The Lost World

By

SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

COPYRIGHT, 1912

Prepared and Published by:

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 Foreword
Mr. E. D. Malone desires to state that both the
injunction for restraint and the libel action have been
withdrawn unreservedly by Professor G. E. Challenger, who,
being satisfied that no criticism or comment in this book is
meant in an offensive spirit, has guaranteed that he will
place no impediment to its publication and circulation.

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 CHAPTER I
"There Are Heroisms All Round Us"

Mr. Hungerton, her father, really was the most tactless

person upon earth,—a fluffy, feathery, untidy cockatoo of a
man, perfectly good-natured, but absolutely centered upon
his own silly self. If anything could have driven me from
Gladys, it would have been the thought of such a father-in-
law. I am convinced that he really believed in his heart that I
came round to the Chestnuts three days a week for the
pleasure of his company, and very especially to hear his
views upon bimetallism, a subject upon which he was by
way of being an authority.

For an hour or more that evening I listened to his

monotonous chirrup about bad money driving out good, the
token value of silver, the depreciation of the rupee, and the
true standards of exchange.

"Suppose," he cried with feeble violence, "that all the

debts in the world were called up simultaneously, and
immediate payment insisted upon,—what under our present
conditions would happen then?"

I gave the self-evident answer that I should be a ruined

man, upon which he jumped from his chair, reproved me for
my habitual levity, which made it impossible for him to
discuss any reasonable subject in my presence, and bounced
off out of the room to dress for a Masonic meeting.

At last I was alone with Gladys, and the moment of Fate

had come! All that evening I had felt like the soldier who
awaits the signal which will send him on a forlorn hope;
hope of victory and fear of repulse alternating in his mind.

She sat with that proud, delicate profile of hers outlined

against the red curtain. How beautiful she was! And yet how
aloof! We had been friends, quite good friends; but never
could I get beyond the same comradeship which I might have
established with one of my fellow-reporters upon the
Gazette,—perfectly frank, perfectly kindly, and perfectly
unsexual. My instincts are all against a woman being too
frank and at her ease with me. It is no compliment to a man.
Where the real sex feeling begins, timidity and distrust are its
companions, heritage from old wicked days when love and
violence went often hand in hand. The bent head, the
averted eye, the faltering voice, the wincing figure—these,
and not the unshrinking gaze and frank reply, are the true
signals of passion. Even in my short life I had learned as
much as that—or had inherited it in that race memory which
we call instinct.

Gladys was full of every womanly quality. Some judged

her to be cold and hard; but such a thought was treason.
That delicately bronzed skin, almost oriental in its coloring,
that raven hair, the large liquid eyes, the full but exquisite
lips,—all the stigmata of passion were there. But I was sadly
conscious that up to now I had never found the secret of
drawing it forth. However, come what might, I should have
done with suspense and bring matters to a head to-night. She
could but refuse me, and better be a repulsed lover than an
accepted brother.
 So far my thoughts had carried me, and I was about to
break the long and uneasy silence, when two critical, dark
eyes looked round at me, and the proud head was shaken in
smiling reproof. "I have a presentiment that you are going to
propose, Ned. I do wish you wouldn't; for things are so much
nicer as they are."

I drew my chair a little nearer. "Now, how did you know

that I was going to propose?" I asked in genuine wonder.

"Don't women always know? Do you suppose any woman

in the world was ever taken unawares? But—oh, Ned, our
friendship has been so good and so pleasant! What a pity to
spoil it! Don't you feel how splendid it is that a young man
and a young woman should be able to talk face to face as we
have talked?"

"I don't know, Gladys. You see, I can talk face to face
with—with the station-master." I can't imagine how that
official came into the matter; but in he trotted, and set us
both laughing. "That does not satisfy me in the least. I want
my arms round you, and your head on my breast, and—oh,
Gladys, I want——"

She had sprung from her chair, as she saw signs that I
proposed to demonstrate some of my wants. "You've spoiled
everything, Ned," she said. "It's all so beautiful and natural
until this kind of thing comes in! It is such a pity! Why can't
you control yourself?"

"I didn't invent it," I pleaded. "It's nature. It's love."

"Well, perhaps if both love, it may be different. I have

never felt it."

"But you must—you, with your beauty, with your soul!

Oh, Gladys, you were made for love! You must love!"
 "One must wait till it comes."

"But why can't you love me, Gladys? Is it my appearance,

or what?"

She did unbend a little. She put forward a hand—such a

gracious, stooping attitude it was—and she pressed back my
head. Then she looked into my upturned face with a very
wistful smile.

"No it isn't that," she said at last. "You're not a conceited

boy by nature, and so I can safely tell you it is not that. It's
deeper."

"My character?"

She nodded severely.

"What can I do to mend it? Do sit down and talk it over.

No, really, I won't if you'll only sit down!"

She looked at me with a wondering distrust which was

much more to my mind than her whole-hearted confidence.
How primitive and bestial it looks when you put it down in
black and white!—and perhaps after all it is only a feeling
peculiar to myself. Anyhow, she sat down.

"Now tell me what's amiss with me?"

"I'm in love with somebody else," said she.

It was my turn to jump out of my chair.

"It's nobody in particular," she explained, laughing at the

expression of my face: "only an ideal. I've never met the kind
of man I mean."

"Tell me about him. What does he look like?"

 "Oh, he might look very much like you."

"How dear of you to say that! Well, what is it that he

does that I don't do? Just say the word,—teetotal, vegetarian,
aeronaut, theosophist, superman. I'll have a try at it, Gladys,
if you will only give me an idea what would please you."

She laughed at the elasticity of my character. "Well, in

the first place, I don't think my ideal would speak like that,"
said she. "He would be a harder, sterner man, not so ready
to adapt himself to a silly girl's whim. But, above all, he
must be a man who could do, who could act, who could look
Death in the face and have no fear of him, a man of great
deeds and strange experiences. It is never a man that I
should love, but always the glories he had won; for they
would be reflected upon me. Think of Richard Burton! When
I read his wife's life of him I could so understand her love!
And Lady Stanley! Did you ever read the wonderful last
chapter of that book about her husband? These are the sort
of men that a woman could worship with all her soul, and
yet be the greater, not the less, on account of her love,
honored by all the world as the inspirer of noble deeds."

She looked so beautiful in her enthusiasm that I nearly

brought down the whole level of the interview. I gripped
myself hard, and went on with the argument.

"We can't all be Stanleys and Burtons," said I; "besides,

we don't get the chance,—at least, I never had the chance. If
I did, I should try to take it."

"But chances are all around you. It is the mark of the

kind of man I mean that he makes his own chances. You
can't hold him back. I've never met him, and yet I seem to
know him so well. There are heroisms all round us waiting to
be done. It's for men to do them, and for women to reserve
their love as a reward for such men. Look at that young
Frenchman who went up last week in a balloon. It was
blowing a gale of wind; but because he was announced to go
he insisted on starting. The wind blew him fifteen hundred
miles in twenty-four hours, and he fell in the middle of
Russia. That was the kind of man I mean. Think of the
woman he loved, and how other women must have envied
her! That's what I should like to be,—envied for my man."

"I'd have done it to please you."

"But you shouldn't do it merely to please me. You should

do it because you can't help yourself, because it's natural to
you, because the man in you is crying out for heroic
expression. Now, when you described the Wigan coal
explosion last month, could you not have gone down and
helped those people, in spite of the choke-damp?"

"I did."

"You never said so."

"There was nothing worth bucking about."

"I didn't know." She looked at me with rather more

interest. "That was brave of you."

"I had to. If you want to write good copy, you must be
where the things are."

"What a prosaic motive! It seems to take all the romance

out of it. But, still, whatever your motive, I am glad that you
went down that mine." She gave me her hand; but with such
sweetness and dignity that I could only stoop and kiss it. "I
dare say I am merely a foolish woman with a young girl's
fancies. And yet it is so real with me, so entirely part of my
very self, that I cannot help acting upon it. If I marry, I do
want to marry a famous man!"
 "Why should you not?" I cried. "It is women like you who
brace men up. Give me a chance, and see if I will take it!
Besides, as you say, men ought to MAKE their own chances,
and not wait until they are given. Look at Clive—just a clerk,
and he conquered India! By George! I'll do something in the
world yet!"

She laughed at my sudden Irish effervescence. "Why

not?" she said. "You have everything a man could have,—
youth, health, strength, education, energy. I was sorry you
spoke. And now I am glad—so glad—if it wakens these
thoughts in you!"

"And if I do——"

Her dear hand rested like warm velvet upon my lips.

"Not another word, Sir! You should have been at the office
for evening duty half an hour ago; only I hadn't the heart to
remind you. Some day, perhaps, when you have won your
place in the world, we shall talk it over again."

And so it was that I found myself that foggy November

evening pursuing the Camberwell tram with my heart
glowing within me, and with the eager determination that
not another day should elapse before I should find some
deed which was worthy of my lady. But who—who in all this
wide world could ever have imagined the incredible shape
which that deed was to take, or the strange steps by which I
was led to the doing of it?

And, after all, this opening chapter will seem to the

reader to have nothing to do with my narrative; and yet
there would have been no narrative without it, for it is only
when a man goes out into the world with the thought that
there are heroisms all round him, and with the desire all
alive in his heart to follow any which may come within sight
of him, that he breaks away as I did from the life he knows,
and ventures forth into the wonderful mystic twilight land
where lie the great adventures and the great rewards. Behold
me, then, at the office of the Daily Gazette, on the staff of
which I was a most insignificant unit, with the settled
determination that very night, if possible, to find the quest
which should be worthy of my Gladys! Was it hardness, was
it selfishness, that she should ask me to risk my life for her
own glorification? Such thoughts may come to middle age;
but never to ardent three-and-twenty in the fever of his first
love.

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 CHAPTER II
"Try Your Luck with Professor Challenger"

I always liked McArdle, the crabbed, old, round-backed,

red-headed news editor, and I rather hoped that he liked me.
Of course, Beaumont was the real boss; but he lived in the
rarefied atmosphere of some Olympian height from which he
could distinguish nothing smaller than an international crisis
or a split in the Cabinet. Sometimes we saw him passing in
lonely majesty to his inner sanctum, with his eyes staring
vaguely and his mind hovering over the Balkans or the
Persian Gulf. He was above and beyond us. But McArdle was
his first lieutenant, and it was he that we knew. The old man
nodded as I entered the room, and he pushed his spectacles
far up on his bald forehead.

"Well, Mr. Malone, from all I hear, you seem to be doing

very well," said he in his kindly Scotch accent.

I thanked him.

"The colliery explosion was excellent. So was the

Southwark fire. You have the true descreeptive touch. What
did you want to see me about?"

"To ask a favor."

He looked alarmed, and his eyes shunned mine. "Tut,

tut! What is it?"
 "Do you think, Sir, that you could possibly send me on
some mission for the paper? I would do my best to put it
through and get you some good copy."

"What sort of meesion had you in your mind, Mr.

Malone?"

"Well, Sir, anything that had adventure and danger in it.

I really would do my very best. The more difficult it was, the
better it would suit me."

"You seem very anxious to lose your life."

"To justify my life, Sir."

"Dear me, Mr. Malone, this is very—very exalted. I'm

afraid the day for this sort of thing is rather past. The
expense of the 'special meesion' business hardly justifies the
result, and, of course, in any case it would only be an
experienced man with a name that would command public
confidence who would get such an order. The big blank
spaces in the map are all being filled in, and there's no room
for romance anywhere. Wait a bit, though!" he added, with a
sudden smile upon his face. "Talking of the blank spaces of
the map gives me an idea. What about exposing a fraud—a
modern Munchausen—and making him rideeculous? You
could show him up as the liar that he is! Eh, man, it would
be fine. How does it appeal to you?"

"Anything—anywhere—I care nothing."

McArdle was plunged in thought for some minutes.

"I wonder whether you could get on friendly—or at least

on talking terms with the fellow," he said, at last. "You seem
to have a sort of genius for establishing relations with
people—seempathy, I suppose, or animal magnetism, or
youthful vitality, or something. I am conscious of it myself."
 "You are very good, sir."

"So why should you not try your luck with Professor
Challenger, of Enmore Park?"

I dare say I looked a little startled.

"Challenger!" I cried. "Professor Challenger, the famous

zoologist! Wasn't he the man who broke the skull of Blundell,
of the Telegraph?"

The news editor smiled grimly.

"Do you mind? Didn't you say it was adventures you

were after?"

"It is all in the way of business, sir," I answered.

"Exactly. I don't suppose he can always be so violent as

that. I'm thinking that Blundell got him at the wrong
moment, maybe, or in the wrong fashion. You may have
better luck, or more tact in handling him. There's something
in your line there, I am sure, and the Gazette should work
it."

"I really know nothing about him," said I. "I only

remember his name in connection with the police-court
proceedings, for striking Blundell."

"I have a few notes for your guidance, Mr. Malone. I've
had my eye on the Professor for some little time." He took a
paper from a drawer. "Here is a summary of his record. I give
it you briefly:—

"'Challenger, George Edward. Born: Largs, N. B., 1863.

Educ.: Largs Academy; Edinburgh University. British
Museum Assistant, 1892. Assistant-Keeper of Comparative
Anthropology Department, 1893. Resigned after acrimonious
correspondence same year. Winner of Crayston Medal for
Zoological Research. Foreign Member of'—well, quite a lot of
things, about two inches of small type—'Societe Belge,
American Academy of Sciences, La Plata, etc., etc. Ex-
President Palaeontological Society. Section H, British
Association'—so on, so on!—'Publications: "Some
Observations Upon a Series of Kalmuck Skulls"; "Outlines of
Vertebrate Evolution"; and numerous papers, including "The
underlying fallacy of Weissmannism," which caused heated
discussion at the Zoological Congress of Vienna. Recreations:
Walking, Alpine climbing. Address: Enmore Park,
Kensington, W.'

"There, take it with you. I've nothing more for you to-
night."

I pocketed the slip of paper.

"One moment, sir," I said, as I realized that it was a pink

bald head, and not a red face, which was fronting me. "I am
not very clear yet why I am to interview this gentleman.
What has he done?"

The face flashed back again.

"Went to South America on a solitary expedeetion two

years ago. Came back last year. Had undoubtedly been to
South America, but refused to say exactly where. Began to
tell his adventures in a vague way, but somebody started to
pick holes, and he just shut up like an oyster. Something
wonderful happened—or the man's a champion liar, which is
the more probable supposeetion. Had some damaged
photographs, said to be fakes. Got so touchy that he assaults
anyone who asks questions, and heaves reporters down the
stairs. In my opinion he's just a homicidal megalomaniac
with a turn for science. That's your man, Mr. Malone. Now,
off you run, and see what you can make of him. You're big
enough to look after yourself. Anyway, you are all safe.
Employers' Liability Act, you know."

A grinning red face turned once more into a pink oval,

fringed with gingery fluff; the interview was at an end.

I walked across to the Savage Club, but instead of

turning into it I leaned upon the railings of Adelphi Terrace
and gazed thoughtfully for a long time at the brown, oily
river. I can always think most sanely and clearly in the open
air. I took out the list of Professor Challenger's exploits, and
I read it over under the electric lamp. Then I had what I can
only regard as an inspiration. As a Pressman, I felt sure from
what I had been told that I could never hope to get into
touch with this cantankerous Professor. But these
recriminations, twice mentioned in his skeleton biography,
could only mean that he was a fanatic in science. Was there
not an exposed margin there upon which he might be
accessible? I would try.

I entered the club. It was just after eleven, and the big
room was fairly full, though the rush had not yet set in. I
noticed a tall, thin, angular man seated in an arm-chair by
the fire. He turned as I drew my chair up to him. It was the
man of all others whom I should have chosen—Tarp Henry,
of the staff of Nature, a thin, dry, leathery creature, who was
full, to those who knew him, of kindly humanity. I plunged
instantly into my subject.

"What do you know of Professor Challenger?"

"Challenger?" He gathered his brows in scientific

disapproval. "Challenger was the man who came with some
cock-and-bull story from South America."

"What story?"
 "Oh, it was rank nonsense about some queer animals he
had discovered. I believe he has retracted since. Anyhow, he
has suppressed it all. He gave an interview to Reuter's, and
there was such a howl that he saw it wouldn't do. It was a
discreditable business. There were one or two folk who were
inclined to take him seriously, but he soon choked them off."

"How?"

"Well, by his insufferable rudeness and impossible

behavior. There was poor old Wadley, of the Zoological
Institute. Wadley sent a message: 'The President of the
Zoological Institute presents his compliments to Professor
Challenger, and would take it as a personal favor if he would
do them the honor to come to their next meeting.' The
answer was unprintable."

"You don't say?"

"Well, a bowdlerized version of it would run: 'Professor

Challenger presents his compliments to the President of the
Zoological Institute, and would take it as a personal favor if
he would go to the devil.'"

"Good Lord!"

"Yes, I expect that's what old Wadley said. I remember

his wail at the meeting, which began: 'In fifty years
experience of scientific intercourse——' It quite broke the old
man up."

"Anything more about Challenger?"

"Well, I'm a bacteriologist, you know. I live in a nine-

hundred-diameter microscope. I can hardly claim to take
serious notice of anything that I can see with my naked eye.
I'm a frontiersman from the extreme edge of the Knowable,
and I feel quite out of place when I leave my study and come
into touch with all you great, rough, hulking creatures. I'm
too detached to talk scandal, and yet at scientific
conversaziones I HAVE heard something of Challenger, for he
is one of those men whom nobody can ignore. He's as clever
as they make 'em—a full-charged battery of force and
vitality, but a quarrelsome, ill-conditioned faddist, and
unscrupulous at that. He had gone the length of faking some
photographs over the South American business."

"You say he is a faddist. What is his particular fad?"

"He has a thousand, but the latest is something about

Weissmann and Evolution. He had a fearful row about it in
Vienna, I believe."

"Can't you tell me the point?"

"Not at the moment, but a translation of the proceedings

exists. We have it filed at the office. Would you care to
come?"

"It's just what I want. I have to interview the fellow, and

I need some lead up to him. It's really awfully good of you to
give me a lift. I'll go with you now, if it is not too late."

Half an hour later I was seated in the newspaper office

with a huge tome in front of me, which had been opened at
the article "Weissmann versus Darwin," with the sub
heading, "Spirited Protest at Vienna. Lively Proceedings." My
scientific education having been somewhat neglected, I was
unable to follow the whole argument, but it was evident that
the English Professor had handled his subject in a very
aggressive fashion, and had thoroughly annoyed his
Continental colleagues. "Protests," "Uproar," and "General
appeal to the Chairman" were three of the first brackets
which caught my eye. Most of the matter might have been
written in Chinese for any definite meaning that it conveyed
to my brain.

"I wish you could translate it into English for me," I said,
pathetically, to my help-mate.

"Well, it is a translation."

"Then I'd better try my luck with the original."

"It is certainly rather deep for a layman."

"If I could only get a single good, meaty sentence which

seemed to convey some sort of definite human idea, it would
serve my turn. Ah, yes, this one will do. I seem in a vague
way almost to understand it. I'll copy it out. This shall be my
link with the terrible Professor."

"Nothing else I can do?"

"Well, yes; I propose to write to him. If I could frame the

letter here, and use your address it would give atmosphere."

"We'll have the fellow round here making a row and

breaking the furniture."

"No, no; you'll see the letter—nothing contentious, I

assure you."

"Well, that's my chair and desk. You'll find paper there.

I'd like to censor it before it goes."

It took some doing, but I flatter myself that it wasn't

such a bad job when it was finished. I read it aloud to the
critical bacteriologist with some pride in my handiwork.
 "DEAR PROFESSOR CHALLENGER," it said, "As a
humble student of Nature, I have always taken the most
profound interest in your speculations as to the differences
between Darwin and Weissmann. I have recently had
occasion to refresh my memory by re-reading——"

"You infernal liar!" murmured Tarp Henry.

—"by re-reading your masterly address at Vienna. That

lucid and admirable statement seems to be the last word in
the matter. There is one sentence in it, however—namely: 'I
protest strongly against the insufferable and entirely
dogmatic assertion that each separate id is a microcosm
possessed of an historical architecture elaborated slowly
through the series of generations.' Have you no desire, in
view of later research, to modify this statement? Do you not
think that it is over-accentuated? With your permission, I
would ask the favor of an interview, as I feel strongly upon
the subject, and have certain suggestions which I could only
elaborate in a personal conversation. With your consent, I
trust to have the honor of calling at eleven o'clock the day
after to-morrow (Wednesday) morning.

"I remain, Sir, with assurances of profound respect, yours

very truly,
EDWARD D. MALONE."

"How's that?" I asked, triumphantly.

"Well if your conscience can stand it——"

"It has never failed me yet."

 "But what do you mean to do?"

"To get there. Once I am in his room I may see some

opening. I may even go the length of open confession. If he is
a sportsman he will be tickled."

"Tickled, indeed! He's much more likely to do the

tickling. Chain mail, or an American football suit—that's
what you'll want. Well, good-bye. I'll have the answer for you
here on Wednesday morning—if he ever deigns to answer
you. He is a violent, dangerous, cantankerous character,
hated by everyone who comes across him, and the butt of
the students, so far as they dare take a liberty with him.
Perhaps it would be best for you if you never heard from the
fellow at all."

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 CHAPTER III
"He is a Perfectly Impossible Person"

My friend's fear or hope was not destined to be realized.

When I called on Wednesday there was a letter with the West
Kensington postmark upon it, and my name scrawled across
the envelope in a handwriting which looked like a barbed-
wire railing. The contents were as follows:—

"ENMORE PARK, W.

"SIR,—I have duly received your note, in which you

claim to endorse my views, although I am not aware that
they are dependent upon endorsement either from you or
anyone else. You have ventured to use the word 'speculation'
with regard to my statement upon the subject of Darwinism,
and I would call your attention to the fact that such a word
in such a connection is offensive to a degree. The context
convinces me, however, that you have sinned rather through
ignorance and tactlessness than through malice, so I am
content to pass the matter by. You quote an isolated
sentence from my lecture, and appear to have some difficulty
in understanding it. I should have thought that only a sub-
human intelligence could have failed to grasp the point, but
if it really needs amplification I shall consent to see you at
the hour named, though visits and visitors of every sort are
exceeding distasteful to me. As to your suggestion that I may
modify my opinion, I would have you know that it is not my
habit to do so after a deliberate expression of my mature
views. You will kindly show the envelope of this letter to my
man, Austin, when you call, as he has to take every
precaution to shield me from the intrusive rascals who call
themselves 'journalists.'

"Yours faithfully,
"GEORGE EDWARD CHALLENGER."

This was the letter that I read aloud to Tarp Henry, who
had come down early to hear the result of my venture. His
only remark was, "There's some new stuff, cuticura or
something, which is better than arnica." Some people have
such extraordinary notions of humor.

It was nearly half-past ten before I had received my

message, but a taxicab took me round in good time for my
appointment. It was an imposing porticoed house at which
we stopped, and the heavily-curtained windows gave every
indication of wealth upon the part of this formidable
Professor. The door was opened by an odd, swarthy, dried-
up person of uncertain age, with a dark pilot jacket and
brown leather gaiters. I found afterwards that he was the
chauffeur, who filled the gaps left by a succession of fugitive
butlers. He looked me up and down with a searching light
blue eye.

"Expected?" he asked.

"An appointment."

"Got your letter?"

 I produced the envelope.

"Right!" He seemed to be a person of few words.

Following him down the passage I was suddenly interrupted
by a small woman, who stepped out from what proved to be
the dining-room door. She was a bright, vivacious, dark-eyed
lady, more French than English in her type.

"One moment," she said. "You can wait, Austin. Step in

here, sir. May I ask if you have met my husband before?"

"No, madam, I have not had the honor."

"Then I apologize to you in advance. I must tell you that

he is a perfectly impossible person—absolutely impossible. If
you are forewarned you will be the more ready to make
allowances."

"It is most considerate of you, madam."

"Get quickly out of the room if he seems inclined to be

violent. Don't wait to argue with him. Several people have
been injured through doing that. Afterwards there is a public
scandal and it reflects upon me and all of us. I suppose it
wasn't about South America you wanted to see him?"

I could not lie to a lady.

"Dear me! That is his most dangerous subject. You won't

believe a word he says—I'm sure I don't wonder. But don't
tell him so, for it makes him very violent. Pretend to believe
him, and you may get through all right. Remember he
believes it himself. Of that you may be assured. A more
honest man never lived. Don't wait any longer or he may
suspect. If you find him dangerous—really dangerous—ring
the bell and hold him off until I come. Even at his worst I
can usually control him."
 With these encouraging words the lady handed me over
to the taciturn Austin, who had waited like a bronze statue
of discretion during our short interview, and I was conducted
to the end of the passage. There was a tap at a door, a bull's
bellow from within, and I was face to face with the
Professor.

He sat in a rotating chair behind a broad table, which

was covered with books, maps, and diagrams. As I entered,
his seat spun round to face me. His appearance made me
gasp. I was prepared for something strange, but not for so
overpowering a personality as this. It was his size which took
one's breath away—his size and his imposing presence. His
head was enormous, the largest I have ever seen upon a
human being. I am sure that his top-hat, had I ever ventured
to don it, would have slipped over me entirely and rested on
my shoulders. He had the face and beard which I associate
with an Assyrian bull; the former florid, the latter so black as
almost to have a suspicion of blue, spade-shaped and
rippling down over his chest. The hair was peculiar,
plastered down in front in a long, curving wisp over his
massive forehead. The eyes were blue-gray under great black
tufts, very clear, very critical, and very masterful. A huge
spread of shoulders and a chest like a barrel were the other
parts of him which appeared above the table, save for two
enormous hands covered with long black hair. This and a
bellowing, roaring, rumbling voice made up my first
impression of the notorious Professor Challenger.

"Well?" said he, with a most insolent stare. "What now?"

I must keep up my deception for at least a little time

longer, otherwise here was evidently an end of the interview.

"You were good enough to give me an appointment, sir,"

said I, humbly, producing his envelope.
 He took my letter from his desk and laid it out before
him.

"Oh, you are the young person who cannot understand

plain English, are you? My general conclusions you are good
enough to approve, as I understand?"

"Entirely, sir—entirely!" I was very emphatic.

"Dear me! That strengthens my position very much, does

it not? Your age and appearance make your support doubly
valuable. Well, at least you are better than that herd of swine
in Vienna, whose gregarious grunt is, however, not more
offensive than the isolated effort of the British hog." He
glared at me as the present representative of the beast.

"They seem to have behaved abominably," said I.

"I assure you that I can fight my own battles, and that I
have no possible need of your sympathy. Put me alone, sir,
and with my back to the wall. G. E. C. is happiest then.
Well, sir, let us do what we can to curtail this visit, which
can hardly be agreeable to you, and is inexpressibly irksome
to me. You had, as I have been led to believe, some
comments to make upon the proposition which I advanced in
my thesis."

There was a brutal directness about his methods which

made evasion difficult. I must still make play and wait for a
better opening. It had seemed simple enough at a distance.
Oh, my Irish wits, could they not help me now, when I
needed help so sorely? He transfixed me with two sharp,
steely eyes. "Come, come!" he rumbled.

"I am, of course, a mere student," said I, with a fatuous

smile, "hardly more, I might say, than an earnest inquirer. At
the same time, it seemed to me that you were a little severe
upon Weissmann in this matter. Has not the general evidence
since that date tended to—well, to strengthen his position?"

"What evidence?" He spoke with a menacing calm.

"Well, of course, I am aware that there is not any what

you might call DEFINITE evidence. I alluded merely to the
trend of modern thought and the general scientific point of
view, if I might so express it."

He leaned forward with great earnestness.

"I suppose you are aware," said he, checking off points
upon his fingers, "that the cranial index is a constant factor?"

"Naturally," said I.

"And that telegony is still sub judice?"

"Undoubtedly."

"And that the germ plasm is different from the

parthenogenetic egg?"

"Why, surely!" I cried, and gloried in my own audacity.

"But what does that prove?" he asked, in a gentle,

persuasive voice.

"Ah, what indeed?" I murmured. "What does it prove?"

"Shall I tell you?" he cooed.

"Pray do."

"It proves," he roared, with a sudden blast of fury, "that

you are the damnedest imposter in London—a vile, crawling
journalist, who has no more science than he has decency in
his composition!"
 He had sprung to his feet with a mad rage in his eyes.
Even at that moment of tension I found time for amazement
at the discovery that he was quite a short man, his head not
higher than my shoulder—a stunted Hercules whose
tremendous vitality had all run to depth, breadth, and brain.

