Welcome to the3 Books To Knowseries, our idea is to help readers learn about fascinating topics through three essential and relevant books. These carefully selected works can be fiction, non-fiction, historical documents or even biographies. We will always select for you three great works to instigate your mind, this time the topic is:Weird West. – The Mound – H. P. Lovecraft – The Horror from the Mound by Robert E. Howard – The Dead Remember by Robert E. HowardWeird West is a subgenre that combines elements of the Western with another genre, usually horror, occult, fantasy, or science fiction. When supernatural menaces of horror fiction are injected into a Western setting, it creates the horror Western. Writer G.W. Thomas has described how the two combine: «Unlike many other cross-genre tales, the weird Western uses both elements but with very little loss of distinction. The Western setting is decidedly 'Western' and the horror elements are obviously 'horror.'» This is one of many books in the series 3 Books To Know. If you liked this book, look for the other titles in the series, we are sure you will like some of the topics.
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Robert E. Howard. 3 books to know Weird West
Table of Contents
Introduction
Authors
The Mound
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Part VI
Part VII
The Horror from the Mound
The Dead Remember
STATEMENT OF JOHN ELSTON, NOVEMBER 4, 1877
STATEMENT OF MIKE O'DONNELL
STATEMENT OF DEPUTY GRIMES
STATEMENT OF TOM ALLISON
CORONER'S REPORT
About the Publisher
Отрывок из книги
Title Page
Introduction
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BUT I WAS IN NO MOOD for advice; and though Compton gave me a pleasant room, I could not sleep a wink through eagerness for the next morning with its chances to see the daytime ghost and to question the Indians at the reservation. I meant to go about the whole thing slowly and thoroughly, equipping myself with all available data both white and red before I commenced any actual archaeological investigations. I rose and dressed at dawn, and when I heard others stirring I went downstairs. Compton was building the kitchen fire while his mother was busy in the pantry. When he saw me he nodded, and after a moment invited me out into the glamorous young sunlight. I knew where we were going, and as we walked along the lane I strained my eyes westward over the plains.
There was the mound—far away and very curious in its aspect of artificial regularity. It must have been from thirty to forty feet high, and all of a hundred yards from north to south as I looked at it. It was not as wide as that from east to west, Compton said, but had the contour of a rather thinnish ellipse. He, I knew, had been safely out to it and back several times. As I looked at the rim silhouetted against the deep blue of the west I tried to follow its minor irregularities, and became impressed with a sense of something moving upon it. My pulse mounted a bit feverishly, and I seized quickly on the high-powered binoculars which Compton had quietly offered me. Focussing them hastily, I saw at first only a tangle of underbrush on the distant mound’s rim—and then something stalked into the field.
