“The Beast In The "Cave”

This story wasn't published until after the other two, but it was actually written the earliest: Lovecraft claimed to have finished some version of the story in 1905, when he was just fifteen.

After his apparent success in United Amateur, the editor of another amateur fiction periodical - the Vagrant - contacted Lovecraft and invited him to submit something. While Lovecraft continued to write for United Amateur for some years, he was concurrently published by The Vagrant as well and even served as assistant editor for a brief time.

It seems likely to me that Lovecraft dug out this old story of his when approached by the Vagrant's editor, so that he would have something to give them on short notice.

Once again, this is untreaded ground for me. Let's see if fifteen year old Lovecraft can outwrite Christopher Paolini; my money is on "yes," but we'll find out.

“The horrible conclusion which had been gradually obtruding itself upon my confused and reluctant mind was now an awful certainty. I was lost, completely, hopelessly lost in the vast and labyrinthine recesses of the Mammoth Cave. Turn as I might, in no direction could my straining vision seize on any object capable of serving as a guidepost to set me on the outward path. That nevermore should I behold the blessed light of day, or scan the pleasant hills and dales of the beautiful world outside, my reason could no longer entertain the slightest unbelief. Hope had departed. Yet, indoctrinated as I was by a life of philosophical study, I derived no small measure of satisfaction from my unimpassioned demeanour; for although I had frequently read of the wild frenzies into which were thrown the victims of similar situations, I experienced none of these, but stood quiet as soon as I clearly realised the loss of my bearings.

Nor did the thought that I had probably wandered beyond the utmost limits of an ordinary search cause me to abandon my composure even for a moment. If I must die, I reflected, then was this terrible yet majestic cavern as welcome a sepulchre as that which any churchyard might afford; a conception which carried with it more of tranquility than of despair.

Starving would prove my ultimate fate; of this I was certain. Some, I knew, had gone mad under circumstances such as these, but I felt that this end would not be mine. My disaster was the result of no fault save my own, since unbeknown to the guide I had separated myself from the regular party of sightseers; and, wandering for over an hour in forbidden avenues of the cave, had found myself unable to retrace the devious windings which I had pursued since forsaking my companions.”

If "The Alchemist" leaned a little too heavily on the Edgar Allan Poe inspiration, then this one takes it to the extremes of…well, of a high schooler. The obsession with caves and darkness, the in media res opening, hell he shoehorned the word "nevermore" into a passage where it wasn't even grammatically correct! The prose is not nearlyas tight as "Alchemist’s" either. I attribute this both to Lovecraft being younger, and - perhaps as a consequence of the above - parroting Poe and other authors instead of using his own organic style.

Anyway, tourist wandered off from the group and got lost in Mammoth Cave, Kentucky. This is Lovecraft, so there might be actual mammoths inhabiting this version of the place.

“Already my torch had begun to expire; soon I would be enveloped by the total and almost palpable blackness of the bowels of the earth. As I stood in the waning, unsteady light, I idly wondered over the exact circumstances of my coming end. I remembered the accounts which I had heard of the colony of consumptives, who, taking their residence in this gigantic grotto to find health from the apparently salubrious air of the underground world, with its steady, uniform temperature, pure air, and peaceful quiet, had found, instead, death in strange and ghastly form. I had seen the sad remains of their ill-made cottages as I passed them by with the party, and had wondered what unnatural influence a long sojourn in this immense and silent cavern would exert upon one as healthy and as vigorous as I. Now, I grimly told myself, my opportunity for settling this point had arrived, provided that want of food should not bring me too speedy a departure from this life.”

So this cave also had a leper colony in it once. I hope for your sake that the germs are all long dead, Mr. John Doe.

Pretty sure this was never actually a thing, but it’s plausible that some desperate 18-19th century plague victims might have tried it in one American cave system or another.