"Gibberish!" he cried, leaning forward, with his fingers

on the table and his face projecting. "That's what I have been
talking to you, sir—scientific gibberish! Did you think you
could match cunning with me—you with your walnut of a
brain? You think you are omnipotent, you infernal scribblers,
don't you? That your praise can make a man and your blame
can break him? We must all bow to you, and try to get a
favorable word, must we? This man shall have a leg up, and
this man shall have a dressing down! Creeping vermin, I
know you! You've got out of your station. Time was when
your ears were clipped. You've lost your sense of proportion.
Swollen gas-bags! I'll keep you in your proper place. Yes, sir,
you haven't got over G. E. C. There's one man who is still
your master. He warned you off, but if you WILL come, by
the Lord you do it at your own risk. Forfeit, my good Mr.
Malone, I claim forfeit! You have played a rather dangerous
game, and it strikes me that you have lost it."

"Look here, sir," said I, backing to the door and opening

it; "you can be as abusive as you like. But there is a limit.
You shall not assault me."

"Shall I not?" He was slowly advancing in a peculiarly

menacing way, but he stopped now and put his big hands
into the side-pockets of a rather boyish short jacket which he
wore. "I have thrown several of you out of the house. You
will be the fourth or fifth. Three pound fifteen each—that is
how it averaged. Expensive, but very necessary. Now, sir,
why should you not follow your brethren? I rather think you
must." He resumed his unpleasant and stealthy advance,
pointing his toes as he walked, like a dancing master.
 I could have bolted for the hall door, but it would have
been too ignominious. Besides, a little glow of righteous
anger was springing up within me. I had been hopelessly in
the wrong before, but this man's menaces were putting me in
the right.

"I'll trouble you to keep your hands off, sir. I'll not stand
it."

"Dear me!" His black moustache lifted and a white fang

twinkled in a sneer. "You won't stand it, eh?"

"Don't be such a fool, Professor!" I cried. "What can you

hope for? I'm fifteen stone, as hard as nails, and play center
three-quarter every Saturday for the London Irish. I'm not
the man——"

It was at that moment that he rushed me. It was lucky

that I had opened the door, or we should have gone through
it. We did a Catharine-wheel together down the passage.
Somehow we gathered up a chair upon our way, and
bounded on with it towards the street. My mouth was full of
his beard, our arms were locked, our bodies intertwined, and
that infernal chair radiated its legs all round us. The
watchful Austin had thrown open the hall door. We went
with a back somersault down the front steps. I have seen the
two Macs attempt something of the kind at the halls, but it
appears to take some practise to do it without hurting
oneself. The chair went to matchwood at the bottom, and we
rolled apart into the gutter. He sprang to his feet, waving his
fists and wheezing like an asthmatic.

"Had enough?" he panted.

"You infernal bully!" I cried, as I gathered myself

together.
 Then and there we should have tried the thing out, for
he was effervescing with fight, but fortunately I was rescued
from an odious situation. A policeman was beside us, his
notebook in his hand.

"What's all this? You ought to be ashamed" said the

policeman. It was the most rational remark which I had
heard in Enmore Park. "Well," he insisted, turning to me,
"what is it, then?"

"This man attacked me," said I.

"Did you attack him?" asked the policeman.

The Professor breathed hard and said nothing.

"It's not the first time, either," said the policeman,

severely, shaking his head. "You were in trouble last month
for the same thing. You've blackened this young man's eye.
Do you give him in charge, sir?"

I relented.

"No," said I, "I do not."

"What's that?" said the policeman.

"I was to blame myself. I intruded upon him. He gave me

fair warning."

The policeman snapped up his notebook.

"Don't let us have any more such goings-on," said he.

"Now, then! Move on, there, move on!" This to a butcher's
boy, a maid, and one or two loafers who had collected. He
clumped heavily down the street, driving this little flock
before him. The Professor looked at me, and there was
something humorous at the back of his eyes.
 "Come in!" said he. "I've not done with you yet."

The speech had a sinister sound, but I followed him none

the less into the house. The man-servant, Austin, like a
wooden image, closed the door behind us.

Ebd
E-BooksDirectory.com
 CHAPTER IV
"It's Just the very Biggest Thing in the World"

Hardly was it shut when Mrs. Challenger darted out

from the dining-room. The small woman was in a furious
temper. She barred her husband's way like an enraged
chicken in front of a bulldog. It was evident that she had
seen my exit, but had not observed my return.

"You brute, George!" she screamed. "You've hurt that

nice young man."

He jerked backwards with his thumb.

"Here he is, safe and sound behind me."

She was confused, but not unduly so.

"I am so sorry, I didn't see you."

"I assure you, madam, that it is all right."

"He has marked your poor face! Oh, George, what a

brute you are! Nothing but scandals from one end of the
week to the other. Everyone hating and making fun of you.
You've finished my patience. This ends it."

"Dirty linen," he rumbled.

"It's not a secret," she cried. "Do you suppose that the
whole street—the whole of London, for that matter—— Get
away, Austin, we don't want you here. Do you suppose they
don't all talk about you? Where is your dignity? You, a man
who should have been Regius Professor at a great University
with a thousand students all revering you. Where is your
dignity, George?"

"How about yours, my dear?"

"You try me too much. A ruffian—a common brawling

ruffian—that's what you have become."

"Be good, Jessie."

"A roaring, raging bully!"

"That's done it! Stool of penance!" said he.

To my amazement he stooped, picked her up, and placed

her sitting upon a high pedestal of black marble in the angle
of the hall. It was at least seven feet high, and so thin that
she could hardly balance upon it. A more absurd object than
she presented cocked up there with her face convulsed with
anger, her feet dangling, and her body rigid for fear of an
upset, I could not imagine.

"Let me down!" she wailed.

"Say 'please.'"

"You brute, George! Let me down this instant!"

"Come into the study, Mr. Malone."

"Really, sir——!" said I, looking at the lady.

"Here's Mr. Malone pleading for you, Jessie. Say 'please,'

and down you come."

"Oh, you brute! Please! please!"

 "You must behave yourself, dear. Mr. Malone is a
Pressman. He will have it all in his rag to-morrow, and sell
an extra dozen among our neighbors. 'Strange story of high
life'—you felt fairly high on that pedestal, did you not? Then
a sub-title, 'Glimpse of a singular menage.' He's a foul feeder,
is Mr. Malone, a carrion eater, like all of his kind—porcus ex
grege diaboli—a swine from the devil's herd. That's it,
Malone—what?"

"You are really intolerable!" said I, hotly.

He bellowed with laughter.

"We shall have a coalition presently," he boomed, looking

from his wife to me and puffing out his enormous chest.
Then, suddenly altering his tone, "Excuse this frivolous
family badinage, Mr. Malone. I called you back for some
more serious purpose than to mix you up with our little
domestic pleasantries. Run away, little woman, and don't
fret." He placed a huge hand upon each of her shoulders. "All
that you say is perfectly true. I should be a better man if I
did what you advise, but I shouldn't be quite George Edward
Challenger. There are plenty of better men, my dear, but
only one G. E. C. So make the best of him." He suddenly
gave her a resounding kiss, which embarrassed me even
more than his violence had done. "Now, Mr. Malone," he
continued, with a great accession of dignity, "this way, if
YOU please."

We re-entered the room which we had left so

tumultuously ten minutes before. The Professor closed the
door carefully behind us, motioned me into an arm-chair,
and pushed a cigar-box under my nose.

"Real San Juan Colorado," he said. "Excitable people like

you are the better for narcotics. Heavens! don't bite it! Cut—
and cut with reverence! Now lean back, and listen attentively
to whatever I may care to say to you. If any remark should
occur to you, you can reserve it for some more opportune
time.

"First of all, as to your return to my house after your

most justifiable expulsion"—he protruded his beard, and
stared at me as one who challenges and invites
contradiction—"after, as I say, your well-merited expulsion.
The reason lay in your answer to that most officious
policeman, in which I seemed to discern some glimmering of
good feeling upon your part—more, at any rate, than I am
accustomed to associate with your profession. In admitting
that the fault of the incident lay with you, you gave some
evidence of a certain mental detachment and breadth of view
which attracted my favorable notice. The sub-species of the
human race to which you unfortunately belong has always
been below my mental horizon. Your words brought you
suddenly above it. You swam up into my serious notice. For
this reason I asked you to return with me, as I was minded
to make your further acquaintance. You will kindly deposit
your ash in the small Japanese tray on the bamboo table
which stands at your left elbow."

All this he boomed forth like a professor addressing his

class. He had swung round his revolving chair so as to face
me, and he sat all puffed out like an enormous bull-frog, his
head laid back and his eyes half-covered by supercilious lids.
Now he suddenly turned himself sideways, and all I could
see of him was tangled hair with a red, protruding ear. He
was scratching about among the litter of papers upon his
desk. He faced me presently with what looked like a very
tattered sketch-book in his hand.

"I am going to talk to you about South America," said he.

"No comments if you please. First of all, I wish you to
understand that nothing I tell you now is to be repeated in
any public way unless you have my express permission. That
permission will, in all human probability, never be given. Is
that clear?"

"It is very hard," said I. "Surely a judicious account——"

He replaced the notebook upon the table.

"That ends it," said he. "I wish you a very good morning."

"No, no!" I cried. "I submit to any conditions. So far as I

can see, I have no choice."

"None in the world," said he.

"Well, then, I promise."

"Word of honor?"

"Word of honor."

He looked at me with doubt in his insolent eyes.

"After all, what do I know about your honor?" said he.

"Upon my word, sir," I cried, angrily, "you take very

great liberties! I have never been so insulted in my life."

He seemed more interested than annoyed at my

outbreak.

"Round-headed," he muttered. "Brachycephalic, gray-

eyed, black-haired, with suggestion of the negroid. Celtic, I
presume?"

