 This is a LibreVox recording. All LibreVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, go to www.LibreVox.org. That's L-I-V-R-I-V-O-X.org. Recorded by Glenn Holstrom, a.k.a. Smoke Stack Jones. Smoke Stack Jones at gmail.com. The Mask of the Red Death by Edgar Allen Poe. The Red Death had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal or so hideous. Blood was its avatar and it sealed the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains and sudden dizziness and then profuse bleeding at the pores with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow men. And the whole seizure, progress, and termination of the disease were the incidents of half an hour. But Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hail and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court and with these retired into deep seclusion into one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the Prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. His wall had gates of iron. The courtiers having entered brought furnaces and massy hammers and wielded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve or to think. The Prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons. There were improvisatory. There were ballet dancers. There were musicians. There was beauty. There was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the Red Death. It was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, and while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince Prospero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most unusual magnificence. It was a voluptuous scene that masquerade. But first let me tell of the rooms from which it was held. There were seven. An imperial suite. In many palaces however, such suites form a long and straight vista while the folding door slide back nearly to the walls on either hand so that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impede. Here the case was very different as might have been expected from the Duke's love of the bazaar. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that the vision embraced little more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, a tall and narrow gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were a stained glass whose color varied in accordance with the prevailing queue of the decorations of which the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for example, in blue, and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and there the panes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange. The fifth with white. The sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls. Falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same material and hue. But in this chamber only, the color of the windows failed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were scarlet, a deep blood color. Now in no one of the seven apartments was there any lamp or candle-obriam, amid the profusion of golden ornaments that they scattered to and fro or depended from the roof. There was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the suite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite there stood opposite to each window a heavy tripod bearing a brassiere of fire that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly illuminated the room, and thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and fantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber the effect of the firelight that streamed upon the dark hanging panes through the blood-tinted panes was ghastly in the extreme and produced so wild to look upon the countenances of those who entered that there were few of the company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all. It was in this apartment also that there stood against the western wall a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a dull heavy monotonous clang. And when the minute had made the circuit of the face and the hour was to be stricken, there came from the brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep and exceedingly musical but of so peculiar a note in emphasis that at each lapse of an hour the musicians of the orchestra were constrained to pause momentarily in their performance to hearken to the sound and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company and while the chimes of the clock yet rang it was observed that the giddiest grew pale and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in confused reverie or meditation. But when the echoes had fully ceased a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly. The musicians looked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and folly and made whispering vows each to the other that the next charming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion. And then after the lapse of sixty minutes which embraced three thousand and six hundred seconds of the time that flies there came yet another charming of the clock and then with the same disconcert and tremulousness and meditation as before. But in spite of these things it was a gay and magnificent rebel. The tastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colors and effects. He disregarded the decor of mere fashion. His plans were bold and fiery and his conceptions glowed with barbaric luster. There are some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he was not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be sure that he was not. He had directed in great part the movable embellishments of the seven chambers upon occasion of this great fet. And it was his own guiding taste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were grotesque. There was such glare and glitter and frequency and phantasm much of what has been since seen in herniani. There were arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bazaar, something of the terrible and not a little of that which might have excited disgust. Two in fro in the seven chambers was stalked in fact a multitude of dreams and these, the dreams, writhed in and out taking hue from the rooms and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the echo of their steps and anon there strikes the ebony clock which stands in the hall of the velvet. And then for a moment all is still and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are stiff frozen as they stand but the echoes of the chime die away. They have endured but an instant and the light, half subdued laughter floats after them as they depart and now again the music swells and the dreams live and rise to and fro more merrily than ever taking hue from the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the tripods but the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven there are now none of the maskers who venture for the night is waning away and there flows a rudder light of blood colored pains and the blackness of the sable drapery appalls and to him whose foot falls upon the sable carpet. There comes from the near clock of ebony a muffled peel more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches their ears who indulge in the most remote gateys of the other apartments but these other apartments were densely crowded and in them beat feverishly the heart of life and the revel went whirlingly on until at length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock and then the music ceased as I have told and the evolutions of the waltzes were quieted and there was an uneasy cessation of all things as before but now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell of the clock and thus it happened perhaps that more of thought crept with more of time into the meditations of the thoughtful among those who reveled and thus too it happened perhaps before the last echoes of the last chime that had utterly sunk into silence there were many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become aware of the presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no single individual before and the rumor of this new presence having spread itself whisperingly around there rose at length from the whole company of Buzz or murmur expressive of disappropriation and surprise and then finally of terror, of horror and of disgust in an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted there may well be supposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation in truth the masquerade license of the night was nearly unlimited but the figure in question had outherited Herod and gone beyond the bounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum there are cords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion even to the utterly lost to whom life and death were equally jests there are matters of which no jest can be made the whole company indeed seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of the stranger neither wit nor propriety existed the figure was tall and gaunt and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the grave the mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat and yet all this might have been endured if not proved by the mad revelers around but the mama had gone so far as to assume the type of the red death his vesture was dabbled in blood and his broad brow with all the features of a face was besprinkled with the scarlet horror when the eyes of the prince for sparrow fell upon the spectral image which with the slow and solemn movement as if more fully to sustain his role stalked to and fro among the waltzers he was seen to be convulsed in the first moment with a strong shudder of either terror or distaste but in the next his brow reddened with rage who dares he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery seize him and unmask him that we may know whom we have to hang at sunrise from the battlements it was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the prince for sparrow as he uttered these words they rang throughout the seven rooms loudly and clearly for the prince was a bold and robust man and the music had become hushed at the waving of his hand it was in the blue room west of the prince with a group of pale courtiers by his side at first as he spoke there was a slight rushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder who at the moment was also near at hand and now with deliberate and stately step made closer approach to the speaker but from a certain nameless awe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole party there were found none who put poor pens to seize him so that unimpeded he passed within a yard of the prince's person and while the vast assembly as if with one impulse shrank from the centers of the rooms to the walls he made his way uninterruptedly but with the same solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the first through the blue chamber to the purple through the purple to the green through the green to the orange through the white and even thence to the violet air he had decided movement had been made to arrest him it was then however that the prince was pharaoh maddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice rushed hurriedly through the six chambers while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that had seized upon all he bore a loft of drawn dagger and it approached