Yet all this was only the prologue1 of the actual Dunwich horror. Formalities were gone through by bewildered officials, abnormal details were duly kept from press and public, and men were sent to Dunwich and Aylesbury to look up property and notify any who might be heirs of the late Wilbur Whateley. They found the countryside in great agitation2, both because of the growing rumblings beneath the domed3 hills, and because of the unwonted stench and the surging, lapping sounds which came increasingly from the great empty shell formed by Whateley’s boarded-up farmhouse4. Earl Sawyer, who tended the horse and cattle during Wilbur’s absence, had developed a woefully acute case of nerves. The officials devised excuses not to enter the noisome6 boarded place; and were glad to confine their survey of the deceased’s living quarters, the newly mended sheds, to a single visit. They filed a ponderous7 report at the courthouse in Aylesbury, and litigations concerning heirship8 are said to be still in progress amongst the innumerable Whateleys, decayed and undecayed, of the upper Miskatonic valley.
An almost interminable manuscript in strange characters, written in a huge ledger9 and adjudged a sort of diary because of the spacing and the variations in ink and penmanship, presented a baffling puzzle to those who found it on the old bureau which served as its owner’s desk. After a week of debate it was sent to Miskatonic University, together with the deceased’s collection of strange books, for study and possible translation; but even the best linguists10 soon saw that it was not likely to be unriddled with ease. No trace of the ancient gold with which Wilbur and Old Whateley had always paid their debts has yet been discovered.
It was in the dark of September ninth that the horror broke loose. The hill noises had been very pronounced during the evening, and dogs barked frantically11 all night. Early risers on the tenth noticed a peculiar12 stench in the air. About seven o’clock Luther Brown, the hired boy at George Corey’s, between Cold Spring Glen and the village, rushed frenziedly back from his morning trip to Ten–Acre Meadow with the cows. He was almost convulsed with fright as he stumbled into the kitchen; and in the yard outside the no less frightened herd13 were pawing and lowing pitifully, having followed the boy back in the panic they shared with him. Between gasps14 Luther tried to stammer15 out his tale to Mrs Corey.
‘Up thar in the rud beyont the glen, Mis’ Corey — they’s suthin’ ben thar! It smells like thunder, an’ all the bushes an’ little trees is pushed back from the rud like they’d a haouse ben moved along of it. An’ that ain’t the wust, nuther. They’s prints in the rud, Mis’ Corey — great raound prints as big as barrel-heads, all sunk dawon deep like a elephant had ben along, only they’s a sight more nor four feet could make! I looked at one or two afore I run, an’ I see every one was covered with lines spreadin’ aout from one place, like as if big palm-leaf fans — twict or three times as big as any they is — hed of ben paounded dawon into the rud. An’ the smell was awful, like what it is around Wizard Whateley’s ol’ haouse . . . ’
Here he faltered16, and seemed to shiver afresh with the fright that had sent him flying home. Mrs Corey, unable to extract more information, began telephoning the neighbours; thus starting on its rounds the overture17 of panic that heralded18 the major terrors. When she got Sally Sawyer, housekeeper19 at Seth Bishop20’s, the nearest place to Whateley’s, it became her turn to listen instead of transmit; for Sally’s boy Chauncey, who slept poorly, had been up on the hill towards Whateley’s, and had dashed back in terror after one look at the place, and at the pasturage where Mr Bishop’s cows had been left out all night.
‘Yes, Mis’ Corey,’ came Sally’s tremulous voice over the party wire, ‘Cha’ncey he just come back a-postin’, and couldn’t half talk fer bein’ scairt! He says Ol’ Whateley’s house is all bowed up, with timbers scattered22 raound like they’d ben dynamite23 inside; only the bottom floor ain’t through, but is all covered with a kind o’ tar-like stuff that smells awful an’ drips daown offen the aidges onto the graoun’ whar the side timbers is blowed away. An’ they’s awful kinder marks in the yard, tew — great raound marks bigger raound than a hogshead, an’ all sticky with stuff like is on the browed-up haouse. Cha’ncey he says they leads off into the medders, whar a great swath wider’n a barn is matted daown, an’ all the stun25 walls tumbled every whichway wherever it goes.
‘An’ he says, says he, Mis’ Corey, as haow he sot to look fer Seth’s caows, frightened ez he was an’ faound ’em in the upper pasture nigh the Devil’s Hop21 Yard in an awful shape. Haff on ’em’s clean gone, an’ nigh haff o’ them that’s left is sucked most dry o’ blood, with sores on ’em like they’s ben on Whateleys cattle ever senct Lavinny’s black brat26 was born. Seth hes gone aout naow to look at ’em, though I’ll vaow he won’t keer ter git very nigh Wizard Whateley’s! Cha’ncey didn’t look keerful ter see whar the big matted-daown swath led arter it leff the pasturage, but he says he thinks it p’inted towards the glen rud to the village.