“As the last fitful rays of my torch faded into obscurity, I resolved to leave no stone unturned, no possible means of escape neglected; so summoning all the powers possessed by my lungs, I set up a series of loud shoutings, in the vain hope of attracting the attention of the guide by my clamour. Yet, as I called, I believed in my heart that my cries were to no purpose, and that my voice, magnified and reflected by the numberless ramparts of the black maze about me, fell upon no ears save my own. All at once, however, my attention was fixed with a start as I fancied that I heard the sound of soft approaching steps on the rocky floor of the cavern. Was my deliverance about to be accomplished so soon? Had, then, all my horrible apprehensions been for naught, and was the guide, having marked my unwarranted absence from the party, following my course and seeking me out in this limestone labyrinth? Whilst these joyful queries arose in my brain, I was on the point of renewing my cries, in order that my discovery might come the sooner, when in an instant my delight was turned to horror as I listened; for my ever acute ear, now sharpened in even greater degree by the complete silence of the cave, bore to my benumbed understanding the unexpected and dreadful knowledge that these footfalls were not like those of any mortal man. In the unearthly stillness of this subterranean region, the tread of the booted guide would have sounded like a series of sharp and incisive blows. These impacts were soft, and stealthy, as of the padded paws of some feline. Besides, at times, when I listened carefully, I seemed to trace the falls of four instead of two feet.”

This might just be the most melodramatic paragraph I've ever read. First the tryhard emotional roller coaster - written in a garish purple - of O NO I LOST turning into O YAY I FIND. Then there's the "hope turning to horror" because the approaching footprints are...quadrupedal.

What the hell is wrong with this version of Kentucky that you’d assume any four-legged animal in it is going to attack you? Why would you specify "no mortal man" when the creature is probably a mortal mountain goat or fox? Is this set in a world where the only quadrupeds are immortal demons or something?

Once again, I feel like this suffers from a misapplication of Edgar Alan Poe phrasing, of the kind only a teenager could make.

“I was now convinced that I had by my cries aroused and attracted some wild beast, perhaps a mountain lion which had accidentally strayed within the cave. Perhaps, I considered, the Almighty had chosen for me a swifter and more merciful death than that of hunger.”

Ah, a divine mountain lion. That explains it nicely.

“Yet the instinct of self-preservation, never wholly dormant, was stirred in my breast, and though escape from the oncoming peril might but spare me for a sterner and more lingering end, I determined nevertheless to part with my life at as high a price as I could command. Strange as it may seem, my mind conceived of no intent on the part of the visitor save that of hostility.”

"Strange" is right. Even if it is something dangerous like a mountain lion or a bear or whatever, it’s not guaranteed to attack you just because you're in its way. Predatory mammals are famously unpredictable; most are as likely to ignore or run away from you as they are to attack.

It is noteworthy that Lovecraft calls attention to how irrational the narrator is being, though. Maybe this story is going to have a moral?

“Accordingly, I became very quiet, in the hope that the unknown beast would, in the absence of a guiding sound, lose its direction as had I, and thus pass me by. But this hope was not destined for realisation, for the strange footfalls steadily advanced, the animal evidently having obtained my scent, which in an atmosphere so absolutely free from all distracting influences as is that of the cave, could doubtless be followed at great distance.

Seeing therefore that I must be armed for defence against an uncanny and unseen attack in the dark, I grouped about me the largest of the fragments of rock which were strown upon all parts of the floor of the cavern in the vicinity, and, grasping one in each hand for immediate use, awaited with resignation the inevitable result. Meanwhile the hideous pattering of the paws drew near.”

He specifies "paws" now instead of the more general "feet." Does he hear the difference now that its closer, or is he just pulling this detail out of his ass?

I should also point out that pawed animals don't tend to make much noise at all unless they're walking on leaves or twigs or something. Lovecraft's indoorsy urban lifestyle is showing.

