Collected Fiction Volume 3 (1931-1936): A Variorum Edition

by H. P. Lovecraft

  For madness—centreing[645] in Gedney as the only possible surviving agent—was the explanation spontaneously adopted by everybody so far as spoken utterance was concerned; though I will not be so naive[646] as to deny that each of us may have harboured[647] wild guesses which sanity forbade him to formulate completely.[648] Sherman, Pabodie, and McTighe made an exhaustive aëroplane cruise over all the surrounding territory in the afternoon, sweeping the horizon with field-glasses[649] in quest of Gedney and of the various missing things; but nothing came to light.[650] The party reported that the titan barrier range extended endlessly to right and left alike, without any diminution in height or essential structure. On some of the peaks, though, the regular cube and rampart formations were bolder and plainer;[651] having doubly fantastic similitudes to Roerich-painted Asian hill ruins. The distribution of cryptical cave-mouths[652] on the black snow-denuded summits seemed roughly even as far as the range could be traced.

  In spite of all the prevailing horrors we were left with enough sheer scientific zeal and adventurousness to wonder about the unknown realm beyond those mysterious mountains.[653] As our guarded messages stated, we rested at midnight after our day of terror and bafflement;[654] but not without a tentative plan for one or more range-crossing altitude flights in a lightened plane with aërial camera and geologist’s outfit, beginning the following morning.[655] It was decided that Danforth and I try it first, and we awaked at 7 a.m.[656] intending an early trip; though[657] heavy winds—mentioned in our brief bulletin to the outside world—delayed our start till nearly nine[658] o’clock.

  I have already repeated the non-committal[659] story we told the men at camp—and relayed outside—after our return sixteen hours later. It is now my terrible duty to amplify this account by filling in the merciful blanks with hints of what we really saw in that[660] hidden trans-montane[661] world—hints of the revelations which have finally driven Danforth to a nervous collapse.[662] I wish he would add a really frank word about the thing which he thinks he alone saw—even though it was probably a nervous delusion—and which was perhaps the last straw that put him where he is; but he is firm against that. All I can do is to repeat his later disjointed whispers about what set him shrieking as the plane soared back through the wind-tortured mountain pass after that real and tangible shock which I shared.[663] This will form my last word. If the plain signs of surviving elder horrors in what I disclose be not enough to keep others from meddling with the inner antarctic—or at least from prying too deeply beneath the surface of that ultimate waste of forbidden secrets and unhuman,[664] aeon-cursed desolation—the responsibility for unnamable and perhaps immensurable[665] evils will not be mine.

  Danforth and I, studying the notes made by Pabodie in his afternoon flight and checking up with a sextant, had calculated that the lowest available pass in the range lay somewhat to the right of us, within sight of camp, and about 23,000 or 24,000[666] feet above sea-level.[667] For this point, then, we first headed in the lightened plane as we embarked on our flight of discovery. The camp itself, on foothills which sprang from a high continental plateau, was some 12,000[668] feet in altitude; hence the actual height increase necessary was not so vast as it might seem. Nevertheless we were acutely conscious of the rarefied air and intense cold as we rose; for on account of visibility conditions[669] we had to leave the cabin windows open. We were dressed, of course, in our heaviest furs.

  As we drew near the forbidding peaks, dark and sinister above the line of crevasse-riven snow and interstitial glaciers, we noticed more and more the curiously regular formations clinging to the slopes; and thought again of the strange Asian paintings of Nicholas Roerich.[670] The ancient and wind-weathered rock strata fully verified all of Lake’s bulletins, and proved that these hoary[671] pinnacles had been towering up in exactly the same way since a surprisingly early time in earth’s history—perhaps over fifty million years. How much higher they had once been, it was futile to guess; but everything about this strange region pointed to obscure atmospheric influences unfavourable[672] to change, and calculated to retard the usual climatic processes of rock disintegration.