‘I tell ye, Mis’ Corey, they’s suthin’ abroad as hadn’t orter be abroad, an’ I for one think that black Wilbur Whateley, as come to the bad end he deserved, is at the bottom of the breedin’ of it. He wa’n’t all human hisself, I allus says to everybody; an’ I think he an’ Ol’ Whateley must a raised suthin’ in that there nailed-up haouse as ain’t even so human as he was. They’s allus ben unseen things araound Dunwich — livin’ things — as ain’t human an’ ain’t good fer human folks.
‘The graoun’ was a-talkin’ las’ night, an’ towards mornin’ Cha’ncey he heered the whippoorwills so laoud in Col’ Spring Glen he couldn’t sleep nun27. Then he thought he heered another faint-like saound over towards Wizard Whateley’s — a kinder rippin’ or tearin’ o’ wood, like some big box er crate28 was bein’ opened fur off. What with this an’ that, he didn’t git to sleep at all till sunup, an’ no sooner was he up this mornin’, but he’s got to go over to Whateley’s an’ see what’s the matter. He see enough I tell ye, Mis’ Corey! This dun’t mean no good, an’ I think as all the men-folks ought to git up a party an’ do suthin’. I know suthin’ awful’s abaout, an’ feel my time is nigh, though only Gawd knows jest what it is.
‘Did your Luther take accaount o’ whar them big tracks led tew? No? Wal, Mis’ Corey, ef they was on the glen rud this side o’ the glen, an’ ain’t got to your haouse yet, I calc’late they must go into the glen itself. They would do that. I allus says Col’ Spring Glen ain’t no healthy nor decent place. The whippoorwills an’ fireflies there never did act like they was creaters o’ Gawd, an’ they’s them as says ye kin24 hear strange things a-rushin’ an’ a-talkin’ in the air dawon thar ef ye stand in the right place, atween the rock falls an’ Bear’s Den29.’
By that noon fully5 three-quarters of the men and boys of Dunwich were trooping over the roads and meadows between the newmade Whateley ruins and Cold Spring Glen, examining in horror the vast, monstrous30 prints, the maimed Bishop cattle, the strange, noisome wreck31 of the farmhouse, and the bruised32, matted vegetation of the fields and roadside. Whatever had burst loose upon the world had assuredly gone down into the great sinister33 ravine; for all the trees on the banks were bent34 and broken, and a great avenue had been gouged35 in the precipice-hanging underbrush. It was as though a house, launched by an avalanche36, had slid down through the tangled37 growths of the almost vertical38 slope. From below no sound came, but only a distant, undefinable foetor; and it is not to be wondered at that the men preferred to stay on the edge and argue, rather than descend39 and beard the unknown Cyclopean horror in its lair40. Three dogs that were with the party had barked furiously at first, but seemed cowed and reluctant when near the glen. Someone telephoned the news to the Aylesbury Transcript41; but the editor, accustomed to wild tales from Dunwich, did no more than concoct42 a humorous paragraph about it; an item soon afterwards reproduced by the Associated Press.
That night everyone went home, and every house and barn was barricaded43 as stoutly44 as possible. Needless to say, no cattle were allowed to remain in open pasturage. About two in the morning a frightful45 stench and the savage46 barking of the dogs awakened47 the household at Elmer Frye’s, on the eastern edge of Cold Spring Glen, and all agreed that they could hear a sort of muffled48 swishing or lapping sound from somewhere outside. Mrs Frye proposed telephoning the neighbours, and Elmer was about to agree when the noise of splintering wood burst in upon their deliberations. It came, apparently49, from the barn; and was quickly followed by a hideous50 screaming and stamping amongst the cattle. The dogs slavered and crouched51 close to the feet of the fear-numbed family. Frye lit a lantern through force of habit, but knew it would be death to go out into that black farmyard. The children and the women-folk whimpered, kept from screaming by some obscure, vestigial instinct of defence which told them their lives depended on silence. At last the noise of the cattle subsided52 to a pitiful moaning, and a great snapping, crashing, and crackling ensued. The Fryes, huddled53 together in the sitting-room54, did not dare to move until the last echoes died away far down in Cold Spring Glen. Then, amidst the dismal55 moans from the stable and the daemoniac piping of the late whippoorwills in the glen, Selina Frye tottered56 to the telephone and spread what news she could of the second phase of the horror.
