I started, naturally, for the 98th Amendment had made it illegal to even think about such depraved beverages. However, my friend had turned and was gliding down another street, evidently expecting me to follow, so I did so, and after traversing a number of dingy side streets, he stopped at a disreputable looking tenement house. There he whistled a jazz tune outlawed by the 74th Amendment, and the door swung slowly back. A face I recognized as belonging to Lloyd Nixon peered out warily: “Give me the pass word!” he hissed.
“Dancing Lessons” came the blood curdling and entirely illegal reply. (See Amendment No. 29) The door keeper stepped back and we entered. We passed through a shadowy hallway, and then to my amazement entered such a place as I had never dreamed existed in the modern world. Carefully curtained so no light would betray its being, a great hallway flaunted the vice of a bygone age before my scandalized vision. Upon one side a cold drink fountain ran the full length of the house, and there leering youths served smuggled coco cola, lemon phosphate and cream sodas to the debauched mob that swarmed about it like lost souls. Turning from this sodden and shameful scene, I saw various couples engaged in games long ago forbidden. Ah, it was a harrowing sight. Just as if the world had been transported back to those days of vice and sin some twenty years ago before the Prevention of Everything League made the world safe for Democracy by abolishing golf, soft drinks and hair nets.
Here and there I saw acquaintances of mine: Honk Irving was drinking a lemon milkshake in a most abandoned manner; Driscoll Smith was eating candy; and as I looked a bar-tender set a rare bottle of hair tonic upon the bar and Carl Macon with a hideous leer, seized it and applied it to his beard, laughing fiendishly. There in a corner sat Harvey Stanford and Vic Urban engaged in a game of — I shudder to repeat it — Checkers! Vice was free, brazen and unchecked, and I thought of how some of them had appeared twenty years ago, proud, strong handsome young men, just launching their ships upon the seas of Destiny — and now, depraved slaves of chocolates, sodas and tiddlywinks, followers of secret sins and forbidden vices! Just then somebody sprang upon the bar, and shouted something, whereupon the inhabitants of that Unknown Temple of iniquity rushed to the center of the house with yowls and yells of depraved delight — the crowning Vice was about to be perpetrated — a horseshoe tournament was taking place. That was too much. Swiftly I fled through the window, wondering if my immortal soul had become contaminated. Then I awoke, firmly resolved to vote a wet ballot next year.
THE END
Short Stories Index
The house in Cross Plains, Texas, where Howard spent most of his adult life. The building now functions as a museum dedicated to the author.
LIST OF SHORT STORIES IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER
A-D E-H I-L M-O P-S T-V W-Z
A GENT FROM BEAR CREEK
A RING-TAILED TORNADO; OR, TEXAS JOHN ALDEN
A WITCH SHALL BE BORN
AFTER THE GAME
AHA! OR THE MYSTERY OF THE QUEEN’S NECKLACE
ALLEYS OF PERIL; OR, LEATHER LIGHTNING
BEYOND THE BLACK RIVER
BLACK CANAAN
BLACK COLOSSUS
BLACK HOUND OF DEATH
BLACK TALONS; OR, TALONS IN THE DARK
BLACK VULMEA’S VENGEANCE
BLOOD OF THE GODS
BLOW THE CHINKS DOWN!; OR, THE HOUSE OF PERIL
BOOT-HILL PAYOFF
BREED OF BATTLE; OR, THE FIGHTIN’EST PAIR; SAMPSON HAD A SOFT SPOT
CHAMP OF THE FORECASTLE; OR, CHAMP OF THE SEVEN SEAS
CIRCUS FISTS; OR, SLUGGER BAIT
CUPID FROM BEAR CREEKK; OR, THE PEACEFUL PILGRIM
CUPID VS. POLLUX
DARK SHANGHAI; OR, ONE SHANGHAI NIGHT
DIG ME NO GRAVE; OR, JOHN GRIMLAN’S DEBT
DRUMS OF THE SUNSET; OR, RIDERS OF THE SUNSET
EVIL DEEDS AT RED COUGAR
FANGS OF GOLD; OR, PEOPLE OF THE SERPENT
FIST AND FANG; OR, CANNIBAL FISTS
GATES OF EMPIRE; OR, THE ROAD OF THE MOUNTAIN LION
GENERAL IRONFIST
GODS OF THE NORTH; OR, THE FROST GIANT’S DAUGHTER
GOLDEN HOPE CHRISTMAS
GRAVEYARD RATS
GUNS OF THE MOUNTAINS
HALT! WHO GOES THERE?
