"If you do not stop ... we will kill you!"
I turned off the apparatus, but the powerful bell tone continued to
pound incessantly into my brain.
I laughed. They'd kill me ... would they? Those tiny insects ... what
could they do? Well--let them try, but I'd get what I was after. I would
not quit now, with success so near. What if my transmissions did kill a
few of them? Of what importance were the lives of a few ants as compared
to the advancement of the science of Communication?
* * * * *
_Feb. 9._
I found myself digging again in the back yard yesterday. As before, I
had been "day-dreaming," when an overwhelming desire to go outside and
feel the cool moist earth between my fingers and on my face took
possession of me.
I rushed out into the back yard, and began digging feverishly ... madly,
until finally I fell, exhausted. Then my mind cleared and I filled in
the hole.
About half the ants have died, due no doubt to the strength of my
radiations. No matter how low I cut the power, they still cannot live
but a short time under the force of my transmissions. They have stopped
sending thought impressions entirely, and are using only their
"clacking" code signals, which they seem to realize I cannot understand.
I feel that they are undertaking some sort of campaign against me. For
hours they congregate, closely packed, their antennae stiffly pointed
straight up. Their thought currents seem to be flowing into and merging
with the bell tone, which grows stronger and more penetrating day by
day.
In my back yard, there are four large ant hills, and at each hill,
curiously, there is no activity except the same mass concentration of
the ants. Have they, too, been affected by my radiations and joined
forces with the original colony against myself?
The bell tone continues to grow stronger.
* * * * *
_Feb. 11_
Mrs. Winslow, the middle-aged widow, who comes to clean my house and
laboratory twice a week, was here this morning.
She is short, dumpy, and inclined to be stout. As she went about her
work, I noticed particularly the fat firm flesh of her neck, just below
the jaw. I felt an uncontrollable desire to sink my teeth deep into that
flesh, and enjoy the taste of the warm fresh blood.
I had actually risen from my chair to accomplish my desire, when the
telephone rang ... and my mind cleared.
* * * * *
_Feb. 14._