Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 84: what you’re looking at

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

82 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION mountain. He was sure-footed and agile and he found hand- and foot- holds in impossible places. He climbed higher and higher, staring resolutely at the sheer wall before him. Presently he paused to rest. He looked down then, and on the slope far below he saw another man. Uncontrollable hatred suffused him. He looked wildly about him for a weapon—a rock, a Stone, even a stick—anything at all to hurl down on the man below him. But the face of the mountain was utterly bleak and offered him nothing. Before resuming his climb the man glanced upwards. The mountain spired mto the sky. The sun glittered coldly on its smooth polished surface. It had no ledges where a man could pause to rest; it was an endless obelisk, a perpendicular eternity. The man began climbing again. Frantically desperately— An old man with a decayed face Shuffied past the entrance. Ghan probed again— He was descending a rotting stair- way into a noisome pit. (Total identi- fication with the subject was possible after one or two probes.) There was a scurrying of furry creatures about his legs and a constant obscene squeaking. He didn’t want to descend the stair- way; the thought of what awaited him below filled him with unspeakable terror; and yet he continued to descend, down, down, ever downward, and there were cold slimy creatures intertwining about his legs now, and abruptly there was a cracking sound as one of the steps gave way, and he Staggered and he almost fell into the loathsome Stygian depths— A woman passed— After the stair- way the warm spacious room seemed tranquil and secure. But not for long. Presently he noticed a twisted scar disfiguring one of the rose walls, and fleeing from the scar towards a vague doorway he nearly stepped into a ragged crevice that yawned without warning in the blood-red rug. He managed somehow to avoid the crev- ice, but when he looked for the doorway again it was gone— A young man walked briskly by— Another mountain, a gentle mountain this time. The lower slopes were green with grass and the forested upper slopes slanted leisurely into a blue and cloudless sky. It was morning and a summer sun warmed his back. There were three women following him. Occasionally he paused in his ascent and glanced back at them. The first one had dark disheveled hair, and long graceful legs. But she had no face. The second one was half chimera, half reality. Most of the time she was - a gray silhouette, but sometimes the silhouette resolved into a voluptuous body and a trite, pretty face. The third one was a_ tenuous shadow— It was dawn when Ghan returned to the summerhouse. He sat on the bench for a long time, staring through the interstices of the latticed roof at the sky. The sky was gray at first, but after a while the grayness softened subtly to pink, and then to a washed blue. Finally the first pale rays of the sun brimmed over a scalloped rim of hills and streamed across the fields. He heard voices then, and caught vague thought patterns. Presently three figures came round the corner of the barn and approached the summer- house. One of them was the little girl who had run away the preceding day. The other two were adults: a thin, pale woman, and a tall man carrying a double barreled shotgun. “There, you see!” the little girl said, as they stopped before the door- way. “Now you've got to believe me!”’ connicloooks.c© nn)