HAWK OF THE HILLS
HAWKS OF OUTREMER
HIGH HORSE RAMPAGE
IN THE FOREST OF VILLEFÈRE
IRON SHADOWS IN THE MOON; OR, SHADOWS IN THE MOONLIGHT
JEWELS OF GWAHLUR
LORD OF SAMARCAND; OR, THE LAME MAN
MAN-EATERS OF ZAMBOULA; OR, SHADOWS IN ZAMBOULA
MOUNTAIN MAN
NAMES IN THE BLACK BOOK
NIGHT OF BATTLE; OR, SHORE LEAVE FOR A SLUGGER
NO COWHERDERS WANTED; OR, GENTS IN BUCKSKIN
PEOPLE OF THE DARK
PILGRIMS TO THE PECOS; OR, WEARY PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD
PISTOL POLITICS
QUEEN OF THE BLACK COAST
RATTLE OF BONES
RED BLADES OF BLACK CATHAY
RED NAILS
RED SHADOWS; OR, SOLOMON KANE
ROGUES IN THE HOUSE
SAILOR’S GRUDGE; OR, COSTIGAN VS. KID CAMERA
SEA CURSE
SHARP’S GUN SERENADE; OR, EDUCATE OR BUST
SHE DEVIL
SKULLS IN THE STARS
SLEEPING BEAUTY
SLUGGERS OF THE BEACH
SON OF THE WHITE WOLF
SPEAR AND FANG
SWORDS OF THE RED BROTHERHOOD
TEXAS FISTS; OR, SHANGHIED MITTS
TEXAS JOHN ALDEN; OR, A RING-TAILED TORNADO
THE APACHE MOUNTAIN WAR
THE APPARITION IN THE PRIZE RING
THE BLOOD OF BELSHAZZAR
THE BULL-DOG BREED; OR, YOU GOT TO KILL A BULLDOG
THE CAIRN ON THE HEADLAND
THE CHALLENGE FROM BEYOND
THE CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT
THE CONQUERIN’ HERO OF THE HUMBOLTS; OR, POLITICS AT BLUE LIZARD; POLITICS AT LONESOME LIZARD
THE COUNTRY OF THE KNIFE; OR, SONS OF THE HAWK
THE DAUGHTER OF ERLIK KHAN
THE DEVIL IN IRON
THE DRAGON OF KAO TSU
THE FEARSOME TOUCH OF DEATH
THE FEUD BUSTER
THE FIRE OF ASSHURBANIPAL
THE GARDEN OF FEAR
THE GRISLY HORROR; OR, MOON OF ZAMBEBWEI
THE HAUNTED MOUNTAIN
THE HAUNTER OF THE RING
THE HYENA
THE IRON MAN; OR, FALL GUY; IRON MEN
THE ISLE OF PIRATE’S DOOM
THE LION OF TIBERIAS
THE LOST RACE
THE LOST VALLEY OF ISKANDER; OR, SWORDS OF THE HILLS
THE MIRRORS OF TUZUN THUNE
THE PHOENIX ON THE SWORD
THE PIT OF THE SERPENT; OR, MANILA MANSLAUGHTER
THE POOL OF THE BLACK ONE
THE PURPLE HEART OF ERLIK
THE REFORMATION: A DREAM
THE RIOT AT COUGAR PAW
THE ROAD TO BEAR CREEK
THE SCALP HUNTER; OR, A STRANGER IN GRIZZLY CLAW
THE SCARLET CITADEL
THE SHADOW KINGDOM
THE SHADOW OF THE VULTURE
THE SHEIK
THE SIGN OF THE SNAKE
THE SLUGGER’S GAME
THE SOWERS OF THE THUNDER
THE THESSALIANS
THE TNT PUNCH; OR, WATERFRONT LAW; THE WATERFRONT WALLOP
THE TOMB’S SECRET; OR, THE TEETH OF DOOM
THE TOWER OF THE ELEPHANT
THE TREASURES OF TARTARY; OR, THE GOLD OF TATARY
THE VALLEY OF THE WORM
THE VOICE OF EL-LIL
THE VULTURES OF WHAPETON; OR, THE VULTURES; THE VULTURES OF TETON GULCH
THE WITCH FROM HELL’S KITCHEN; OR, THE HOUSE OF ARABU
UNHAND ME, VILLAIN!
VIKINGS OF THE GLOVES; OR, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN!
WAR ON BEAR CREEK
WATERFRONT FISTS; OR, STAND UP AND SLUG!
