March 31, 2025 • 49 mins
Tales of Terror and Mystery is a spine-tingling collection of short stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, masterfully blending suspense, horror, and the unexplained. Divided into two parts—Tales of Terror and Tales of Mystery—the book explores eerie encounters, unsettling twists, and haunting atmospheres. From psychological thrills to scientific enigmas, Doyle steps beyond his famous detective tales to deliver chilling narratives that captivate and disturb. Perfect for fans of classic gothic fiction and supernatural suspense, this collection reveals a darker, more mysterious side of Doyle’s literary genius. For more thrilling content and engaging podcasts, visit https://www.quietperiodplease.com/.
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Speaker 1 (00:01):
Tales of Terror and Mystery by Arthur Conan Doyle, The
Terror of Blue John Gap. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording
by Igor T. Foray. Tales of Terror and Mystery by
(00:26):
Arthur Conan Doyle, The Terror of Blue John Gap. The
following narrative was found among the papers of doctor James Hardcastle,
who died of dices on February fourth, nineteen eight, at
thirty six Upper Coventry Flats, South Kensington. Those who knew
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him best, while refusing to express an opinion upon this
particular statement, are unanimous in asserting that he was a
man of a sober and scientific turn of mind, absolutely
the void of imagination, and most unlikely to invent any
abnormal series of events. The paper was contained in an
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envelope which was docketed a short account of the circumstances
which occurred near Miss Allerton's farm in northwest Derbyshire in
the spring of last year. The envelope was sealed and
on the other side was written in pencil, Dear Setan,
it may interest and perhaps pain ye to know that
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the incredulity with which you met my story has prevented
me from ever opening my mouth upon the subject again.
I leave this record after my death, and perhaps strangers
may be found to have more confidence in me than
my friend. Inquiry has failed to elicit who this seaton
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may have been. I may add that the visit of
the decease to Ellerton's form, and the general nature of
the alarm there heard from his particular explanation, have been
absolutely established with this horde. I append his account exactly
as he left it. It is in the form of
a diary, some entries in which have been expanded, while
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a few have been erased. April seventeenth already I feel
the benefit of this wonderful upland air. The form of
the Alerton size fourteen hundred and twenty feet above sea level,
so it may well be a bracing climate beyond the
usual morning cough. I have very little discomfort, and what
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with the fresh milk and the homegrown mutton, I have
every chance of putting on weight. I think Saunderson will
be pleased. The two miss Ellertons are charmingly quaint and kind.
Two dear little hard working old mates, who are ready
to lavish all the heart which might have gone out
to husband and to children upon an invalid stranger. Truly,
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the old maid is a most useful person, one of
the reserve forces of the community. They talk of the
superfluous woman, But what would the poor superfluous men do
without her kindly presence. By the way, in their simplicity,
they very quickly let out the reason why Saunderson recommended
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their farm. The professor rose from the rings himself, and
I believe that in his youth he was not above
scaring crows in these very fields. It is a most
lonely spot, and the walks are picturesque in the extreme.
The farm consists of grazing land lying at the bottom
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of an irregular valley. On each side are fantastic limestone hills,
formed of rock so soft that you can break it
away with your hands. All this country is hollow. Could
you strike it with some gigantic hair g it would
boom like a drum, or possibly cave in altogether and
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expose some huge subterranean sea. A great sea there surely
must be, for on all sides the stream run into
the mountain itself, never to reappear. There are gaps everywhere
amid the rocks, and when you pass through them, you
find yourself in great caverns which wind down into the
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bowels of the earth. I have a small bicycle lamp,
and it is a perpetual joy to me to carry
it into these weird solitudes and to see the wonderful
silver and black effects when I throw its light upon
the stalactides which drape the lofty roofs. Shut off the
lamp and you are in the blackest darkness. Turn it on,
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and it is a scene from the Arabian nights. But
there is one of these strange openings in the earth
which has a special interest, for it is the handiwork,
not of nature, but of man. I had never heard
of blue John when I came to these parts. It
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is the name given to a peculiar mineral of a
beautiful purple shade, which is only found at one or
two places in the world. It is so rare that
an ordinary vase of blue John would be valued at
a great price. The Romans, with that extraordinary instinct of theirs,
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discovered that it was to be found in this valley,
and sank a horizontal shaft deep into the mountain side.
The opening of their mine has been called Blue John Gap,
a clean cut arch in the rock, the mouth all
overgrown with bushes. It is a goodly passage which the
Roman miners have cut, and it intersects some of the
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great water worn caves, so that if you enter Blue
John Gaps, you would do well to mark your steps
and to have a good store of candles, or you
may never make your way back to the daylight again.
I have not yet gone deeply into it, but this
very day I stood at the mouth of the arched tunnel,
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and peering down into the black recesses beyond. I vowed
that when my health returned, I would devote some holiday
to exploring those mysterious depths and finding out for myself
how far the Roman had penetrated into the Derbyshire hills. Strange,
how superstitious these countrymen are. I should have thought better
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of young Armitage, for he's a man of some education
and character, and a fine fellow for his station in life.
I was standing at the Blue John Gap when he
came across the field to me. Well, doctor, he said,
you are not afraid anyhow afraid, I answered, afraid of
what of it? Said he, with a jerk of his
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thumb towards the black vault of the terror that lives
in the Blue John Cave. How absurdly easy it is
for a legend to arise in a lonely countryside. I
examined him as to the reasons for his weird belief.
It seems that from time to time sheep have been
missing from the fields, carried bodily away according to armitage.
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That they could have wandered away of their own accord
and disappeared among the mountains was an explanation to which
he would not listen. On one occasion, a pool of
blood had been found and some tufts of wool that
also I pointed out, could be explained in a perfectly
natural way. Further, the knights upon which sheep disappeared were
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invariably very dark, cloudy nights with no moon. This I
met with the obvious retort that those were the very
knights which a commonplace sheep stealer would naturally choose for
his work. On one occasion, a gap had been made
on a wall and some of the stones scattered for
a considerable distance. Human agency, again, in my opinion, Finally,
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Armitage clinched all his arguments by telling me that he
had actually heard the creature, indeed that any one could
hear it who remained long enough at the gap. It
was a distant roaring of an immense volume. I could
not but smile at this, knowing as I do, the
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strange reverberations which come out of an underground water system
running amid the chasms of the limestone formation. My incredulity
annoyed Armitage, so that he turned and left me with
some abruptness. And now comes the queer point about the
whole business. I was still standing near the mouth of
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the cave, turning over in my mind the various statements
of Armitage, and reflecting how readily they could be explained away,
when suddenly, from the depth of the tunnel beside me,
there issued a most extraordinary sound. How shall I describe it?
First of all, it seemed to be a great distance away,
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far down in the bowels of the earth. Secondly, in
spite of this suggestion of distance, it was very loud. Lastly,
it was not a boom nor a crash, such as
one would associate with falling water or tumbling rock. But
it was a high whine, tremulous and vibrating, almost like
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the whinnying of a horse. It was certainly a most
remarkable experience, and one which, for a moment I must admit,
gave a new significence to Armitage's words. I waited by
the Blue John Gap for half an hour or more,
but there was no return of the sound. So at
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last I wandered back to the farmhouse, rather mystified by
what had occurred. Decidedly, I shall explore that cavern when
my strength is restored. Of course, Armitage's explanation is too
absurd for discussion, and yet that sound was certainly very strange.
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It still rings in my ears as I write April twentieth.
In the last three days I have made several expeditions
to the Blue John Gap, and have even penetrated some
short distance. But my bicycle lantern is so small and
weak that I dare not trust myself very far. I
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shall do the thing more systematically. I have heard no
sound at all, and could almost believe that I had
been the victim of some hallucination, suggested, perhaps by Armitage's conversation.
