Dyer and Danforth then stumble upon signs that someone dragging a sled had passed by, and they follow it, finding first some huge albino penguins, then the sled with the remains of Gedney and a dog, then a group of decapitated Old Ones, restored from suspended animation by being thawed in Lake’s camp. Then they hear an anomalous sound—a musical piping over a wide range. Could it be some other Old Ones? They flee madly, but they simultaneously turn their flashlights upon the thing for an instant and find that it is a shoggoth: “It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train—a shapeless congeries of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and unforming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor that it and its kind had swept so evilly free of all litter.” As they fly back to camp, Danforth shrieks in horror: he has seen something that unhinges his mind, but he refuses to tell Dyer what it is. All he can do is make the eldritch cry,
The novel is the culmination of HPL’s lifelong fascination with the Antarctic, beginning when as a boy he had written treatises on
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It is possible to conjecture what led HPL to write the novel when he did. The lead story in the November 1930
HPL was also inspired by the paintings of the Himalayas by Nicholai Roerich (1874–1947), seen the previous year at the Roerich Museum when it opened in New York. Roerich is mentioned six times in the novel. HPL probably did not set the tale in the Himalayas both because they were fairly well known and because he wanted to create the sense of awe implicit in mountains taller than any yet discovered. Only the relatively uncharted Antarctic continent could fulfill both functions. The Old Ones are the real focus of the novel. HPL gradually transforms them from objects of terror to symbols for the best in humanity; as Dyer declares: “Poor devils! After all, they were not evil things of their kind. They were the men of another age and another order of being. Nature had played a hellish jest on them…and this was their tragic homecoming…. Scientists to the last—what had they done that we would not have done in their place? God, what intelligence and persistence! What a facing of the incredible, just as those carven kinsmen and forbears had faced things only a little less incredible! Radiates, vegetables, monstrosities, star-spawn—whatever they had been, they were men!”