The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3 — John Shaqi
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3Poe, Edgar Allan
General
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3
Poe, Edgar Allan
American fiction -- 19th century; Fantasy fiction; Horror tales, American
abandon; for such being the case, the brig must have frequently
gone about; and I was entirely satisfied, from her continual
inclination to the larboard, that she had been sailing all along
with a steady breeze on her starboard quarter. Besides, granting
that we were still in the neighborhood of the island, why should
not Augustus have visited me and informed me of the circumstance?
Pondering in this manner upon the difficulties of my solitary and
cheerless condition, I resolved to wait yet another twenty-four
hours, when, if no relief were obtained, I would make my way to
the trap, and endeavour either to hold a parley with my friend,
or get at least a little fresh air through the opening, and a
further supply of water from the stateroom. While occupied with
this thought, however, I fell in spite of every exertion to the
contrary, into a state of profound sleep, or rather stupor. My
dreams were of the most terrific description. Every species of
calamity and horror befell me. Among other miseries I was
smothered to death between huge pillows, by demons of the most
ghastly and ferocious aspect. Immense serpents held me in their
embrace, and looked earnestly in my face with their fearfully
shining eyes. Then deserts, limitless, and of the most forlorn
and awe-inspiring character, spread themselves out before me.
Immensely tall trunks of trees, gray and leafless, rose up in
endless succession as far as the eye could reach. Their roots
were concealed in wide-spreading morasses, whose dreary water lay
intensely black, still, and altogether terrible, beneath. And the
strange trees seemed endowed with a human vitality, and waving to
and fro their skeleton arms, were crying to the silent waters for
mercy, in the shrill and piercing accents of the most acute agony
and despair. The scene changed; and I stood, naked and alone,
amidst the burning sand-plains of Sahara. At my feet lay crouched
a fierce lion of the tropics. Suddenly his wild eyes opened and
fell upon me. With a conclusive bound he sprang to his feet, and
laid bare his horrible teeth. In another instant there burst from
his red throat a roar like the thunder of the firmament, and I
fell impetuously to the earth. Stifling in a paroxysm of terror,
I at last found myself partially awake. My dream, then, was not
all a dream. Now, at least, I was in possession of my senses. The
paws of some huge and real monster were pressing heavily upon my
bosom—his hot breath was in my ear—and his white and ghastly
fangs were gleaming upon me through the gloom.
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