Of course, the whole idea is absurd, and yet I
must confess that those bushes at the entrance of the
cave do present an appearance as if some heavy creature
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had forced its way through them. I begin to be
keenly interested. I have said nothing to the miss Allertons,
for they are quite superstitious enough already, but I have
bought some candles and mean to investigate for myself. I
observed this morning that among the numerous tufts of sheep's
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wool which lay among the bushes near the cavern, there
was one which was smeared with blood. Of course, my
reason tells me that if sheep wander into such rocky places,
they are likely to injure themselves. And yet somehow that
splash of crimson gave me a sudden shock, and for
a moment I found myself shrinking back in horror from
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the old Roman arch. Fat breath seemed to ooze from
the black depth into which I appeared. Could it indeed
be possible that some nameless thing, some dreadful presence, was
lurking down yonder? I should have been incapable of such
feelings in the days of my strength. But one grows
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more nervous and fanciful when one's health is shaken. For
the moment, I weakened in my resolution and was ready
to leave the secret of the old mine, if one
exists forever unsolved. But to night my interest has returned
and my nerves grown more steady. To morrow, I trust
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that I shall have gone more deeply into this matter.
April twenty second, let me try and set down as
accurately as I can my extraordinary experience of yesterday. I
started in the afternoon and made my way to the
Blue John Gap. I confess that my misgivings returned as
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I gazed into its depth, and I wished that I
had brought a companion to share my exploration. Finally, with
the return of resolution, I lit my candle, pushed my
way through the briers, and descended into the rocky shaft.
It went down at an acute angle for some fifty feet,
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the floor being covered with broken stone. Thence there extended
a long, straight passage cut in the solid rock. I
am no geologist, but the lining of this corridor was
certainly of some harder material than limestone, For there were
points where I could actually see the tool marks which
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the old miners had left in their excavation, as fresh
as if they had been done yesterday. Down this strange
old world corridor, I stumbled my feeble flame, throwing a
dim circle of light around me, which made the shadows
beyond the more threatening and obscure. Finally I came to
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a spot where the Roman tunnel opened into a water
worn cavern, A huge hall hung with long white icicles
of lime. Deposit From this central chamber, I could dimly
perceive that a number of passages worn by the subterranean streams,
wound away into the depth of the earth. I was
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standing there, wondering whether I had better return, or whether
I dare venture farther into this dangerous labyrinth, when my
eyes fell upon something at my feet which strongly arrested
my attention. The greater part of the floor of the
cavern was covered with boulders of rock or with hard
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incrustaceans of lime. But at this particular point there had
been a drip from the distant roof, which had left
a patch of soft mud. In the very center of
this there was a huge mark, an ill defined blood, deep,
broad and irregular, as if a great boulder had fallen
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upon it. No loose stone lay near, however, nor was
there anything to account for the impression. It was far
too large to be caused by any possible animal, and besides,
there was only the one, and the patch of mud
was of such a size that no reasonable stride could
have covered it. As I rose from the examination of
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that singular mark, and then looked round into the black
shadows which hemmed me in, I must confess that I
felt for a moment a most unpleasant sinking of my heart,
and that do what I could the candle trembled in
my outstretched hand. I soon recovered my nerve. However, when
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I reflected how absurd it was to associate so huge
and shapeless a mark with the track of any known animal.
Even an elephant could not have produced it. I determined
therefore that I would not be scared by vague and
senseless fears from carrying out my exploration. Before proceeding, I
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took good note of a curious rock formation in the wall,
by which I could recognize the entrance of the Roman tunnel.
The precaution was very necessary, for the great cave, so
far as I could see, was intersected by passages. Having
made sure of my position and reassured myself by examining
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my spare candles and my matches. I advanced slowly over
the rocky and uneven surface of the cavern. And now
I come to the point where I met with such
sudden and desperate disaster. A stream some twenty feet broad
ran across my path, and I walked for some little
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distance along the bank to find the spot where I
could cross dry shod. Finally I came to a place
where a single flat boulder lay near the center, which
I could reach in a stride as it chanced. However,
the rock had been cut away and made top heavy
by the rush of the stream, so that it tilted
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over as I landed on it, and shot me into
the ice cold water. My candle went out, and I
found myself floundering about in utter and absolute darkness. I
staggered to my feet again, more amused than alarmed by
my adventure. The candle had fallen from my hand and
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was lost in a stream, but I had two others
in my pocket, so that it was of no importance.
I got one of them ready and drew out my
box of matches to light it. Only then did I
realize my position. The box had been soaked in my
fall into the river. It was impossible to strike the matches.
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A cold hand seemed to close round my heart. As
I realized my position. The darkness was opaque and horrible.
It was so utter one put one's hand up to
one's face, as if to press off something solid. I
stood still, and by an effort I steadied myself. I
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tried to reconstruct in my mind a map of the
floor of the cavern as I had last seen it. Alas,
the bearings which had impressed themselves upon my mind were
high on the wall and not to be found by touch. Still,
I remembered in a general way how the sides were situated,
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and hoped that by groping my way along them, I
should at last come to the opening of the Roman tunnel.
Moving very slowly and continually striking against the rocks, I
set out on this desperate quest, But I very soon
realized how impossible. It was. In that black, velvety darkness.
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One lost all one's bearings in an instant Before I
had made a dozen paces, I was utterly bewildered as
to my whereabouts. The rippling of the stream, which was
the one sound audible, showed me where it lay, But
the moment that I left its bank, I was utterly lost.
The idea of finding my way back in absolute darkness
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through that limestone labyrinth was clearly an impossible one. I
sat down upon a boulder and reflected upon my unfortunate plight.
I had not told any one that I proposed to
come to the Blue John mine, and it was unlikely
that a search party would come after me. Therefore, I
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must trust to my own resources to get clear of
the danger. There was only one hope, and that was
that the matches might dry. When I fell into the river.
Only half of me had got thoroughly wet. My left
shoulder had remained above the water. I took the box
of matches therefore, and put it into my left arm pit.
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The moist air of the cavern might possibly be counteracted
by the heat of my body, but even so I
knew that I could not hope to get a light
for many hours. Meanwhile, there was nothing for it but
to wait. By good luck. I had slipped several biscuits
into my pocket before I left the farmhouse. These I
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now devoured and washed them down with a draft from
the wretched stream which had been the cause of all
my misfortunes. Then I felt about for a comfortable seat
among the rocks, and having discovered a place where I
could get a support from my back, I stretched out
my legs and settled myself felt down to wait. I
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was wretchedly damp and cold, but I tried to cheer
myself with the reflection that modern signs prescribed open windows
and walks in all weather for my disease. Gradually lulled
by the monotonous gurgle of the stream and by the
absolute darkness, I sank into an uneasy slumber. How long
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this lasted I cannot say. It may have been for
an hour, it may have been for several. Suddenly I
sat up on my rock couch, with every nerve thrilling,
and every sense acutely on the alert. Beyond all doubt,
I had heard a sound, some sound very distinct from
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the gurgling of the waters. It had passed, but the
reverberation of it still lingered in my ear. Was it
a search party, they would most certainly have shouted. And
vague as this sound was which had awakened me, it
was very distinct from the human voice. I sat palpitating
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and hardly daring to breathe. There it was again and again.
Now it had become continuous. It was a tread, Yes,
surely it was the tread of some living creature. But
what tread it was. It gave one the impression of
enormous weight, carried upon sponge like feet, which gave forth
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a muffled but ear filling sound. The darkness was as
complete as ever, but the tread was regular and decisive,
and it was coming beyond all question in my direction.
My skin grew cold and my hair stood on end
as I listened to that steady and ponderous footfall. There
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was some creature there, and surely, by the speed of
its advance, it was one which could see in the dark.
I crouched low on my rock and tried to blend
myself into it. The steps grew nearer still, then stopped,
and presently I was aware of a loud blapping and gurgling.
The creature was drinking at the stream. Then again there
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was silence, broken by a succession of long sniffs and
snorts of tremendous volume and energy. Had it caught the
scent of me. My own nostrils were filled by a
low fatigue odor memphatic and abominable. Then I heard the
steps again. They were on my side of the stream.
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Now the stones rattled within a few yards of where
I lay, Hardly daring to breathe, I crouched upon my rock.
Then the steps drew away. I heard the splash as
it returned across the river, and the sound died away
into the distance in the direction from which it had come.
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For a long time I lay upon the rock, too
much horrified to move. I thought of the sound which
I had heard coming from the depth of the cave
of armitage spheres, of the strange impression in the mud.
And now came this final and absolute proof that there
was indeed some inconceivable monster, something utterly unearthly and dreadful,
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which lurked in the hollow of the mountain. Of its
nature or form, I could frame no conception, save that
it was both light footed and gigantic. The combat between
my reason, which told me that such things could not be,
and my senses, which told me that there were raged
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within me as alley. Finally, I was almost ready to
pursue it myself, that this experience had been part of
some evil dream, and that my abnormal condition might have
conjured up an hallucination. But there remained one final experience
which removed the last possibility of doubt from my mind.