  But it was the mountainside tangle of regular cubes, ramparts, and cave-mouths[673] which fascinated and disturbed us most. I studied them with a field-glass[674] and took aërial photographs whilst[675] Danforth drove; and at times[676] relieved him at the controls—though my aviation knowledge was purely an amateur’s—in order to let him use the binoculars.[677] We could easily see that much of the material of the things was a lightish archaean[678] quartzite, unlike any formation visible over broad areas of the general surface; and that their regularity was extreme and uncanny to an extent which poor Lake had scarcely hinted.

  As he had said, their edges were crumbled and rounded from untold aeons of savage weathering; but their preternatural solidity and tough material had saved them from obliteration. Many parts, especially those closest to the slopes, seemed identical in substance with the surrounding rock surface.[679] The whole arrangement looked like the ruins of Machu Picchu in the Andes, or the primal foundation-walls[680] of Kish as dug up by the Oxford–Field[681] Museum Expedition in 1929; and both Danforth and I obtained that occasional impression of separate Cyclopean blocks [682] which Lake had attributed to his flight-companion Carroll.[683] How to account for such things in this place was frankly beyond me, and I felt queerly humbled as a geologist. Igneous formations often have strange regularities—like the famous Giants’ Causeway in Ireland—but this stupendous range, despite Lake’s original suspicion of smoking cones, was above all else non-volcanic[684] in evident structure.

  The curious cave-mouths,[685] near which the odd formations seemed most abundant, presented another[686] albeit a lesser puzzle because of their regularity of outline. They were, as Lake’s bulletin had said, often approximately square or semicircular; as if the natural orifices had been shaped to greater symmetry by some magic hand. Their numerousness and wide distribution were remarkable, and suggested that the whole region was honeycombed with tunnels dissolved out of limestone strata.[687] Such glimpses as we secured did not extend far within the caverns, but we saw that they were apparently clear of stalactites and stalagmites. Outside, those parts of the mountain slopes adjoining the apertures seemed invariably smooth and regular; and Danforth thought that the slight cracks and pittings of the weathering tended toward unusual patterns.[688] Filled as he was with the horrors and strangenesses discovered at the camp, he hinted that the pittings vaguely resembled those baffling groups of dots sprinkled over the primeval[689] greenish soapstones, so hideously duplicated on the madly conceived snow mounds above those six buried monstrosities.

  We had risen gradually in flying over the higher foothills and along toward the relatively low pass we had selected. As we advanced we occasionally looked down at the snow and ice of the land route, wondering whether we could have attempted the trip with the simpler equipment of earlier days.[690] Somewhat to our surprise we saw that the terrain was far from difficult as such things go; and that despite the crevasses and other bad spots it would not have been likely to deter the sledges of a Scott, a Shackleton, or an Amundsen. Some of the glaciers appeared to lead up to wind-bared passes with unusual continuity, and upon reaching our chosen pass we found that its case formed no exception.

  Our sensations of tense expectancy as we prepared to round the crest and peer out over an untrodden world can hardly be described on paper; even though we had no cause to think the regions beyond the range essentially different from those already seen and traversed. The touch of evil mystery in these barrier mountains, and in the beckoning sea of opalescent sky glimpsed betwixt their summits, was a highly subtle and attenuated matter not to be explained in literal words. Rather was it an affair of vague psychological symbolism and aesthetic association—a thing mixed up with exotic poetry and paintings, and with archaic myths lurking in shunned and forbidden volumes.[691] Even the wind’s burden held a peculiar strain of conscious malignity; and for a
second it seemed that the composite sound included a bizarre musical whistling[692] or piping over a wide range as the blast swept in and out of the omnipresent and resonant cave-mouths.[693] There was a cloudy note of reminiscent repulsion in this sound, as complex and unplaceable as any of the other dark impressions.

  We were now, after a slow ascent, at a height of 23,570[694] feet according to the aneroid; and had left the region of clinging snow definitely below us. Up here were only dark, bare rock slopes and the start of rough-ribbed glaciers—but with those provocative cubes, ramparts, and echoing cave-mouths[695] to add a portent of the unnatural, the fantastic, and the dream-like.[696] Looking along the line of high peaks, I thought I could see the one mentioned by poor Lake, with a rampart exactly on top. It seemed to be half-lost[697] in a queer antarctic haze;[698] such a haze, perhaps, as had been responsible for Lake’s early notion of volcanism.[699] The pass loomed directly before us, smooth and windswept between its jagged and malignly frowning pylons. Beyond it was a sky fretted with swirling vapours[700] and lighted by the low polar sun—the sky of that mysterious farther realm upon which we felt no human eye had ever gazed.

