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Agenbite of Inwit, issue 5, Summer 1944

Page 4

I well remember the night of September 10th. It had started out a hot, sultry day in Indian summer; toward evening, it grew chill, and, as the sun set a high wind sprang up. Dark clouds seemed to arise out of nowhere and very shortly a gale was blowing down from the hills and lightning was crackling far in the distance.

Along about twelve o'clock, a curious lull occurred which lasted for about ten minutes. I recall it well for at that moment a stench of rustiness seeped into the town, drenching every house and person. I had been reading late and i stopped as the smell assailed me, and realization that the storm had ceased came to me. I stepped to the window, pulled up the shades, and stared out.

Outside, the sky was a dead black. There was a pregnant stillness in the air, and a thin, miasmatic mist hung all about. Then like a bolt from the blue there came a terrific clap of thunder and with it a startling green flash of lightning which seemed to strike somewhere in Arkham and linger. I remember being amazed at the fact that I had heard the thunder before seeing the the lightning, rather than after. 

Immediately after this remarkable phenomenon, the storm broke out in renewed fury and continued several more hours.

I WAS AWAKENED in the morning by the insistent ringing of the telephone. My aunt, who answered it, knocked on the door shortly after and bade me dress. It seemed that it was the Crombleigh house that had been the resting point of the odd lightning. Nothing was damaged, but Eliphas Snodgrass was missing.

I rushed over. As I neared the house, I could sense the smell, and upon crossing the threshold, I was virtually bowled over by the odor of dead and decaying fish which permeated the place. The stench had come when the lightning struck, and they were trying desperately to air it out. It had been much worse than it was now.

Overcoming my repugnance, I went in and climbed the steps to Eliphas' room. It was in dreadful disorder, as if someone had left hurriedly. I was told that a bag had been packed and it was missing. Eliphas' bed had not been slept in; the room was strewn with books, manuscripts, papers, diaries, and curious old relics.

During the next few days, while elsewhere state police and federal authorities were making a futile search for young Snodgrass, I went over the items I had found in his room. I shudder at the terrible notes and the things they implied.

Primarily, I found a note-book, the sort children use for copying lessons, in which I seemed to sense a series of clues. Evidently Snodgrass kept memoranda in it. There was a yellowed newspaper clipping from some San Francisco paper, which said in part: -- 

FREIGHTER IN PORT WITH STRANGE TALE
The "Kungshavn" arrives with story of Boiling Sea and Sinking Islands.

San Francisco: The Swedish freighter "Kungshavn" arrived in port today with its crew telling a strange story of a weird storm at sea, and almost reluctant to speak of it, but reporters drew out a fantastic tale of a sudden storm which hit the ship two days out of New Guinea, of a terrible waterspout that pursued the ship for five hours in the semi-darkness of the storm, and of an island that seemed to sink into the water

Saving...

I well remember the night of September 10th. It had started out a hot, sultry day in Indian summer; toward evening, it grew chill, and, as the sun set a high wind sprang up. Dark clouds seemed to arise out of nowhere and very shortly a gale was blowing down from the hills and lightning was crackling far in the distance. Along about twelve o'clock, a curious lull occurred which lasted for about ten minutes. I recall it well for at that moment a stench of rustiness seeped into the town, drenching every house and person. I had been reading late and i stopped as the smell assailed me, and realization that the storm had ceased came to me. I stepped to the window, pulled up the shades, and stared out. Outside, the sky was a dead black. There was a pregnant stillness in the air, and a thin, miasmatic mist hung all about. Then like a bolt from the blue there came a terrific clap of thunder and with it a startling green flash of lightning which seemed to strike somewhere in Arkham and linger. I remember being amazed at the fact that I had heard the thunder before seeing the the lightning, rather than after. Immediately after this remarkable phenomenon, the storm broke out in renewed fury and continued several more hours. I WAS AWAKENED in the morning by the insistent ringing of the telephone. My aunt, who answered it, knocked on the door shortly after and bade me dress. It seemed that it was the Crombleigh house that had been the resting point of the odd lightning. Nothing was damaged, but Eliphas Snodgrass was missing. I rushed over. As I neared the house, I could sense the smell, and upon crossing the threshold, I was virtually bowled over by the odor of dead and decaying fish which permeated the place. The stench had come when the lightning struck, and they were trying desperately to air it out. It had been much worse than it was now. Overcoming my repugnance, I went in and climbed the steps to Eliphas' room. It was in dreadful disorder, as if someone had left hurriedly. I was told that a bag had been packed and it was missing. Eliphas' bed had not been slept in; the room was strewn with books, manuscripts, papers, diaries, and curious old relics. During the next few days, while elsewhere state police and federal authorities were making a futile search for young Snodgrass, I went over the items I had found in his room. I shudder at the terrible notes and the things they implied. Primarily, I found a note-book, the sort children use for copying lessons, in which I seemed to sense a series of clues. Evidently Snodgrass kept memoranda in it. There was a yellowed newspaper clipping from some San Francisco paper, which said in part: -- FREIGHTER IN PORT WITH STRANGE TALE The "Kungshavn" arrives with story of Boiling Sea and Sinking Islands. San Francisco: The Swedish freighter "Kungshavn" arrived in port today with its crew telling a strange story of a weird storm at sea, and almost reluctant to speak of it, but reporters drew out a fantastic tale of a sudden storm which hit the ship two days out of New Guinea, of a terrible waterspout that pursued the ship for five hours in the semi-darkness of the storm, and of an island that seemed to sink into the water