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- Говард Лавкрафт
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- Тень над Иннсмутом
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- Стр. 29/41
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But
I
must
try
to
tell
what
I
thought
I
saw
that
night
under
the
mocking
yellow
moon
--
saw
surging
and
hopping
down
the
Rowley
road
in
plain
sight
in
front
of
me
as
I
crouched
among
the
wild
brambles
of
that
desolate
railway
cut
.
Of
course
my
resolution
to
keep
my
eyes
shut
had
failed
.
It
was
foredoomed
to
failure
--
for
who
could
crouch
blindly
while
a
legion
of
croaking
,
baying
entities
of
unknown
source
flopped
noisomely
past
,
scarcely
more
than
a
hundred
yards
away
?
I
thought
I
was
prepared
for
the
worst
,
and
I
really
ought
to
have
been
prepared
considering
what
I
had
seen
before
.
My
other
pursuers
had
been
accursedly
abnormal
--
so
should
I
not
have
been
ready
to
face
a
strengthening
of
the
abnormal
element
;
to
look
upon
forms
in
which
there
was
no
mixture
of
the
normal
at
all
?
I
did
not
open
my
eyes
until
the
raucous
clamour
came
loudly
from
a
point
obviously
straight
ahead
.
Then
I
knew
that
a
long
section
of
them
must
be
plainly
in
sight
where
the
sides
of
the
cut
flattened
out
and
the
road
crossed
the
track
--
and
I
could
no
longer
keep
myself
from
sampling
whatever
horror
that
leering
yellow
moon
might
have
to
shew
.
It
was
the
end
,
for
whatever
remains
to
me
of
life
on
the
surface
of
this
earth
,
of
every
vestige
of
mental
peace
and
confidence
in
the
integrity
of
nature
and
of
the
human
mind
.
Nothing
that
I
could
have
imagined
--
nothing
,
even
,
that
I
could
have
gathered
had
I
credited
old
Zadok
's
crazy
tale
in
the
most
literal
way
--
would
be
in
any
way
comparable
to
the
demoniac
,
blasphemous
reality
that
I
saw
--
or
believe
I
saw
.
I
have
tried
to
hint
what
it
was
in
order
to
postpone
the
horror
of
writing
it
down
baldly
.
Can
it
be
possible
that
this
planet
has
actually
spawned
such
things
;
that
human
eyes
have
truly
seen
,
as
objective
flesh
,
what
man
has
hitherto
known
only
in
febrile
phantasy
and
tenuous
legend
?
And
yet
I
saw
them
in
a
limitless
stream
--
flopping
,
hopping
,
croaking
,
bleating
--
urging
inhumanly
through
the
spectral
moonlight
in
a
grotesque
,
malignant
saraband
of
fantastic
nightmare
.
And
some
of
them
had
tall
tiaras
of
that
nameless
whitish-gold
metal
...
and
some
were
strangely
robed
...
and
one
,
who
led
the
way
,
was
clad
in
a
ghoulishly
humped
black
coat
and
striped
trousers
,
and
had
a
man
's
felt
hat
perched
on
the
shapeless
thing
that
answered
for
a
head
.
I
think
their
predominant
colour
was
a
greyish-green
,
though
they
had
white
bellies
.
They
were
mostly
shiny
and
slippery
,
but
the
ridges
of
their
backs
were
scaly
.
Their
forms
vaguely
suggested
the
anthropoid
,
while
their
heads
were
the
heads
of
fish
,
with
prodigious
bulging
eyes
that
never
closed
.
At
the
sides
of
their
necks
were
palpitating
gills
,
and
their
long
paws
were
webbed
.
They
hopped
irregularly
,
sometimes
on
two
legs
and
sometimes
on
four
.
I
was
somehow
glad
that
they
had
no
more
than
four
limbs
.
Their
croaking
,
baying
voices
,
clearly
used
for
articulate
speech
,
held
all
the
dark
shades
of
expression
which
their
staring
faces
lacked
.
888
But
for
all
of
their
monstrousness
they
were
not
unfamiliar
to
me
I
knew
too
well
what
they
must
be
--
for
was
not
the
memory
of
the
evil
tiara
at
Newburyport
still
fresh
?
They
were
the
blasphemous
fish-frogs
of
the
nameless
design
--
living
and
horrible
--
and
as
I
saw
them
I
knew
also
of
what
that
humped
,
tiaraed
priest
in
the
black
church
basement
had
fearsomely
reminded
me
.
Their
number
was
past
guessing
.
It
seemed
to
me
that
there
were
limitless
swarms
of
them
and
certainly
my
momentary
glimpse
could
have
shewn
only
the
least
fraction
.
In
another
instant
everything
was
blotted
out
by
a
merciful
fit
of
fainting
;
the
first
I
had
ever
had
.
