Argosy, Vol. 122, No. 1 — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

o6 habits, but they knew one or two things. The most important was that the snare- spiders never left their lairs to hunt— never! Burl was about to make a daring application of that knowledge. He drew back from the white and shin- ing snare and crept softly to the rear. The fabric gathered itself into a point and then continued for some twenty feet as a tunnel, in which the spider waited while dreaming of its last meal and waiting for the next victim to become entangled in the laby- rinth in front. Burl made his way to a point where the tunnel was no more than ten feet away, and waited. Presently, through the interstices of the silk, he saw the gray bulk of the spider. It had left the exhausted body of the crick- et, and returned to its resting-place. It settled itself carefully upon the soft walls of the tunnel, with its shining eyes fixed upon the tortuous threads of its trap. Burl’s hair was standing straight up upon his head from sheer fright, but he was the slave of an idea. He drew near and poised his spear, his new and sharp spear, taken from the body of an unknown flying creature killed by the burning purple hills. Burl raised the spear and aimed its sharp and deadly point at the thick gray bulk he could see dimly through the threads of the tunnel. He thrust it home with all his strength—and ran away at the top of his speed, glassy-eyed from terror. , A long time later he ventured near again, his heart in his mouth, ready to flee at the slightest sound. All was still. Burl had missed the horrible convulsions of the wounded spider, had not heard the frightful gnashings of its fangs as it gnashed at the piercing weapon, had not seen the silken threads of the tunnel ripped and torn as the spider—hurt to death—had struggled with insane strength to free itself. He came back beneath the overshadow- ing toadstools, stepping quietly and cau- tiously, to find a great rent in the silken tunnel, to find the great gray bulk lifeless and still, half-fallen through the opening the spear had first made. A little puddle of evil-smelling liquid lay upon the ground below the body, and from time to time a THE ARGOSY. droplet fell from the spear into the puddle with a curious splash. Burl looked at what he had done, saw the dead body of the creature he had slain, saw the ferocious mandibles, and the keen and deadly fangs. The dead eyes of the creature still stared at him. malignantly, and the hairy legs were still braced as if further to enlarge the gaping hole through which it had partly fallen. Exultation filled Burl’s heart. His tribe had been but furtive vermin for thousands of years, fleeing from the mighty insects, hiding from them, and if overtaken but waiting helplessly for death, screaming shrilly in terror. He, Burl, had turned the tables. He had slain one of the enemies of his tribe. His breast expanded. Always his’ tribesmen went quietly and fearfully, making no sound. But a sudden, exultant yell burst from Burl’s lips—the first hunting cry from the lips of a man in a hundred centuries! The next second his pulse nearly stopped in sheer panic at having made such a noise. He listened fearfully, but there was no sound. He drew near his prey and care- fully withdrew his spear. The viscid liquid made it slimy and slippery, and he had to wipe it dry against a leathery toad- stool. Then Burl had to conquer his il- logical fear again before daring to touch the creature he had slain. He moved off presently, with the belly of the spider upon his back and two of the hairy legs over his shoulders. The other limbs of the monster hung limp, and trailed upon the ground. Burl was now a still more curious sight as a gayly colored ob- ject with a cloak shining in iridescent col- ors, the golden antenne of a great moth rising from his forehead, and the hideous bulk of a gray spider for a burden. He moved through the _ thin-stalked mushroom forest, and because of the thing he carried all creatures fled before him. They did not fear man—their instinct was slow-moving—but during all the millions of years that insects have existed, there have existed spiders to prey upon them. So Burl moved on in solemn state, a brightly clad man bent beneath the weight of a huge and horrible monster. cComiclbooks.com