When the star-headed Old Ones on this planet had synthesized their
simple food forms and bred a good supply of Shoggoths, they allowed
other cell groups to develop into other forms of animal and vegetable
life for sundry purposes, extirpating any whose presence became
troublesome. With the aid of the Shoggoths, whose expansions could be made to lift
prodigious weights, the small, low cities under the sea grew to vast
and imposing labyrinths of stone not unlike those which later rose on
land. Indeed, the highly adaptable Old Ones had lived much on land in
other parts of the universe, and probably retained many traditions of
land construction. As we studied the architecture of all these sculptured Palæogæan
cities, including that whose æon-dead corridors we were even then
traversing, we were impressed by a curious coincidence which we have
not yet tried to explain, even to ourselves. The tops of the buildings,
which in the actual city around us had, of course, been weathered into
shapeless ruins ages ago, were clearly displayed in the bas-reliefs,
and showed vast clusters of needlelike spires, delicate finials
on certain cone and pyramid apexes, and tiers of thin, horizontal
scalloped disks capping cylindrical shafts. This was exactly what we had seen in that monstrous and portentous
mirage, cast by a dead city whence such sky-line features had been
absent for thousands and ten of thousands of years, which loomed on our
ignorant eyes across the unfathomed mountains of madness as we first
approached poor Lake's ill-fated camp. *       *       *       *       *

Of the life of the Old Ones, both under the sea and after part of them
migrated to land, volumes could be written. Those in shallow water had
continued the fullest use of the eyes at the ends of their five main
head tentacles, and had practiced the arts of sculpture and of writing
in quite the usual way--the writing accomplished with a stylus on
waterproof waxen surfaces. Those lower down in the ocean depths, though they used a curious
phosphorescent organism to furnish light, pieced out their vision with
obscure special senses operating through the prismatic cilia on their
heads--senses which rendered all the Old Ones partly independent of
light in emergencies. Their forms of sculpture and writing had changed
curiously during the descent, embodying certain apparently chemical
coating processes--probably to secure phosphorescence--which the
bas-reliefs could not make clear to us. The beings moved in the sea partly by swimming--using the lateral
crinoid arms--and partly by wriggling with the lower tier of tentacles
containing the pseudofeet. Occasionally they accomplished long swoops
with the auxiliary use of two or more sets of their fan-like folding
wings. On land they locally used the pseudofeet, but now and then flew to
great heights or over long distances with their wings. The many
slender tentacles into which the crinoid arms branched were infinitely
delicate, flexible, strong, and accurate in muscular-nervous
coördination--ensuring the utmost skill and dexterity in all artistic
and other manual operations. The toughness of the things was almost incredible. Even the terrific
pressure of the deepest sea bottoms appeared powerless to harm them. Very few seemed to die at all except by violence, and their burial
places were very limited. The facts that they covered their vertically
inhumed dead with five-pointed inscribed mounds set up thoughts in
Danforth and me which made a fresh pause and recuperation necessary
after the sculptures revealed it. [Illustration: _The toughness of the things was almost incredible. Even
terrific pressures were powerless to harm them!_]

The beings multiplied by means of spores--like vegetable pteridophyta,
as Lake had suspected--but, owing to their prodigious toughness and
longevity, and consequent lack of replacement needs, they did not
encourage the large-scale development of new prothallia except when
they had new regions to colonize. The young matured swiftly, and received an education evidently beyond
any standard we can imagine. The prevailing intellectual and æsthetic
life was highly evolved, and produced a tenaciously enduring set of
customs and institutions which I shall describe more fully in my coming
monograph. These varied slightly according to sea or land residence,
but had the same foundations and essentials. Though able, like vegetables, to derive nourishment from inorganic
substances; they vastly preferred organic and especially animal food. They ate uncooked marine life under the sea, but cooked their viands on
land. They hunted game and raised meat herds--slaughtering with sharp
weapons whose odd marks on certain fossil bones our expedition had
noted. They resisted all ordinary temperatures marvelously, and in their
natural state could live in water down to freezing. When the great
chill of the Pleistocene drew on, however--nearly a million years
ago--the land dwellers had to resort to special measures, including
artificial heating--until, at last, the deadly cold appears to have
driven them back into the sea. For their prehistoric flights through cosmic space, legend said, they
had absorbed certain chemicals and become almost independent of eating,
breathing, or heat conditions--but by the time of the great cold
they had lost track of the method. In any case, they could not have
prolonged the artificial state indefinitely without harm. Being nonpairing and semivegetable in structure, the Old Ones had
no biological basis for the family phase of mammal life, but seemed
to organize large households on the principles of comfortable
space-utility and--as we deduced from the pictured occupations and
diversions of codwellers--congenial mental association. In furnishing their homes they kept everything in the center of the
huge rooms, leaving all wall spaces free for decorative treatment. Lighting, in the case of the land inhabitants, was accomplished by a
device probably electro-chemical in nature. Both on land and under water they used curious tables, chairs and
couches like cylindrical frames--for they rested and slept upright with
folded-down tentacles--and racks for the hinged sets of dotted surfaces
forming their books. *       *       *       *       *

Government was evidently complex and probably socialistic, though no
certainties in this regard could be deduced from the sculptures we
saw. There was extensive commerce, both local and between different
cities--certain small, flat counters, five-pointed and inscribed,
serving as money. Probably the smaller of the various greenish
soapstones found by our expedition were pieces of such currency. Though the culture was mainly urban, some agriculture and much stock
raising existed. Mining and a limited amount of manufacturing were also
practiced. Travel was very frequent, but permanent migration seemed
relatively rare except for the vast colonizing movements by which the
race expanded.