in rapid impetuously to within three or four feet of the retreating figure when the latter having attained the extremity of the velvet apartment turned subtly and confronted his pursuer there was a sharp cry and the dagger dropped gleaming upon the sable carpet upon which instantly afterwards fell prostrate in death the prince for sparrow then summoning the wild courage of despair a throng of the revelers at once threw themselves into the black apartment and seizing the mummer whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock gasped in unutterable horror at finding the grave sermons and corpse-like mask which they handled with so violent a rudeness untented by any tangible form and now was acknowledged the presence of the red death he had come like a thief in the night and one by one dropped the revelers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel and died each in the despairing posture of his fall and the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay and the flames of the tripods expired and darkness and decay and the red death held illimitable dominion overall the end of the mask of the red deaths by Edgar Allan Poe A Strange Goldfield by Guy Boothby this is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Nav Poeza A Strange Goldfield by Guy Boothby Of course nine out of every ten intelligent persons will refuse to believe that there could be a grain of truth in the story I am now going to tell you The tenth may have some small faith in my veracity but what I think of his intelligence I am going to keep to myself In a certain portion of a certain Australian colony two miners were now prospecting in what was then as now one of the dreariest parts of the island continent tensed upon a rich find They applied to government for the usual reward and in less than a month three thousand people were settled on the field What privations they had to go through to get there and the miseries they had to endure when they did reach their journey's end have only a remote bearing on this story but they would make a big book I should explain that between a rail-cad and the field was a stretch of country some three hundred miles in extent It was badly watered, wildly grassed and execrably timbered What was even worse a considerable portion of it was made up of red sand and everybody who has been compelled to travel over that knows what it means Yet these enthusiastic seekers after wealth pushed on some on a horseback, some in bullock wagons but the majority travelled on foot The graves and the skeleton of cattle belonging to those who had preceded them punctuating the routine telling them what they might expect as they advanced that the field did not prove a success as no matter of history But that same history, if you read between the lines gives one some notion of what the life must have been like when it lasted The water supply was entirely insufficient Provisions were bad and ruinously expensive The men themselves as a rule were the roughest of the rough while the less said about the majority of the women the better The antifoids stepped in and stalked like the destroying angel through the camp Its inhabitants went down like sheep in a draught and for most part rose no more Where there had been a lust of gold there was now panic Terror, every man feared that he might be the next to be attacked and it was only the knowledge of those terrible 300 miles that separated them from civilization that kept many of them on the field The most thickly populated part was now the cemetery Drink was the only solace and under its influence such scenes were enacted as I dare not describe As they heard of fresh deaths men shook their fists at heaven and cursed the day when they first saw Pick a shovel Some borders in the rest cleared out just as they stood A few eventually reached civilization others perished in the desert At last the field was declared abandoned and the dead were left to take their last long sleep undisturbed by the clank of windlass or the blow of Pick It would take too long to tell all the different reasons that combined to draw me out into the most distressed for country The lid suffice that our party consisted of a young Englishman named Spicer a early old Australian Bushman named Matthews and myself We were better off than the unfortunate miners in as much as we were travelling with camels and our outfits was as perfect as money and experience could make them The man who travels in any other fashion in the country is neither more nor less than a madman For a month passed we've been having a fairly rough time of it and were then on our way south when we had reason to believe rain had fallen and in consequence grass was plentiful It was towards evening when we came out of a gully in their ranges and had our first few of the deserted comp We had no idea of its existence and for this reason we pulled up our animals and stared at it in complete surprise Then we pushed on again wondering what on earth place we had chanced upon This is alright, Spicer with a chuckle We're in luck, Grog shanties in stores, a bath and perhaps girls I took my head I can't make it out, what's it doing out here? Matthews was looking at it on his hand and I knew that he had been out in this direction on a previous occasion I asked his opinion It bates me, he replied But if you ask me what I think, I should say it's Garugna the field that was deserted some four or five years back Look here, cried Spicer, who was riding a bit on our left What are all these things? Graves, as I'm a living man Here, let's get out of this There are hundreds of them and before I know where I am all polyphemists here were beyond his nose What he said was correct The ground over which we were riding was literally bestruined with graves some of which had a rough, tumble-down headboard other being destitutes of old adornment We turned away and moved on over safer ground in the direction of the field itself Such a pitiful sight I never want to see again The tents and herds and numerous gazes were still standing while the claims gaped at us on every side like new-made graves A bullock drape with a wand but still in excellent condition stood in the main street outside a grog shanty whose signboard, strange in congruity bore the name of the Kilani Hotel Nothing would suit Spicer but that he must dismount and go in to explore He was not long away and when he returned it was with the face as white as a sheet of paper You never saw such a place, he almost whispered All I want to do is to get out of it There's a skeleton on the floor in the back room with an empty rum bottle alongside it He mounted and when his beast was on its feet once more we went on our way None of us was sorry when we had left the last claim behind us Half a mile and fifty from the field the country begins to rise again There's also a curious cliff away to the left and as it looked like being a likely place to find water we resolved to camp there We were within a hundred yards or so of this cliff and an exclamation from Spicer attracted my attention Look he cried, what's that? I followed the direction in which he was pointing and to my surprise saw the figure of a man running as if for his knife among the rocks I have said the figure of a man but as a matter of fact had there been baboons in the Australian bush I should have been inclined to have taken him for one This is a day of surprise as I said Who can the fellow be and what makes him act like that? We still continue to watch him as he proceeded on his erratic course along the base of the cliff Then he suddenly disappeared Let's get on to camp I said and then we'll go after him and endeavor to settle matters a bit Having selected a place we off-saddled and prepared our camp By this time it was nearly dark and it was very evident that if we wanted to discover the man we had seen it would be wise not to postpone the search too long We accordingly strolled off in the direction he had taken keeping a sharp lookout for any side of him Our search however was not successful The fellow had disappeared without leaving a trace of his whereabouts behind him and yet we were all certain that we had seen him At length we returned to our camp for supper completely mystified As we had our meal we discussed the problem and vowed that on the moral we would renew the search Then the full moon rose over the cliff and the plane immediately became well nigh as bright as day I had lit my pipe and was stretching myself out upon my blankets when something induced me to look across at a big rock some half dozen pages from the fire Peering round it and evidently taking an absorbing interest in our drinks was the most extraordinary figure I have ever beheld Shelting something to my companions I sprank to my feet and dashed across at him He saw me and fled All as he apparently was he could run like a jackrabbit and though I have the reputation of being fairly quick on my feet I found that I had all my work cut out to catch him Indeed I'm rather doubtful as to whether I should have done so at all had he not tripped and measured his legs on the ground Before he could get up I was on him I've got you at last my friend I said now you just come along back to the camp and let us have a look at you In reply he snarled like a dog and I believe would have bitten me had I not held him off My word he was a creature more animal than man and the reek of him was worse than that of our camels From what I could tell he must have been about sixty years of age was below the middle height had wide eyebrows, white hair and a white beard He was dressed partly in rags and partly in skins and went barefooted like a black fellow While I was overhounding him the others came up whereupon we escorted him back to the camp Oh what wooden bottom gift for him says Spicer You're a beauty my friend and no mistake What's your name? The fellow only grunted in reply then seeing the pipes in our mouths A curious change came over him and he muttered something that resembled give me Once a smoke interrupted Matthew's Poor bag has been without for a long time I reckon Well I've got an old pipe so you can have a draw He procured one from his back saddle, filled it and handed it to the man who snatched it greedily and began to puff away at it How long have you been out here? I asked when he had squatted himself down alongside the fire Don't know, he answered this time plainly enough Can't you get back, continued Matthews who knew the nature of the country on the other side Don't want to, was the other's laconic reply, stay here I heard Spicer mutter, mad, mad as a march here We then tried to get out of him where he hailed from but he had either forgotten or didn't understand Next we inquired how he managed to live To this he answered readily enough, Carnies Now the Carnie is a lizard of the iguana type and eaten raw would be by no means an appetizing dish Then came the question that gives me my reason for telling this story It was Spicer who put it You must have a lonely time of it out here said the latter, how did you manage for company? There is the field he said, as sociable a field as you'd find But the field's deserted man, they put in, and has been for years The old fellow shook his head, as