was disturbing. It was—eerie. Yes, that's the word. It made that first impression of lifelessness more intense. Not death, you understand. Even death has in it a thought of life, an element of being. But this was just—lifelessness.
"The gray odor had become so strong it was wellnigh unbearable. Then we saw our guides running back to us. They rebelled. They refused to go beyond the line of trees ahead. They said it was tabu.
"That ended it. No promise, no threat, nothing would move them. Do you know what a savage's tabu is? It is stronger than death. And this place was tabu. So we left them there with our stuff, and Sigmund and I went on alone. We reached the farthest line of trees and stopped on the edge of a clearing.
"I can't describe that sight to you. But I can see it—good God, how I can still see it! Sometimes I wake up in the night with that nightmarish picture in my eyes, and my nostrils filled with that ghoulish stench.
"It was a field of gray; almost, I might have said, a field of living gray. And yet, it did not give the impression of life. It moved, although there was not a breath of wind; not a leaf on the trees quivered, but that mass of gray wiggled and crawled and undulated as though it were a huge gray shroud that was thrown over some monstrous jelly-like Thing.
"And that Thing was writhing and twisting. The gray mass extended as far as I could see ahead; to the right the sandy shore of the river stopped it; and to the left and in front of us it terminated at a distance of a few yards away from the trees where a belt of sand intervened.
"I don't know how long we stood there, my friend Von Housmann and I. It fascinated us. At last he spoke.
"'Heilige Mütter. Was kommt da? Vat in der name off all dot iss holy do you call dot? Nefer haf I seen such before. Eferyvere I haf traffeled, but nefer haf I seen a sight lige dot. I tell you, it makes my flesh crawl!'
"'It makes me sick to look at it,' I answered. 'It looks like—like living corruption.'
"The old German shook his head. He was baffled. We knew we were looking upon something that no living mortal had ever gazed upon before. And our flesh crawled, as we watched that Thing writhing beneath its blanket of gray.
"We walked slowly and cautiously across the strip of sand to the edge of the gray patch. As I bent over, the pungency of the odor bit into the membrane of my nostrils like an acid, and my eyes smarted.
"And then I saw something that drove all other thoughts from my mind. The mass was a mosslike growth of tiny gray fungi. They were shaped like miniature mushrooms, but out of the top of each grew a countless number of antennae that twisted and writhed around ceaselessly in the air.
"They seemed to be feeling and groping around for something, and it was this incessant movement that gave to the patch that quivering undulation which I had noticed before. I stared until my eyes ached.
"'What do you make of it,' I asked my friend.
"'Ach, I do not know. It iss incompbrehensible. I haf nefer seen such a—a t'ing in my whole, long life. It iss, I should say, some sort off a fungoid growt'. Ya, it iss clearly dot. But der species—um, dot iss not so clear. Und dose liddle feelers; on a fungus dot iss new. It iss unheard off. See, der veddammte t'ings iss lige lifting fingers; dey svay und tvist lige dey vas feeling for somet'ings, not? I am egseedingly curious. Und, I am baffled—und, my frient, I do not lige dot.'
"Impatiently, he reached out a stick he was carrying a newlycut, stout cudgel of dried wood. He stirred around with it in the growth at his feet. And then a cry broke from his lips.
"'Ach, du lieber Gott—gnadig Gott im Himmel! Sich' da!'
"I looked where he was pointing. His hand trembled violently. And little wonder! The stick, for about twelve inches up, was a mass of gray!
"And as I watched, I saw, steadily growing before my eyes, that awful gray creep up and surround the wood. I'm not exaggerating; I tell you, in less time than it takes to tell, it had almost reached Von Housmann's hand. He threw it from him with an exclamation of horror.
"It fell in the gray growth and instantly vanished. It seemed to melt away."
"SIGMUND looked at me. He was pale. At last he sighed.
"'So-o-o! Ve learn. On vood it grows. I might haf guessed. Dot iss der reason dot no trees are here. It destroys dem. But so schnell; ach, lige fire it growed. My frendt, I lige dot stuff lesser als before. It is not healt'y. But vat vill it not eat?'
"I handed him my rifle. He took it, and with the muzzle poked the growth. Man, my hair fairly stood on end! Do you know anything about fungi? No? Well, I have never known or heard of any vegetable growth that would attack blue steel. But that stuff, I tell you, that rifle barrel sprouted a crop of that gray mass as readily and as quickly as had the wood!
"I grabbed the gun and lifted it out of the patch. Already several inches of steel had been eaten—literally eaten—off. I held it up and watched that damnable gray crawl along the barrel. It just seemed to melt the metal. It melted like sealing wax, and great gray flakes dropped off to the ground.
"Nearer and near it came; to the rear sight, the trigger-guard, the hammer. It was uncanny—like a dream. I stood there, paralyzed. I could not believe what my eyes told me was true. I looked at Sigmund. His mouth was open and his face was white as death. I laughed at his face. That seemed to tear away the mist. He yelled and pointed, and I looked down.
"Not two inches from my hand was that mass. I could see those feelers reaching out toward my hand and I was sick. Instinctively, I threw the gun from me; aimlessly, blindly. It fell on the sand belt outside the gray mass.
"Hardly had it struck the sand before the growth had reached the butt, and then there was nothing to be seen but a tiny patch of that gray, poisonous Thing. And as we looked, it began to melt. Gradually, steadily, it was disappearing.
"'Quick, quick,' shouted Von Housmann, and we ran over to the spot. By bending over, we could see what was happening.
"The feelers, or antennae, which we had noticed before, had vanished, but instead, at the bases of each individual plant, were similar tendrils. But more of them—thousands and thousands of them all feeling and groping frantically about. And as they swayed and twisted and brushed the sand, one by one they shriveled up and seemed to withdraw into the parent body.
"And gradually this nucleus itself shrank and withered, until it was no more than a tiny gray speck on the sand. Soon that was all that was left; a lot of tiny whitish particles, much lighter in color than the original plant, scattered around on the sand.
"I looked at Von Housmann, and he looked at me. After a long interval, he spoke. He spoke slowly, almost as though it were a painful effort.
"'Ant'ony, ve haf seen a—miracle. From vat, or how, or ven, dot hell-growt' sprang, I do not know. I do not know how many, many years it has stood here; may be it has been for centuries.
