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object:1f.lovecraft - Till A the Seas
author class:H P Lovecraft
subject class:Fiction
genre class:Horror
class:chapter

By R. H. Barlow
and H. P. Lovecraft
Upon an eroded cliff-top rested the man, gazing far across the valley.
Lying thus, he could see a great distance, but in all the sere expanse
there was no visible motion. Nothing stirred the dusty plain, the
disintegrated sand of long-dry river-beds, where once coursed the
gushing streams of Earth’s youth. There was little greenery in this
ultimate world, this final stage of mankind’s prolonged presence upon
the planet. For unnumbered aeons the drought and sandstorms had ravaged
all the lands. The trees and bushes had given way to small, twisted
shrubs that persisted long through their sturdiness; but these, in
turn, perished before the onslaught of coarse grasses and stringy,
tough vegetation of strange evolution.
The ever-present heat, as Earth drew nearer to the sun, withered and
killed with pitiless rays. It had not come at once; long aeons had gone
before any could feel the change. And all through those first ages
man’s adaptable form had followed the slow mutation and modelled itself
to fit the more and more torrid air. Then the day had come when men
could bear their hot cities but ill, and a gradual recession began,
slow yet deliberate. Those towns and settlements closest to the equator
had been first, of course, but later there were others. Man, softened
and exhausted, could cope no longer with the ruthlessly mounting heat.
It seared him as he was, and evolution was too slow to mould new
resistances in him.
Yet not at first were the great cities of the equator left to the
spider and the scorpion. In the early years there were many who stayed
on, devising curious shields and armours against the heat and the
deadly dryness. These fearless souls, screening certain buildings
against the encroaching sun, made miniature worlds of refuge wherein no
protective armour was needed. They contrived marvellously ingenious
things, so that for a while men persisted in the rusting towers, hoping
thereby to cling to old lands till the searing should be over. For many
would not believe what the astronomers said, and looked for a coming of
the mild olden world again. But one day the men of Dath, from the new
city of Niyara, made signals to Yuanario, their immemorially ancient
capital, and gained no answer from the few who remained therein. And
when explorers reached that millennial city of bridge-linked towers
they found only silence. There was not even the horror of corruption,
for the scavenger lizards had been swift.
Only then did the people fully realize that these cities were lost to
them; know that they must forever abandon them to nature. The other
colonists in the hot lands fled from their brave posts, and total
silence reigned within the high basalt walls of a thousand empty towns.
Of the dense throngs and multitudinous activities of the past, nothing
finally remained. There now loomed against the rainless deserts only
the blistered towers of vacant houses, factories, and structures of
every sort, reflecting the sun’s dazzling radiance and parching in the
more and more intolerable heat.
Many lands, however, had still escaped the scorching blight, so that
the refugees were soon absorbed in the life of a newer world. During
strangely prosperous centuries the hoary deserted cities of the equator
grew half-forgotten and entwined with fantastic fables. Few thought of
those spectral, rotting towers . . . those huddles of shabby walls and
cactus-choked streets, darkly silent and abandoned. . . .
Wars came, sinful and prolonged, but the times of peace were greater.
Yet always the swollen sun increased its radiance as Earth drew closer
to its fiery parent. It was as if the planet meant to return to that
source whence it was snatched, aeons ago, through the accidents of
cosmic growth.
After a time the blight crept outward from the central belt. Southern
Yarat burned as a tenantless desert—and then the north. In Perath and
Baling, those ancient cities where brooding centuries dwelt, there
moved only the scaly shapes of the serpent and the salamander, and at
last Loton echoed only to the fitful falling of tottering spires and
crumbling domes.
Steady, universal, and inexorable was the great eviction of man from
the realms he had always known. No land within the widening stricken
belt was spared; no people left unrouted. It was an epic, a titan
tragedy whose plot was unrevealed to the actors—this wholesale
desertion of the cities of men. It took not years or even centuries,
but millennia of ruthless change. And still it kept on—sullen,
inevitable, savagely devastating.