The next day all the countryside was in a panic; and cowed, uncommunicative groups came and went where the fiendish thing had occurred. Two titan swaths of destruction stretched from the glen to the Frye farmyard, monstrous prints covered the bare patches of ground, and one side of the old red barn had completely caved in. Of the cattle, only a quarter could be found and identified. Some of these were in curious fragments, and all that survived had to be shot. Earl Sawyer suggested that help be asked from Aylesbury or Arkham, but others maintained it would be of no use. Old Zebulon Whateley, of a branch that hovered57 about halfway58 between soundness and decadence59, made darkly wild suggestions about rites60 that ought to be practiced on the hill-tops. He came of a line where tradition ran strong, and his memories of chantings in the great stone circles were not altogether connected with Wilbur and his grandfather.
Darkness fell upon a stricken countryside too passive to organize for real defence. In a few cases closely related families would band together and watch in the gloom under one roof; but in general there was only a repetition of the barricading61 of the night before, and a futile62, ineffective gesture of loading muskets63 and setting pitchforks handily about. Nothing, however, occurred except some hill noises; and when the day came there were many who hoped that the new horror had gone as swiftly as it had come. There were even bold souls who proposed an offensive expedition down in the glen, though they did not venture to set an actual example to the still reluctant majority.
When night came again the barricading was repeated, though there was less huddling64 together of families. In the morning both the Frye and the Seth Bishop households reported excitement among the dogs and vague sounds and stenches from afar, while early explorers noted65 with horror a fresh set of the monstrous tracks in the road skirting Sentinel Hill. As before, the sides of the road showed a bruising66 indicative of the blasphemously67 stupendous bulk of the horror; whilst the conformation of the tracks seemed to argue a passage in two directions, as if the moving mountain had come from Cold Spring Glen and returned to it along the same path. At the base of the hill a thirty-foot swath of crushed shrubbery saplings led steeply upwards68, and the seekers gasped69 when they saw that even the most perpendicular70 places did not deflect71 the inexorable trail. Whatever the horror was, it could scale a sheer stony72 cliff of almost complete verticality73; and as the investigators74 climbed round to the hill’s summit by safer routes they saw that the trail ended — or rather, reversed — there.
It was here that the Whateleys used to build their hellish fires and chant their hellish rituals by the table-like stone on May Eve and Hallowmass. Now that very stone formed the centre of a vast space thrashed around by the mountainous horror, whilst upon its slightly concave surface was a thick and foetid deposit of the same tarry stickiness observed on the floor of the ruined Whateley farmhouse when the horror escaped. Men looked at one another and muttered. Then they looked down the hill. Apparently the horror had descended75 by a route much the same as that of its ascent76. To speculate was futile. Reason, logic77, and normal ideas of motivation stood confounded. Only old Zebulon, who was not with the group, could have done justice to the situation or suggested a plausible78 explanation.
Thursday night began much like the others, but it ended less happily. The whippoorwills in the glen had screamed with such unusual persistence79 that many could not sleep, and about 3 A.M. all the party telephones rang tremulously. Those who took down their receivers heard a fright-mad voice shriek80 out, ‘Help, oh, my Gawd! . . . ’ and some thought a crashing sound followed the breaking off of the exclamation81. There was nothing more. No one dared do anything, and no one knew till morning whence the call came. Then those who had heard it called everyone on the line, and found that only the Fryes did not reply. The truth appeared an hour later, when a hastily assembled group of armed men trudged82 out to the Frye place at the head of the glen. It was horrible, yet hardly a surprise. There were more swaths and monstrous prints, but there was no longer any house. It had caved in like an egg-shell, and amongst the ruins nothing living or dead could be discovered. Only a stench and a tarry stickiness. The Elmer Fryes had been erased83 from Dunwich.


