Avon Fantasy Reader No. 12 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

only direction by which retreat was possible. I retreated from those cat-things. In this fashion I came at last to the shaft, and there I saw the tools which I had left at the end of my day’s toil. Looking around me, I saw also, with such a pang of horror as I cannot hope to convey to you, that the ring of green eyes was now unbroken about me. And it was closing in. : Nameless feline creatures were crowding silently to the edge of the pit, some preparing to e este down upon me where I stood. A voice seemed to speak in my brain; it spoke of capitulation, telling me to accept defeat lest, resisting, my fate be the fate of Condor. Peals of shrill laughter rose upon the silence. The laughter was mine. Filling the mee with this hideous, hysterical merriment, I was working feverishly with pick and with shovel filling in the shaft. The end? The end is that I awoke, in the morning, lying, not on my bed, but outside on the plateau, my hands torn and bleeding and every muscle in my body throbbing agonizingly. Remembering my dream--for even in that moment of awakening I thought I had dreamed—I staggered across to the valley of the excavation. Condor’s shaft was reclosed to the top. comicbooks.com