Agriculture was at a standstill, the world fast became too arid for
crops. This was remedied by artificial substitutes, soon universally
used. And as the old places that had known the great things of mortals
were left, the loot salvaged by the fugitives grew smaller and smaller.
Things of the greatest value and importance were left in dead
museums—lost amid the centuries—and in the end the heritage of the
immemorial past was abandoned. A degeneracy both physical and cultural
set in with the insidious heat. For man had so long dwelt in comfort
and security that this exodus from past scenes was difficult. Nor were
these events received phlegmatically; their very slowness was
terrifying. Degradation and debauchery were soon common; government was
disorganized, and the civilizations aimlessly slid back toward
barbarism.
When, forty-nine centuries after the blight from the equatorial belt,
the whole western hemisphere was left unpeopled, chaos was complete.
There was no trace of order or decency in the last scenes of this
titanic, wildly impressive migration. Madness and frenzy stalked
through them, and fanatics screamed of an Armageddon close at hand.
Mankind was now a pitiful remnant of the elder races, a fugitive not
only from the prevailing conditions, but from his own degeneracy. Into
the northland and the antarctic went those who could; the rest lingered
for years in an incredible saturnalia, vaguely doubting the forthcoming
disasters. In the city of Borligo a wholesale execution of the new
prophets took place, after months of unfulfilled expectations. They
thought the flight to the northland unnecessary, and looked no longer
for the threatened ending.
How they perished must have been terrible indeed—those vain, foolish
creatures who thought to defy the universe. But the blackened, scorched
towns are mute. . . .
These events, however, must not be chronicled—for there are larger
things to consider than this complex and unhastening downfall of a lost
civilization. During a long period morale was at lowest ebb among the
courageous few who settled upon the alien arctic and antarctic shores,
now mild as were those of southern Yarat in the long-dead past. But
here there was respite. The soil was fertile, and forgotten pastoral
arts were called into use anew. There was, for a long time, a contented
little epitome of the lost lands; though here were no vast throngs or
great buildings. Only a sparse remnant of humanity survived the aeons
of change and peopled those scattered villages of the later world.
How many millennia this continued is not known. The sun was slow in
invading this last retreat; and as the eras passed there developed a
sound, sturdy race, bearing no memories or legends of the old, lost
lands. Little navigation was practiced by this new people, and the
flying machine was wholly forgotten. Their devices were of the simplest
type, and their culture was simple and primitive. Yet they were
contented, and accepted the warm climate as something natural and
accustomed.
But unknown to these simple peasant-folk, still further rigours of
nature were slowly preparing themselves. As the generations passed, the
waters of the vast and unplumbed ocean wasted slowly away; enriching
the air and the desiccated soil, but sinking lower and lower each
century. The splashing surf still glistened bright, and the swirling
eddies were still there, but a doom of dryness hung over the whole
watery expanse. However, the shrinkage could not have been detected
save by instruments more delicate than any then known to the race. Even
had the people realized the ocean’s contraction, it is not likely that
any vast alarm or great disturbance would have resulted, for the losses
were so slight, and the seas so great. . . . Only a few inches during
many centuries—but in many centuries; increasing—
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So at last the oceans went, and water became a rarity on a globe of
sun-baked drought. Man had slowly spread over all the arctic and
antarctic lands; the equatorial cities, and many of later habitation,
were forgotten even to legend.
And now again the peace was disturbed, for water was scarce, and found
only in deep caverns. There was little enough, even of this; and men
died of thirst wandering in far places. Yet so slow were these deadly
changes, that each new generation of man was loath to believe what it
heard from its parents. None would admit that the heat had been less or
the water more plentiful in the old days, or take warning that days of
bitterer burning and drought were to come. Thus it was even at the end,
when only a few hundred human creatures panted for breath beneath the
cruel sun; a piteous huddled handful out of all the unnumbered millions
who had once dwelt on the doomed planet.
And the hundreds became small, till man was to be reckoned only in
tens. These tens clung to the shrinking dampness of the caves, and knew
at last that the end was near. So slight was their range that none had
ever seen the tiny, fabled spots of ice left close to the planet’s
poles—if such indeed remained. Even had they existed and been known to
man, none could have reached them across the trackless and formidable
deserts. And so the last pathetic few dwindled. . . .