1
prologue
![]() |
|
n.开场白,序言;开端,序幕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2
agitation
![]() |
|
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3
domed
![]() |
|
adj. 圆屋顶的, 半球形的, 拱曲的 动词dome的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4
farmhouse
![]() |
|
n.农场住宅(尤指主要住房) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5
fully
![]() |
|
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6
noisome
![]() |
|
adj.有害的,可厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7
ponderous
![]() |
|
adj.沉重的,笨重的,(文章)冗长的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8
heirship
![]() |
|
n.继承权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9
ledger
![]() |
|
n.总帐,分类帐;帐簿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10
linguists
![]() |
|
n.通晓数国语言的人( linguist的名词复数 );语言学家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11
frantically
![]() |
|
ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12
peculiar
![]() |
|
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13
herd
![]() |
|
n.兽群,牧群;vt.使集中,把…赶在一起 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14
gasps
![]() |
|
v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15
stammer
![]() |
|
n.结巴,口吃;v.结结巴巴地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16
faltered
![]() |
|
(嗓音)颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 ); 支吾其词; 蹒跚; 摇晃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17
overture
![]() |
|
n.前奏曲、序曲,提议,提案,初步交涉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18
heralded
![]() |
|
v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 );宣布(好或重要) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19
housekeeper
![]() |
|
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20
bishop
![]() |
|
n.主教,(国际象棋)象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21
hop
![]() |
|
n.单脚跳,跳跃;vi.单脚跳,跳跃;着手做某事;vt.跳跃,跃过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22
scattered
![]() |
|
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23
dynamite
![]() |
|
n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24
kin
![]() |
|
n.家族,亲属,血缘关系;adj.亲属关系的,同类的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25
stun
![]() |
|
vt.打昏,使昏迷,使震惊,使惊叹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26
brat
![]() |
|
n.孩子;顽童 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27
nun
![]() |
|
n.修女,尼姑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28
crate
![]() |
|
vt.(up)把…装入箱中;n.板条箱,装货箱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29
den
![]() |
|
n.兽穴;秘密地方;安静的小房间,私室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30
monstrous
![]() |
|
adj.巨大的;恐怖的;可耻的,丢脸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31
wreck
![]() |
|
n.失事,遇难;沉船;vt.(船等)失事,遇难 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32
bruised
![]() |
|
[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33
sinister
![]() |
|
adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34
bent
![]() |
|
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35
gouged
![]() |
|
v.凿( gouge的过去式和过去分词 );乱要价;(在…中)抠出…;挖出… | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36
avalanche
![]() |
|
n.雪崩,大量涌来 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37
tangled
![]() |
|
adj. 纠缠的,紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38
vertical
![]() |
|
adj.垂直的,顶点的,纵向的;n.垂直物,垂直的位置 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39
descend
![]() |
|
vt./vi.传下来,下来,下降 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40
lair
![]() |
|
n.野兽的巢穴;躲藏处 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41
transcript
![]() |
|
n.抄本,誊本,副本,肄业证书 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42
concoct
![]() |
|
v.调合,制造 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43
barricaded
![]() |
|
设路障于,以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 ); 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44
stoutly
![]() |
|
adv.牢固地,粗壮的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45
frightful
![]() |
|
adj.可怕的;讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46
savage
![]() |
|
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47
awakened
![]() |
|
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48
muffled
![]() |
|
adj.(声音)被隔的;听不太清的;(衣服)裹严的;蒙住的v.压抑,捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 );用厚厚的衣帽包着(自己) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49
apparently
![]() |
|
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50
hideous
![]() |
|
adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51
crouched
![]() |
|
v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52
subsided
![]() |
|
v.(土地)下陷(因在地下采矿)( subside的过去式和过去分词 );减弱;下降至较低或正常水平;一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53
huddled
![]() |
|
挤在一起(huddle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54
sitting-room
![]() |
|
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55
dismal
![]() |
|
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56
tottered
![]() |
|
v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 );踉跄;蹒跚;摇摇欲坠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57
hovered
![]() |
|
鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 ); 靠近(某事物); (人)徘徊; 犹豫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58
halfway
![]() |
|
adj.中途的,不彻底的,部分的;adv.半路地,在中途,在半途 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59
decadence
![]() |
|
n.衰落,颓废 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60
rites
![]() |
|
仪式,典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61
barricading
![]() |
|
设路障于,以障碍物阻塞( barricade的现在分词 ); 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62
futile
![]() |
|
adj.无效的,无用的,无希望的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63
muskets
![]() |
|
n.火枪,(尤指)滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64
huddling
![]() |
|
n. 杂乱一团, 混乱, 拥挤 v. 推挤, 乱堆, 草率了事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65
noted
![]() |
|
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66
bruising
![]() |
|
adj.殊死的;十分激烈的v.擦伤(bruise的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67
blasphemously
![]() |
|
参考例句: |
|
|
68
upwards
![]() |
|
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69
gasped
![]() |
|
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70
perpendicular
![]() |
|
adj.垂直的,直立的;n.垂直线,垂直的位置 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71
deflect
![]() |
|
v.(使)偏斜,(使)偏离,(使)转向 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72
stony
![]() |
|
adj.石头的,多石头的,冷酷的,无情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73
verticality
![]() |
|
垂直性,垂直状态; 垂直度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74
investigators
![]() |
|
n.调查者,审查者( investigator的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75
descended
![]() |
|
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76
ascent
![]() |
|
n.(声望或地位)提高;上升,升高;登高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77
logic
![]() |
|
n.逻辑(学);逻辑性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78
plausible
![]() |
|
adj.似真实的,似乎有理的,似乎可信的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79
persistence
![]() |
|
n.坚持,持续,存留 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80
shriek
![]() |
|
v./n.尖叫,叫喊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81
exclamation
![]() |
|
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82
trudged
![]() |
|
vt.& vi.跋涉,吃力地走(trudge的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83
erased
![]() |
|
v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 );抹去;清除 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |