Abraham Merritt

Abraham Merritt

Summary

Portrait of Abraham Merritt Abraham Merritt The Conquest of the Moon Pool… (1919)

Back, back were the Akka being swept, as though by brooms, tottering on the edge of the ledge, falling into the waters. Swiftly they were finished; and where they had fought was an eddying throng of women and men, clothed in tatters, swaying, drifting, arms tossing—like marionettes of Satan.
The dead-alive! The slaves of the Dweller!
They swayed and tossed, and then, like water racing through an opened dam, they swept upon the bridge-head. On and on they pushed like the bore of a mighty tide. The frog-men strove against them, clubbing, spearing, tearing them.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Abraham Merritt Abraham Merritt The Conquest of the Moon Pool… (1919)

Unhesitating, always with that same high serenity, Lakla and the O'Keefe, hands clasped like little children, drew closer to that wondrous shape of nebulous flame. I could not see their faces, but I saw awe fall upon those of the watching dwarfs, and into the burning eyes of Yolara crept a doubt.
Closer they drew to the Dweller, and closer, I following them step by step. The Shining One's whirling lessened: its tinklings were faint, almost stilled. It seemed to watch them apprehensively. A silence fell upon us all, thick silence, brooding, ominous, palpable.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Abraham Merritt Abraham Merritt The Conquest of the Moon Pool… (1919)

And thus died Olaf Huldricksson, one of those upon whom the Dweller's blight had fallen, helping to save his fellow men from the Dweller's soul-destroying curse. Simple-hearted as a child, faithful, fearless, worthy of any of his conquering forefathers, and passing away even as they would have elected to go—and in their ancient faith. Wounds enough to have killed four lesser men he had got in that battle wherein, without him, Lugur's men could not have been held.
Source: Wikisource

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