And then, as I peered, curiously, a new terror came to me; for away up among the dim peaks to my right, I had descried a vast shape of blackness, giantlike.  It grew upon my sight.  It had an enormous equine head, with gigantic ears, and seemed to peer steadfastly down into the arena.  There was that about the pose that gave me the impression of an eternal watchfulness—­of having warded that dismal place, through unknown eternities.  Slowly, the monster became plainer to me; and then, suddenly, my gaze sprang from it to something further off and higher among the crags.  For a long minute, I gazed, fearfully.  I was strangely conscious of something not altogether unfamiliar—­as though something stirred in the back of my mind.  The thing was black, and had four grotesque arms.  The features showed indistinctly, ’round the neck, I made out several light-colored objects.  Slowly, the details came to me, and I realized, coldly, that they were skulls.  Further down the body was another circling belt, showing less dark against the black trunk.  Then, even as I puzzled to know what the thing was, a memory slid into my mind, and straightway, I knew that I was looking at a monstrous representation of Kali, the Hindu goddess of death.

Other remembrances of my old student days drifted into my thoughts.  My glance fell back upon the huge beast-headed Thing.  Simultaneously, I recognized it for the ancient Egyptian god Set, or Seth, the Destroyer of Souls.  With the knowledge, there came a great sweep of questioning—­’Two of the—!’ I stopped, and endeavored to think.  Things beyond my imagination peered into my frightened mind.  I saw, obscurely.  ‘The old gods of mythology!’ I tried to comprehend to what it was all pointing.  My gaze dwelt, flickeringly, between the two.  ‘If—­’

An idea came swiftly, and I turned, and glanced rapidly upward, searching the gloomy crags, away to my left.  Something loomed out under a great peak, a shape of greyness.  I wondered I had not seen it earlier, and then remembered I had not yet viewed that portion.  I saw it more plainly now.  It was, as I have said, grey.  It had a tremendous head; but no eyes.  That part of its face was blank.

Now, I saw that there were other things up among the mountains.  Further off, reclining on a lofty ledge, I made out a livid mass, irregular and ghoulish.  It seemed without form, save for an unclean, half-animal face, that looked out, vilely, from somewhere about its middle.  And then I saw others—­there were hundreds of them.  They seemed to grow out of the shadows.  Several I recognized almost immediately as mythological deities; others were strange to me, utterly strange, beyond the power of a human mind to conceive.

On each side, I looked, and saw more, continually.  The mountains were full of strange things—­Beast-gods, and Horrors so atrocious and bestial that possibility and decency deny any further attempt to describe them.  And I—­I was filled with a terrible sense of overwhelming horror and fear and repugnance; yet, spite of these, I wondered exceedingly.  Was there then, after all, something in the old heathen worship, something more than the mere deifying of men, animals, and elements?  The thought gripped me—­was there?