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Polaris, v. 1, issue 4, September 1940
Page 5
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POLARIS thankful! More than anything it resembled an oak. It had a huge, twisted trunk, fully a yard in diameter, and the large limbs began spreading outward scarcely seven feet from the ground. The leaves were round, and curiously alike in size and design. It might have been a tree painted on a canvas, but I will swear that it was real. I shall always know that it was real, despite what Theunis said later. I recall that I glanced at the sun and judged the time to be about 10 o'clock a.m., althought I did not look at my watch. The day was becoming warm, and I sat for a while in the welcome shade beneath it - - another singular phenomenon when I remembered the bleak terrain throught wich I had passed. A wild maze of hills, raviens and bluffs hemmed me in on all sides, althought the rise on wich I sat was rather higher than any other within miles. I locked far to the east - - and I jumped to my feet, startled and amazed. Shimmering through a blue haze of distance were the Bitterroot Mountains. There is no other range of snow-capped peaks within three hundred miles of Hampdon; and I knew - - - at this altitude - - - that I shouldn't be seeing them at all. For several minutes I gazed at the marvel; then I became droway. I lay in the rank grass, beneath the tree. I unatrapped may camera, took off my hat, and relaxed, staring skyward through the greeen leaves. I closed my eyes. Then a curious phenomenon began to assail me - - - a vague, cloudy sort of vision - - - glimpsing or day-dreaming seemingly without relevance to anything familiar. I thought I saw a great temple by a sea of ooze, where three suns gleamed in a pale red sky. The vast tomb, or temple, was an anamalous color ---- a nameless blue-violet shade. Large beasts flew in the cloudy sky, and I seemed to hear the pounding of their scaly wings. I went nearer the stone temple, and a huge doorway loomed in front of me. Within that portal were swirling shadows that seemed to dart and leer and try to snatch me inside that awful darkness. I thought I saw three flaming eyes in the shifting void of a doorway, and I screamed with mortal fear. In that noisome depth, I knew, lurked utter destruction - - - a living hell even worse than death. I screamed again. The vision faded. I saw the round leaves and the same earthly sky. I struggled to rise. I was trembling; cold perspiration beaded my brow. I had a mad impulse to flee; run insanely from that sinister tree on the hill - - - but I checked the absurd intuition and sat down, trying to collect my senses. Never had I dreamed anything so realistic; so horrifying. What had caused the vision? I had been reading several of Theunis' tones on ancient Egypt . . . . I mopped my forehead, and decided that it was time for lunch. But I did not feel like eating. Then I had an inspiration. I would take a few snapshots of the tree, for Theunis. They might shock him out of his habitual air of unvonvern. Perhaps I would tell him about the dream . . . . Opening my camera, I took half a dozen shots of the tree, and every aspect of the landscape as seen from the tree. Also, I included one of the gleaming, snow-crested peaks. I might want to return, and these photos would help . . . . Folding the camera, I returned to my cushion of soft grass. Had that spot beneath the tree a certain alien enchantment? I know that I was reluctant to leave it . . .
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POLARIS thankful! More than anything it resembled an oak. It had a huge, twisted trunk, fully a yard in diameter, and the large limbs began spreading outward scarcely seven feet from the ground. The leaves were round, and curiously alike in size and design. It might have been a tree painted on a canvas, but I will swear that it was real. I shall always know that it was real, despite what Theunis said later. I recall that I glanced at the sun and judged the time to be about 10 o'clock a.m., althought I did not look at my watch. The day was becoming warm, and I sat for a while in the welcome shade beneath it - - another singular phenomenon when I remembered the bleak terrain throught wich I had passed. A wild maze of hills, raviens and bluffs hemmed me in on all sides, althought the rise on wich I sat was rather higher than any other within miles. I locked far to the east - - and I jumped to my feet, startled and amazed. Shimmering through a blue haze of distance were the Bitterroot Mountains. There is no other range of snow-capped peaks within three hundred miles of Hampdon; and I knew - - - at this altitude - - - that I shouldn't be seeing them at all. For several minutes I gazed at the marvel; then I became droway. I lay in the rank grass, beneath the tree. I unatrapped may camera, took off my hat, and relaxed, staring skyward through the greeen leaves. I closed my eyes. Then a curious phenomenon began to assail me - - - a vague, cloudy sort of vision - - - glimpsing or day-dreaming seemingly without relevance to anything familiar. I thought I saw a great temple by a sea of ooze, where three suns gleamed in a pale red sky. The vast tomb, or temple, was an anamalous color ---- a nameless blue-violet shade. Large beasts flew in the cloudy sky, and I seemed to hear the pounding of their scaly wings. I went nearer the stone temple, and a huge doorway loomed in front of me. Within that portal were swirling shadows that seemed to dart and leer and try to snatch me inside that awful darkness. I thought I saw three flaming eyes in the shifting void of a doorway, and I screamed with mortal fear. In that noisome depth, I knew, lurked utter destruction - - - a living hell even worse than death. I screamed again. The vision faded. I saw the round leaves and the same earthly sky. I struggled to rise. I was trembling; cold perspiration beaded my brow. I had a mad impulse to flee; run insanely from that sinister tree on the hill - - - but I checked the absurd intuition and sat down, trying to collect my senses. Never had I dreamed anything so realistic; so horrifying. What had caused the vision? I had been reading several of Theunis' tones on ancient Egypt . . . . I mopped my forehead, and decided that it was time for lunch. But I did not feel like eating. Then I had an inspiration. I would take a few snapshots of the tree, for Theunis. They might shock him out of his habitual air of unvonvern. Perhaps I would tell him about the dream . . . . Opening my camera, I took half a dozen shots of the tree, and every aspect of the landscape as seen from the tree. Also, I included one of the gleaming, snow-crested peaks. I might want to return, and these photos would help . . . . Folding the camera, I returned to my cushion of soft grass. Had that spot beneath the tree a certain alien enchantment? I know that I was reluctant to leave it . . .
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