the
entrance to the vast, underground Pit. Here, there was a continuous
bubbling; and, occasionally, a curious sort of sobbing gurgle would find
its way up from the depth. Beyond these, there was nothing to tell of
the things that were hidden beneath. As I stood there, it came to me
how wonderfully things had worked out. The entrance to the place whence
the Swine-creatures had come, was sealed up, by a power that made me
feel there was nothing more to fear from them. And yet, with the
feeling, there was a sensation that, now, I should never learn anything
further, of the place from which those dreadful Things had come. It was
completely shut off and concealed from human curiosity forever.
Strange—in the knowledge of that underground hell-hole—how apposite
has been the naming of the Pit. One wonders how it originated, and when.
Naturally, one concludes that the shape and depth of the ravine would
suggest the name 'Pit.' Yet, is it not possible that it has, all along,
held a deeper significance, a hint—could one but have guessed—of the
greater, more stupendous Pit that lies far down in the earth, beneath
this old house? Under this house! Even now, the idea is strange and
terrible to me. For I have proved, beyond doubt, that the Pit yawns
right below the house, which is evidently supported, somewhere above the
center of it, upon a tremendous, arched roof, of solid rock.
It happened in this wise, that, having occasion to go down to the
cellars, the thought occurred to me to pay a visit to the great vault,
where the trap is situated; and see whether everything was as I had
left it.
Reaching the place, I walked slowly up the center, until I came to the
trap. There it was, with the stones piled upon it, just as I had seen it
last. I had a lantern with me, and the idea came to me, that now would
be a good time to investigate whatever lay under the great, oak slab.
Placing the lantern on the floor, I tumbled the stones off the trap,
and, grasping the ring, pulled the door open. As I did so, the cellar
became filled with the sound of a murmurous thunder, that rose from far
below. At the same time, a damp wind blew up into my face, bringing
with it a load of fine spray. Therewith, I dropped the trap, hurriedly,
with a half frightened feeling of wonder.
For a moment, I stood puzzled. I was not particularly afraid. The
haunting fear of the Swine-things had left me, long ago; but I was
certainly nervous and astonished. Then, a sudden thought possessed me,
and I raised the ponderous door, with a feeling of excitement. Leaving
it standing upon its end, I seized the lantern, and, kneeling down,
thrust it into the opening. As I did so, the moist wind and spray drove
in my eyes, making me unable to see, for a few moments. Even when my
eyes were clear, I could distinguish nothing below me, save darkness,
and whirling spray.
Seeing that it was useless to expect to make out anything, with the
light so high, I felt in my pockets for a piece of twine, with which to
lower it further into the opening. Even as I fumbled, the lantern
slipped from my fingers, and hurtled down into the darkness. For a brief
instant, I watched its fall, and saw the light shine on a tumult of
white foam, some eighty or a hundred feet below me. Then it was gone. My
sudden surmise was correct, and now, I knew the cause of the wet and
noise. The great cellar was connected with the Pit, by means of the
trap, which opened right above it; and the moisture, was the spray,
rising from the water, falling into the depths.
In an instant, I had an explanation of certain things, that had
hitherto puzzled me. Now, I could understand why the noises—on the
first night of the invasion—had seemed to rise directly from under my
feet. And the chuckle that had sounded when first I opened the trap!
Evidently, some of the Swine-things must have been right beneath me.
Another thought struck me. Were the creatures all drowned? Would they
drown? I remembered how unable I had been
entrance to the vast, underground Pit. Here, there was a continuous
bubbling; and, occasionally, a curious sort of sobbing gurgle would find
its way up from the depth. Beyond these, there was nothing to tell of
the things that were hidden beneath. As I stood there, it came to me
how wonderfully things had worked out. The entrance to the place whence
the Swine-creatures had come, was sealed up, by a power that made me
feel there was nothing more to fear from them. And yet, with the
feeling, there was a sensation that, now, I should never learn anything
further, of the place from which those dreadful Things had come. It was
completely shut off and concealed from human curiosity forever.
Strange—in the knowledge of that underground hell-hole—how apposite
has been the naming of the Pit. One wonders how it originated, and when.
Naturally, one concludes that the shape and depth of the ravine would
suggest the name 'Pit.' Yet, is it not possible that it has, all along,
held a deeper significance, a hint—could one but have guessed—of the
greater, more stupendous Pit that lies far down in the earth, beneath
this old house? Under this house! Even now, the idea is strange and
terrible to me. For I have proved, beyond doubt, that the Pit yawns
right below the house, which is evidently supported, somewhere above the
center of it, upon a tremendous, arched roof, of solid rock.
It happened in this wise, that, having occasion to go down to the
cellars, the thought occurred to me to pay a visit to the great vault,
where the trap is situated; and see whether everything was as I had
left it.
Reaching the place, I walked slowly up the center, until I came to the
trap. There it was, with the stones piled upon it, just as I had seen it
last. I had a lantern with me, and the idea came to me, that now would
be a good time to investigate whatever lay under the great, oak slab.
Placing the lantern on the floor, I tumbled the stones off the trap,
and, grasping the ring, pulled the door open. As I did so, the cellar
became filled with the sound of a murmurous thunder, that rose from far
below. At the same time, a damp wind blew up into my face, bringing
with it a load of fine spray. Therewith, I dropped the trap, hurriedly,
with a half frightened feeling of wonder.
For a moment, I stood puzzled. I was not particularly afraid. The
haunting fear of the Swine-things had left me, long ago; but I was
certainly nervous and astonished. Then, a sudden thought possessed me,
and I raised the ponderous door, with a feeling of excitement. Leaving
it standing upon its end, I seized the lantern, and, kneeling down,
thrust it into the opening. As I did so, the moist wind and spray drove
in my eyes, making me unable to see, for a few moments. Even when my
eyes were clear, I could distinguish nothing below me, save darkness,
and whirling spray.
Seeing that it was useless to expect to make out anything, with the
light so high, I felt in my pockets for a piece of twine, with which to
lower it further into the opening. Even as I fumbled, the lantern
slipped from my fingers, and hurtled down into the darkness. For a brief
instant, I watched its fall, and saw the light shine on a tumult of
white foam, some eighty or a hundred feet below me. Then it was gone. My
sudden surmise was correct, and now, I knew the cause of the wet and
noise. The great cellar was connected with the Pit, by means of the
trap, which opened right above it; and the moisture, was the spray,
rising from the water, falling into the depths.
In an instant, I had an explanation of certain things, that had
hitherto puzzled me. Now, I could understand why the noises—on the
first night of the invasion—had seemed to rise directly from under my
feet. And the chuckle that had sounded when first I opened the trap!
Evidently, some of the Swine-things must have been right beneath me.
Another thought struck me. Were the creatures all drowned? Would they
drown? I remembered how unable I had been
Similar Books