sociable a field as you ever saw, he repeated There's Sailor Dick and Frisco, Dick Johnson, Cockney Jerm, and a half a hundred of them They're taking it out power for rich on the Golden South, so I heard when I was down at the Canary a while back It was plain to us all that the old man was, as Spicer had said, as mad as a hatter For some minutes he rumbled on about the field, talking rationally enough I must confess that is to say it would have seemed rational enough if we hadn't known the true facts of the case At last he got on to his feet saying, well, I must be going, that'll be expecting me, it's my shift on with Cockney Jerm But you don't work at night, growled Matthews from the other side of the fire We work always, the other replied, if you don't believe me come and see for yourselves I wouldn't go back to that place for anything, said Spicer But I must confess that my curiosity had been aroused, and I determined to go if only to see what this strange creature did when we got there Matthew decided to accompany me and not wishing to be left alone, Spicer at length agreed to do the same Without looking round, the old fellow led the way across the plain towards the field Of all the nocturnal excursions I've made in my life, that was certainly the most uncanny Not once did our guide turn his head, but pushed on at a pace that gave us some trouble to keep up with him It was only when we came to the first claim that he paused Listen, he said, and you can hear the camp at work, then you'll believe me We did listen, and as I live, we could distantly hear the rustling of sluice boxes and cradles, the groaning of windlasses In fact, the noise you hear on a goldfield is the busiest hour of the day We moved a little closer, and believe me or not, I swear to you I could see A thought I could see, the shadowy forms of men moving about in that ghostly moonlight Meanwhile, the wind sighed across the plain, flapping what remained of the old tents And giving an additional touch of horror to the general desolation I could hear Spicer's teeth chattering behind me, and for my own part I felt as if my blood were turning to ice That's the claim, the golden south away to the right there, said the old man And if you will come along with me, I'll introduce it to my mates But this was an honor we declined in without hesitation I wouldn't have gone any further among those tents for the wealth of all the Indies I've had enough of this, Spicer, and I can tell you I hardly recognize his voice Let's get back to camp By this time, our guide had left us, and was making his way in the direction he had indicated We could plainly hear him addressing imaginary people as we marched along As for ourselves, we turned about and hurried back to our camp as fast as we could go Once there, the grog bottle was produced and never did three months done more in need of stimulants Then we set to work to find some explanation of what we had seen or had fancied we saw, but it was impossible The wind might have rattled the old windlasses, but it could not be held accountable for those shadowy gray forms that had moved about among the claims I give it up, said Spicer at last I know that I never want to see it again What's more, I vote that we clear out of here tomorrow morning We all agreed and then retired to our blankets, but for my part I do not mind confessing I scarcely slept a wink all night The thought that that hideous old man might be hanging about the camp would alone be sufficient for that Next morning, as soon as it was light, we breakfasted, but before we broke camp, Matthews and I set off along the cliff in an attempt to discover our acquaintance of the previous evening Though, however, we searched high and low for a pause over an hour, no success rewarded us By mutual consent, we resolved not to look for him on a field When we returned to Spicer, we placed such tobacco in stores as we could spare under the shadow of the big rock where the mystery would be likely to see them, then mounted our camels and resumed our journey heartily glad to be on our way once more Garonia Goldfield is a place I never desire to visit again I don't like its population End of A Strange Goldfield The Strange Orchid by H. G. Wells This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Jason Mills The Strange Orchid by H. G. Wells The buying of orchids always has in it a certain speculative flavour You have before you the brown shriveled lump of tissue and for the rest you must trust your judgement or the auctioneer or your good luck as your test may incline The plant may be moribund or dead or it may be just a respectable purchase, fair value for your money or perhaps, where the thing has happened again and again there slowly unfolds before the delighted eyes of the happy purchaser day after day, some new variety some novel richness, a strange twist of the labellum or some subtle colouration or unexpected mimicry Pride, beauty and profit blossom together on one delicate green spike and it may be even immortality for the new miracle of nature may stand in need of a new specific name and what so convenient as that of its discoverer John Smithia There have been worse names It was perhaps the hope of some such happy discovery that made Winter Wedderburn such a frequent attendant to these sales That hope and also maybe the fact that he had nothing else of the slightest interest to do in the world He was a shy, lonely, rather ineffectual man provided with just enough income to keep off the spur of necessity and not enough nervous energy to make him seek any exacting employments He might have collected stamps or coins or translated horrors or bound books or invented new species of diatoms but as it happened he grew orchids and had one ambitious little hot house I have a fancy, he said, over his coffee that something is going to happen to me today He spoke, as he moved and thought, slowly Oh, don't say that, said his housekeeper who was also his remote cousin for something happening was a euphemism that meant only one thing to her You misunderstand me I mean nothing unpleasant though what I do mean I scarcely know Today, he continued after a pause Peter's are going to sell a batch of plants from the Andermans and the Indies I shall go up and see what they have It may be I shall buy something good or not wears That may be it He passed his cup for his second cup full of coffee Are these the things collected by that poor young fellow you told me of the other day? Asked his cousin as she filled his cup Yes, he said and became meditative over a piece of toast Nothing ever does happen to me he remarked presently beginning to think aloud I wonder why things enough happened to other people There is Harvey only the other week On Monday he picked up sixpence On Wednesday his chicks all had the staggers On Friday his cousin came home from Australia and on Saturday he broke his ankle What a whirl of excitement compared to me I think I would rather be without so much excitement said his housekeeper It can't be good for you I suppose it's troublesome Still, you see, nothing ever happens to me When I was a little boy I never had accidents I never fell in love as I grew up Never married I wonder how it feels to have something happen to you Something really remarkable That orchid collector was only 36 20 years younger than myself when he died And he had been married twice and divorced once He had had malarial fever four times and once he broke his thigh He killed a Malay once and once he was wounded by a poisoned dart And in the end he was killed by jungle leeches It must have all been very troublesome But then it must have been very interesting, you know Except perhaps the leeches I am sure it was not good for him said the lady with conviction Perhaps not And then Wedderburn looked at his watch 23 minutes past eight I am going up by the quarter to twelve train so that there is plenty of time I think I should wear my alpaca jacket It is quite warm enough And my grey felt hat and brown shoes I suppose He glanced out of the window at the serene sky and sunlit garden and then nervously at his cousin's face I think you had better take an umbrella if you were going to London, she said and a voice that admitted of no denial There's all between here and the station coming back When he returned he was in a state of mild excitement He had made a purchase It was rare that he could make up his mind quickly enough to buy And so There are vanders, he said and a dendrob and some paleonorphis He surveyed his purchase lovingly as he consumed his soup Then were laid out on a spotless tablecloth before him And he was telling his cousin all about them as he slowly meandered through his dinner It was his custom to live all his visits to London over again in the evening for her and his own entertainment I knew something would happen today and I have bought all these Some of them Some of them I feel sure that some of them will be remarkable I don't know how it is but I feel just as sure as if someone had told me that some of these will turn out remarkable That one He pointed to a shriveled rhizome was not identified It may be a paleonorphis or it may not It may be a new species or even a new genus and it was the last that poor baton ever collected I don't like the look of it said his housekeeper It's such an ugly shape To me it scarcely seems to have a shape I don't like those things that stick out said his housekeeper It should be put away in a pot tomorrow It looks said the housekeeper like a spider shaming dead Wetterburn smiled and severed the root with his head on one side It is certainly not a pretty lump of stuff But you can never judge of these things from their dry appearance It may turn out to be a very beautiful orchid indeed How busy I shall be tomorrow I must see tonight just exactly what to do with these things and tomorrow I shall set to work They found poor baton lying dead or dying in a mangrove swamp I forget which He began again presently With one of these very orchids crushed up under his body He had been unwell for some days with some kind of native fever and I suppose he fainted These mangrove swamps are very unwholesome Every drop of blood they say was taken out of him by the jungle leeches It may be that very plant that cost him his life to obtain I think none the better of it for that Men must work though women may weep said Wedeburn with profound gravity Fancy dying away from every comfort in a nasty swamp Fancy being ill of fever with nothing to take but chlorodine and quinine If men were left to themselves they would live on chlorodine and quinine and no one round you but horrible natives They say the Andaman Islanders are most disgusting wretches and anyhow they can scarcely make good nurses not having the necessary training and just for people in England to have orchids I don't suppose it was comfortable but some men seem to enjoy that kind of thing said Wedeburn Anyhow the natives of his party were sufficiently civilised to take care of all his collection until his colleague who was an ornithologist came back again from the interior Though they could not tell the species of the orchid and had let it wither and it makes these things more interesting It makes them disgusting I should be