"I am an Irishman, sir."

"Irish Irish?"

"Yes, sir."
 "That, of course, explains it. Let me see; you have given
me your promise that my confidence will be respected? That
confidence, I may say, will be far from complete. But I am
prepared to give you a few indications which will be of
interest. In the first place, you are probably aware that two
years ago I made a journey to South America—one which will
be classical in the scientific history of the world? The object
of my journey was to verify some conclusions of Wallace and
of Bates, which could only be done by observing their
reported facts under the same conditions in which they had
themselves noted them. If my expedition had no other results
it would still have been noteworthy, but a curious incident
occurred to me while there which opened up an entirely
fresh line of inquiry.

"You are aware—or probably, in this half-educated age,

you are not aware—that the country round some parts of the
Amazon is still only partially explored, and that a great
number of tributaries, some of them entirely uncharted, run
into the main river. It was my business to visit this little-
known back-country and to examine its fauna, which
furnished me with the materials for several chapters for that
great and monumental work upon zoology which will be my
life's justification. I was returning, my work accomplished,
when I had occasion to spend a night at a small Indian
village at a point where a certain tributary—the name and
position of which I withhold—opens into the main river. The
natives were Cucama Indians, an amiable but degraded race,
with mental powers hardly superior to the average Londoner.
I had effected some cures among them upon my way up the
river, and had impressed them considerably with my
personality, so that I was not surprised to find myself eagerly
awaited upon my return. I gathered from their signs that
someone had urgent need of my medical services, and I
followed the chief to one of his huts. When I entered I found
that the sufferer to whose aid I had been summoned had that
instant expired. He was, to my surprise, no Indian, but a
white man; indeed, I may say a very white man, for he was
flaxen-haired and had some characteristics of an albino. He
was clad in rags, was very emaciated, and bore every trace of
prolonged hardship. So far as I could understand the account
of the natives, he was a complete stranger to them, and had
come upon their village through the woods alone and in the
last stage of exhaustion.

"The man's knapsack lay beside the couch, and I

examined the contents. His name was written upon a tab
within it—Maple White, Lake Avenue, Detroit, Michigan. It
is a name to which I am prepared always to lift my hat. It is
not too much to say that it will rank level with my own when
the final credit of this business comes to be apportioned.

"From the contents of the knapsack it was evident that

this man had been an artist and poet in search of effects.
There were scraps of verse. I do not profess to be a judge of
such things, but they appeared to me to be singularly
wanting in merit. There were also some rather commonplace
pictures of river scenery, a paint-box, a box of colored
chalks, some brushes, that curved bone which lies upon my
inkstand, a volume of Baxter's 'Moths and Butterflies,' a
cheap revolver, and a few cartridges. Of personal equipment
he either had none or he had lost it in his journey. Such were
the total effects of this strange American Bohemian.

"I was turning away from him when I observed that

something projected from the front of his ragged jacket. It
was this sketch-book, which was as dilapidated then as you
see it now. Indeed, I can assure you that a first folio of
Shakespeare could not be treated with greater reverence than
this relic has been since it came into my possession. I hand it
to you now, and I ask you to take it page by page and to
examine the contents."
 He helped himself to a cigar and leaned back with a
fiercely critical pair of eyes, taking note of the effect which
this document would produce.

I had opened the volume with some expectation of a

revelation, though of what nature I could not imagine. The
first page was disappointing, however, as it contained
nothing but the picture of a very fat man in a pea-jacket,
with the legend, "Jimmy Colver on the Mail-boat," written
beneath it. There followed several pages which were filled
with small sketches of Indians and their ways. Then came a
picture of a cheerful and corpulent ecclesiastic in a shovel
hat, sitting opposite a very thin European, and the
inscription: "Lunch with Fra Cristofero at Rosario." Studies of
women and babies accounted for several more pages, and
then there was an unbroken series of animal drawings with
such explanations as "Manatee upon Sandbank," "Turtles and
Their Eggs," "Black Ajouti under a Miriti Palm"—the matter
disclosing some sort of pig-like animal; and finally came a
double page of studies of long-snouted and very unpleasant
saurians. I could make nothing of it, and said so to the
Professor.

"Surely these are only crocodiles?"

"Alligators! Alligators! There is hardly such a thing as a

true crocodile in South America. The distinction between
them——"

"I meant that I could see nothing unusual—nothing to

justify what you have said."

He smiled serenely.

"Try the next page," said he.

I was still unable to sympathize. It was a full-page sketch

of a landscape roughly tinted in color—the kind of painting
which an open-air artist takes as a guide to a future more
elaborate effort. There was a pale-green foreground of
feathery vegetation, which sloped upwards and ended in a
line of cliffs dark red in color, and curiously ribbed like some
basaltic formations which I have seen. They extended in an
unbroken wall right across the background. At one point was
an isolated pyramidal rock, crowned by a great tree, which
appeared to be separated by a cleft from the main crag.
Behind it all, a blue tropical sky. A thin green line of
vegetation fringed the summit of the ruddy cliff.

"Well?" he asked.

"It is no doubt a curious formation," said I "but I am not

geologist enough to say that it is wonderful."

"Wonderful!" he repeated. "It is unique. It is incredible.

No one on earth has ever dreamed of such a possibility. Now
the next."

I turned it over, and gave an exclamation of surprise.

There was a full-page picture of the most extraordinary
creature that I had ever seen. It was the wild dream of an
opium smoker, a vision of delirium. The head was like that
of a fowl, the body that of a bloated lizard, the trailing tail
was furnished with upward-turned spikes, and the curved
back was edged with a high serrated fringe, which looked
like a dozen cocks' wattles placed behind each other. In front
of this creature was an absurd mannikin, or dwarf, in human
form, who stood staring at it.

"Well, what do you think of that?" cried the Professor,

rubbing his hands with an air of triumph.

"It is monstrous—grotesque."

"But what made him draw such an animal?"

 "Trade gin, I should think."

"Oh, that's the best explanation you can give, is it?"

"Well, sir, what is yours?"

"The obvious one that the creature exists. That is actually

sketched from the life."

I should have laughed only that I had a vision of our

doing another Catharine-wheel down the passage.

"No doubt," said I, "no doubt," as one humors an

imbecile. "I confess, however," I added, "that this tiny human
figure puzzles me. If it were an Indian we could set it down
as evidence of some pigmy race in America, but it appears to
be a European in a sun-hat."

The Professor snorted like an angry buffalo. "You really

touch the limit," said he. "You enlarge my view of the
possible. Cerebral paresis! Mental inertia! Wonderful!"

He was too absurd to make me angry. Indeed, it was a

waste of energy, for if you were going to be angry with this
man you would be angry all the time. I contented myself
with smiling wearily. "It struck me that the man was small,"
said I.

"Look here!" he cried, leaning forward and dabbing a

great hairy sausage of a finger on to the picture. "You see
that plant behind the animal; I suppose you thought it was a
dandelion or a Brussels sprout—what? Well, it is a vegetable
ivory palm, and they run to about fifty or sixty feet. Don't
you see that the man is put in for a purpose? He couldn't
really have stood in front of that brute and lived to draw it.
He sketched himself in to give a scale of heights. He was, we
will say, over five feet high. The tree is ten times bigger,
which is what one would expect."
 "Good heavens!" I cried. "Then you think the beast was—
— Why, Charing Cross station would hardly make a kennel
for such a brute!"

"Apart from exaggeration, he is certainly a well-grown

specimen," said the Professor, complacently.

"But," I cried, "surely the whole experience of the human

race is not to be set aside on account of a single sketch"—I
had turned over the leaves and ascertained that there was
nothing more in the book—"a single sketch by a wandering
American artist who may have done it under hashish, or in
the delirium of fever, or simply in order to gratify a freakish
imagination. You can't, as a man of science, defend such a
position as that."

For answer the Professor took a book down from a shelf.

"This is an excellent monograph by my gifted friend, Ray

Lankester!" said he. "There is an illustration here which
would interest you. Ah, yes, here it is! The inscription
beneath it runs: 'Probable appearance in life of the Jurassic
Dinosaur Stegosaurus. The hind leg alone is twice as tall as a
full-grown man.' Well, what do you make of that?"

He handed me the open book. I started as I looked at the

picture. In this reconstructed animal of a dead world there
was certainly a very great resemblance to the sketch of the
unknown artist.

"That is certainly remarkable," said I.

"But you won't admit that it is final?"

"Surely it might be a coincidence, or this American may

have seen a picture of the kind and carried it in his memory.
It would be likely to recur to a man in a delirium."
 "Very good," said the Professor, indulgently; "we leave it
at that. I will now ask you to look at this bone." He handed
over the one which he had already described as part of the
dead man's possessions. It was about six inches long, and
thicker than my thumb, with some indications of dried
cartilage at one end of it.

"To what known creature does that bone belong?" asked

the Professor.

I examined it with care and tried to recall some half-

forgotten knowledge.

"It might be a very thick human collar-bone," I said.

My companion waved his hand in contemptuous

deprecation.

"The human collar-bone is curved. This is straight. There

is a groove upon its surface showing that a great tendon
played across it, which could not be the case with a clavicle."

"Then I must confess that I don't know what it is."

"You need not be ashamed to expose your ignorance, for

I don't suppose the whole South Kensington staff could give
a name to it." He took a little bone the size of a bean out of a
pill-box. "So far as I am a judge this human bone is the
analogue of the one which you hold in your hand. That will
give you some idea of the size of the creature. You will
observe from the cartilage that this is no fossil specimen, but
recent. What do you say to that?"

"Surely in an elephant——"

He winced as if in pain.
 "Don't! Don't talk of elephants in South America. Even in
these days of Board schools——"

"Well," I interrupted, "any large South American animal—

a tapir, for example."

