“Just then it happened. It must have been four in the afternoon; the sun’s rays filtered through the forest at a pronounced angle, although it was still daylight. The dwarf had been staring out the window all day; long after the rest of us had turned away from the overpowering stillness, he continued to peer into the gloom. Several times he tugged at the wizard’s sleeve to point out some feature of the forest that the gnome found of especial interest—he alone of us seemed enraptured, oblivious to the looming sense of disaster. Now again the dwarf tugged at his master’s sleeve; nothing to note—but perhaps it was the look in his eyes, impossible to recapture. Whatever it was, I was moved to peer out the window. For a moment I saw nothing; nothing—a gloom; massed trees; immensity of forest. Then—a hint of motion; vagueness—I thought, an animal disturbed by the passing coach; but then, just then—suddenly—like the veil of fog stripped for an instant from the unremarked wave just when it crests; an empty casket just then mysteriously filled—I peered right through the dimness and the shrouding branches, became still—what was it? My blood congealed in my veins.
“The coach came to a sudden halt. The passengers were thrown about in confusion; before we could untangle ourselves the doors were flung wide; the driver and the guard piled in; slammed the doors behind; scrambled into the baggage racks above the seats; cowered behind the luggage. And now—this very moment—it was as if a wind swept away the gloom and for the first time we saw the forest clearly, saw it for what it was. Screams of horror rent the still arboreal air; the passengers swarmed with panic—Sir Carayne shouting at the guard and driver, ordering them to their duty; but they just burrowed deeper into the baggage. There was nothing to be done—we stared at one another with frozen eyes; immobilized—lost, doomed—gripped in terror.
“Just then the wizard looked up from his parchment and peered out the window. ‘Forest snarls!’ he exclaimed. ‘And most magnificent specimens of the breed!’ To our astonishment, he opened the door and stepped down. ‘Come, dwarf, this opportunity cannot be lost. It is extraordinarily rare that one has the opportunity to examine the forest snarl in his natural state; and there is no other, for the beasts cannot be kept in captivity.’ The dwarf, normally so timid, immediately followed his master, almost—I would have said—eagerly. Hastily we slammed the door behind them. The monsters beyond drew near; just then, from the forest, moved a wild and gorgeous apparition of a woman.
“She walked with measured steps, draped in striped and fringed cloths, treading the earth proudly, with a slight jingle and flap of barbarous ornaments, carrying her head high—her hair in the shape of a helmet—her breasts high—her buttocks high—everything high! She had brass leggings, brass gauntlets, brass breastplates, brass bellyband, brass buttplates—a tawny flush on her dusky cheek; a set of six necklaces of beads and cowry shells on her sultry neck—charms, bizarre things hanging from every part of her voluptuous body—you’d hardly think she could walk—but what a body!—did I mention that?—she was savage and superb and wild-eyed and magnificent and unblushing and brazen-faced and immodest and—
” ‘What a piece!’ cried Sir Carayne. A vast and guttural roar rose from the great throats of every snarl lurking in the forest. The knight blanched and fell back; all concupiscence fled from his face—mine too—then—suddenly; she opened her arms and threw them rigid over her head, as though in an uncontrollable desire to touch the sky; the swift shadows darted out from the trees, onto the path, gathering the coach in their embrace. Then, staring directly at the wizard, she asked—’What do you seek?’
” ‘I myself, madame,’ we heard the wizard speak, ‘wish to advance my knowledge of the lore of snarls. There is a great mystery which surrounds these beasts, which I have not yet fathomed. It emerges even in the most ancient texts.’
“Silence; then—astonishing! The monsters suddenly circled the dwarf, sat back on their huge haunches, gazed down at the gnome with an intensity impossible to describe. They whined softly in their throats, as if puzzled and confused. For his part, the little runt stared back, completely unafraid—or so it seemed. Then, the woman spoke again. ‘If you would know about the snarls, ask them,’ she said to the wizard; a motion of her hand—the largest of the monsters left the circle around the dwarf and padded over to stand, like a statue, before the sorcerer.