The Cats of Ulthar

by H. P. Lovecraft

　　It is said that in Ulthar, which lies beyond the river Skai, no man maykill a cat; and this I can verily believe as I gaze upon him who sitteth purringbefore the fire. For the cat is cryptic, and close to strange things which mencannot see. He is the soul of antique Aegyptus, and bearer of tales fromforgotten cities in Meroe and Ophir. He is the kin of the jungles lords, andheir to the secrets of hoary and sinister Africa. The Sphinx is his cousin, andhe speaks her language; but he is more ancient than the Sphinx, and remembersthat which she hath forgotten.In Ulthar, before ever the burgesses forbade the killing of cats, theredwelt an old cotter and his wife who delighted to trap and slay the cats oftheir neighbors. Why they did this I know not; save that many hate the voice ofthe cat in the night, and take it ill that cats should run stealthily aboutyards and gardens at twilight. But whatever the reason, this old man and womantook pleasure in trapping and slaying every cat which came near to their hovel;and from some of the sounds heard after dark, many villagers fancied that themanner of slaying was exceedingly peculiar. But the villagers did not discusssuch things with the old man and his wife; because of the habitual expression onthe withered faces of the two, and because their cottage was so small and sodarkly hidden under spreading oaks at the back of a neglected yard. In truth,much as the owners of cats hated these odd folk, they feared them more; andinstead of berating them as brutal assassins, merely took care that no cherishedpet or mouser should stray toward the remote hovel under the dark trees. Whenthrough some unavoidable oversight a cat was missed, and sounds heard afterdark, the loser would lament impotently; or console himself by thanking Fatethat it was not one of his children who had thus vanished. For the people ofUlthar were simple, and knew not whence it is all cats first came.One day a caravan of strange wanderers from the South entered the narrowcobbled streets of Ulthar. Dark wanderers they were, and unlike the other rovingfolk who passed through the village twice every year. In the market-place theytold fortunes for silver, and bought gay beads from the merchants. What was theland of these wanderers none could tell; but it was seen that they were given tostrange prayers, and that they had painted on the sides of their wagons strangefigures with human bodies and the heads of cats, hawks, rams and lions. And theleader of the caravan wore a headdress with two horns and a curious disk betwixtthe horns.There was in this singular caravan a little boy with no father or mother,but only a tiny black kitten to cherish. The plague had not been kind to him,yet had left him this small furry thing to mitigate his sorrow; and when one isvery young, one can find great relief in the lively antics of a black kitten. Sothe boy whom the dark people called Menes smiled more often than he wept as hesat playing with his graceful kitten on the steps of an oddly painted wagon.On the third morning of the wanderers stay in Ulthar, Menes could notfind his kitten; and as he sobbed aloud in the market-place certain villagerstold him of the old man and his wife, and of sounds heard in the night. And whenhe heard these things his sobbing gave place to meditation, and finally toprayer. He stretched out his arms toward the sun and prayed in a tongue novillager could understand; though indeed the villagers did not try very hard tounderstand, since their attention was mostly taken up by the sky and the oddshapes the clouds were assuming. It was very peculiar, but as the little boyuttered his petition there seemed to form overhead the shadowy, nebulous figuresof exotic things; of hybrid creatures crowned with horn-flanked disks. Nature isfull of such illusions to impress the imaginative.That night the wanderers left Ulthar, and were never seen again. And thehouseholders were troubled when they noticed that in all the village there wasnot a cat to be found. From each hearth the familiar cat had vanished; catslarge and small, black, grey, striped, yellow and white. Old Kranon, theburgomaster, swore that the dark folk had taken the cats away in revenge for thekilling of Menes kitten; and cursed the caravan and the little boy. But Nith,the lean notary, declared that the old cotter and his wife were more likelypersons to suspect; for their hatred of cats was notorious and increasinglybold. Still, no one durst complain to the sinister couple; even when littleAtal, the innkeepers son, vowed that he had at twilight seen all the cats ofUlthar in that accursed yard under the trees, pacing very slowly and solemnly ina circle around the cottage, two abreast, as if in performance of some unheard-ofrite of beasts. The villagers did not know how much to believe from so smalla boy; and though they feared that the evil pair had charmed the cats to theirdeath, they preferred not to chide the old cotter till they met him outside hisdark and repellent yard.So Ulthar went to sleep in vain anger; and when the people awakened atdawnbehold! every cat was back at his accustomed hearth! Large and small,black, grey, striped, yellow and white, none was missing. Very sleek and fat didthe cats appear, and sonorous with purring content. The citizens talked with oneanother of the affair, and marveled not a little. Old Kranon again insisted thatit was the dark folk who had taken them, since cats did not return alive fromthe cottage of the ancient man .and his wife. But all agreed on one thing: thatthe refusal of all the cats to eat their portions of meat or drink their saucersof milk was exceedingly curious. And for two whole days the sleek, lazy cats ofUlthar would touch no food, but only doze by the fire or in the sun.It was fully a week before the villagers noticed that no lights wereappearing at dusk in the windows of the cottage under the trees. Then the leanNith remarked that no one had seen the old man or his wife since the night thecats were away. In another week the burgomaster decided to overcome his fearsand call at the strangely silent dwelling as a matter of duty, though in sodoing he was careful to take with him Shang the blacksmith and Thul the cutterof stone as witnesses. And when they had broken down the frail door they foundonly this: two cleanly picked human skeletons on the earthen floor, and a numberof singular beetles crawling in the shadowy corners.There was subsequently much talk among the burgesses of Ulthar. Zath, thecoroner, disputed at length with Nith, the lean notary; and Kranon and Shang andThul were overwhelmed with questions. Even little Atal, the innkeepers son, wasclosely questioned and given a sweetmeat as reward. They talked of the oldcotter and his wife, of the caravan of dark wanderers, of small Menes and hisblack kitten, of the prayer of Menes and of the sky during that prayer, of thedoings of the cats on the night the caravan left, and of what was later found inthe cottage under the dark trees in the repellent yard.And in the end the burgesses passed that remarkable law which is told ofby traders in Hatheg and discussed by travelers in Nir; namely, that in Ultharno man may kill a cat.