"You may take it, young man, that I am versed in the

elements of my business. This is not a conceivable bone
either of a tapir or of any other creature known to zoology. It
belongs to a very large, a very strong, and, by all analogy, a
very fierce animal which exists upon the face of the earth,
but has not yet come under the notice of science. You are
still unconvinced?"

"I am at least deeply interested."

"Then your case is not hopeless. I feel that there is

reason lurking in you somewhere, so we will patiently grope
round for it. We will now leave the dead American and
proceed with my narrative. You can imagine that I could
hardly come away from the Amazon without probing deeper
into the matter. There were indications as to the direction
from which the dead traveler had come. Indian legends
would alone have been my guide, for I found that rumors of
a strange land were common among all the riverine tribes.
You have heard, no doubt, of Curupuri?"

"Never."

"Curupuri is the spirit of the woods, something terrible,

something malevolent, something to be avoided. None can
describe its shape or nature, but it is a word of terror along
the Amazon. Now all tribes agree as to the direction in which
Curupuri lives. It was the same direction from which the
American had come. Something terrible lay that way. It was
my business to find out what it was."
 "What did you do?" My flippancy was all gone. This
massive man compelled one's attention and respect.

"I overcame the extreme reluctance of the natives—a

reluctance which extends even to talk upon the subject—and
by judicious persuasion and gifts, aided, I will admit, by
some threats of coercion, I got two of them to act as guides.
After many adventures which I need not describe, and after
traveling a distance which I will not mention, in a direction
which I withhold, we came at last to a tract of country which
has never been described, nor, indeed, visited save by my
unfortunate predecessor. Would you kindly look at this?"

He handed me a photograph—half-plate size.

"The unsatisfactory appearance of it is due to the fact,"

said he, "that on descending the river the boat was upset and
the case which contained the undeveloped films was broken,
with disastrous results. Nearly all of them were totally
ruined—an irreparable loss. This is one of the few which
partially escaped. This explanation of deficiencies or
abnormalities you will kindly accept. There was talk of
faking. I am not in a mood to argue such a point."

The photograph was certainly very off-colored. An

unkind critic might easily have misinterpreted that dim
surface. It was a dull gray landscape, and as I gradually
deciphered the details of it I realized that it represented a
long and enormously high line of cliffs exactly like an
immense cataract seen in the distance, with a sloping, tree-
clad plain in the foreground.

"I believe it is the same place as the painted picture,"

said I.

"It is the same place," the Professor answered. "I found

traces of the fellow's camp. Now look at this."
 It was a nearer view of the same scene, though the
photograph was extremely defective. I could distinctly see
the isolated, tree-crowned pinnacle of rock which was
detached from the crag.

"I have no doubt of it at all," said I.

"Well, that is something gained," said he. "We progress,

do we not? Now, will you please look at the top of that rocky
pinnacle? Do you observe something there?"

"An enormous tree."

"But on the tree?"

"A large bird," said I.

He handed me a lens.

"Yes," I said, peering through it, "a large bird stands on

the tree. It appears to have a considerable beak. I should say
it was a pelican."

"I cannot congratulate you upon your eyesight," said the

Professor. "It is not a pelican, nor, indeed, is it a bird. It may
interest you to know that I succeeded in shooting that
particular specimen. It was the only absolute proof of my
experiences which I was able to bring away with me."

"You have it, then?" Here at last was tangible

corroboration.

"I had it. It was unfortunately lost with so much else in

the same boat accident which ruined my photographs. I
clutched at it as it disappeared in the swirl of the rapids, and
part of its wing was left in my hand. I was insensible when
washed ashore, but the miserable remnant of my superb
specimen was still intact; I now lay it before you."
 From a drawer he produced what seemed to me to be the
upper portion of the wing of a large bat. It was at least two
feet in length, a curved bone, with a membranous veil
beneath it.

"A monstrous bat!" I suggested.

"Nothing of the sort," said the Professor, severely.

"Living, as I do, in an educated and scientific atmosphere, I
could not have conceived that the first principles of zoology
were so little known. Is it possible that you do not know the
elementary fact in comparative anatomy, that the wing of a
bird is really the forearm, while the wing of a bat consists of
three elongated fingers with membranes between? Now, in
this case, the bone is certainly not the forearm, and you can
see for yourself that this is a single membrane hanging upon
a single bone, and therefore that it cannot belong to a bat.
But if it is neither bird nor bat, what is it?"

My small stock of knowledge was exhausted.

"I really do not know," said I.

He opened the standard work to which he had already

referred me.

"Here," said he, pointing to the picture of an

extraordinary flying monster, "is an excellent reproduction of
the dimorphodon, or pterodactyl, a flying reptile of the
Jurassic period. On the next page is a diagram of the
mechanism of its wing. Kindly compare it with the specimen
in your hand."

A wave of amazement passed over me as I looked. I was

convinced. There could be no getting away from it. The
cumulative proof was overwhelming. The sketch, the
photographs, the narrative, and now the actual specimen—
the evidence was complete. I said so—I said so warmly, for I
felt that the Professor was an ill-used man. He leaned back
in his chair with drooping eyelids and a tolerant smile,
basking in this sudden gleam of sunshine.

"It's just the very biggest thing that I ever heard of!" said
I, though it was my journalistic rather than my scientific
enthusiasm that was roused. "It is colossal. You are a
Columbus of science who has discovered a lost world. I'm
awfully sorry if I seemed to doubt you. It was all so
unthinkable. But I understand evidence when I see it, and
this should be good enough for anyone."

The Professor purred with satisfaction.

"And then, sir, what did you do next?"

"It was the wet season, Mr. Malone, and my stores were
exhausted. I explored some portion of this huge cliff, but I
was unable to find any way to scale it. The pyramidal rock
upon which I saw and shot the pterodactyl was more
accessible. Being something of a cragsman, I did manage to
get half way to the top of that. From that height I had a
better idea of the plateau upon the top of the crags. It
appeared to be very large; neither to east nor to west could I
see any end to the vista of green-capped cliffs. Below, it is a
swampy, jungly region, full of snakes, insects, and fever. It is
a natural protection to this singular country."

"Did you see any other trace of life?"

"No, sir, I did not; but during the week that we lay
encamped at the base of the cliff we heard some very strange
noises from above."

"But the creature that the American drew? How do you

account for that?"
 "We can only suppose that he must have made his way to
the summit and seen it there. We know, therefore, that there
is a way up. We know equally that it must be a very difficult
one, otherwise the creatures would have come down and
overrun the surrounding country. Surely that is clear?"

"But how did they come to be there?"

"I do not think that the problem is a very obscure one,"

said the Professor; "there can only be one explanation. South
America is, as you may have heard, a granite continent. At
this single point in the interior there has been, in some far
distant age, a great, sudden volcanic upheaval. These cliffs, I
may remark, are basaltic, and therefore plutonic. An area, as
large perhaps as Sussex, has been lifted up en bloc with all
its living contents, and cut off by perpendicular precipices of
a hardness which defies erosion from all the rest of the
continent. What is the result? Why, the ordinary laws of
Nature are suspended. The various checks which influence
the struggle for existence in the world at large are all
neutralized or altered. Creatures survive which would
otherwise disappear. You will observe that both the
pterodactyl and the stegosaurus are Jurassic, and therefore of
a great age in the order of life. They have been artificially
conserved by those strange accidental conditions."

"But surely your evidence is conclusive. You have only to

lay it before the proper authorities."

"So in my simplicity, I had imagined," said the Professor,

bitterly. "I can only tell you that it was not so, that I was met
at every turn by incredulity, born partly of stupidity and
partly of jealousy. It is not my nature, sir, to cringe to any
man, or to seek to prove a fact if my word has been doubted.
After the first I have not condescended to show such
corroborative proofs as I possess. The subject became hateful
to me—I would not speak of it. When men like yourself, who
represent the foolish curiosity of the public, came to disturb
my privacy I was unable to meet them with dignified reserve.
By nature I am, I admit, somewhat fiery, and under
provocation I am inclined to be violent. I fear you may have
remarked it."

I nursed my eye and was silent.

"My wife has frequently remonstrated with me upon the

subject, and yet I fancy that any man of honor would feel the
same. To-night, however, I propose to give an extreme
example of the control of the will over the emotions. I invite
you to be present at the exhibition." He handed me a card
from his desk. "You will perceive that Mr. Percival Waldron,
a naturalist of some popular repute, is announced to lecture
at eight-thirty at the Zoological Institute's Hall upon 'The
Record of the Ages.' I have been specially invited to be
present upon the platform, and to move a vote of thanks to
the lecturer. While doing so, I shall make it my business,
with infinite tact and delicacy, to throw out a few remarks
which may arouse the interest of the audience and cause
some of them to desire to go more deeply into the matter.
Nothing contentious, you understand, but only an indication
that there are greater deeps beyond. I shall hold myself
strongly in leash, and see whether by this self-restraint I
attain a more favorable result."

"And I may come?" I asked eagerly.

"Why, surely," he answered, cordially. He had an

enormously massive genial manner, which was almost as
overpowering as his violence. His smile of benevolence was a
wonderful thing, when his cheeks would suddenly bunch
into two red apples, between his half-closed eyes and his
great black beard. "By all means, come. It will be a comfort
to me to know that I have one ally in the hall, however
inefficient and ignorant of the subject he may be. I fancy
there will be a large audience, for Waldron, though an
absolute charlatan, has a considerable popular following.
Now, Mr. Malone, I have given you rather more of my time
than I had intended. The individual must not monopolize
what is meant for the world. I shall be pleased to see you at
the lecture to-night. In the meantime, you will understand
that no public use is to be made of any of the material that I
have given you."