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I had taken my matches from my armpit and felt them.
They seemed perfectly hard and dry. Stooping down into a
crevice of the rocks, I tried one of them. To
my delight, it took fire at once. I lit the candle,
and with a terrified backward glance into the obscure depths
of the cavern, I hurried in the direction of the
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Roman passage. As I did so, I passed the patch
of mud on which I had seen the huge imprint.
Now I stood astonished before it, for there were three
similar imprints upon its surface, enormous in size, irregular in outline,
of a depth, which indicated the ponderous weight which had
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left them. Then a great terror surged over me. Stooping
and shading my candle with my hand, I ran, in
a frenzy of fear to the rocky archway, hastened up,
and never stopped until, with the wary feet and panting lungs,
I rushed up the final slope of stones, broke through
the tangle of briars, and flung myself, exhausted upon the
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soft grass under the peaceful light of the stars. It
was three in the morning when I reached the farmhouse,
and to day I am all unstrung and quivering after
my terrific adventure. As yet I have told no one.
I must move warily in the matter. What would the poor,
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lonely women or the uneducated yokels here think of it
if I were to tell them my experience. Let me
go to some one who can understand and advice. April
twenty fifth, I was laid up in bed for two
days after my incredible adventure in the cavern. I used
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the adjective with a very diffin meaning, for I have
had an experience since which has shocked me almost as
much as the other. I have said that I was
looking round for some one who could advise me. There
is a doctor Mark Johnson, who practices a few miles away,
to whom I had a note of recommendation from Professor Saunderson.
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To him, I drove when I was strong enough to
get about, and I recounted to him my whole strange experience.
He listened intently and then carefully examined me, paying special
attention to my reflexes and to the pupils of my eyes.
When he had finished, he refused to discuss my adventure,
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saying that it was entirely beyond him. But he gave
me the card of a mister Pickton at Castleton, with
the advice that I should instantly go to him and
tell him the story, exactly as I had done to himself.
He was, according to my adviser, the very man who
was pre eminently suited to help me. I went on
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to the station therefore, and made my way to the
little town, which is some ten miles away. Mister Pickton
appeared to be a man of importance, as his breastplate
was displayed upon the door of a considerable building on
the outskirts of the town. I was about to ring
his bell when some misgiving came into my mind, And
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crossing to a neighboring shop, I asked the man behind
the counter if he could tell me anything of mister Picton.
Why said he He's the best med doctor in Derbyshire,
and Yonder is his asylum. You can imagine that it
was not long before I had shaken the dust of
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Castleton from my feet and returned to the farm, cursing
all unimaginative pedants who cannot conceive that there may be
things in creation which have never yet chanced to come
across their mole's vision. After all, now that I'm cooler,
I can afford to admit that I have been no
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more sympathetic to armitage than doctor Johnson has been to me.
April twenty seventh. When I was a student, I had
the reputation of being a man of courage and enterprise.
I remember that when there was a ghost hunt at Coldbridge,
it was I who set up in a haunted house.
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Is it advancing years, after all I am only thirty five,
or is it this physical melody which has caused a generation?
Certainly my heart quails when I think of that horrible
cavern in the hill, and a certainty that it has
some monstrous occupant. What shall I do? There is not
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an hour in the day that I do not debate
the question. If I say nothing, then the mystery remains unsolved.
If I do say anything, then I have the alternative
of mad alarm, or of the whole countryside, or of
absolute incredulity, which may end in consigning me to an asylum.
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On the whole. I think that my best course is
to wait and to prepare for some expedition which shall
be more deliberate and better thought out than the last.
As a first step, I have been to Castleton and
obtained a few essentials, A large acetylene lantern for one thing,
and a good double barreled sporting rifle for another. The
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latter I have hired, but I have bought a dozen
heavy game cartridges, which would bring down a rhinoceros. Now
I am ready for my droglodyite friend. Give me better
health and a little spade of energy, and I shall
try conclusions with him. Yet, but who or what is he? Ah?
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There is the question which stands between me and my sleep.
How many theories do I form, only to discard each
in turn? It is also utterly unthinkable, And yet the cry,
the footmark, the tread, and the cavern. No reasoning can
get past these. I think of the old world legends
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of dragons and of other monsters. Were they perhaps not
such fairy tales as we have thought? Can it be
that there is some fact which underlies them? And am I,
of all mortals the one who is chosen to expose it?
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May third, for several days I have been laid up
by the vagaries of an English spring, and during those
days there have been developments, the true and sinister meaning
of which no one can appreciate save myself. I may
say that we have had cloudy and moonless nights of late, which,
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according to my information, were the seasons upon which sheep disappeared. Well,
sheep have disappeared two of Miss Allerton's, one of Old
Pearson's of the Catwalk, and one of missus Smolton's. Four
in all during three nights. No trace is left of
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them at all, and the countryside is buzzing with rumors
of gypsies and of sheep stealers. But there's something more
serious than that. Young Armitage has disappeared. Also, he left
his Moorland cottage early on Wednesday night and has never
been heard of since he was an unattached man, So
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there's less sensation than would otherwise be the case. The
popular explanation is that he owes money and has found
a situation in some other part of the country, whence
he will presently write for his belongings. But I have
grave misgivings. Is it not much more likely that the
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reason tragedy of the sheep has caused him to take
some steps which may have ended in his own destruction.
He may, for example, have lain in wait for the
creature and had been carried off by it into the
recesses of the mountains. What an inconceivable fate for a
civilized englishman of the twentieth century. And yet I feel
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that it is possible, and even probable. But in that case,
how far am I answerable both for his death and
for any other mishap which may occur. Surely, with the
knowledge I already possess, it must be my duty to
see that something is done, or, if necessary, to do
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it myself. It must be the latter. For this morning
I went down to the local police station and told
my story. The inspector entered at all in a large book,
and bowed me out with commendable gravity. But I heard
a bird to laughter before I had got down the
garden path. No doubt he was recounting my adventure to
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his family. June tenth, I am writing this propped up
in bed, six weeks after my last entry in this journal.
I have gone through a terrible shock both to mind
and body, arising from such an experience as has seldom
befallen a human being before. But I have attained my end.
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The danger from the terror which dwelt in the Blue
John Gap has passed, never to return. Thus much at
least I, a broken invalid, have done for the common good.
Let me now recount what occurred as clearly as I may.
The night of Friday May third was dark and cloudy,
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the very night for the monster to walk. About eleven o'clock.
I went from the farmhouse with my lantern and my rifle,
having first left a note upon the table of my
bedroom in which I said that if I were missing,
search should be made for me in the direction of
the gap. I made my way to the mouth of
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the Roman Shaft, and, having perched myself among the rocks
close to the opening, I shut off my lantern and
waited patiently, with my loaded rifle ready to my hand.
It was a melancholy vigil all down the winding valley.
I could see the scattered lights of the farmhouses, and
the church clock of chapel Ldale tolling the hours came
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faintly to my ears. These tokens of my fellow men
served only to make my position seem the more lonely,
and to call for a greater effort to overcome the
terror which tempted me continually to get back to the farm,
and abandoned forever this dangerous quest. And yet there lies
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deep in every man a rooted self respect which makes
it hard for him to turn back from that which
he had once undertaken. This feeling of personal pride was
my salvation now, and it was that alone which held
me fast when every instinct of my nature was dragging
(36:19):
me away. I am glad now that I had the
strength in spite of all that it has cost me.
My manhood is at least above reproach. Twelve o'clock struck
in a distant church, then one, then two. It was
the darkest hour of the night. The clouds were drifting low,
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and there was not a star in the sky. An
owl was hooting somewhere among the rocks, but no other
sound save the gentle south of the wind came to
my ears. And then suddenly I heard it, from far
away down the tunnel, came those muffled steps, so soft
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and yet so ponderous. I heard also the rattle of
stones as they gave way under the giant tread, they
drew nearer, they were close upon me. I heard the
crashing of the bushes round the entrance, and then, dimly,
through the darkness, I was conscious of the loom of
some enormous shape, some monstrous and cooed creature, passing swiftly
(37:24):
and very silently out from the tunnel. I was paralyzed
with fear and amazement. Long as I had waited, Now
that it had actually come, I was unprepared for the shock.
