingers, and then +his head crashed against something that barred his path. He moved his +legs, discovering that they were not pinned under the collapsed earth. +He was lying flat on his stomach, and when he tried to raise himself he +found that the roof was only a few inches from his back. Panic shot +through him.</p> + +<p>When the blind horror had blocked his path, he had flung himself +desperately into a side tunnel, a tunnel that had no outlet. He was <i>in +a coffin</i>, an empty coffin into which he had crept through the hole the +rats had gnawed in its end!</p> + +<p>He tried to turn on his back and found that he could not. The lid of the +coffin pinned him down inexorably. Then he braced himself and strained +at the coffin lid. It was immovable, and even if he could escape from +the sarcophagus, how could he claw his way up through five feet of +hard-packed earth?</p> + +<p>He found himself gasping. It was dreadfully fetid, unbearably hot. In a +paroxysm of terror he ripped and clawed at the satin until it was +shredded. He made a futile attempt to dig with his feet at the earth +from the collapsed burrow that blocked his retreat. If he were only able +to reverse his position he might be able to claw his way through to +air... air....</p> + +<p>White-hot agony lanced through his breast, throbbed in his eyeballs. His +head seemed to be swelling, growing larger and larger; and suddenly he +heard the exultant squealing of the rats. He began to scream insanely +but could not drown them out. For a moment he thrashed about +hysterically within his narrow prison, and then he was quiet, gasping +for air. His eyelids closed, his blackened tongue protruded, and he sank +down into the blackness of death with the mad squealing of the rats +dinning in his ears.</p> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79279 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/79279-h/images/cover.jpg b/79279-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e9611b --- /dev/null +++ b/79279-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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