“Certainly, the conduct of the creature was exceedingly strange. Most of the time, the tread seemed to be that of a quadruped, walking with a singular lack of unison betwixt hind and fore feet, yet at brief and infrequent intervals I fancied that but two feet were engaged in the process of locomotion. I wondered what species of animal was to confront me; it must, I thought, be some unfortunate beast who had paid for its curiosity to investigate one of the entrances of the fearful grotto with a lifelong confinement in its interminable recesses. It doubtless obtained as food the eyeless fish, bats, and rats of the cave, as well as some of the ordinary fish that are wafted in at every freshet of Green River, which communicates in some occult manner with the waters of the cave. I occupied my terrible vigil with grotesque conjectures of what alterations cave life might have wrought in the physical structure of the beast, remembering the awful appearances ascribed by local tradition to the consumptives who had died after long residence in the cavern. Then I remembered with a start that, even should I succeed in killing my antagonist, I should never behold its form, as my torch had long since been extinct, and I was entirely unprovided with matches. The tension on my brain now became frightful. My disordered fancy conjured up hideous and fearsome shapes from the sinister darkness that surrounded me, and that actually seemed to press upon my body. Nearer, nearer, the dreadful footfalls approached. It seemed that I must give vent to a piercing scream, yet had I been sufficiently irresolute to attempt such a thing, my voice could scarce have responded. I was petrified, rooted to the spot. I doubted if my right arm would allow me to hurl its missile at the oncoming thing when the crucial moment should arrive. Now the steady pat, pat, of the steps was close at hand; now, very close. I could hear the laboured breathing of the animal, and terror-struck as I was, I realised that it must have come from a considerable distance, and was correspondingly fatigued. Suddenly the spell broke. My right hand, guided by my ever trustworthy sense of hearing, threw with full force the sharp-angled bit of limestone which it contained, toward that point in the darkness from which emanated the breathing and pattering, and, wonderful to relate, it nearly reached its goal, for I heard the thing jump, landing at a distance away, where it seemed to pause.”

This character is an idiot.

First of all, most predatory animals have keen senses and navigational skills. The odds infinitely favor a bear that knows these tunnels inside and out over a fucking deep crow. Even people who have never been out in nature know that.

Second, the dude has just acknowledged that without light, his chances of defeating the thing are virtually nonexistent. And yet, he's trying to pick a fight with it instead of hunkering down and hoping it ignores him, which would be the much saner thing to do.

My sympathy for this character is rapidly drying up, and I'm not sure if Lovecraft intended this or if the "Strange as it may seem..." was just window dressing. On the bright side, dawww, bats. :3

“Having readjusted my aim, I discharged my second missile, this time most effectively, for with a flood of joy I listened as the creature fell in what sounded like a complete collapse, and evidently remained prone and unmoving. Almost overpowered by the great relief which rushed over me, I reeled back against the wall. The breathing continued, in heavy, gasping inhalations and expirations, whence I realised that I had no more than wounded the creature. And now all desire to examine thething ceased. At last something allied to groundless, superstitious, fear had entered my brain, and I did not approach the body, nor did I continue to cast stones at it in order to complete the extinction of its life. Instead, I ran at full speed in what was, as nearly as I could estimate in my frenzied condition, the direction from which I had come. Suddenly I heard a sound, or rather, a regular succession of sounds. In another instant they had resolved themselves into a series of sharp, metallic clicks. This time there was no doubt. It was the guide. And then I shouted, yelled, screamed, even shrieked with joy as I beheld in the vaulted arches above the faint and glimmering effulgence which I knew to be the reflected light of an approaching torch. I ran to meet the flare, and before I could completely understand what had occurred, was lying upon the ground at the feet of the guide, embracing his boots, and gibbering, despite my boasted reserve, in a most meaningless and idiotic manner, pouring out my terrible story, and at the same time overwhelming my auditor with protestations of gratitude. At length I awoke to something like my normal consciousness. The guide had noted my absence upon the arrival of the party at the entrance of the cave, and had, from his own intuitive sense of direction, proceeded to make a thorough canvass of the by-passages just ahead of where he had last spoken to me, locating my whereabouts after a quest of about four hours.