I lay motionless and breathless whilst the great dark mass
whisked by me and was swallowed up in the night.
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But now I nerved myself for its return. No sound
came from the sleeping countryside to tell of the horror
which was loose. In no way could I judge how
far off it was, what it was doing, or when
it might be back. But not a second time should
my nerve fail me, Not a second time should it
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pass unchallenged. I swore it between my clenched teeth as
I laid my cocked rifle across the rock. And yet
it nearly happened. There was no warning of approach. Now,
as the creature passed over the grass, suddenly, like a
dark drifting shadow. The huge bulk looped up once more
(38:29):
before me, making for the entrance of the cave. Again
came that paralysis of volition, which held my crooked forefinger
impotent upon the trigger. But with a desperate effort I
shook it off, even as the brushwood rustled and the
monstrous beast blended with the shadow of the gap. I
fired at the retreating form. In the blaze of the gun,
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I caught a glimpse of a great shaggy mass, something
with rough and bristling hair, of a wither gray color,
fading away to white in its lower parts, the huge
body supported upon short, thick, curving legs. I had just
that glance, and then I heard the rattle of the
stones as the creature tore down to its burrow. In
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an instant, with a triumphant revulsion of feeling, I had
cast my fears to the wind, and uncovering my powerful lantern.
With my rifle in my hand, I sprang down from
my rock and rushed after the monster down the old
roman chaft. My splendid lamp cast a brilliant flood of
vivid light in front of me, very different from the
(39:40):
yellow glimmer which had aided me down the same passage
only twelve days before. As I ran, I saw the
great beasts lurching along before me, its huge bulk filling
up the whole space from wall to wall. Its hair
looked like coarse, faded oakum, and hung down in long,
dense masses, which swayed as it moved. It was like
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an enormous unclipped sheep in its fleece, but in size
it was far larger than the largest elephant, and its
breadth seemed to be nearly as great as its height.
It fills me with amazement now to think that I
should have dared to follow such a horror into the
bowels of the earth. But when one's blood is up,
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and when one's quarry seems to be flying, the old
primeval hunting spirit awakes, and prudence is cast to the
wind rifle in hand. I ran, at the top of
my speed upon the trail of the monster. I had
seen that the creature was swift. Now I was to
(40:44):
find out, to my cost that it was also very cunning.
I had imagined that it was in panic flight, and
that I had only to pursue it the idea that
it might turn upon me never entered my excited brain.
I have already explained that the passage down which I
was racing opened into a great central cave. Into this
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I rushed, fearful lest I should lose all trace of
the beast. But he had turned upon his own traces,
and in a moment we were face to face. That picture,
seeing in the brilliant white light of the lantern, is
edged forever upon my brain. He had reared up on
his hind legs, as a bear would do, and stood
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above me enormous menacing, such a creature as no nightmare
had ever brought to my imagination. I have said that
he reared like a bear, and there was something bear like,
if one could conceive a bear, which was tenfold the
bulk of any bear seen upon earth. In his whole
pose and attitude, in his great crooked fore legs with
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their ivory white claws, in his rugged skin, and in
his red, gaping mouth fringed with once just fangs, only
in one point did he differ from the bear, or
from any other creature which walks the earth. And even
at that supreme moment, a shudder of horror passed over me,
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as I observed that the eyes, which glistened in the glow.
My lantern for huge projecting bulbs, white and sightless. For
a moment, his great paw swung over my head. The
next he fell forward upon me. I and my broken
lantern threshed to the earth, and I remember no more.
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When I came to myself, I was back in the
farmhouse of the Alertans. Two days had passed since my
terrible adventure in the Blue John Gap. It seems that
I had lain all night in the cave, insensible from
concussion of the brain, with my left arm and two
ribs badly fractured. In the morning, my note had been found,
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A search party of a dozen farmers assembled, and I
had been tracked down and carried back to my bedroom,
where I had lain in high delirium. Ever since, there
was it seems, no sign of the creature, and no
blood stain which would show that my bullet had found
him as he passed. Save for my own plight and
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the marks upon the mud, there was nothing to prove
that what I said was true. Six weeks have now elapsed,
and I am able to sit out once more in
the sunshine. Just opposite me is the steep hillside gray
with shaly rock and yonder. On its flank is the
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dark cleft which marks the opening of the Blue John Gap.
But it is no longer a source of terror. Never
again through that ill omened tunnel shall any strained shape
flit out into the world of men. The educated and
anentific The doctor Johnson's and the like may smile at
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my narrative, but the poorer folk of the countryside had
never a doubt as to its truth. On the day
after my recovering consciousness, they assembled in the hundreds round
the Blue John Gap. As the castle and couriers said,
it was useless for our correspondent, or for any of
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the adventurous gentlemen who had come from Madlock, Buxton and
other parts, to offer to descend, to explore the cave
to the end, and could finally test the extraordinary narrative
of doctor James Hardcastle. The country people had taken the
matter into their own hands, and from an early hour
of the morning they had worked hard in stopping up
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the entrance of the tunnel. There's a sharp slope where
the shaft begins, and great bowlders rolled along by. Many
willing hands were thrust down it until the gap was
absolutely seen, so ends the episode which had caused such
excitement throughout the country. Local opinion is fiercely divided upon
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the subject. On the one hand, are those who point
to doctor Hardcastle's impaired health and to the possibility of
celebrial lesions of tubercular origin giving rise to strange hallucinations.
Some edifix, according to these gentlemen, caused the doctor to
wander down the tunnel, and a fall among the rocks
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was sufficient to account for his injuries. On the other hand,
a legend of a strange creature in the gap has
existed for some months back, and the farmers look upon
doctor Hardcastle's narrative and his personal injuries as a final corroboration.
So the matter stands, and so the matter will continue
(45:52):
to stand. For no definite solution seems to us to
be now possible. It transcends human wit to give any
scientific explanation which could cover the alleged facts. Perhaps before
the courier published these words, they should have been wise
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to send their representative to me. I have thought the
matter out, as no one else has occasion to do,
and it is possible that I might have removed some
of the more obvious difficulties of the narrative and brought
it one degree nearer to scientific acceptance. Let me then
write down the only explanation which seems to me to
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elucidate what I know, to my cost to have been
a series of facts. My theory may seem to be
wildly improbable, but at least no one can venture to
say that it is impossible. My view is, and it
was formed, as is shown by my diary before my
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personal adventure, that in this part of England there is
a vast subterranean lake or sea, which is fed by
a great number of streams which pass down through the limestone.
Where there is a large collection of water, there must
also be some evaporation mists or rain, and a possibility
of vegetation. This in turn suggests that there may be
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animal life arising, as the vegetable life would also do
from those seeds and types which had been introduced at
an early period of the world's history, when communication with
the outer air was more easy. The place had then
developed a fauna and flora of its own, including such
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monsters as the one which I had seen, which may
well have been the old cave bear enormously enlarged and
modified by its new environment. For countless eons, the internal
and the external creation had kept apart, growing steadily away
from it each other. Then there had come some rift
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in the depth of the mountain, which had enabled one
creature to wander up, and, by means of the Roman tunnel,
to reach the open air. Like all subterranean life, it
had lost the power of sight, But this had no
doubt been compensated for by nature and other directions. Certainly
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it had some means of finding its way about, and
of hunting down the sheep upon the hillside. As to
its choice of dark nights, it is part of my
theory that light was painful to those great white eyeballs,
and that it was only a pitch black world which
it could tolerate. Perhaps, indeed, it was the glare of
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my lantern which saved my life at that awful moment
when we were face to face. So I read the riddle.
I leave these facts behind me, And if you can
explain them, do so, Or if you choose to doubt them,
do so. Neither your belief nor your incredulity can alter them,
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nor effect one whose task is nearly over so ended
the strange narrative of doctor James Hardcastle. End of the
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Terror of Blue John Gap by Arthur Conan Doyle, recording
by Igor ti Foray in Magdnburg, Germany, eighteenth of June
two thousand and seven.
