Joel gently shoved his gun barrels across the log, cuddling the stock to his shoulder and slipping two fingers caressingly back and forth upon the triggers. Jake held the narrow dugout steady by a grip upon a fox-grape tendril.
A little wait and then the finish came!
Fishhead emerged from the cabin door and came down the narrow footpath to the water and out upon the water on his log.
He was barefooted and bareheaded, his cotton shirt open down the front to show his yellow neck and breast, his dungaree trousers held about his waist by a twisted tow string.
His broad splay feet, with the prehensile toes outspread, gripped the polished curve of the log as he moved along its swaying, dipping surface until he came to its outer end, and stood there erect, his chest filling, his chinless face lifted up, and something of mastership and dominion in his poise.
And then--his eye caught what another's eyes might have missed--the round, twin ends of the gun barrels, the fixed gleam of Jo
Still an effective horror story, whose biggest strength lies in its detailed setting. Lovecraft was a fan of the story, and it strongly influenced the latter's "Shadow over Innsmouth." Particularly recommended for Mythos fans, however the racial language may be very off-putting to some readers.