afraid of some of the malaria clinging to them I just think there has been a dead body lying across that ugly thing I never thought of that before There! I declare I cannot eat another mouthful of dinner I'll take them off the table if you like and put them in the window seat I can see them just as well there The next few days he was indeed singularly busy in his steamy little hot house flossing about with charcoal, lumps of teak, moss and all the other mysteries of the orchid cultivator He considered he was having a wonderfully eventful time In the evening he would talk about these new orchids to his friends and over and over again he reverted to his expectation of something strange Several of the vandas and the dendrobium died under his care But presently the strange orchid began to show signs of life He was delighted and took his housekeeper right away from jam-making to see it at once directly he made the discovery that is a bud, he said and presently there would be a lot of leaves there and those little things coming out here are aerial rootlets They looked at me like little white fingers poking out of the brown I don't like them, said his housekeeper Why not? I don't know They look like fingers trying to get at you I can't help my likes and dislikes I don't know for certain but I don't think there are any orchids I know that have aerial rootlets quite like that It may be my fancy, of course You see they are a little flattened at the ends I don't like them, said his housekeeper suddenly shivering and turning away I know it's very silly of me and I'm very sorry particularly as you like the thing so much but I can't help thinking of that corpse But it may not be that particular plant that was merely a guess of mine This housekeeper shrugged her shoulders Anyhow, I don't like it, she said When a bone felt a little hurt at her dislike to the plant But that did not prevent his talking to her about orchids generally and this orchid in particular whenever he felt inclined There are such queer things about orchids he said one day such possibilities of surprises You know Darwin studied their fertilization and showed that the whole structure of an ordinary orchid flower was contrived in order that moths might carry the pollen from plant to plant Well, it seems that there are lots of orchids known, the flower of which cannot possibly be used for fertilization in that way Some of the Cypripediums for instance There are no insects known that can possibly fertilize them and some of them have never been found with seed But how do they form new plants? By runners and tubers and that kind of outgrowth that is easily explained The puzzle is what are the flowers for? Very likely he added My orchid may be something extraordinary in that way If so, I shall study it I have often thought of making researches as Darwin did but hitherto I have not found the time or something else has happened to prevent it The leaves are beginning to unfold now I do wish you would come and see them But she said that the orchid house was so hot it gave her the headache She had seen the plant once again and the aerial rootlets which were now some of them more than a foot long had unfortunately reminded her of tentacles reaching out after something and they got into her dreams growing after her with incredible rapidity so that she had settled her entire satisfaction that she would not see that plant again and Wedderburn had to admire its leaves alone There were of the ordinary broad form and a deep glossy green with splashes and dots of deep red towards the verse He knew of no other leaves quite like them The plant was placed on a low bench near the thermometer and close by was a simple arrangement by which a tap dripped on the hot water pipes and kept the air steamy He spent his afternoons now with some regularity meditating on the approaching flowering of the strange plant and at last the great thing happened Directly he entered the little glass house he knew that the spike had burst out although his great polyanorphous low eye hid the corner where his new darling stood There was a new order in the air a rich intensely sweet scent that overpowered every other in that crowded steaming little greenhouse Directly he noticed this he hurried down to the strange orchid and behold the trailing green spikes bore now three great splashes of blossom from which this overpowering sweetness proceeded He stopped before them in an ecstasy of admiration The flowers were white with streaks of golden orange upon the petals The heavy labellum was coiled into an intricate projection and a wonderful bluish purple mingled there with the gold He could see at once that the genus was altogether a new one and the insufferable scent How hot the place was the blossom swam before his eyes He would see if the temperature was right He made a step towards the thermometer Suddenly everything appeared unsteady The bricks on the floor were dancing up and down Then the white blossoms, the green leaves behind them the whole greenhouse seemed to sweep sideways and then in a curve upward At half past four his cousin made the tea according to their invariable custom But Wetherbone did not come in for his tea He is worshipping that horrid orchid, she told herself and waited ten minutes His watch must have stopped I will go and call him She went straight to the hot house and opening the door called his name There was no reply She noticed that the air was very close and loaded with an intense perfume Then she saw something lying on the bricks between the hot water pipes for a minute perhaps she stood, motionless He was lying face upward at the foot of the strange orchid The tentacle-like aerial rootlets no longer swayed freely in the air but were crowded together a tangle of grey ropes and stretched tight with their ends closely applied to his chin and neck and hands She did not understand Then she saw from one of the exultant tentacles upon his cheek there trickled a little thread of blood With an inarticulate cry she ran towards him and tried to pull him away from the leech-like suckers She snapped two of these tentacles and their sap dripped red Then the overpowering scent of the blossom began to make her head real How they clung to him She tore at the tough ropes and he and the white inflorescence swam about her She felt she was fainting knew she must not She left him and hastily opened the nearest door and after she had panted for a moment in the fresh air she had a brilliant inspiration She caught up a flower pot in the windows at the end of the greenhouse Then she re-entered She tugged now with renewed strength at Wetterburn's motionless body and brought the strange orchid crashing to the floor It still clung with the grimace tenacity to its victim In a frenzy she lugged it and him into the open air Then she thought of tearing through the sucker rootlets one by one and in another minute she had released him and was dragging him away from the horror He was white with circular patches The odd job man was coming up the garden amazed at the smashing of glass and saw her emerge hauling the inanimate body with red-stained hands For a moment he thought impossible things Bring some water! She cried and her voice dispelled his fancies When with unnatural alacrity he returned with the water he found her weeping with excitement and with Wetterburn's head upon her knee wiping the blood from his face What's the matter? said Wetterburn opening his eyes feebly and closing them again at once Go and tell Annie to come out here to me and then go for Dr. Haddon at once she said to the odd job man as soon as he brought the water and added seeing he hesitated I will tell you all about it when you come back Presently Wetterburn opened his eyes again and seeing that he was troubled by the puzzle of his position she explained to him you fainted in the hot house I will see to that, she said Wetterburn had lost a good deal of blood but beyond that he had suffered no very great injury They gave him brandy mixed with some pink extracted meat and carried him upstairs to bed This housekeeper told her incredible story in fragments to Dr. Haddon Come to the Orchid House and see, she said The cold outer air was blowing in through the open door and the sickly perfume was almost dispelled Most of the torn aerial rootlets lay already withered amidst a number of dark stains upon the bricks The stem of the inflorescence was broken by the fall of the plant and the flowers were growing limp and brown at the edges of the petals The doctors stooped towards it then saw that one of the aerial rootlets still stirred feebly and hesitated The next morning the strange orchid still there there black now and putrescent The door banged intermittently in the morning breeze and all the array of Wetterburn's orchids was shriveled and prostrate But Wetterburn himself was bright and garrulous upstairs in the story of his strange adventure End of The Strange Orchid Recording by Jessen Mills Two Military Executions by Ambrose Pierce This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Read by Sean O'Hara Two Military Executions by Ambrose Pierce In the spring of the year 1862 General Buell's big army laying camp itself into shape for the campaign which resulted in the victory at Shiloh It was a raw, untrained army although some of its fractions had seen hard enough service with a good deal of fighting in the mountains of western Virginia and in Kentucky The war was young and sold during a new industry imperfectly understood by the young American of the period who found some features of it not altogether to his liking Chief among these was that essential part of discipline, subordination to one imbued from infancy with a fascinating fallacy that all men are born equal unquestioning submission to authority is not easily mastered and the American volunteer soldier in his green and salad days is among the worst known That is how it happened that one of Buell's men Private Bennett Story Green committed the indiscretion of striking an officer Later in the war he would not have done that like Surrender Aguichic he would have seen him damned first but the indiscretion of his military manners was denied him He was promptly arrested on complaint of the officer tried by court-martial and sentenced to be shot He might have thrashed me and let it go that said the condemned man to the complaining witness that is what he used to do at school when you were playing Will Dudley and I was as good as you nobody saw me strike you this one would not have suffered much Ben Green, I guess you're right about that said the lieutenant will you forgive me There was no reply at an officer putting his head in at the door of the guard tent where the conversation had occurred explained that the time allowed for the interview had expired The next morning when in the presence of the whole brigade Private Green was shot to death by a squad of his comrades Lieutenant Dudley turned his back upon the sorry performance and muttered prayer for mercy in which he himself was included A few weeks afterwards as Buell's leading division was being ferried across Tennessee River and was suffering grand speed and army night was coming on black and stormy through the wreck of battle the