Tales of Terror and Mystery by Arthur Conan Doyle, The
Terror of Blue John Gap. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording
by Igor T. Foray. Tales of Terror and Mystery by
(00:26):
Arthur Conan Doyle, The Terror of Blue John Gap. The
following narrative was found among the papers of doctor James Hardcastle,
who died of dices on February fourth, nineteen eight, at
thirty six Upper Coventry Flats, South Kensington. Those who knew
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him best, while refusing to express an opinion upon this
particular statement, are unanimous in asserting that he was a
man of a sober and scientific turn of mind, absolutely
the void of imagination, and most unlikely to invent any
abnormal series of events. The paper was contained in an
(01:08):
envelope which was docketed a short account of the circumstances
which occurred near Miss Allerton's farm in northwest Derbyshire in
the spring of last year. The envelope was sealed and
on the other side was written in pencil, Dear Setan,
it may interest and perhaps pain ye to know that
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the incredulity with which you met my story has prevented
me from ever opening my mouth upon the subject again.
I leave this record after my death, and perhaps strangers
may be found to have more confidence in me than
my friend. Inquiry has failed to elicit who this seaton
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may have been. I may add that the visit of
the decease to Ellerton's form, and the general nature of
the alarm there heard from his particular explanation, have been
absolutely established with this horde. I append his account exactly
as he left it. It is in the form of
a diary, some entries in which have been expanded, while
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a few have been erased. April seventeenth already I feel
the benefit of this wonderful upland air. The form of
the Alerton size fourteen hundred and twenty feet above sea level,
so it may well be a bracing climate beyond the
usual morning cough. I have very little discomfort, and what
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with the fresh milk and the homegrown mutton, I have
every chance of putting on weight. I think Saunderson will
be pleased. The two miss Ellertons are charmingly quaint and kind.
Two dear little hard working old mates, who are ready
to lavish all the heart which might have gone out
to husband and to children upon an invalid stranger. Truly,
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the old maid is a most useful person, one of
the reserve forces of the community. They talk of the
superfluous woman, But what would the poor superfluous men do
without her kindly presence. By the way, in their simplicity,
they very quickly let out the reason why Saunderson recommended
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their farm. The professor rose from the rings himself, and
I believe that in his youth he was not above
scaring crows in these very fields. It is a most
lonely spot, and the walks are picturesque in the extreme.
The farm consists of grazing land lying at the bottom
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of an irregular valley. On each side are fantastic limestone hills,
formed of rock so soft that you can break it
away with your hands. All this country is hollow. Could
you strike it with some gigantic hair g it would
boom like a drum, or possibly cave in altogether and
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expose some huge subterranean sea. A great sea there surely
must be, for on all sides the stream run into
the mountain itself, never to reappear. There are gaps everywhere
amid the rocks, and when you pass through them, you
find yourself in great caverns which wind down into the
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bowels of the earth. I have a small bicycle lamp,
and it is a perpetual joy to me to carry
it into these weird solitudes and to see the wonderful
silver and black effects when I throw its light upon
the stalactides which drape the lofty roofs. Shut off the
lamp and you are in the blackest darkness. Turn it on,
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and it is a scene from the Arabian nights. But
there is one of these strange openings in the earth
which has a special interest, for it is the handiwork,
not of nature, but of man. I had never heard
of blue John when I came to these parts. It
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is the name given to a peculiar mineral of a
beautiful purple shade, which is only found at one or
two places in the world. It is so rare that
an ordinary vase of blue John would be valued at
a great price. The Romans, with that extraordinary instinct of theirs,
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discovered that it was to be found in this valley,
and sank a horizontal shaft deep into the mountain side.
The opening of their mine has been called Blue John Gap,
a clean cut arch in the rock, the mouth all
overgrown with bushes. It is a goodly passage which the
Roman miners have cut, and it intersects some of the
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great water worn caves, so that if you enter Blue
John Gaps, you would do well to mark your steps
and to have a good store of candles, or you
may never make your way back to the daylight again.
I have not yet gone deeply into it, but this
very day I stood at the mouth of the arched tunnel,
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and peering down into the black recesses beyond. I vowed
that when my health returned, I would devote some holiday
to exploring those mysterious depths and finding out for myself
how far the Roman had penetrated into the Derbyshire hills. Strange,
how superstitious these countrymen are. I should have thought better
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of young Armitage, for he's a man of some education
and character, and a fine fellow for his station in life.
I was standing at the Blue John Gap when he
came across the field to me. Well, doctor, he said,
you are not afraid anyhow afraid, I answered, afraid of
what of it? Said he, with a jerk of his
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thumb towards the black vault of the terror that lives
in the Blue John Cave. How absurdly easy it is
for a legend to arise in a lonely countryside. I
examined him as to the reasons for his weird belief.
It seems that from time to time sheep have been
missing from the fields, carried bodily away according to armitage.
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That they could have wandered away of their own accord
and disappeared among the mountains was an explanation to which
he would not listen. On one occasion, a pool of
blood had been found and some tufts of wool that
also I pointed out, could be explained in a perfectly
natural way. Further, the knights upon which sheep disappeared were
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invariably very dark, cloudy nights with no moon. This I
met with the obvious retort that those were the very
knights which a commonplace sheep stealer would naturally choose for
his work. On one occasion, a gap had been made
on a wall and some of the stones scattered for
a considerable distance. Human agency, again, in my opinion, Finally,
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Armitage clinched all his arguments by telling me that he
had actually heard the creature, indeed that any one could
hear it who remained long enough at the gap. It
was a distant roaring of an immense volume. I could
not but smile at this, knowing as I do, the
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strange reverberations which come out of an underground water system
running amid the chasms of the limestone formation. My incredulity
annoyed Armitage, so that he turned and left me with
some abruptness. And now comes the queer point about the
whole business. I was still standing near the mouth of
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the cave, turning over in my mind the various statements
of Armitage, and reflecting how readily they could be explained away,
when suddenly, from the depth of the tunnel beside me,
there issued a most extraordinary sound. How shall I describe it?
First of all, it seemed to be a great distance away,
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far down in the bowels of the earth. Secondly, in
spite of this suggestion of distance, it was very loud. Lastly,
it was not a boom nor a crash, such as
one would associate with falling water or tumbling rock. But
it was a high whine, tremulous and vibrating, almost like
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the whinnying of a horse. It was certainly a most
remarkable experience, and one which, for a moment I must admit,
gave a new significence to Armitage's words. I waited by
the Blue John Gap for half an hour or more,
but there was no return of the sound. So at
(10:03):
last I wandered back to the farmhouse, rather mystified by
what had occurred. Decidedly, I shall explore that cavern when
my strength is restored. Of course, Armitage's explanation is too
absurd for discussion, and yet that sound was certainly very strange.
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It still rings in my ears as I write April twentieth.
In the last three days I have made several expeditions
to the Blue John Gap, and have even penetrated some
short distance. But my bicycle lantern is so small and
weak that I dare not trust myself very far. I
(10:46):
shall do the thing more systematically. I have heard no
sound at all, and could almost believe that I had
been the victim of some hallucination, suggested, perhaps by Armitage's conversation.
Of course, the whole idea is absurd, and yet I
must confess that those bushes at the entrance of the
cave do present an appearance as if some heavy creature
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had forced its way through them. I begin to be
keenly interested. I have said nothing to the miss Allertons,
for they are quite superstitious enough already, but I have
bought some candles and mean to investigate for myself. I
observed this morning that among the numerous tufts of sheep's
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wool which lay among the bushes near the cavern, there
was one which was smeared with blood. Of course, my
reason tells me that if sheep wander into such rocky places,
they are likely to injure themselves. And yet somehow that
splash of crimson gave me a sudden shock, and for
a moment I found myself shrinking back in horror from
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the old Roman arch. Fat breath seemed to ooze from
the black depth into which I appeared. Could it indeed
be possible that some nameless thing, some dreadful presence, was
lurking down yonder? I should have been incapable of such
feelings in the days of my strength. But one grows
(12:20):
more nervous and fanciful when one's health is shaken. For
the moment, I weakened in my resolution and was ready
to leave the secret of the old mine, if one
exists forever unsolved. But to night my interest has returned
and my nerves grown more steady. To morrow, I trust
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that I shall have gone more deeply into this matter.