&
nbsp; WEEKLY SHORT STORY
WEST IS WEST
WHILE SMOKE ROLLED
WINNER TAKE ALL; OR, SUCKER FIGHT
WOLFSHEAD
XUTHAL OF THE DUSK; OR, THE SLITHERING SHADOW
YE COLLEGE DAYS
The Non-Fiction
Cross Plains First Baptist Church, Texas. The author’s mother had suffered from tuberculosis for many years and on June 11, 1936, she slipped into a final coma. After a nurse told Howard that his mother would never regain consciousness, he walked out to his car in the driveway, took the pistol from the glove box and shot himself in the head. He lived for another eight hours, dying at 4pm and his mother passed away the following day. On June 14, a double funeral service was held at Cross Plains First Baptist Church and mother and son were buried in Greenleaf Cemetery in Brownwood, Texas.
Howard, c. 1929
LIST OF ESSAYS AND ARTICLES
CONTENTS
The Hyborian Age: Conan’s World
The Beast from the Abyss
Midnight
With a Set of Rattlesnake Rattles
The Hyborian Age: Conan’s World
First published in The Phantagraph, February 1936
Nothing in this article is to be considered as an attempt to advance any theory in opposition to accepted history. It is simply a fictional background for a series of fiction-stories. When I began writing the Conan stories a few years ago, I prepared this ‘history’ of his age and the peoples of that age, in order to lend him and his sagas a greater aspect of realness. And I found that by adhering to the ‘facts’ and spirit of that history, in writing the stories, it was easier to visualize (and therefore to present) him as a real flesh-and-blood character rather than a ready-made product. In writing about him and his adventures in the various kingdoms of his Age, I have never violated the ‘facts’ or spirit of the ‘history’ here set down, but have followed the lines of that history as closely as the writer of actual historical-fiction follows the lines of actual history. I have used this ‘history’ as a guide in all the stories in this series that I have written.
* * *
OF that epoch known by the Nemedian chroniclers as the Pre-Cataclysmic Age, little is known except the latter part, and that is veiled in the mists of legendry. Known history begins with the waning of the Pre-Cataclysmic civilization, dominated by the kingdoms of Kamelia, Valusia, Verulia, Grondar, Thule and Commoria. These peoples spoke a similar language, arguing a common origin. There were other kingdoms, equally civilized, but inhabited by different, and apparently older races.
The barbarians of that age were the Picts, who lived on islands far out on the western ocean; the Adanteans, who dwelt on a small continent between the Pictish Islands and the main, or Thurian Continent; and the Lemurians, who inhabited a chain of large islands in the eastern hemisphere.
There were vast regions of unexplored land. The civilized kingdoms, though enormous in extent, occupied a comparatively small portion of the whole planet. Valusia was the western-most kingdom of the Thurian Continent; Grondar the eastern-most. East of Grondar, whose people were less highly cultured than those of their kindred kingdoms, stretched a wild and barren expanse of deserts. Among the less arid stretches of desert, in the jungles, and among the mountains, lived scattered clans and tribes of primitive savages. Far to the south there was a mysterious civilization, unconnected with the Thurian culture, and apparently pre-human in its nature. On the far-eastern shores of the Continent there lived another race, human, but mysterious and non-Thurian, with which the Lemurians from time to time came in contact. They apparently came from a shadowy and nameless continent lying somewhere east of the Lemurian Islands.
The Thurian civilization was crumbling; their armies were composed largely of barbarian mercenaries. Picts, Atlanteans and Lemurians were their generals, their statesmen, often their kings. Of the bickerings of the kingdoms, and the wars between Valusia and Commoria, as well as the conquests by which the Atlanteans founded a kingdom on the mainland, there were more legends than accurate history.
Then the Cataclysm rocked the world. Atlantis and Lemuria sank, and the Pictish Islands were heaved up to form the mountain peaks of a new continent. Sections of the Thurian Continent vanished under the waves, or sinking, formed great inland lakes and seas. Volcanoes broke forth and terrific earthquakes shook down the shining cities of the empires. Whole nations were blotted out.
The barbarians fared a little better than the civilized races. The inhabitants of the Pictish Islands were destroyed, but a great colony of them, settled among the mountains of Valusia’s southern frontier, to serve as a buffer against foreign invasion, was untouched. The Continental kingdom of the Atlanteans likewise escaped the common ruin, and to it came thousands of their tribesmen in ships from the sinking land. Many Lemurians escaped to the eastern coast of the Thurian Continent, which was comparatively untouched. There they were enslaved by the ancient race which already dwelt there, and their history, for thousands of years, is a history of brutal servitude.