division moved inch by inch in the direction of the enemy who had withdrawn a little to reform its lines but for the lightning the darkness was absolute never for a moment did it cease and ever when the thunder did not crack and roar were heard the moans of the wounded among whom the men felt their way with their feet and upon whom they stumbled in the gloom the dead were there too there were dead aplenty in the first spank gray of the morning when the swarming advance had paused to resume something of definition as a line of battle and skirmishers had been thrown forward word was passed along to call the roll the first sergeant of Lieutenant Dudley's company stepped to the front and began to name the men in alphabetical order he had no written roll but a good memory the men answered to their names as he ran down the alphabet to G Gorham here Grayrock here the response was clear distinct unmistakable a sudden movement an agitation of the entire company front as from an electric shock attested the startling character of the incident the sergeant paled and paused the captain strode quickly to his side and said sharply call that name again apparently the society for physical research is not the first in the field of curiosity concerning the unknown Bennett Green here all faces turned in the direction of the familiar voice the two men between whom in the order of stature green and commonly stood in line turned and squarely confronted each other once more commanded the inexorable investigator and once more came a trifle tremulously the name of the dead man Bennett Story Green here at that instant a single rifle shot was heard away to the front beyond the skirmish line followed almost tended a savage hiss of an approaching bullet which passing through the line struck audibly punctuating as with a full stop the captain's exclamation what the devil does it mean Lieutenant deadly pushed through the ranks from his place in the rear it means this he said throwing up his coat and displaying a visibly broadening stain of crimson on his breast his knees gave way he fell awkwardly and lay down a little later the regiment was ordered out of line to relieve the congested front and through some misplay in the game battles not again under fire nor did Bennett Green expert in military executions ever again signifies presence at one end of two military executions The Valley of the Beast by Algernon Blackwood this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Mooseboy Alfonso The Valley of the Beast by Algernon Blackwood one as they emerged suddenly from the dense forest the Indian halted and Grimwood his employer stood beside him gazing into the beautiful wooded valley that lay spread below them in the blaze on sunset both men leaned upon their rifles caught by the enchantment of the unexpected scene we come here said to Shelley abruptly after a careful survey tomorrow we make a plan he spoke excellent English the note of decision almost of authority in his voice was noticeable but Grimwood set it down to the natural excitement of the moment every track they had followed during the last two days but one track in particular as well had headed straight for this remote and hidden valley and the sport promised to be unusual that's so he replied in the tone of one giving an order you can make camp ready at once and he sat down on a fallen hemlock to take off his moccasin boots and grease his feet that ached from the arduous day now growing to a close though under ordinary circumstances he would have pushed on for another hour or two he was not averse to a night here for exhaustion had come upon him the last bit of rough going his eye and muscles were no longer steady and it was doubtful if he could have shot straight enough to kill he did not mean to miss a second time with his Canadian friend Eyredale the latter's half-read and his own Indian to Shelley the party had set out three weeks ago to find the wonderful big moose the Indians reported were traveling in the snow river country they soon found that the tale was true tracks were abundant they saw fine animals nearly every day but though carrying good heads the hunters expected better still and left them alone pushing up the river to a small chain of lakes near its source they then separated into two parties each with its nine-foot bark canoe and packed in for three days after the yet bigger animals the Indians agreed would be found in the deeper woods beyond excitement was keen expectation keener still the day before they separated Eyredale shot the biggest moose of his life and its head bigger even than the grand Alaskan heads hangs in his house today Grimwood's hunting blood was fairly up his blood was of the fiery not to say ferocious quality it almost seemed he liked killing for its own sake four days after the party broken to two he came upon a gigantic track whose measurements and length of stride keyed every nerve he possessed attention to shall he examine the tracks for some minutes with care it is the biggest moose in the world he said at length a new expression on his inscrutable red visage following it all that day they yet got no sight of the big fellow that seemed to be frequenting a little marshy dip of country too small to be called valley were willow and undergrowth abounded he had not yet sended his pursuers they were after him again at dawn to war the evening of the second day Grimwood caught a sudden glimpse of the monster among a thick clump of willows and the sight of the magnificent head that easily beat all records set his heart beating like a hammer with excitement he aimed and fired but the moose instead of crashing went thundering away through the farther scrub and disappeared the sound of his plunging canter presently dying away Grimwood had missed even if he had wounded they camped and all next day leaving the canoe behind they followed the huge track but though finding signs of blood these were not plentiful and the shot had evidently only grazed the animal the traveling was of the hardest toward evening, utterly exhausted the spore led them to the ridge they now stood upon gazing down into the enchanting valley that opened at their feet the giant moose had gone down into this valley they would consider himself safe there Grimwood agreed with the Indians judgment they would camp for the night and continue at dawn the wild hunt after the biggest moose in the world supper was over the small fire used for cooking dying down when Grimwood became first aware that the Indian was not behaving quite as usual what particular detail drew his attention is hard to say he was a slow witted heavy man full exhausted, unobservant a fact had to hurt him through his comfort through his pleasure before he noticed it yet anyone else must have observed the changed mood of the red skin long ago Tushali had made the fire fried the bacon, served the tea and was arranging the blankets his own and its employers before the latter remarked upon his silence Tushali had not uttered a word for over an hour and a half eyes upon the new valley to be exact and his employer now noticed the unaccustomed silence because after food he liked to listen to wood talk and hunting lore Tired out aren't you said big Grimwood looking into the dark face across the firelight he resented the absence of conversation now that he noticed it he was over weary himself he felt more irritable than usual though his temper was always vile Lost your tongue eh howl as the Indian returned his stare with solemn expressionless face that dark inscrutable look on his nerves a bit speak up man he exclaimed sharply what's it all about the Englishman had at last realized that there was something to speak up about the discovery in his present state annoyed him further Tushali stared gravely but made no reply the silence was prolonged almost into minutes the head turned sideways as though the man listened the other watched him very closely anger growing in him but it was the way the red skin turned his head keeping his body rigid that gave the jerk to Grimwood's nerves providing him with a sensation he had never known in his life before it gave him what is generally called the goose flesh it seemed to jangle his entire system yet at the same time made him cautious he did not like it this combination of emotions puzzled him say something I tell you he repeated in a harsher tone raising his voice he sat up drawing his great body closer to the fire say something dammit his voice fell dead against the surrounding trees making the silence of the forest unpleasantly noticeable very still the great woods stood about them there was no wind no stir of branches only the crackle of a snapping twig was audible from time to time as the nightlife moved unwarily sometimes watching the humans round their little fire the October air had a frosty touch that nipped the red skin did not answer no muscle of his neck nor of his stiffen body moved he seemed all ears well repeated the Englishman lowering his voice this time instinctively what do you hear goddammit the touch of odd nervousness that made his anger grow betrayed itself in his language too shall he slowly turned his head back again to its normal position the body rigid as before I hear nothing Mr. Grimwood he said gazing with quiet dignity into its employer's eyes this was too much for the other a man of savage temper at the best of times he was the type of Englishman who held strong views as to the right way of treating inferior races that's a lie to shall he and I won't have you lie to me now what was it tell me at once I hear nothing repeated the other I only think and what is it y'all pleased to think impatience made a nasty expression round the mouth I go not was the abrupt reply an alterable decision in the voice the man's rejoinder was so unexpected that Grimwood found nothing to say at first for a moment he did not take its meaning his mind always slow was confused by impatience also by what he considered the foolishness of the little scene then in a flash he understood but he also understood the immovable obstinacy of the race he had to deal with too shall he was informing him that he refused to go into the valley where the big moose had vanished and his astonishment was so great at first that he merely sat and stared no words came to him it is said the indian but used a native term what's that mean Grimwood found his tongue but his quiet tone was ominous Mr Grimwood it means the valley of the beast was the reply in a tone quieter still the Englishman made a great a genuine effort in self control he was dealing he forced himself to remember with a superstitious red skin he knew the stubbornness of the type if the man left him his sport was irretrievably spoiled for he could not hunt in this wilderness alone and even if he got the coveted head he could never never get it out alone his native selfishness seconded his effort persuasion if only he could keep back his rising anger was his role to play the valley of the beast he said a smile on his lips rather than in his darkening eyes but that's just what we want its beast were after isn't it his voice had a false cheery ring that could not have deceived a child but what do you mean anyhow the valley of the beast he asked it with