April twenty second, let me try and set down as
accurately as I can my extraordinary experience of yesterday. I
started in the afternoon and made my way to the
Blue John Gap. I confess that my misgivings returned as
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I gazed into its depth, and I wished that I
had brought a companion to share my exploration. Finally, with
the return of resolution, I lit my candle, pushed my
way through the briers, and descended into the rocky shaft.
It went down at an acute angle for some fifty feet,
(13:23):
the floor being covered with broken stone. Thence there extended
a long, straight passage cut in the solid rock. I
am no geologist, but the lining of this corridor was
certainly of some harder material than limestone, For there were
points where I could actually see the tool marks which
(13:44):
the old miners had left in their excavation, as fresh
as if they had been done yesterday. Down this strange
old world corridor, I stumbled my feeble flame, throwing a
dim circle of light around me, which made the shadows
beyond the more threatening and obscure. Finally I came to
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a spot where the Roman tunnel opened into a water
worn cavern, A huge hall hung with long white icicles
of lime. Deposit From this central chamber, I could dimly
perceive that a number of passages worn by the subterranean streams,
wound away into the depth of the earth. I was
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standing there, wondering whether I had better return, or whether
I dare venture farther into this dangerous labyrinth, when my
eyes fell upon something at my feet which strongly arrested
my attention. The greater part of the floor of the
cavern was covered with boulders of rock or with hard
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incrustaceans of lime. But at this particular point there had
been a drip from the distant roof, which had left
a patch of soft mud. In the very center of
this there was a huge mark, an ill defined blood, deep,
broad and irregular, as if a great boulder had fallen
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upon it. No loose stone lay near, however, nor was
there anything to account for the impression. It was far
too large to be caused by any possible animal, and besides,
there was only the one, and the patch of mud
was of such a size that no reasonable stride could
have covered it. As I rose from the examination of
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that singular mark, and then looked round into the black
shadows which hemmed me in, I must confess that I
felt for a moment a most unpleasant sinking of my heart,
and that do what I could the candle trembled in
my outstretched hand. I soon recovered my nerve. However, when
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I reflected how absurd it was to associate so huge
and shapeless a mark with the track of any known animal.
Even an elephant could not have produced it. I determined
therefore that I would not be scared by vague and
senseless fears from carrying out my exploration. Before proceeding, I
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took good note of a curious rock formation in the wall,
by which I could recognize the entrance of the Roman tunnel.
The precaution was very necessary, for the great cave, so
far as I could see, was intersected by passages. Having
made sure of my position and reassured myself by examining
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my spare candles and my matches. I advanced slowly over
the rocky and uneven surface of the cavern. And now
I come to the point where I met with such
sudden and desperate disaster. A stream some twenty feet broad
ran across my path, and I walked for some little
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distance along the bank to find the spot where I
could cross dry shod. Finally I came to a place
where a single flat boulder lay near the center, which
I could reach in a stride as it chanced. However,
the rock had been cut away and made top heavy
by the rush of the stream, so that it tilted
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over as I landed on it, and shot me into
the ice cold water. My candle went out, and I
found myself floundering about in utter and absolute darkness. I
staggered to my feet again, more amused than alarmed by
my adventure. The candle had fallen from my hand and
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was lost in a stream, but I had two others
in my pocket, so that it was of no importance.
I got one of them ready and drew out my
box of matches to light it. Only then did I
realize my position. The box had been soaked in my
fall into the river. It was impossible to strike the matches.
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A cold hand seemed to close round my heart. As
I realized my position. The darkness was opaque and horrible.
It was so utter one put one's hand up to
one's face, as if to press off something solid. I
stood still, and by an effort I steadied myself. I
(18:27):
tried to reconstruct in my mind a map of the
floor of the cavern as I had last seen it. Alas,
the bearings which had impressed themselves upon my mind were
high on the wall and not to be found by touch. Still,
I remembered in a general way how the sides were situated,
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and hoped that by groping my way along them, I
should at last come to the opening of the Roman tunnel.
Moving very slowly and continually striking against the rocks, I
set out on this desperate quest, But I very soon
realized how impossible. It was. In that black, velvety darkness.
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One lost all one's bearings in an instant Before I
had made a dozen paces, I was utterly bewildered as
to my whereabouts. The rippling of the stream, which was
the one sound audible, showed me where it lay, But
the moment that I left its bank, I was utterly lost.
The idea of finding my way back in absolute darkness
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through that limestone labyrinth was clearly an impossible one. I
sat down upon a boulder and reflected upon my unfortunate plight.
I had not told any one that I proposed to
come to the Blue John mine, and it was unlikely
that a search party would come after me. Therefore, I
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must trust to my own resources to get clear of
the danger. There was only one hope, and that was
that the matches might dry. When I fell into the river.
Only half of me had got thoroughly wet. My left
shoulder had remained above the water. I took the box
of matches therefore, and put it into my left arm pit.
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The moist air of the cavern might possibly be counteracted
by the heat of my body, but even so I
knew that I could not hope to get a light
for many hours. Meanwhile, there was nothing for it but
to wait. By good luck. I had slipped several biscuits
into my pocket before I left the farmhouse. These I
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now devoured and washed them down with a draft from
the wretched stream which had been the cause of all
my misfortunes. Then I felt about for a comfortable seat
among the rocks, and having discovered a place where I
could get a support from my back, I stretched out
my legs and settled myself felt down to wait. I
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was wretchedly damp and cold, but I tried to cheer
myself with the reflection that modern signs prescribed open windows
and walks in all weather for my disease. Gradually lulled
by the monotonous gurgle of the stream and by the
absolute darkness, I sank into an uneasy slumber. How long
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this lasted I cannot say. It may have been for
an hour, it may have been for several. Suddenly I
sat up on my rock couch, with every nerve thrilling,
and every sense acutely on the alert. Beyond all doubt,
I had heard a sound, some sound very distinct from
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the gurgling of the waters. It had passed, but the
reverberation of it still lingered in my ear. Was it
a search party, they would most certainly have shouted. And
vague as this sound was which had awakened me, it
was very distinct from the human voice. I sat palpitating
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and hardly daring to breathe. There it was again and again.
Now it had become continuous. It was a tread, Yes,
surely it was the tread of some living creature. But
what tread it was. It gave one the impression of
enormous weight, carried upon sponge like feet, which gave forth
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a muffled but ear filling sound. The darkness was as
complete as ever, but the tread was regular and decisive,
and it was coming beyond all question in my direction.
My skin grew cold and my hair stood on end
as I listened to that steady and ponderous footfall. There
(22:52):
was some creature there, and surely, by the speed of
its advance, it was one which could see in the dark.
I crouched low on my rock and tried to blend
myself into it. The steps grew nearer still, then stopped,
and presently I was aware of a loud blapping and gurgling.
The creature was drinking at the stream. Then again there
(23:15):
was silence, broken by a succession of long sniffs and
snorts of tremendous volume and energy. Had it caught the
scent of me. My own nostrils were filled by a
low fatigue odor memphatic and abominable. Then I heard the
steps again. They were on my side of the stream.
(23:36):
Now the stones rattled within a few yards of where
I lay, Hardly daring to breathe, I crouched upon my rock.
Then the steps drew away. I heard the splash as
it returned across the river, and the sound died away
into the distance in the direction from which it had come.
(24:00):
For a long time I lay upon the rock, too
much horrified to move. I thought of the sound which
I had heard coming from the depth of the cave
of armitage spheres, of the strange impression in the mud.
And now came this final and absolute proof that there
was indeed some inconceivable monster, something utterly unearthly and dreadful,
(24:22):
which lurked in the hollow of the mountain. Of its
nature or form, I could frame no conception, save that
it was both light footed and gigantic. The combat between
my reason, which told me that such things could not be,
and my senses, which told me that there were raged
(24:42):
within me as alley. Finally, I was almost ready to
pursue it myself, that this experience had been part of
some evil dream, and that my abnormal condition might have
conjured up an hallucination. But there remained one final experience
which removed the last possibility of doubt from my mind.
(25:04):
I had taken my matches from my armpit and felt them.
They seemed perfectly hard and dry. Stooping down into a
crevice of the rocks, I tried one of them. To
my delight, it took fire at once. I lit the candle,
and with a terrified backward glance into the obscure depths
of the cavern, I hurried in the direction of the
(25:27):
Roman passage. As I did so, I passed the patch
of mud on which I had seen the huge imprint.
