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Fantasy Fan, v. 2, issue 3, whole no. 15, November 1934

Page 42

42     THE FANTASY FAN, November 1934

this difficult region: broad, cyclopean flags of gneiss, channeled as if by the storms of cycles older than human history. And in some of the deeper chasms we saw the eroded piers of great bridges that had spanned them in other time. These ruins reassured us; for the primordial volume there was mention of a highway and of mighty bridges, leading to the fabulous city.
Polder and I were exultant; and yet I think that we both shivered with a curious terror when we tried to read certain inscriptions that were still deeply engraved on the worn stones. No living man, tho erudite in all the tongues of Earth, could have deciphered these characters; and perhaps it was their very alienage that frightened us. We had sought diligently during laborious years for all that transcends the dead level of mortality through age or remoteness or strangeness; we had longed ardently for the esoteric and bizarre; but such longing was not incompatible with fear and repulsion. Better than those who had walked always in the common paths, we knew the perils that might attend our exorbitant and solitary reserches.
Often we had debated, with variously fantastic conjectures, the enigma of the mountain builded city. But, toward our journey's end, when the vestiges of that pristine people multiplied around us, we fell into long periods of silence, sharing the taciturnity of our stolid guide. Thoughts came to us that were overly strange for utterance; the chill of elder aeons entered our hearts from the ruins--and did not depart.
We toiled on between the desolate rocks and the sterile heavens, breathing an air that became thin and painful to the lungs, as if some [[?]]xture of cosmic ether. At high noon we [[?]]ed an open pass, and saw before and above us, at the end of a long and quickly opened perspective, the city that had been described as an unnamed ruin in a volume antedating all other known books.
The place was built on an inner peak of the range, surrounded by snowless summits of little sterner and loftier than itself. On one side the peak fell in a thousand-foot precipice from the overhanging ramparts; on another, it was terraced with wild cliffs; but the third side, facing toward us, was a steep acclivity with broken-down scarps and chimmeys that would offer small difficult to expert mountaineers. The rock of the whole mountain was  strangely ruinous and black; but the city walls, tho gapped and worn to like a dilapidation, were conspicuous at a distance of leagues.
Polder and I beheld the bourn of our world-wide search with thoughts and emotions which we did not voice. The Indian made no comment, pointing impassively toward the far suwmit with its crown of ruins, We hurried on, wishing to complete our journey by daylight; and plunging into an abysmal valley, we began at mid-afternoon the ascent of the slope toward the city.
We were impressed anew by the abnormal and manifold cleavages of the granite. It was like climbing amid the overthrown and fire-blasted blocks of a Titan citadel. Everywhere the slope was rent into huge, obliquely angled masses, often partly vitrified, which made the ascent a more ardous problem than we had expected. Plainly, at some former time, the stone had been subjected to the action o[[?]] heat; and yet there were no volcanic crateas amid the nearby mountains. Puzzling grearly, I recalled a passage in the old volume, hinting ambiguously at the dark

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42 THE FANTASY FAN, November 1934 this difficult region: broad, cyclopean flags of gneiss, channeled as if by the storms of cycles older than human history. And in some of the deeper chasms we saw the eroded piers of great bridges that had spanned them in other time. These ruins reassured us; for the primordial volume there was mention of a highway and of mighty bridges, leading to the fabulous city. Polder and I were exultant; and yet I think that we both shivered with a curious terror when we tried to read certain inscriptions that were still deeply engraved on the worn stones. No living man, tho erudite in all the tongues of Earth, could have deciphered these characters; and perhaps it was their very alienage that frightened us. We had sought diligently during laborious years for all that transcends the dead level of mortality through age or remoteness or strangeness; we had longed ardently for the esoteric and bizarre; but such longing was not incompatible with fear and repulsion. Better than those who had walked always in the common paths, we knew the perils that might attend our exorbitant and solitary reserches. Often we had debated, with variously fantastic conjectures, the enigma of the mountain builded city. But, toward our journey's end, when the vestiges of that pristine people multiplied around us, we fell into long periods of silence, sharing the taciturnity of our stolid guide. Thoughts came to us that were overly strange for utterance; the chill of elder aeons entered our hearts from the ruins--and did not depart. We toiled on between the desolate rocks and the sterile heavens, breathing an air that became thin and painful to the lungs, as if some [[?]]xture of cosmic ether. At high noon we [[?]]ed an open pass, and saw before and above us, at the end of a long and quickly opened perspective, the city that had been described as an unnamed ruin in a volume antedating all other known books. The place was built on an inner peak of the range, surrounded by snowless summits of little sterner and loftier than itself. On one side the peak fell in a thousand-foot precipice from the overhanging ramparts; on another, it was terraced with wild cliffs; but the third side, facing toward us, was a steep acclivity with broken-down scarps and chimmeys that would offer small difficult to expert mountaineers. The rock of the whole mountain was strangely ruinous and black; but the city walls, tho gapped and worn to like a dilapidation, were conspicuous at a distance of leagues. Polder and I beheld the bourn of our world-wide search with thoughts and emotions which we did not voice. The Indian made no comment, pointing impassively toward the far suwmit with its crown of ruins, We hurried on, wishing to complete our journey by daylight; and plunging into an abysmal valley, we began at mid-afternoon the ascent of the slope toward the city. We were impressed anew by the abnormal and manifold cleavages of the granite. It was like climbing amid the overthrown and fire-blasted blocks of a Titan citadel. Everywhere the slope was rent into huge, obliquely angled masses, often partly vitrified, which made the ascent a more ardous problem than we had expected. Plainly, at some former time, the stone had been subjected to the action o[[?]] heat; and yet there were no volcanic crateas amid the nearby mountains. Puzzling grearly, I recalled a passage in the old volume, hinting ambiguously at the dark