a dull attempt at sympathy it belonged to Ishtart Mr. Grimwood the man looked him full in the face no flinching in the eyes moi our big moose is there said the other who recognized the name of the Indian hunting god and understanding better felt confident he would soon persuade his man to shali he remembered too was nominally a Christian will you follow him at dawn and get the biggest head the world has ever seen you will be famous he added his temper better and in the hand again your tribe will honor you and the white hunters will pay you much money he go there to save himself I go not the others anger revived with a leap at the stupid obstinacy but in spite of it he noticed the odd choice of words he began to realize nothing now would move the man at the same time he also realized that violence on his part must prove worse than useless yet violence was natural to his dominant type that brute Grimwood was the way most men spoke of him back at the settlement you're a Christian remember he tried in his clumsy way another line and disobedience means hellfire you know that I a Christian at the post was the reply but out here the red God rule is taught keep that valley for himself no Indian hunt there it was as though a granite boulder spoke the savage temper of the Englishman enforced by the long difficult suppression rose wickedly into sudden flame he stood up kicking his blankets aside he strode across the dying fire to the Indian side Tushali also rose they faced each other two humans alone in the wilderness watched by countless invisible forest eyes Tushali stood motionless yet as though he expected violence from the foolish ignorant white face you go alone Mr. Grimwood there was no fear in him Grimwood choked with rage his words came forth with difficulty though he roared them into the silence of the forest I pay you don't I you do what I say not what you say his voice woke the echoes the Indian arms hanging by his side gave the old reply I go not he repeated firmly it stung the other into uncontrollable fury the beast then came uppermost it came out you said that once too often Tushali and he struck him brutally in the face the Indian fell rose to his knees again collapsed sideways beside the fire then struggled back into a sitting position he never once took his eyes from the white man's face beside himself with anger Grimwood stood over him is that enough will you obey me now he shouted I go not came the thick reply blood streaming from his mouth rushing in them that valley ish taught keep ish taught see us now he see you the last words he uttered was strange almost uncanny emphasis Grimwood arm raised fist clenched about to repeat his terrible assault pause suddenly his arm sank to his side what exactly stopped him he could never say for one thing he feared his own anger but if he let himself go he would not stop till he had killed committed murder he knew his own fearful temper and stood afraid of it yet it was not only that the calm furnace of the red skin his courage under pain and something in the fixed and burning eyes arrested him was it also something in the words he had used ish taught see you that stung him into a queer caution midway in his violence he could not say he only knew that a momentary sense of awe came over him he became unpleasantly aware of the enveloping forest so still listening in a kind of impenetrable remorseless silence this lonely wilderness looking silently upon what might easily prove murder laid a faint inexplicable chill upon his raging blood the hand dropped slowly to his side again the fist unclenched itself his breath came more evenly look you here he said adopting without knowing at the local way of speech I ain't a bad man though you're going on do make a man damn tired I'll give you another chance his voice was sullen but a new note in it surprised even himself I'll do that you can have the night to think it over to Charlie see talk it over with you he did not finish the sentence somehow the name of the red skin god refused to pass his lips he turned away flung himself into his blankets and in less than ten minutes exhausted as much by his anger as by the days hard going he was sound asleep the Indian crouching beside the dying fire had said nothing night held the woods the sky was thick with stars the darkness quietly with that wondrous skill which millions of years had perfected the red skin so close to the skill that he instinctively used and borrowed from it was silent, alert, and wise his outline is inconspicuous as though he merged like his four footed teachers into the mass of the surrounding bush he moved perhaps yet nothing new he moved his wisdom derived from that eternal ancient mother from infinite experience makes no mistakes did not fail him his soft tread made no sound his breathing as his weight was calculated the stars observed him but they did not tell the light air knew his whereabouts yet without betrayal the chill dawn gleamed at length between the trees lighting the pale ashes of an extinguished fire also of a bulky, obvious form beneath a blanket the form moved clumsily the cold was penetrated and that bulky form moved because a dream had come to trouble it a dark figure stole across its confused field of vision the form started but it did not wake the figure spoke take this it whispered handing a little stick curiously carved it is the totem of great Ishtad in the valley all memory of the white gods will leave you call upon Ishtad call upon him if you dare and the dark figure glided away out of the dream and out of all remembrance two the first thing Grim would notice when he woke was that Tushali was not there no fire burn, no tea was ready he felt exceedingly annoyed he glared about him then got up with a curse to make the fire his mind seemed confused and troubled at first he only realized one thing clearly his guide had left him in the night was very cold he lit the wood with difficulty and made his tea and the actual world came gradually back to him the red Indian had gone perhaps the blow perhaps the superstitious terror perhaps both had driven him away he was alone that was the outstanding fact for anything beyond outstanding facts Grim would felt little interest imaginative speculation was beyond his compass close to the brute creation it seemed his nature lay it was while packing his blankets he did it automatically a dull vicious resentment in him that his finger struck a bit of wood that he was about to throw away when its unusual shape caught his attention suddenly his odd dream came back then but was it a dream the bit of wood was undoubtedly a totem stick he examined it he paid it more attention than he meant to wished to, following with red skin faithfulness, stum coat of his own had left him the means of safety he chuckled sourly but thrust the stick inside his belt what never knows he mumbled to himself he faced the situation squarely he was alone in the wilderness his capable, experienced woodsman had deserted him the situation was serious what should he do a weakling would certainly retrace his steps following the track they had made afraid to be left alone in this vast hinterland of pathless forest but Grimwood was of another build alarmed he might be but he would not give in he had the defects of his own qualities the brutality of his nature argued force he was determined and a sportsman he would go on and ten minutes after breakfast having first made a cache of what provisions were left over he was on his way down across the ridge and into the mysterious valley the valley of the beast it looked in the morning sunlight entrancing the trees closed in behind him but he did not notice it led him on he followed the track of the gigantic he meant to kill and the sweet delicious sunshine helped him the air was like wine the seductive spore of the great beast with here and there a faint splash of blood on leaves or ground lay forever just before his eyes he found the valley though the actual word did not occur to him enticing more and more he noticed the beauty the desolate grandeur of the mighty spruce and hemlock the splendor of the granite bluffs which in places rose above the forest and caught the sun the valley was deeper vaster than he had imagined he felt safe at home in it though again the actual terms did not occur to him here he could hide forever and find peace he became aware of a new quality in the deep loneliness the scenery for the first time in his life appealed to him in the form of appeal he was curious he felt the comfort of it for a man of his habit this was odd yet the new sensation stole over him so gently their approach so gradual that they were first recognized by his consciousness indirectly they had already established themselves in him before he noticed them and the indirectness took his this form that the passion of the chase gave place to an interest in the valley itself the lust of the hunt the fierce desire to find and kill the keen wish in a word to see his quarry within range to aim to fire to witness the natural consummation of the long expedition these had all become measurably less while the effect of the valley upon him had increased in strength there was a welcome about it that he did not understand the change was singular yet oddly enough he referred to him as singular it was unnatural yet it did not strike him so to a dull mind at his unobservant unanalytical type a change had to be marked and dramatic before he noticed it something in the nature of a shock must accompany it for him to recognize it had happened and there had been no shock the spore of the great moose was much clearer now that he caught up with the animal that it made it he had noticed the spot where it had rested it's huge body leaving a marked imprint on the soft ground where it had reached up to eat the leaves of saplings here and there was also visible he had come undoubtedly very near to it and any minute now might see it's great bulk within range of an easy shot yet his ardor had somehow lessened he first realized this change in himself when it suddenly occurred to him that the animal itself was less cautious it must send him easily now since a moose, its sight being indifferent depends chiefly for its safety upon its unusually keen sense of smell and the wind came from behind him this now struck him as decidedly uncommon the moose itself was obviously careless of his close approach it felt no fear it was this inexplicable alteration in the animal's behavior that made him recognize at last the alteration in his own he had followed it now for a couple of hours and had descended some 800 to a thousand feet the trees were thinner and more sparsely placed there were open park-like places where silver birch, summits, and maple splashed their blazing colors and a crystal stream broken by many waterfalls foam passed toward the bed of the great valley yet another thousand feet below the pool against some overarching rocks the moose had evidently paused to drink paused at its leisure moreover Grimwood, rising from a close examination of the direction the creature had taken after drinking the hoof marks were fresh and very distinct in the marshy ground about the pool looked suddenly straight into the great creature's eyes it was not 