A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, February 1950 — page 37: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE SMOKING LAND ‘ ies ya sers ) RaSh Paee at AN x iS Ort THE Wot taut es te TRANS EU eld h ut a Nai s a 3h (Kh hata, re Whee . hese Diao % ev, ay ’ > €ehos a ate) My Ss SB «Par Bees Rey ows ere DS.ge ) wns. r Ba seAN es m) : SOSA SS dee TE MANS oA =Ncaat= ee a > SS AL Pee . 7 _* ~ ~ 5 ME 6 Sy ee rate, it was then that I knew I was blow- ing upon a lee shore! CHAPTER 10 The Running Dog ES, it was what my heart had al- ways known it would be—as like a thing once actually seen, and re- membered out of childhood—a vision that did not shrink at the touch of reality. Rather, it grew greater and greater, ex- panding, heightening; sprang beyond my sight to the right hand and to the left, and lifted into iron peaks, from the broken top of the highest of which, half seen, a dark mist rolled forth upon the wind. It was the Smoking Land! Now, I am not ordinarily very emo- tional; and to this day I can hardly im- agine myself doing what I know I did then. I dropped upon my knees, and put up my hands like a, child, and thanked God. For there it was, clearer than my 37 -) RONAN ce 4 Seng Ana Syeuli ye eri POV Ura iehd af LA SAO aes PES ent y) Vek AVY ur . NEA tae Apes errata ‘” eae, : Ny Mi ry CONT LER Os AORN a> iy \ he o ‘py! Me ast y x } N ist wee ‘ } . oad tN BNO Ae aie) A CN wALl YY. Paty SiN tty: : ‘ STRAPON ET Mit,’ i t ‘y ‘ oh aes ea sein pastes % + ET Mag sag v4 . oa AALS At) RET nA 7, Ade ’ Le tegg ARNIS 7 gicesefehiti Pl i 6. 23 dream. And in it, I told myself, was Cleve- land Darrell—“ bound north of Alaska for the Smoking Land and—” And—what? Well, perhaps I should find that out, also, and what power or powers had snatched him away to this end of the world, Now, at the very time that I saw the end of my long labor before me and the goal under the touch of my eyes, at that very moment my thankfulness, my grati- tude, my joy washed out of me in a single breath. For I’ve mentioned that I was blown on a mere ragged fragment of ice, making with a swift current towards a lee shore. To right and to left the cliffs came out, vast and sheer, gleaming and adrip with ice and the dull twilight. And to my right and left the cliffs stood forth, while I drove on my staggering sheet of ice straight into the hollow maw of a bay. To have aimed at the solid wall of the CORNICE OOO© S EO