It cannot be described, this awesome chain of events that depopulated
the whole Earth; the range is too tremendous for any to picture or
encompass. Of the people of Earth’s fortunate ages, billions of years
before, only a few prophets and madmen could have conceived that which
was to come—could have grasped visions of the still, dead lands, and
long-empty sea-beds. The rest would have doubted . . . doubted alike
the shadow of change upon the planet and the shadow of doom upon the
race. For man has always thought himself the immortal master of natural
things. . . .
II.
When he had eased the dying pangs of the old woman, Ull wandered in a
fearful daze out into the dazzling sands. She had been a fearsome
thing, shrivelled and so dry; like withered leaves. Her face had been
the colour of the sickly yellow grasses that rustled in the hot wind,
and she was loathsomely old.
But she had been a companion; someone to stammer out vague fears to, to
talk to about this incredible thing; a comrade to share one’s hopes for
succour from those silent other colonies beyond the mountains. He could
not believe none lived elsewhere, for Ull was young, and not certain as
are the old.
For many years he had known none but the old woman—her name was
Mladdna. She had come that day in his eleventh year, when all the
hunters went to seek food, and did not return. Ull had no mother that
he could remember, and there were few women in the tiny group. When the
men vanished, those three women, the young one and the two old, had
screamed fearfully, and moaned long. Then the young one had gone mad,
and killed herself with a sharp stick. The old ones buried her in a
shallow hole dug with their nails, so Ull had been alone when this
still older Mladdna came.
She walked with the aid of a knotty pole, a priceless relique of the
old forests, hard and shiny with years of use. She did not say whence
she came, but stumbled into the cabin while the young suicide was being
buried. There she waited till the two returned, and they accepted her
incuriously.
That was the way it had been for many weeks, until the two fell sick,
and Mladdna could not cure them. Strange that those younger two should
have been stricken, while she, infirm and ancient, lived on. Mladdna
had cared for them many days, and at length they died, so that Ull was
left with only the stranger. He screamed all the night, so she became
at length out of patience, and threatened to die too. Then, hearkening,
he became quiet at once; for he was not desirous of complete solitude.
After that he lived with Mladdna and they gathered roots to eat.
Mladdna’s rotten teeth were ill suited to the food they gathered, but
they contrived to chop it up till she could manage it. This weary
routine of seeking and eating was Ull’s childhood.
Now he was strong, and firm, in his nineteenth year, and the old woman
was dead. There was naught to stay for, so he determined at once to
seek out those fabled huts beyond the mountains, and live with the
people there. There was nothing to take on the journey. Ull closed the
door of his cabin—why, he could not have told, for no animals had been
there for many years—and left the dead woman within. Half-dazed, and
fearful at his own audacity, he walked long hours in the dry grasses,
and at length reached the first of the foothills. The afternoon came,
and he climbed until he was weary, and lay down on the grasses.
Sprawled there, he thought of many things. He wondered at the strange
life, passionately anxious to seek out the lost colony beyond the
mountains; but at last he slept.
When he awoke there was starlight on his face, and he felt refreshed.
Now that the sun was gone for a time, he travelled more quickly, eating
little, and determining to hasten before the lack of water became
difficult to bear. He had brought none; for the last people, dwelling
in one place and never having occasion to bear their precious water
away, made no vessels of any kind. Ull hoped to reach his goal within a
day, and thus escape thirst; so he hurried on beneath the bright stars,
running at times in the warm air, and at other times lapsing into a
dogtrot.
So he continued until the sun arose, yet still he was within the small
hills, with three great peaks looming ahead. In their shade he rested
again. Then he climbed all the morning, and at mid-day surmounted the
first peak, where he lay for a time, surveying the space before the
next range.
Upon an eroded cliff-top rested the man, gazing far across the valley.
Lying thus he could see a great distance, but in all the sere expanse
there was no visible motion. . . .