20 yards from where he stood yet he had been standing on that spot for at least 10 minutes in the wonder and loneliness of the scene the moose therefore had been close beside him all this time it had been calmly drinking undisturbed by his presence unafraid the shock came now the shock that woke his heavy nature into realization for some seconds probably for minutes he stood rooted to the ground motionless, hardly breathing he stared as though he saw a vision the animal's head was lowered somewhat so that the eyes placed sideways in its great head could see him properly its immense proboscis hung as though stuffed upon an English wall he saw the forefeet planted wide apart the slope of the enormous shoulders dropping back toward the fine hindquarters in lean flanks it was a magnificent bull the horns in head justified his wildest expectations they were superb a record specimen and a phrase where had he heard it? ran vaguely as from far distance through his mind the biggest moose in the world though as the extraordinary fact however that he did not shoot nor feel the urge to shoot the familiar instinct so strongly hitherto in his blood made no sign the desire to kill apparently had left him to raise his rifle aim and fire had become suddenly a possibility he did not move the animal and the human stared into each other's eyes for a length of time whose interval he could not measure then came a soft noise close behind him the rifle had slipped from his grasp and fallen with a thud into the mossy earth at his feet and the moose for the first time now was moving with slow easy stride its great weight causing a squelching sound his feet drew out of the moose's ground it came towards him the bulk of the shoulders giving it an appearance of swaying like a ship at sea it reached his side it almost touched him the magnificent head bent low the spread of the gigantic horns lay beneath his very eyes he could have padded it stroked it he saw with a touch of pity that blood trickled from a sore in its left shoulder with thick hair it sniffed the fallen rifle then lifting its head and shoulders again it sniffed the air this time with an audible sound that shook from Grimwood's mind the last possibility that he witnessed a vision or dreamed a dream one moment it gazed into his face its big brown eyes shining and unafraid then turned abruptly and swung away at a speed ever rapidly increasing dark like spaces till it was lost finally in the dark tangle of undergrowth beyond and the Englishman's muscles turned to paper his paralysis passed his legs refused to support his weight and he sank heavily to the ground three it seems he slept slept long and heavily he sat up stretched himself yawned and rubbed his eyes the sun had moved across the sky he saw now ran from west to east and there were long shadows he had slept evidently for hours and evening was drawing in he was aware that he felt hungry in his pouch like pockets he had dried meat, sugar matches, tea, and the little billy that never left him he would make a fire boil some tea and eat but he took no steps to carry out his purpose he felt disinclined to move he sat thinking what was he thinking about he did not know he could not say exactly it was more like fugitive pictures that passed across his mind who and where was he this was the valley of the beast that he knew he felt sure of nothing else how long had he been here and where had he come from and why the questions did not linger for their answers almost as though his interest in them was merely automatic he felt happy peaceful, unafraid he looked about him and the spell of this virgin forest came upon him like a charm only the sound of falling water the murmur of wind sighing among innumerable branches broke the enveloping silence overhead beyond the crests of the towering trees a cloudless evening sky was piling into transparent orange, opal mother of pearl he saw buzzards soaring lazily a scarlet tannager flash by soon would the owls begin to call and the darkness fall like a sweet black veil and hide all detail while the stars sparkled in their countless thousands a glint of something that shone upon the ground caught his eye a smooth polished strip of rounded metal his rifle and he started to his feet impulsively yet not knowing exactly what he meant to do at the sight of the weapon something had leaped to life in him then faded out, died down and was gone again I'm... I'm... he began muttering to himself but could not finish what he was about to say his name had disappeared completely I'm in the valley of the beast he repeated in place of what he sought but could not find this fact that he was in the valley of the beast the only positive island of knowledge that he had about the name something known and familiar clung though the sequence that had led up to it he could not trace presently, nevertheless, he rose to his feet, advanced a few steps stooped and picked up the shining metal thing, his rifle he examined in a moment a feeling of dread and loathing rising in him a sensation of almost horror that made him tremble then the explosive movement that betrayed an intense reaction of some sort he could not comprehend he flung the thing far from him into the foaming torrent he saw the splash it made he also saw that same instant a large grizzly bear swing heavily along the bank not a dozen yards from where he stood it too heard the splash for it started ruined, paused a second then changed its direction and came toward him it came up close its fur brushed his body it examined him leisurely as the moose had done sniffed, half rose upon its terrible hind legs, opened its mouth so that red tongue and gleaming teeth were plainly visible then flopped back upon all fours again with a deep growl that yet had no anger in it and swung off at a quick trot back to the bank of the torrent he had felt its hot breath upon his face but he had felt no fear the monster was puzzled but not hostile it disappeared they know not he sought for the word man but could not find it they have never been hunted the words ran through his mind if perhaps he was not entirely certain of their meaning they rose as it were automatically a familiar sound lay in them somewhere at the same time there rose feelings in him that were equally though in another way familiar and quite natural feelings he had once known intimately but long since laid aside what were they what was their origin they seemed distant as to stars yet were actually in his body in his blood and nerves part and parcel of his flesh long long ago oh how long thinking was difficult feeling was what he most easily and naturally managed he could not think for long feeling rose up and drowned the effort quickly that huge and awful bear not a nerve not a muscle quivered in him as its acrid smell rose to his nostrils its fur brushed down his legs yet he was aware that somewhere there was danger though not here somewhere there was attack wicked and calculated plans against him as against that splendid roaming animal that had sniffed examined then gone its own way satisfied yes active attack hostility and careful cruel plans against his safety but not here here he was safe secure a peace here he was happy here he could roam at will no eye cast sideways into forest depths no ear pricked high to catch sounds not explained no nostrils quivering to sent alarm he felt this but he did not think it he felt hungry thirsty too something prompted him now at last to act his billy lay at his feet and he picked it up the matches he carried them in a metal case who screw top kept out all moisture were in his hand gathering a few dry twigs stoop to light them then suddenly drew back with the first touch of fear he had yet known fire what was fire the idea was repugnant to him it was impossible he was afraid of fire he flung the metal case after the rifle and saw it gleam in the last rays of sunset then sink with a little splash beneath the water glancing down at his billy he realized next that he could not make use of it either nor of the dark dry dusty stuff he had meant to boil in water he felt no repugnance certainly no fear in connection with these things only he could not handle them he did not need them he had forgotten yes, forgotten what they meant exactly this strange forgiveness was increasing in him rapidly becoming more and more complete with every minute yet his thirst must be quenched the next moment he found himself on the water's edge he stooped to fill his billy paused, hesitated examined the rushing water then abruptly moved a few feet higher up the stream leaving the metal can behind him his handling of it had been oddly clumsy his gestures awkward even unnatural he now flung himself down with an easy simple motion of his entire body lowered his face to a quiet pool he had found and drank his fill of the cool liquid but though unaware of the fact he did not drink he lapped then, crouching where he was he ate the meat and sugar from his pockets lapped more water moved back a short distance again into the dry ground beneath the trees but moved this time without rising to his feet curled his body into a comfortable position and closed his eyes again to sleep no single question now raised satisfaction only he stirred shook himself open half an eye and saw as he had felt already in slumber that he was not alone in the park like spaces in front of him as in the shadowed fringe of the trees at his back there was sound in movement the sound of stealthy feet the movement of innumerable dark bodies there was the pad and tread of animals the stir of backs of smooth and shaggy beasts in countless numbers upon this host fell the light of a half moon sailing high in a cloudless sky the gleam of stars sparkling in the clear night air like diamonds shown reflected in hundreds of ever-shifting eyes most of them but a few feet above the ground the whole valley was alive he sat upon his haunches staring staring but staring in wonder not in fear though the foremost of the great host were so near that he could have stretched an arm and touched them it was an ever-moving, ever-shifting throng he gazed at, spellbound in the pale light of moon and stars now fading slowly towards the approaching dawn and the smell of the forest itself was not sweeter to him in that moment than the mingle perfume raw, pungent, acrid of this furry host beautiful wild animals that moved like a sea with a strange murmuring too, like sea as the myriad feet and bodies passed to and fro together nor was the gleam of the starry phosphorescent eyes less pleasantly friendly than those happy lamps that light home-loss wonderers to cozy rooms and safety through the wild army in a word poured to him the deep comfort of the entire valley a comfort which held both the sweetness of invitation and the welcome of some magical homecoming no thoughts came to him but feeling rose in a tide of wonder and acceptance he was in his rightful place his nature had come home there was this dim vague consciousness in him that after long futile straying in another place where uncongenial conditions had forced him to be unnatural and therefore terrible he was at last where he belonged here in the valley of the beast he had found peace security and happiness he would be