I dare say, I had read for a couple of hours, when, suddenly, I heard a sound that made me lower my book, and listen, intently.  It was a noise of something rubbing and fumbling against the back door.  Once the door creaked, loudly; as though force were being applied to it.  During those few, short moments, I experienced an indescribable feeling of terror, such as I should have believed impossible.  My hands shook; a cold sweat broke out on me, and I shivered violently.

Gradually, I calmed.  The stealthy movements outside had ceased.

Then for an hour I sat silent and watchful.  All at once the feeling of fear took me again.  I felt as I imagine an animal must, under the eye of a snake.  Yet now I could hear nothing.  Still, there was no doubting that some unexplained influence was at work.

Gradually, imperceptibly almost, something stole on my ear—­a sound that resolved itself into a faint murmur.  Quickly it developed and grew into a muffled but hideous chorus of bestial shrieks.  It appeared to rise from the bowels of the earth.

I heard a thud, and realized in a dull, half comprehending way that I had dropped my book.  After that, I just sat; and thus the daylight found me, when it crept wanly in through the barred, high windows of the great kitchen.

With the dawning light, the feeling of stupor and fear left me; and I came more into possession of my senses.

Thereupon I picked up my book, and crept to the door to listen.  Not a sound broke the chilly silence.  For some minutes I stood there; then, very gradually and cautiously, I drew back the bolt and opening the door peeped out.

My caution was unneeded.  Nothing was to be seen, save the grey vista of dreary, tangled bushes and trees, extending to the distant plantation.

With a shiver, I closed the door, and made my way, quietly, up to bed.

VI

THE SWINE-THINGS

It was evening, a week later.  My sister sat in the garden, knitting.  I was walking up and down, reading.  My gun leant up against the wall of the house; for, since the advent of that strange thing in the gardens, I had deemed it wise to take precautions.  Yet, through the whole week, there had been nothing to alarm me, either by sight or sound; so that I was able to look back, calmly, to the incident; though still with a sense of unmitigated wonder and curiosity.

I was, as I have just said, walking up and down, and somewhat engrossed in my book.  Suddenly, I heard a crash, away in the direction of the Pit.  With a quick movement, I turned and saw a tremendous column of dust rising high into the evening air.

My sister had risen to her feet, with a sharp exclamation of surprise and fright.

Telling her to stay where she was, I snatched up my gun, and ran toward the Pit.  As I neared it, I heard a dull, rumbling sound, that grew quickly into a roar, split with deeper crashes, and up from the Pit drove a fresh volume of dust.