The second night came, and found Ull amid the rough peaks, the valley
and the place where he had rested far behind. He was nearly out of the
second range now, and hurrying still. Thirst had come upon him that
day, and he regretted his folly. Yet he could not have stayed there
with the corpse, alone in the grasslands. He sought to convince himself
thus, and hastened ever on, tiredly straining.
And now there were only a few steps before the cliff wall would part
and allow a view of the land beyond. Ull stumbled wearily down the
stony way, tumbling and bruising himself even more. It was nearly
before him, this land where men were rumoured to have dwelt; this land
of which he had heard tales in his youth. The way was long, but the
goal was great. A boulder of giant circumference cut off his view; upon
this he scrambled anxiously. Now at last he could behold by the sinking
orb his long-sought destination, and his thirst and aching muscles were
forgotten as he saw joyfully that a small huddle of buildings clung to
the base of the farther cliff.
Ull rested not; but, spurred on by what he saw, ran and staggered and
crawled the half mile remaining. He fancied that he could detect forms
among the rude cabins. The sun was nearly gone; the hateful,
devastating sun that had slain humanity. He could not be sure of
details, but soon the cabins were near.
They were very old, for clay blocks lasted long in the still dryness of
the dying world. Little, indeed, changed but the living things—the
grasses and these last men.
Before him an open door swung upon rude pegs. In the fading light Ull
entered, weary unto death, seeking painfully the expected faces.
Then he fell upon the floor and wept, for at the table was propped a
dry and ancient skeleton.
add-column2log.sh addlist addlist2 addlist3 Agenda_header Agenda_Vol_1 Agenda_works1 allpoetry_authors allpoetry_authors2 allpoetry_authors3 aplayer.sh asay_loop.sh author_sampler.sh BACKUPS bashrc-BACKUP bind_arrowkeys.sh black_wallpaper.jpg book_editting.sh center.sh changedir.sh checkcrontemp.sh chiktemp chiktemp2 chiktemp3 chiktemp4 cw.sh date-2-masslog.sh Desktop docprocessor.sh Documents Downloads eth96l ethnow.sh for_newfull getaddress.sh getbook.sh getchik.sh getlovecraft.sh getsource.sh history_su ifempty.sh if.sh infinite_alarm.sh infinite_sav.sh keys_authoring.sh lambda2.sh lambda.sh lesserlog.sh lesslog.sh majlog.sh map-math.sh map.sh mem_encoder.sh mem_player.sh Music mypoeticside new_subject.sh new_texts organism-quotes Pictures poe-poems POS_file.sh Public quicklisp quotes_switcher.sh randomfooterwp.sh random_sentence.sh random-test.sh read.sh result2.png result.png rip_pic.sh sav_wp.sh say_loop.sh screenshot2.sh screenshot.sh sed1JnlSk sent_compressor.sh simple_az_loop.sh simple_for_loop.sh simple_for_savitri.sh simple_infinite_loop2.sh simple_infinite_loop3.sh simple_infinite_loop.sh SITEMAP sourcerer.sh Steam subject_grouping.sh subject_tagging_keys.sh subject_tagging_newfull.sh subject_tagging.sh T1_wp.sh temp temp4 temp_christ Templates temp-wordlist temp-wordlist2 terminal_colors2.sh terminal_colors.sh test15.sh test_for_loop.sh test.sh timestamp.sh Videos walt-poems when.sh wikipedia-extractor.sh will-wordsworth-poems WORDLIST wordlist-backup-daily.sh wordlist-backup.sh wordlisteditcode.sh wordlistedit.sh wordlisteditxed.sh wp_maker.sh xdo_download_agenda_audio.sh xdo_grab_agenda.sh add-column2log.sh addlist addlist2 addlist3 Agenda_header Agenda_Vol_1 Agenda_works1 allpoetry_authors allpoetry_authors2 allpoetry_authors3 aplayer.sh asay_loop.sh author_sampler.sh BACKUPS bashrc-BACKUP bind_arrowkeys.sh black_wallpaper.jpg book_editting.sh center.sh changedir.sh checkcrontemp.sh chiktemp chiktemp2 chiktemp3 chiktemp4 cw.sh date-2-masslog.sh Desktop docprocessor.sh Documents Downloads eth96l ethnow.sh for_newfull getaddress.sh getbook.sh getchik.sh getlovecraft.sh getsource.sh history_su ifempty.sh if.sh infinite_alarm.sh infinite_sav.sh keys_authoring.sh lambda2.sh lambda.sh lesserlog.sh lesslog.sh majlog.sh map-math.sh map.sh mem_encoder.sh mem_player.sh Music mypoeticside new_subject.sh new_texts organism-quotes Pictures poe-poems POS_file.sh Public quicklisp quotes_switcher.sh randomfooterwp.sh random_sentence.sh random-test.sh read.sh result2.png result.png rip_pic.sh sav_wp.sh say_loop.sh screenshot2.sh screenshot.sh sed1JnlSk sent_compressor.sh simple_az_loop.sh simple_for_loop.sh simple_for_savitri.sh simple_infinite_loop2.sh simple_infinite_loop3.sh simple_infinite_loop.sh SITEMAP sourcerer.sh Steam subject_grouping.sh subject_tagging_keys.sh subject_tagging_newfull.sh subject_tagging.sh T1_wp.sh temp temp4 temp_christ Templates temp-wordlist temp-wordlist2 terminal_colors2.sh terminal_colors.sh test15.sh test_for_loop.sh test.sh timestamp.sh Videos walt-poems when.sh wikipedia-extractor.sh will-wordsworth-poems WORDLIST wordlist-backup-daily.sh wordlist-backup.sh wordlisteditcode.sh wordlistedit.sh wordlisteditxed.sh wp_maker.sh xdo_download_agenda_audio.sh xdo_grab_agenda.sh *
He rose at last, crazed by thirst, aching unbearably, and suffering the
greatest disappointment any mortal could know. He was, then, the last
living thing upon the globe. His the heritage of the Earth . . . all
the lands, and all to him equally useless. He staggered up, not looking
at the dim white form in the reflected moonlight, and went through the
door. About the empty village he wandered, searching for water and
sadly inspecting this long-empty place so spectrally preserved by the
changeless air. Here there was a dwelling, there a rude place where
things had been made—clay vessels holding only dust, and nowhere any
liquid to quench his burning thirst.
Then, in the centre of the little town, Ull saw a well-curb. He knew
what it was, for he had heard tales of such things from Mladdna. With
pitiful joy, he reeled forward and leaned upon the edge. There, at
last, was the end of his search. Water—slimy, stagnant, and shallow,
but water—before his sight.
Ull cried out in the voice of a tortured animal, groping for the chain
and bucket. His hand slipped on the slimy edge; and he fell upon his
chest across the brink. For a moment he lay there—then soundlessly his
body was precipitated down the black shaft.
There was a slight splash in the murky shallowness as he struck some
long-sunken stone, dislodged aeons ago from the massive coping. The
disturbed water subsided into quietness.
And now at last the Earth was dead. The final, pitiful survivor had
perished. All the teeming billions; the slow aeons; the empires and
civilizations of mankind were summed up in this poor twisted form—and
how titanically meaningless it all had been! Now indeed had come an end
and climax to all the efforts of humanity—how monstrous and incredible
a climax in the eyes of those poor complacent fools of the prosperous
days! Not ever again would the planet know the thunderous tramping of
human millions—or even the crawling of lizards and the buzz of insects,
for they, too, had gone. Now was come the reign of sapless branches and
endless fields of tough grasses. Earth, like its cold, imperturbable
moon, was given over to silence and blackness forever.
The stars whirred on; the whole careless plan would continue for
infinities unknown. This trivial end of a negligible episode mattered
not to distant nebulae or to suns new-born, flourishing, and dying. The
race of man, too puny and momentary to have a real function or purpose,
was as if it had never existed. To such a conclusion the aeons of its
farcically toilsome evolution had led.
But when the deadly sun’s first rays darted across the valley, a light
found its way to the weary face of a broken figure that lay in the
slime.
Return to “Till A’ the Seas”


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