he was at last himself it was a marvelous even a magical scene he watched his nerves at highest tension yet quite steady his senses exquisitely alert yet no uneasiness in the full accurate reports they furnished strong as some deep flood tide yet dim as with untold time and distance rose over him the spell of long forgotten memory of a state where he was content and happy where he was natural the outlines as it were of mighty primitive pictures flashed before him yet were gone again before the detail was filled in he was the great army of the animals they were all about him now he crouched upon his haunches in the center moving circle of wild forest life great timber wolves he saw pass to and throw loping past him with long stride and graceful swing their red tongues lolling out they swarmed in hundreds behind yet mingling freely with them rolled the huge grizzlies not clumsy as their uncouth bodies promise but swiftly lightly easily their half tumbling gate masking agility and speed they gambled sometimes they rose and stood half upright they were comely in their mass and power they rolled past him so close that he could touch them and the black bear and the brown went with them bears beyond counting monsters and little ones a splendid multitude beyond them yet only a little further back where the park like spaces made free movement easier rose a sea of horns and antlers like a miniature forest in the the immense tribe of deer gathered in vast throngs beneath the starlit sky moose and caribou he saw the mighty wapiti and the smaller deer in their crowding thousands he heard the sound of meeting horns the tread of innumerable hoofs the occasional pawing of the ground as the bigger creatures maneuvered for more space about them a wolf he saw was looking gently at the shoulder of a great bull moose that had been injured advanced again once more receded rising and falling like a living sea whose waves were animal shapes the inhabitants of the valley of the beast beneath the quiet moonlight they swayed to and fro before him they watched him knew him, recognized him they made him welcome he was aware more over of a world of smaller life that formed an undersea as it were numerous undercurrents rather running in and out between the great upright legs of the larger creatures these though he could not see them clearly covered the earth he was aware in enormous numbers darting hither and tither now hiding now reappearing too intent upon their busy purposes to pay him attention like their huge comrades yet ever none tumbling against his back canoning from his sides scampering across his legs even then gone again with a scuttering sound little feet and rushing back into the general host beyond and with this smaller world also he felt at home how long he sat gazing happy and himself secure satisfied contented natural he could not say but it was long enough for the desire to mingle with what he saw to no closer contact to become one with them all long enough for this deep blind desire to assert itself so that at length he began to move from his mossy seat towards them to move moreover as they moved and not upright on two feet the moon was lowered now just sinking behind a towering cedar whose ragged crest broke its light into silvery spray the stars were a little paler too a line of faint red was visible beyond the heights at the valley's eastern end he paused and looked about him as he advanced slowly aware that the host already made an opening in their ranks and that the bear even knows the earth in front as though to show the way that was easiest to follow then suddenly a lynx leaped past him into the low branches of a hemlock and he lifted his head to admire its perfect poise he saw in the same instant the arrival of the birds the army of the eagles hawks and buzzards of prey the awakening flight that just precedes the dawn he saw the flock in streaming lines hiding the whitening stars a moment as they passed with a prodigious whir of wings there came the hooting of an owl from the tree immediately overhead where the lynx now crouched but not maliciously along its branch he started he half rose to an upright position he knew not why he did so not exactly why he started but in the attempt to find his new and it now seemed his unaccustomed balance one hand fell against his side and came in contact with a hard straight thing that projected awkwardly from his clothing he pulled it out feeling it all over with his fingers it was a little stick he raised it nearer to his eyes examined it in the light of dawn now growing swiftly more half remembered what it was and stood stock still the totem stick he mumbled to himself yet audibly finding his speech and finding another thing a glint of peering memory for the first time since entering the valley a shock of fire ran through his body he straightened himself aware that a moment before he had been crawling upon his hands and knees it seemed that something broke his brain lifting a veil flinging a shutter-free and memory peered dreadfully through the widening gap I'm I'm Grimwood his voice uttered though below his breath too shall he's left me I'm alone he was aware of a sudden change in the animals surrounding him a big grey wolf sat three feet away glaring into his face at its side an enormous wolf laid itself from one foot to the other behind it as if looking over its shoulder loomed a giant wapiti its horns merged in the shadows of the drooping cedar boughs but the northern dawn was nearer the sun already close to the horizon he saw details with sharp distinctness now the great bear rose balancing a moment on its massive hind quarters then took a step towards him its front paws spread like arms its wicked head lulled horribly as a huge bull moose lowering its horns as if about to charge came up with a couple of long strides and joined it a sudden excitement ran quivering over the entire host the distant ranks moved in a new unpleasant way a thousand heads were lifted ears were pricked a forest of ugly muzzles pointed up to the wind and the Englishman beside himself suddenly with a sense of ultimate terror that saw no possible escape stiffened and stood rigid the horror of his position petrified him motionless and silent he faced the awful army of his enemies while the white light of breaking day added fresh gasliness to the scene which was the setting for his cruel death in the valley of the beast above him crouched the hideous links ready to spring the instant he caught safety in the tree above it again he was aware of a thousand talons of steel fierce hooked beaks of iron and the angry beating of prodigious wings he reeled for the grizzly touched his body with its outstretched paw the wolf crouched just before its deadly spring in another second he would have been torn to pieces crushed devoured when terror operating naturally as ever released the muscles of his throat and tongue he shouted with what he believed was his last breath on earth he called aloud in his frenzy it was a prayer to whatever gods there be it was an anguished cry for help to heaven is taught great is taught help me his voice rang out while his hand still clutched the forgotten totem stick and the red heaven heard him Grimwood that same instant was aware of a presence that but for his terror of the beast must have frightened him into sheer unconsciousness a gigantic red indian stood before him yet while the figure rose close in front of him causing the birds to settle and the wild animals to crouch quietly where they stood it rose also from a great distance for it seemed to fill the entire valley with its influence its power its amazing majesty in some way moreover that he could not understand this appearance included the actual valley itself with all its trees its running streams its open spaces and its rocky bluffs these marked its outline as it were the outline of a superhuman shape there was a mighty bow there was a quiver of enormous arrows there was this red skin figure to whom they belonged yet the appearance the outline the face and figure too these were the valley that became audible it was the valley itself that uttered the appalling words it was the voice of trees and wind and of running falling water that woke the echoes in the valley of the beast as in that same moment the sun topped the ridge and filled the scene the outline of the majestic figure too with a flood of dazzling light you have shed blood in this my valley I will not save the figure melted away into the sunlit forest merging with the newborn day but Grimwood saw close against his face the shining teeth hot-fetted breath passed over his cheeks a power enveloped his whole body as though a mountain crushed him he closed his eyes he fell a sharp crackling sound passed through his brain but already unconscious he did not hear it his eyes opened again and the first thing they took in was fire he shrank back instinctively it's all right old man we'll bring you round nothing to be frightened about he saw the face of Iordell looking down into his own behind Iordell stood to Charlie his face was swollen Grimwood remembered the blow the big man began to cry painful still is it Irondale said sympathetically here swallow a little more of this it'll set you right in no time Grimwood gulped down the spirit he made a violent effort to control himself but was unable to keep the tears back he felt no pain it was his heart that ached though why or wherefor he had no idea I'm all the pieces he mumbled a shame yet somehow not ashamed my nerves are rotten what's happened there was as yet no memory in him you've been hugged by a bear old man but no bronze broken he gave you he fired in the nick of time a brave shot for he might easily have hit you instead of the brute the other brute whispered Grimwood as the whiskey worked in him and memory came slowly back where are we he asked presently looking about him he saw a lake canoes drawn up on the shore two tents and figures moving Iordell explained matters briefly then left him to sleep a bit it appeared traveling without rest had reached Iordell's camping ground 24 hours after leaving his employer he found it deserted Iordell and his Indian being on the hunt when they returned at nightfall he had explained his presence in his brief native fashion he struck me and I quit he hunt now alone in Ishtar's valley of the beast he is dead I think I come to tell you Iordell and his guide Tushalia's leader started off then and there but Grimwood had covered a considerable distance though leaving an easy track to follow it was the moose tracks and the blood that chiefly guided them they came up with him suddenly enough in the grip of an enormous bear it was Tushalia that fired the Indian lives now in easy circumstances all his needs care for while Grimwood, his benefactor but no longer his employer had enough hunting he is a quiet, easy tempered almost gentle sort of fellow and people wonder rather why he hasn't married just a fellow to make a good father is what they say so kind, good natured and affectionate among his pipes in a glass case over the mantelpiece hangs a totem stick he declares it saved his soul but what he means by the expression he has never quite explained the Valley of the Beast by Algernon Blackwood