  A few more feet of altitude and we would behold that realm. Danforth and I, unable to speak except in shouts amidst the howling, piping wind that raced through the pass and added to the noise of the unmuffled engines, exchanged eloquent glances. And then, having gained those last few feet, we did indeed stare across the momentous divide and over the unsampled secrets of an elder and utterly alien earth.

  V.

  I think that both of us simultaneously cried out in mixed awe, wonder, terror, and disbelief in our own senses as we finally cleared the pass and saw what lay beyond. Of course[701] we must have had some natural theory in the back of our heads to steady our faculties for the moment. Probably we thought of such things as the grotesquely weathered stones of the Garden of the Gods in Colorado, or the fantastically symmetrical wind-carved rocks of the Arizona desert. Perhaps we even half thought[702] the sight a mirage like that we had seen the morning before on first approaching those mountains of madness.[703] We must have had some such normal notions to fall back upon as our eyes swept that limitless, tempest-scarred plateau and grasped the almost endless labyrinth of colossal, regular, and geometrically eurhythmic[704] stone masses which reared their crumbled and pitted crests above a glacial sheet not more than 40 or 50[705] feet deep at its thickest, and in places obviously thinner.

  The effect of the monstrous sight was indescribable, for some fiendish violation of known natural law seemed certain at the outset. Here, on a hellishly ancient table-land fully 20,000[706] feet high, and in a climate deadly to habitation since a pre-human[707] age not less than 500,000[708] years ago, there stretched nearly to the vision’s limit a tangle of orderly stone which only the desperation of mental self-defence[709] could possibly attribute to any but a conscious and artificial cause.[710] We had previously dismissed, so far as serious thought was concerned, any theory that the cubes and ramparts of the mountainsides were other than natural in origin. How could they be otherwise, when man himself could scarcely have been differentiated from the great apes at the time when this region succumbed to the present unbroken reign of glacial death?

  Yet now the sway of reason seemed irrefutably shaken, for this Cyclopean maze of squared, curved, and angled blocks had features which cut off all comfortable refuge. It was, very clearly, the blasphemous city of the mirage in stark, objective, and ineluctable reality. That damnable portent had had a material basis after all—there had been some horizontal stratum of ice-dust[711] in the upper air, and this shocking stone survival had projected its image across the mountains according to the simple laws of reflection. Of course[712] the phantom had been twisted and exaggerated, and had contained things which the real source did not contain; yet now, as we saw that real source, we thought it even more hideous and menacing than its distant image.

  Only the incredible, unhuman massiveness of these vast stone towers and ramparts had saved the frightful thing from utter annihilation in the hundreds of thousands—perhaps millions—of years it had brooded there amidst the blasts of a bleak upland. “Corona Mundi . . .[713] Roof of the World . . .”[714] All sorts of fantastic phrases sprang to our lips as we looked dizzily down at the unbelievable spectacle.[715] I thought again of the eldritch primal myths that had so persistently haunted me since my first sight of this dead antarctic world—of the daemoniac[716] plateau of Leng, of the Mi-Go, or Abominable Snow-Men[717] of the Himalayas, of the Pnakotic Manuscripts with their pre-human[718] implications, of the Cthulhu cult, of the “Necronomicon”,[719] and of the Hyperborean legends of formless Tsathoggua and the worse than formless star-spawn[720] associated with that semi-entity.[721]

  For boundless miles in every direction the thing stretched off with very little thinning; indeed, as our eyes followed it to the right and left along the base of the low, gradual foothills which separated it from the actual mountain rim, we decided that we could see no thinning at all except for an interruption at the left of the pass through which we had come. We had merely struck, at random, a limited part of something of incalculable extent.[722] The foothills were more sparsely sprinkled with grotesque stone structures, linking the terrible city to the already familiar cubes and ramparts which evidently formed its mountain outposts. These latter, as well as the queer cave-mouths,[723] were as thick on the inner as on the outer sides of the mountains.