"But Mr. McArdle—my news editor, you know—will

want to know what I have done."

"Tell him what you like. You can say, among other
things, that if he sends anyone else to intrude upon me I
shall call upon him with a riding-whip. But I leave it to you
that nothing of all this appears in print. Very good. Then the
Zoological Institute's Hall at eight-thirty to-night." I had a
last impression of red cheeks, blue rippling beard, and
intolerant eyes, as he waved me out of the room.

Ebd
E-BooksDirectory.com
 CHAPTER V
"Question!"
What with the physical shocks incidental to my first
interview with Professor Challenger and the mental ones
which accompanied the second, I was a somewhat
demoralized journalist by the time I found myself in Enmore
Park once more. In my aching head the one thought was
throbbing that there really was truth in this man's story, that
it was of tremendous consequence, and that it would work
up into inconceivable copy for the Gazette when I could
obtain permission to use it. A taxicab was waiting at the end
of the road, so I sprang into it and drove down to the office.
McArdle was at his post as usual.

"Well," he cried, expectantly, "what may it run to? I'm

thinking, young man, you have been in the wars. Don't tell
me that he assaulted you."

"We had a little difference at first."

"What a man it is! What did you do?"

"Well, he became more reasonable and we had a chat.

But I got nothing out of him—nothing for publication."

"I'm not so sure about that. You got a black eye out of
him, and that's for publication. We can't have this reign of
terror, Mr. Malone. We must bring the man to his bearings.
I'll have a leaderette on him to-morrow that will raise a
blister. Just give me the material and I will engage to brand
the fellow for ever. Professor Munchausen—how's that for an
inset headline? Sir John Mandeville redivivus—Cagliostro—
all the imposters and bullies in history. I'll show him up for
the fraud he is."

"I wouldn't do that, sir."

"Why not?"

"Because he is not a fraud at all."

"What!" roared McArdle. "You don't mean to say you

really believe this stuff of his about mammoths and
mastodons and great sea sairpents?"

"Well, I don't know about that. I don't think he makes

any claims of that kind. But I do believe he has got
something new."

"Then for Heaven's sake, man, write it up!"

"I'm longing to, but all I know he gave me in confidence

and on condition that I didn't." I condensed into a few
sentences the Professor's narrative. "That's how it stands."

McArdle looked deeply incredulous.

"Well, Mr. Malone," he said at last, "about this scientific

meeting to-night; there can be no privacy about that,
anyhow. I don't suppose any paper will want to report it, for
Waldron has been reported already a dozen times, and no
one is aware that Challenger will speak. We may get a scoop,
if we are lucky. You'll be there in any case, so you'll just give
us a pretty full report. I'll keep space up to midnight."

My day was a busy one, and I had an early dinner at the

Savage Club with Tarp Henry, to whom I gave some account
of my adventures. He listened with a sceptical smile on his
gaunt face, and roared with laughter on hearing that the
Professor had convinced me.
 "My dear chap, things don't happen like that in real life.
People don't stumble upon enormous discoveries and then
lose their evidence. Leave that to the novelists. The fellow is
as full of tricks as the monkey-house at the Zoo. It's all
bosh."

"But the American poet?"

"He never existed."

"I saw his sketch-book."

"Challenger's sketch-book."

"You think he drew that animal?"

"Of course he did. Who else?"

"Well, then, the photographs?"

"There was nothing in the photographs. By your own

admission you only saw a bird."

"A pterodactyl."

"That's what HE says. He put the pterodactyl into your

head."

"Well, then, the bones?"

"First one out of an Irish stew. Second one vamped up

for the occasion. If you are clever and know your business
you can fake a bone as easily as you can a photograph."

I began to feel uneasy. Perhaps, after all, I had been

premature in my acquiescence. Then I had a sudden happy
thought.

"Will you come to the meeting?" I asked.

 Tarp Henry looked thoughtful.

"He is not a popular person, the genial Challenger," said

he. "A lot of people have accounts to settle with him. I
should say he is about the best-hated man in London. If the
medical students turn out there will be no end of a rag. I
don't want to get into a bear-garden."

"You might at least do him the justice to hear him state

his own case."

"Well, perhaps it's only fair. All right. I'm your man for
the evening."

When we arrived at the hall we found a much greater

concourse than I had expected. A line of electric broughams
discharged their little cargoes of white-bearded professors,
while the dark stream of humbler pedestrians, who crowded
through the arched door-way, showed that the audience
would be popular as well as scientific. Indeed, it became
evident to us as soon as we had taken our seats that a
youthful and even boyish spirit was abroad in the gallery and
the back portions of the hall. Looking behind me, I could see
rows of faces of the familiar medical student type.
Apparently the great hospitals had each sent down their
contingent. The behavior of the audience at present was
good-humored, but mischievous. Scraps of popular songs
were chorused with an enthusiasm which was a strange
prelude to a scientific lecture, and there was already a
tendency to personal chaff which promised a jovial evening
to others, however embarrassing it might be to the recipients
of these dubious honors.

Thus, when old Doctor Meldrum, with his well-known

curly-brimmed opera-hat, appeared upon the platform, there
was such a universal query of "Where DID you get that tile?"
that he hurriedly removed it, and concealed it furtively under
his chair. When gouty Professor Wadley limped down to his
seat there were general affectionate inquiries from all parts
of the hall as to the exact state of his poor toe, which caused
him obvious embarrassment. The greatest demonstration of
all, however, was at the entrance of my new acquaintance,
Professor Challenger, when he passed down to take his place
at the extreme end of the front row of the platform. Such a
yell of welcome broke forth when his black beard first
protruded round the corner that I began to suspect Tarp
Henry was right in his surmise, and that this assemblage was
there not merely for the sake of the lecture, but because it
had got rumored abroad that the famous Professor would
take part in the proceedings.

There was some sympathetic laughter on his entrance

among the front benches of well-dressed spectators, as
though the demonstration of the students in this instance
was not unwelcome to them. That greeting was, indeed, a
frightful outburst of sound, the uproar of the carnivora cage
when the step of the bucket-bearing keeper is heard in the
distance. There was an offensive tone in it, perhaps, and yet
in the main it struck me as mere riotous outcry, the noisy
reception of one who amused and interested them, rather
than of one they disliked or despised. Challenger smiled with
weary and tolerant contempt, as a kindly man would meet
the yapping of a litter of puppies. He sat slowly down, blew
out his chest, passed his hand caressingly down his beard,
and looked with drooping eyelids and supercilious eyes at
the crowded hall before him. The uproar of his advent had
not yet died away when Professor Ronald Murray, the
chairman, and Mr. Waldron, the lecturer, threaded their way
to the front, and the proceedings began.

Professor Murray will, I am sure, excuse me if I say that

he has the common fault of most Englishmen of being
inaudible. Why on earth people who have something to say
which is worth hearing should not take the slight trouble to
learn how to make it heard is one of the strange mysteries of
modern life. Their methods are as reasonable as to try to
pour some precious stuff from the spring to the reservoir
through a non-conducting pipe, which could by the least
effort be opened. Professor Murray made several profound
remarks to his white tie and to the water-carafe upon the
table, with a humorous, twinkling aside to the silver
candlestick upon his right. Then he sat down, and Mr.
Waldron, the famous popular lecturer, rose amid a general
murmur of applause. He was a stern, gaunt man, with a
harsh voice, and an aggressive manner, but he had the merit
of knowing how to assimilate the ideas of other men, and to
pass them on in a way which was intelligible and even
interesting to the lay public, with a happy knack of being
funny about the most unlikely objects, so that the precession
of the Equinox or the formation of a vertebrate became a
highly humorous process as treated by him.

It was a bird's-eye view of creation, as interpreted by

science, which, in language always clear and sometimes
picturesque, he unfolded before us. He told us of the globe, a
huge mass of flaming gas, flaring through the heavens. Then
he pictured the solidification, the cooling, the wrinkling
which formed the mountains, the steam which turned to
water, the slow preparation of the stage upon which was to
be played the inexplicable drama of life. On the origin of life
itself he was discreetly vague. That the germs of it could
hardly have survived the original roasting was, he declared,
fairly certain. Therefore it had come later. Had it built itself
out of the cooling, inorganic elements of the globe? Very
likely. Had the germs of it arrived from outside upon a
meteor? It was hardly conceivable. On the whole, the wisest
man was the least dogmatic upon the point. We could not—
or at least we had not succeeded up to date in making
organic life in our laboratories out of inorganic materials.
The gulf between the dead and the living was something
which our chemistry could not as yet bridge. But there was a
higher and subtler chemistry of Nature, which, working with
great forces over long epochs, might well produce results
which were impossible for us. There the matter must be left.

This brought the lecturer to the great ladder of animal

life, beginning low down in molluscs and feeble sea
creatures, then up rung by rung through reptiles and fishes,
till at last we came to a kangaroo-rat, a creature which
brought forth its young alive, the direct ancestor of all
mammals, and presumably, therefore, of everyone in the
audience. ("No, no," from a sceptical student in the back
row.) If the young gentleman in the red tie who cried "No,
no," and who presumably claimed to have been hatched out
of an egg, would wait upon him after the lecture, he would
be glad to see such a curiosity. (Laughter.) It was strange to
think that the climax of all the age-long process of Nature
had been the creation of that gentleman in the red tie. But
had the process stopped? Was this gentleman to be taken as
the final type—the be-all and end-all of development? He
hoped that he would not hurt the feelings of the gentleman
in the red tie if he maintained that, whatever virtues that
gentleman might possess in private life, still the vast
processes of the universe were not fully justified if they were
to end entirely in his production. Evolution was not a spent
force, but one still working, and even greater achievements
were in store.

