Tales of Terror and Mystery
The Terror of Blue John Gap
BygoodluckIhadslippedseveralbiscuitsintomypocketbeforeIleftthefarm-house.TheseInowdevoured,andwashedthemdownwithadraughtfromthatwretchedstreamwhichhadbeenthecauseofallmymisfortunes.ThenIfeltaboutforacomfortableseatamongtherocks,and,havingdiscoveredaplacewhereIcouldgetasupportformyback,Istretchedoutmylegsandsettledmyselfdowntowait.Iwaswretchedlydampandcold,butItriedtocheermyselfwiththereflectionthatmodernscienceprescribedopenwindowsandwalksinallweatherformydisease.Gradually,lulledbythemonotonousgurgleofthestream,andbytheabsolutedarkness,Isankintoanuneasyslumber.
HowlongthislastedIcannotsay.Itmayhavebeenforanhour,itmayhavebeenforseveral.SuddenlyIsatuponmyrockcouch,witheverynervethrillingandeverysenseacutelyonthealert.BeyondalldoubtIhadheardasound—somesoundverydistinctfromthegurglingofthewaters.Ithadpassed,butthereverberationofitstilllingeredinmyear.Wasitasearchparty?Theywouldmostcertainlyhaveshouted,andvagueasthissoundwaswhichhadwakenedme,itwasverydistinctfromthehumanvoice.Isatpalpitatingandhardlydaringtobreathe.Thereitwasagain!Andagain!Nowithadbecomecontinuous.Itwasatread—yes,surelyitwasthetreadofsomelivingcreature.Butwhatatreaditwas!Itgaveonetheimpressionofenormousweightcarrieduponsponge-likefeet,whichgaveforthamuffledbutear-fillingsound.Thedarknesswasascompleteasever,butthetreadwasregularanddecisive.