  The nameless stone labyrinth consisted, for the most part, of walls from 10 to 150[724] feet in ice-clear height, and of a thickness varying from five to ten feet. It was composed mostly of prodigious blocks of dark primordial slate, schist, and sandstone—blocks in many cases as large as 4 × 6 × 8 feet—though in several places it seemed to be carved out of a solid, uneven bed-rock[725] of pre-Cambrian slate.[726] The buildings were far from equal in size;[727] there being innumerable honeycomb-arrangements[728] of enormous extent as well as smaller separate structures.[729] The general shape of these things tended to be conical, pyramidal, or terraced; though there were many perfect cylinders, perfect cubes, clusters of cubes, and other rectangular forms, and a peculiar sprinkling of angled edifices whose five-pointed ground plan roughly suggested modern fortifications. The builders had made constant and expert use of the principle of the arch, and domes had probably existed in the city’s heyday.

  The whole tangle was monstrously weathered, and the glacial surface from which[730] the towers projected was strown[731] with fallen blocks and immemorial debris.[732] Where the glaciation was transparent we could see the lower parts of the gigantic piles, and[733] noticed the ice-preserved stone bridges which connected the different towers at varying distances above the ground. On the exposed walls we could detect the scarred places where other and higher bridges of the same sort had existed.[734] Closer inspection revealed countless largish windows; some of which were closed with shutters of a petrified material originally wood, though most gaped open in a sinister and menacing fashion.[735] Many of the ruins, of course, were roofless, and with uneven though wind-rounded upper edges; whilst others, of a more sharply conical or pyramidal model or else protected by higher surrounding structures, preserved intact outlines despite the omnipresent crumbling and pitting. With the field-glass[736] we could barely make out what seemed to be sculptural decorations in horizontal bands—decorations including those curious groups of dots whose presence on the ancient soapstones now assumed a vastly larger significance.

  In many places the buildings were totally ruined and the ice-sheet[737] deeply riven from various geologic causes. In other places the stonework was worn down to the very level of the glaciation. One broad swath, extending from the plateau’s interior to a cleft in the foothills about a mile to the left of the pass we had traversed, was wholly free from buildings; and[738] probably represented, we concluded, the course of some great river which in Tertiary[739] times—millions of years ago—had poured through the city and into some prodigious subterranean
abyss of the great barrier range. Certainly, this was above all a region of caves, gulfs, and underground secrets beyond human penetration.

  Looking back to our sensations, and recalling our dazedness at viewing this monstrous survival from aeons we had thought pre-human,[740] I can only wonder that we preserved the semblance of equilibrium[741] which we did. Of course[742] we knew that something—chronology, scientific theory, or our own consciousness—was woefully awry; yet we kept enough poise to guide the plane, observe many things quite minutely, and take a careful series of photographs which may yet serve both us and the world in good stead.[743] In my case, ingrained scientific habit may have helped; for above all my bewilderment and sense of menace there burned a dominant curiosity to fathom more of this age-old secret—to know what sort of beings had built and lived in this incalculably gigantic place, and what relation to the general world of its time or of other times so unique a concentration of life could have had.

  For this place could be no ordinary city. It must have formed the primary nucleus and centre[744] of some archaic and unbelievable chapter of earth’s history whose outward ramifications, recalled only dimly in the most obscure and distorted myths, had vanished utterly amidst the chaos of terrene convulsions long before any human race we know had shambled out of apedom. Here sprawled a palaeogean[745] megalopolis compared with which the fabled Atlantis and Lemuria, Commoriom and Uzuldaroum, and Olathoë in the land of Lomar are recent things of today[746]—not even of yesterday; a megalopolis ranking with such whispered pre-human[747] blasphemies as Valusia, R’lyeh, Ib in the land of Mnar, and the Nameless City of Arabia Deserta.[748] As we flew above that tangle of stark titan[749] towers my imagination sometimes escaped all bounds and roved aimlessly in realms of fantastic associations—even weaving links betwixt this lost world and some of my own wildest dreams concerning the mad horror at the camp.