Now I stood astonished before it, for there were three
similar imprints upon its surface, enormous in size, irregular in outline,
of a depth, which indicated the ponderous weight which had
(25:49):
left them. Then a great terror surged over me. Stooping
and shading my candle with my hand, I ran, in
a frenzy of fear to the rocky archway, hastened up,
and never stopped until, with the wary feet and panting lungs,
I rushed up the final slope of stones, broke through
the tangle of briars, and flung myself, exhausted upon the
(26:12):
soft grass under the peaceful light of the stars. It
was three in the morning when I reached the farmhouse,
and to day I am all unstrung and quivering after
my terrific adventure. As yet I have told no one.
I must move warily in the matter. What would the poor,
(26:34):
lonely women or the uneducated yokels here think of it
if I were to tell them my experience. Let me
go to some one who can understand and advice. April
twenty fifth, I was laid up in bed for two
days after my incredible adventure in the cavern. I used
(26:58):
the adjective with a very diffin meaning, for I have
had an experience since which has shocked me almost as
much as the other. I have said that I was
looking round for some one who could advise me. There
is a doctor Mark Johnson, who practices a few miles away,
to whom I had a note of recommendation from Professor Saunderson.
(27:19):
To him, I drove when I was strong enough to
get about, and I recounted to him my whole strange experience.
He listened intently and then carefully examined me, paying special
attention to my reflexes and to the pupils of my eyes.
When he had finished, he refused to discuss my adventure,
(27:39):
saying that it was entirely beyond him. But he gave
me the card of a mister Pickton at Castleton, with
the advice that I should instantly go to him and
tell him the story, exactly as I had done to himself.
He was, according to my adviser, the very man who
was pre eminently suited to help me. I went on
(28:01):
to the station therefore, and made my way to the
little town, which is some ten miles away. Mister Pickton
appeared to be a man of importance, as his breastplate
was displayed upon the door of a considerable building on
the outskirts of the town. I was about to ring
his bell when some misgiving came into my mind, And
(28:23):
crossing to a neighboring shop, I asked the man behind
the counter if he could tell me anything of mister Picton.
Why said he He's the best med doctor in Derbyshire,
and Yonder is his asylum. You can imagine that it
was not long before I had shaken the dust of
(28:43):
Castleton from my feet and returned to the farm, cursing
all unimaginative pedants who cannot conceive that there may be
things in creation which have never yet chanced to come
across their mole's vision. After all, now that I'm cooler,
I can afford to admit that I have been no
(29:04):
more sympathetic to armitage than doctor Johnson has been to me.
April twenty seventh. When I was a student, I had
the reputation of being a man of courage and enterprise.
I remember that when there was a ghost hunt at Coldbridge,
it was I who set up in a haunted house.
(29:26):
Is it advancing years, after all I am only thirty five,
or is it this physical melody which has caused a generation?
Certainly my heart quails when I think of that horrible
cavern in the hill, and a certainty that it has
some monstrous occupant. What shall I do? There is not
(29:47):
an hour in the day that I do not debate
the question. If I say nothing, then the mystery remains unsolved.
If I do say anything, then I have the alternative
of mad alarm, or of the whole countryside, or of
absolute incredulity, which may end in consigning me to an asylum.
(30:08):
On the whole. I think that my best course is
to wait and to prepare for some expedition which shall
be more deliberate and better thought out than the last.
As a first step, I have been to Castleton and
obtained a few essentials, A large acetylene lantern for one thing,
and a good double barreled sporting rifle for another. The
(30:30):
latter I have hired, but I have bought a dozen
heavy game cartridges, which would bring down a rhinoceros. Now
I am ready for my droglodyite friend. Give me better
health and a little spade of energy, and I shall
try conclusions with him. Yet, but who or what is he? Ah?
(30:52):
There is the question which stands between me and my sleep.
How many theories do I form, only to discard each
in turn? It is also utterly unthinkable, And yet the cry,
the footmark, the tread, and the cavern. No reasoning can
get past these. I think of the old world legends
(31:14):
of dragons and of other monsters. Were they perhaps not
such fairy tales as we have thought? Can it be
that there is some fact which underlies them? And am I,
of all mortals the one who is chosen to expose it?
(31:36):
May third, for several days I have been laid up
by the vagaries of an English spring, and during those
days there have been developments, the true and sinister meaning
of which no one can appreciate save myself. I may
say that we have had cloudy and moonless nights of late, which,
(31:56):
according to my information, were the seasons upon which sheep disappeared. Well,
sheep have disappeared two of Miss Allerton's, one of Old
Pearson's of the Catwalk, and one of missus Smolton's. Four
in all during three nights. No trace is left of
(32:17):
them at all, and the countryside is buzzing with rumors
of gypsies and of sheep stealers. But there's something more
serious than that. Young Armitage has disappeared. Also, he left
his Moorland cottage early on Wednesday night and has never
been heard of since he was an unattached man, So
(32:39):
there's less sensation than would otherwise be the case. The
popular explanation is that he owes money and has found
a situation in some other part of the country, whence
he will presently write for his belongings. But I have
grave misgivings. Is it not much more likely that the
(32:59):
reason tragedy of the sheep has caused him to take
some steps which may have ended in his own destruction.
He may, for example, have lain in wait for the
creature and had been carried off by it into the
recesses of the mountains. What an inconceivable fate for a
civilized englishman of the twentieth century. And yet I feel
(33:23):
that it is possible, and even probable. But in that case,
how far am I answerable both for his death and
for any other mishap which may occur. Surely, with the
knowledge I already possess, it must be my duty to
see that something is done, or, if necessary, to do
(33:44):
it myself. It must be the latter. For this morning
I went down to the local police station and told
my story. The inspector entered at all in a large book,
and bowed me out with commendable gravity. But I heard
a bird to laughter before I had got down the
garden path. No doubt he was recounting my adventure to
(34:08):
his family. June tenth, I am writing this propped up
in bed, six weeks after my last entry in this journal.
I have gone through a terrible shock both to mind
and body, arising from such an experience as has seldom
befallen a human being before. But I have attained my end.
(34:30):
The danger from the terror which dwelt in the Blue
John Gap has passed, never to return. Thus much at
least I, a broken invalid, have done for the common good.
Let me now recount what occurred as clearly as I may.
The night of Friday May third was dark and cloudy,
(34:52):
the very night for the monster to walk. About eleven o'clock.
I went from the farmhouse with my lantern and my rifle,
having first left a note upon the table of my
bedroom in which I said that if I were missing,
search should be made for me in the direction of
the gap. I made my way to the mouth of
(35:12):
the Roman Shaft, and, having perched myself among the rocks
close to the opening, I shut off my lantern and
waited patiently, with my loaded rifle ready to my hand.
It was a melancholy vigil all down the winding valley.
I could see the scattered lights of the farmhouses, and
the church clock of chapel Ldale tolling the hours came
(35:37):
faintly to my ears. These tokens of my fellow men
served only to make my position seem the more lonely,
and to call for a greater effort to overcome the
terror which tempted me continually to get back to the farm,
and abandoned forever this dangerous quest. And yet there lies
(35:59):
deep in every man a rooted self respect which makes
it hard for him to turn back from that which
he had once undertaken. This feeling of personal pride was
my salvation now, and it was that alone which held
me fast when every instinct of my nature was dragging
(36:19):
me away. I am glad now that I had the
strength in spite of all that it has cost me.
My manhood is at least above reproach. Twelve o'clock struck
in a distant church, then one, then two. It was
the darkest hour of the night. The clouds were drifting low,
(36:42):
and there was not a star in the sky. An
owl was hooting somewhere among the rocks, but no other
sound save the gentle south of the wind came to
my ears. And then suddenly I heard it, from far
away down the tunnel, came those muffled steps, so soft
(37:03):
and yet so ponderous. I heard also the rattle of
stones as they gave way under the giant tread, they
drew nearer, they were close upon me. I heard the
crashing of the bushes round the entrance, and then, dimly,
through the darkness, I was conscious of the loom of
some enormous shape, some monstrous and cooed creature, passing swiftly
(37:24):
and very silently out from the tunnel. I was paralyzed
with fear and amazement. Long as I had waited, Now
that it had actually come, I was unprepared for the shock.