In the western part of the Continent, changing conditions created strange forms of plant and animal life. Thick jungles covered the plains, great rivers cut their roads to the sea, wild mountains were heaved up, and lakes covered the ruins of old cities in fertile valleys. To the Continental kingdom of the Atlanteans, from sunken areas, swarmed myriads of beasts and savages – ape-men and apes. Forced to battle continually for their lives, they yet managed to retain vestiges of their former state of highly advanced barbarism. Robbed of metals and ores, they became workers in stone like their distant ancestors, and had attained a real artistic level, when their struggling culture came into contact with the powerful Pictish nation. The Picts had also reverted to flint, but had advanced more rapidly in the matter of population and war-science. They had none of the Atlanteans’ artistic nature; they were a ruder, more practical, more prolific race. They left no pictures painted or carved on ivory, as did their enemies, but they left remarkably efficient flint weapons in plenty.
These stone-age kingdoms clashed, and in a series of bloody wars, the outnumbered Atlanteans were hurled back into a state of savagery, and the evolution of the Picts was halted. Five hundred years after the Cataclysm the barbaric kingdoms have vanished. It is now a nation of savages — the Picts — carrying on continual warfare with tribes of savages — the Atlanteans. The Picts had the advantage of numbers and unity, whereas the Atlanteans had fallen into loosely knit clans. That was the west of that day.
In the distant east, cut off from the rest of the world by the heaving up of gigantic mountains and the forming of a chain of vast lakes, the Lemurians are toiling as slaves of their ancient masters. The far south is still veiled in mystery. Untouched by the Cataclysm, its destiny is still pre-human. Of the civilized races of the Thurian Continent, a remnant of one of the non-Valusian nations dwells among the low mountains of the southeast — the Zhemri. Here and there about the world are scattered clans of apish savages, entirely ignorant of the rise and fall of the great civilizations. But in the far north another people are slowly coming into existence.
At the time of the Cataclysm, a band of savages, whose development was not much above that of the Neanderthal, fled to the north to escape destruction. They found the snow-countries inhabited only by a species of ferocious snow-apes — huge shaggy white animals, apparently native to that climate. These they fought and drove beyond the Arctic circle, to perish, as the savages thought. The latter, then, adapted themselves to their hardy new environment and throve.
After the Pictish-Atlantean wars had destroyed the beginnings of what might have been a new culture, another, lesser cataclysm further altered the appearance of the original continent, left a great inland sea where the chain of lakes had been, to further separate west from east, and the attendant earthquakes, floods and volcanoes completed the ruin of the barbarians which their tribal wars had begun.
A thousand years after the lesser cataclysm, the western world is seen to be a wild cou
ntry of jungles and lakes and torrential rivers. Among the forest- covered hills of the northwest exist wandering bands of ape-men, without human speech, or the knowledge of fire or the use of implements. They are the descendants of the Atlanteans, sunk back into the squalling chaos of jungle- bestiality from which ages ago their ancestors so laboriously crawled. To the southwest dwell scattered clans of degraded, cave-dwelling savages, whose speech is of the most primitive form, yet who still retain the name of Picts, which has come to mean merely a term designating men — themselves, to distinguish them from the true beasts with which they contend for life and food. It is their only link with their former stage. Neither the squalid Picts nor the apish Atlanteans have any contact with other tribes or peoples.
Far to the east, the Lemurians, levelled almost to a bestial plane themselves by the brutishness of their slavery, have risen and destroyed their masters. They are savages stalking among the ruins of a strange civilization. The survivors of that civilization, who have escaped the fury of their slaves, have come westward. They fall upon that myterious pre-human kingdom of the south and overthrow it, substituting their own culture, modified by contact with the older one. The newer kingdom is called Stygia, and remnants of the older nation seemed to have survived, and even been worshipped, after the race as a whole had been destroyed.
Here and there in the world small groups of savages are showing signs of an upward trend; these are scattered and unclassified. But in the north, the tribes are growing. These people are called Hyborians, or Hybori; their god was Bori — some great chief, whom legend made even more ancient as the king who led them into the north, in the days of the great Cataclysm, which the tribes remember only in distorted folklore.
They have spread over the north, and are pushing southward in leisurely treks. So far they have not come in contact with any other races; their wars have been with one another. Fifteen hundred years in the north country have made them a tall, tawny-haired, grey-eyed race, vigorous and warlike, and already exhibiting a well-defined artistry and poetism of nature. They still live mostly by the hunt, but the southern tribes have been raising cattle for some centuries. There is one exception in their so far complete isolation from other races: a wanderer into the far north returned with the news that the supposedly deserted ice wastes were inhabited by an extensive tribe of ape-like men, descended, he swore, from the beasts driven out of the more habitable land by the ancestors of the Hyborians. He urged that a large war-party be sent beyond the arctic circle to exterminate these beasts, whom he swore were evolving into true men. He was jeered at; a small band of adventurous young warriors followed him into the north, but none returned.
Delphi Works of Robert E. Howard (Illustrated) (Series Four) Page 408