By the time he had related this to me, I, emboldened by his torch and his company, began to reflect upon the strange beast which I had wounded but a short distance back in the darkness, and suggested that we ascertain, by the rushlight’s aid, what manner of creature was my victim. Accordingly I retraced my steps, this time with a courage born of companionship, to the scene of my terrible experience. Soon we descried a white object upon the floor, an object whiter even than the gleaming limestone itself. Cautiously advancing, we gave vent to a simultaneous ejaculation of wonderment, for of all the unnatural monsters either of us had in our lifetimes beheld, this was in surpassing degree the strangest. It appeared to be an anthropoid ape of large proportions, escaped, perhaps, from some itinerant menagerie. Its hair was snow-white, a thing due no doubt to the bleaching action of a long existence within the inky confines of the cave, but it was also surprisingly thin, being indeed largely absent save on the head, where it was of such length and abundance that it fell over the shoulders in considerable profusion. The face was turned away from us, as the creature lay almost directly upon it. The inclination of the limbs was very singular, explaining, however, the alternation in their use which I had before noted, whereby the beast used sometimes all four, and on other occasions but two for its progress. From the tips of the fingers or toes long nail-like claws extended. The hands or feet were not prehensile, a fact that I ascribed to that long residence in the cave which, as I before mentioned, seemed evident from the all-pervading and almost unearthly whiteness so characteristic of the whole anatomy. No tail seemed to be present.”

You ran toward a wild animal. In the dark. After wounding it. You are an idiot.

So, the guide shows up - guess the cave network wasn't so vast after all - and they look at the animal the guy took out. "Of all the unnatural monsters either of us had in our lifetimes beheld..." How many unnatural monsters have either of you beheld in your lifetimes? You make it sound like a lot. How exactly did this come to be?

The description of the creature sounds more like a hominid than a great ape. I think you just murdered a fourth generation plague victim, bruh.

“The respiration had now grown very feeble, and the guide had drawn his pistol with the evident intent of despatching the creature, when a sudden sound emitted by the latter caused the weapon to fall unused. The sound was of a nature difficult to describe. It was not like the normal note of any known species of simian”

You're such an expert on primates that you know what every single species sounds like?

“and I wondered if this unnatural quality were not the result of a long-continued and complete silence, broken by the sensations produced by the advent of the light, a thing which the beast could not have seen since its first entrance into the cave. The sound, which I might feebly attempt to classify as a kind of deep-toned chattering, was faintly continued. All at once a fleeting spasm of energy seemed to pass through the frame of the beast. The paws went through a convulsive motion, and the limbs contracted. With a jerk, the white body rolled over so that its face was turned in our direction. For a moment I was so struck with horror at the eyes thus revealed that I noted nothing else. They were black, those eyes, deep, jetty black, in hideous contrast to the snow-white hair and flesh. Like those of other cave denizens, they were deeply sunken in their orbits, and were entirely destitute of iris. As I looked more closely, I saw that they were set in a face less prognathous than that of the average ape, and infinitely more hairy. The nose was quite distinct.

As we gazed upon the uncanny sight presented to our vision, the thick lips opened, and severalsounds issued from them, after which the thing relaxed in death.

The guide clutched my coat-sleeve and trembled so violently that the light shook fitfully, casting weird, moving shadows on the walls about us.

I made no motion, but stood rigidly still, my horrified eyes fixed upon the floor ahead.

Then fear left, and wonder, awe, compassion, and reverence succeeded in its place, for the sounds uttered by the stricken figure that lay stretched out on the limestone had told us the awesome truth. The creature I had killed, the strange beast of the unfathomed cave was, or had at one time been, a MAN!!!”

Yet another "twist" ending that anyone smarter than an actual ape would see coming a mile off

I'm not sure what the intent of this story was. Are we supposed to sympathize with the main character, or despise him? Was his murder of the troglodyte intended to be a tragic mistake that anyone could have made, or is his paranoia meant to be condemned? Are we supposed to be disturbed that he killed the troglodyte, or that such a creature existed in the first place? "Compassion" is mentioned in the final lines, but it appears next to a bunch of other words that seem much less fitting to that interpretation. And there's no mention of regret or acknowledged guilt.

Unsympathetic and stupid protagonist, pathetically obvious twist, incompetently derivative from Poe's work, and a morally confused ending. "Juvenile" is the word for this story. I won't judge Lovecraft for writing it since he WAS a juvenile at the time, but I will question his decision to send it in for publication over a decade down the line (however big a hurry he was in to get something in to the Vagrant), and even moreso the editor's decision to print it.

I never thought I'd type these words in any context at all, but Paolini wins this round.


The next story, published almost exactly a year later in the summer of 1919, is "Memory." This one was also written in 1919, so hopefully it'll be much better than the Beast in the Cave.