I lay motionless and breathless whilst the great dark mass
whisked by me and was swallowed up in the night.
(37:48):
But now I nerved myself for its return. No sound
came from the sleeping countryside to tell of the horror
which was loose. In no way could I judge how
far off it was, what it was doing, or when
it might be back. But not a second time should
my nerve fail me, Not a second time should it
(38:08):
pass unchallenged. I swore it between my clenched teeth as
I laid my cocked rifle across the rock. And yet
it nearly happened. There was no warning of approach. Now,
as the creature passed over the grass, suddenly, like a
dark drifting shadow. The huge bulk looped up once more
(38:29):
before me, making for the entrance of the cave. Again
came that paralysis of volition, which held my crooked forefinger
impotent upon the trigger. But with a desperate effort I
shook it off, even as the brushwood rustled and the
monstrous beast blended with the shadow of the gap. I
fired at the retreating form. In the blaze of the gun,
(38:53):
I caught a glimpse of a great shaggy mass, something
with rough and bristling hair, of a wither gray color,
fading away to white in its lower parts, the huge
body supported upon short, thick, curving legs. I had just
that glance, and then I heard the rattle of the
stones as the creature tore down to its burrow. In
(39:17):
an instant, with a triumphant revulsion of feeling, I had
cast my fears to the wind, and uncovering my powerful lantern.
With my rifle in my hand, I sprang down from
my rock and rushed after the monster down the old
roman chaft. My splendid lamp cast a brilliant flood of
vivid light in front of me, very different from the
(39:40):
yellow glimmer which had aided me down the same passage
only twelve days before. As I ran, I saw the
great beasts lurching along before me, its huge bulk filling
up the whole space from wall to wall. Its hair
looked like coarse, faded oakum, and hung down in long,
dense masses, which swayed as it moved. It was like
(40:03):
an enormous unclipped sheep in its fleece, but in size
it was far larger than the largest elephant, and its
breadth seemed to be nearly as great as its height.
It fills me with amazement now to think that I
should have dared to follow such a horror into the
bowels of the earth. But when one's blood is up,
(40:24):
and when one's quarry seems to be flying, the old
primeval hunting spirit awakes, and prudence is cast to the
wind rifle in hand. I ran, at the top of
my speed upon the trail of the monster. I had
seen that the creature was swift. Now I was to
(40:44):
find out, to my cost that it was also very cunning.
I had imagined that it was in panic flight, and
that I had only to pursue it the idea that
it might turn upon me never entered my excited brain.
I have already explained that the passage down which I
was racing opened into a great central cave. Into this
(41:07):
I rushed, fearful lest I should lose all trace of
the beast. But he had turned upon his own traces,
and in a moment we were face to face. That picture,
seeing in the brilliant white light of the lantern, is
edged forever upon my brain. He had reared up on
his hind legs, as a bear would do, and stood
(41:30):
above me enormous menacing, such a creature as no nightmare
had ever brought to my imagination. I have said that
he reared like a bear, and there was something bear like,
if one could conceive a bear, which was tenfold the
bulk of any bear seen upon earth. In his whole
pose and attitude, in his great crooked fore legs with
(41:53):
their ivory white claws, in his rugged skin, and in
his red, gaping mouth fringed with once just fangs, only
in one point did he differ from the bear, or
from any other creature which walks the earth. And even
at that supreme moment, a shudder of horror passed over me,
(42:15):
as I observed that the eyes, which glistened in the glow.
My lantern for huge projecting bulbs, white and sightless. For
a moment, his great paw swung over my head. The
next he fell forward upon me. I and my broken
lantern threshed to the earth, and I remember no more.
(42:38):
When I came to myself, I was back in the
farmhouse of the Alertans. Two days had passed since my
terrible adventure in the Blue John Gap. It seems that
I had lain all night in the cave, insensible from
concussion of the brain, with my left arm and two
ribs badly fractured. In the morning, my note had been found,
(43:00):
A search party of a dozen farmers assembled, and I
had been tracked down and carried back to my bedroom,
where I had lain in high delirium. Ever since, there
was it seems, no sign of the creature, and no
blood stain which would show that my bullet had found
him as he passed. Save for my own plight and
(43:21):
the marks upon the mud, there was nothing to prove
that what I said was true. Six weeks have now elapsed,
and I am able to sit out once more in
the sunshine. Just opposite me is the steep hillside gray
with shaly rock and yonder. On its flank is the
(43:43):
dark cleft which marks the opening of the Blue John Gap.
But it is no longer a source of terror. Never
again through that ill omened tunnel shall any strained shape
flit out into the world of men. The educated and
anentific The doctor Johnson's and the like may smile at
(44:03):
my narrative, but the poorer folk of the countryside had
never a doubt as to its truth. On the day
after my recovering consciousness, they assembled in the hundreds round
the Blue John Gap. As the castle and couriers said,
it was useless for our correspondent, or for any of
(44:26):
the adventurous gentlemen who had come from Madlock, Buxton and
other parts, to offer to descend, to explore the cave
to the end, and could finally test the extraordinary narrative
of doctor James Hardcastle. The country people had taken the
matter into their own hands, and from an early hour
of the morning they had worked hard in stopping up
(44:47):
the entrance of the tunnel. There's a sharp slope where
the shaft begins, and great bowlders rolled along by. Many
willing hands were thrust down it until the gap was
absolutely seen, so ends the episode which had caused such
excitement throughout the country. Local opinion is fiercely divided upon
(45:09):
the subject. On the one hand, are those who point
to doctor Hardcastle's impaired health and to the possibility of
celebrial lesions of tubercular origin giving rise to strange hallucinations.
Some edifix, according to these gentlemen, caused the doctor to
wander down the tunnel, and a fall among the rocks
(45:31):
was sufficient to account for his injuries. On the other hand,
a legend of a strange creature in the gap has
existed for some months back, and the farmers look upon
doctor Hardcastle's narrative and his personal injuries as a final corroboration.
So the matter stands, and so the matter will continue
(45:52):
to stand. For no definite solution seems to us to
be now possible. It transcends human wit to give any
scientific explanation which could cover the alleged facts. Perhaps before
the courier published these words, they should have been wise
(46:13):
to send their representative to me. I have thought the
matter out, as no one else has occasion to do,
and it is possible that I might have removed some
of the more obvious difficulties of the narrative and brought
it one degree nearer to scientific acceptance. Let me then
write down the only explanation which seems to me to
(46:36):
elucidate what I know, to my cost to have been
a series of facts. My theory may seem to be
wildly improbable, but at least no one can venture to
say that it is impossible. My view is, and it
was formed, as is shown by my diary before my
(46:57):
personal adventure, that in this part of England there is
a vast subterranean lake or sea, which is fed by
a great number of streams which pass down through the limestone.
Where there is a large collection of water, there must
also be some evaporation mists or rain, and a possibility
of vegetation. This in turn suggests that there may be
(47:21):
animal life arising, as the vegetable life would also do
from those seeds and types which had been introduced at
an early period of the world's history, when communication with
the outer air was more easy. The place had then
developed a fauna and flora of its own, including such
(47:42):
monsters as the one which I had seen, which may
well have been the old cave bear enormously enlarged and
modified by its new environment. For countless eons, the internal
and the external creation had kept apart, growing steadily away
from it each other. Then there had come some rift
(48:03):
in the depth of the mountain, which had enabled one
creature to wander up, and, by means of the Roman tunnel,
to reach the open air. Like all subterranean life, it
had lost the power of sight, But this had no
doubt been compensated for by nature and other directions. Certainly
(48:26):
it had some means of finding its way about, and
of hunting down the sheep upon the hillside. As to
its choice of dark nights, it is part of my
theory that light was painful to those great white eyeballs,
and that it was only a pitch black world which
it could tolerate. Perhaps, indeed, it was the glare of
(48:48):
my lantern which saved my life at that awful moment
when we were face to face. So I read the riddle.
I leave these facts behind me, And if you can
explain them, do so, Or if you choose to doubt them,
do so. Neither your belief nor your incredulity can alter them,
(49:12):
nor effect one whose task is nearly over so ended
the strange narrative of doctor James Hardcastle. End of the
(49:33):
Terror of Blue John Gap by Arthur Conan Doyle, recording
by Igor ti Foray in Magdnburg, Germany, eighteenth of June
two thousand and seven.
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