Having thus, amid a general titter, played very prettily

with his interrupter, the lecturer went back to his picture of
the past, the drying of the seas, the emergence of the sand-
bank, the sluggish, viscous life which lay upon their margins,
the overcrowded lagoons, the tendency of the sea creatures
to take refuge upon the mud-flats, the abundance of food
awaiting them, their consequent enormous growth. "Hence,
ladies and gentlemen," he added, "that frightful brood of
saurians which still affright our eyes when seen in the
Wealden or in the Solenhofen slates, but which were
fortunately extinct long before the first appearance of
mankind upon this planet."

"Question!" boomed a voice from the platform.

Mr. Waldron was a strict disciplinarian with a gift of

acid humor, as exemplified upon the gentleman with the red
tie, which made it perilous to interrupt him. But this
interjection appeared to him so absurd that he was at a loss
how to deal with it. So looks the Shakespearean who is
confronted by a rancid Baconian, or the astronomer who is
assailed by a flat-earth fanatic. He paused for a moment, and
then, raising his voice, repeated slowly the words: "Which
were extinct before the coming of man."

"Question!" boomed the voice once more.

Waldron looked with amazement along the line of

professors upon the platform until his eyes fell upon the
figure of Challenger, who leaned back in his chair with
closed eyes and an amused expression, as if he were smiling
in his sleep.

"I see!" said Waldron, with a shrug. "It is my friend

Professor Challenger," and amid laughter he renewed his
lecture as if this was a final explanation and no more need be
said.

But the incident was far from being closed. Whatever

path the lecturer took amid the wilds of the past seemed
invariably to lead him to some assertion as to extinct or
prehistoric life which instantly brought the same bulls'
bellow from the Professor. The audience began to anticipate
it and to roar with delight when it came. The packed benches
of students joined in, and every time Challenger's beard
opened, before any sound could come forth, there was a yell
of "Question!" from a hundred voices, and an answering
counter cry of "Order!" and "Shame!" from as many more.
Waldron, though a hardened lecturer and a strong man,
became rattled. He hesitated, stammered, repeated himself,
got snarled in a long sentence, and finally turned furiously
upon the cause of his troubles.

"This is really intolerable!" he cried, glaring across the

platform. "I must ask you, Professor Challenger, to cease
these ignorant and unmannerly interruptions."

There was a hush over the hall, the students rigid with
delight at seeing the high gods on Olympus quarrelling
among themselves. Challenger levered his bulky figure slowly
out of his chair.

"I must in turn ask you, Mr. Waldron," he said, "to cease
to make assertions which are not in strict accordance with
scientific fact."

The words unloosed a tempest. "Shame! Shame!" "Give

him a hearing!" "Put him out!" "Shove him off the platform!"
"Fair play!" emerged from a general roar of amusement or
execration. The chairman was on his feet flapping both his
hands and bleating excitedly. "Professor Challenger—
personal—views—later," were the solid peaks above his
clouds of inaudible mutter. The interrupter bowed, smiled,
stroked his beard, and relapsed into his chair. Waldron, very
flushed and warlike, continued his observations. Now and
then, as he made an assertion, he shot a venomous glance at
his opponent, who seemed to be slumbering deeply, with the
same broad, happy smile upon his face.

At last the lecture came to an end—I am inclined to

think that it was a premature one, as the peroration was
hurried and disconnected. The thread of the argument had
been rudely broken, and the audience was restless and
expectant. Waldron sat down, and, after a chirrup from the
chairman, Professor Challenger rose and advanced to the
edge of the platform. In the interests of my paper I took
down his speech verbatim.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, amid a sustained

interruption from the back. "I beg pardon—Ladies,
Gentlemen, and Children—I must apologize, I had
inadvertently omitted a considerable section of this audience"
(tumult, during which the Professor stood with one hand
raised and his enormous head nodding sympathetically, as if
he were bestowing a pontifical blessing upon the crowd), "I
have been selected to move a vote of thanks to Mr. Waldron
for the very picturesque and imaginative address to which
we have just listened. There are points in it with which I
disagree, and it has been my duty to indicate them as they
arose, but, none the less, Mr. Waldron has accomplished his
object well, that object being to give a simple and interesting
account of what he conceives to have been the history of our
planet. Popular lectures are the easiest to listen to, but Mr.
Waldron" (here he beamed and blinked at the lecturer) "will
excuse me when I say that they are necessarily both
superficial and misleading, since they have to be graded to
the comprehension of an ignorant audience." (Ironical
cheering.) "Popular lecturers are in their nature parasitic."
(Angry gesture of protest from Mr. Waldron.) "They exploit
for fame or cash the work which has been done by their
indigent and unknown brethren. One smallest new fact
obtained in the laboratory, one brick built into the temple of
science, far outweighs any second-hand exposition which
passes an idle hour, but can leave no useful result behind it.
I put forward this obvious reflection, not out of any desire to
disparage Mr. Waldron in particular, but that you may not
lose your sense of proportion and mistake the acolyte for the
high priest." (At this point Mr. Waldron whispered to the
chairman, who half rose and said something severely to his
water-carafe.) "But enough of this!" (Loud and prolonged
cheers.) "Let me pass to some subject of wider interest. What
is the particular point upon which I, as an original
investigator, have challenged our lecturer's accuracy? It is
upon the permanence of certain types of animal life upon the
earth. I do not speak upon this subject as an amateur, nor, I
may add, as a popular lecturer, but I speak as one whose
scientific conscience compels him to adhere closely to facts,
when I say that Mr. Waldron is very wrong in supposing that
because he has never himself seen a so-called prehistoric
animal, therefore these creatures no longer exist. They are
indeed, as he has said, our ancestors, but they are, if I may
use the expression, our contemporary ancestors, who can
still be found with all their hideous and formidable
characteristics if one has but the energy and hardihood to
seek their haunts. Creatures which were supposed to be
Jurassic, monsters who would hunt down and devour our
largest and fiercest mammals, still exist." (Cries of "Bosh!"
"Prove it!" "How do YOU know?" "Question!") "How do I
know, you ask me? I know because I have visited their secret
haunts. I know because I have seen some of them."
(Applause, uproar, and a voice, "Liar!") "Am I a liar?"
(General hearty and noisy assent.) "Did I hear someone say
that I was a liar? Will the person who called me a liar kindly
stand up that I may know him?" (A voice, "Here he is, sir!"
and an inoffensive little person in spectacles, struggling
violently, was held up among a group of students.) "Did you
venture to call me a liar?" ("No, sir, no!" shouted the accused,
and disappeared like a jack-in-the-box.) "If any person in this
hall dares to doubt my veracity, I shall be glad to have a few
words with him after the lecture." ("Liar!") "Who said that?"
(Again the inoffensive one plunging desperately, was elevated
high into the air.) "If I come down among you——" (General
chorus of "Come, love, come!" which interrupted the
proceedings for some moments, while the chairman, standing
up and waving both his arms, seemed to be conducting the
music. The Professor, with his face flushed, his nostrils
dilated, and his beard bristling, was now in a proper Berserk
mood.) "Every great discoverer has been met with the same
incredulity—the sure brand of a generation of fools. When
great facts are laid before you, you have not the intuition,
the imagination which would help you to understand them.
You can only throw mud at the men who have risked their
lives to open new fields to science. You persecute the
prophets! Galileo! Darwin, and I——" (Prolonged cheering
and complete interruption.)

All this is from my hurried notes taken at the time,

which give little notion of the absolute chaos to which the
assembly had by this time been reduced. So terrific was the
uproar that several ladies had already beaten a hurried
retreat. Grave and reverend seniors seemed to have caught
the prevailing spirit as badly as the students, and I saw
white-bearded men rising and shaking their fists at the
obdurate Professor. The whole great audience seethed and
simmered like a boiling pot. The Professor took a step
forward and raised both his hands. There was something so
big and arresting and virile in the man that the clatter and
shouting died gradually away before his commanding gesture
and his masterful eyes. He seemed to have a definite
message. They hushed to hear it.

"I will not detain you," he said. "It is not worth it. Truth
is truth, and the noise of a number of foolish young men—
and, I fear I must add, of their equally foolish seniors—
cannot affect the matter. I claim that I have opened a new
field of science. You dispute it." (Cheers.) "Then I put you to
the test. Will you accredit one or more of your own number
to go out as your representatives and test my statement in
your name?"

Mr. Summerlee, the veteran Professor of Comparative

Anatomy, rose among the audience, a tall, thin, bitter man,
with the withered aspect of a theologian. He wished, he said,
to ask Professor Challenger whether the results to which he
had alluded in his remarks had been obtained during a
journey to the headwaters of the Amazon made by him two
years before.

Professor Challenger answered that they had.

Mr. Summerlee desired to know how it was that

Professor Challenger claimed to have made discoveries in
those regions which had been overlooked by Wallace, Bates,
and other previous explorers of established scientific repute.

Professor Challenger answered that Mr. Summerlee

appeared to be confusing the Amazon with the Thames; that
it was in reality a somewhat larger river; that Mr. Summerlee
might be interested to know that with the Orinoco, which
communicated with it, some fifty thousand miles of country
were opened up, and that in so vast a space it was not
impossible for one person to find what another had missed.

Mr. Summerlee declared, with an acid smile, that he

fully appreciated the difference between the Thames and the
Amazon, which lay in the fact that any assertion about the
former could be tested, while about the latter it could not.
He would be obliged if Professor Challenger would give the
latitude and the longitude of the country in which prehistoric
animals were to be found.

Professor Challenger replied that he reserved such

information for good reasons of his own, but would be
prepared to give it with proper precautions to a committee
chosen from the audience. Would Mr. Summerlee serve on
such a committee and test his story in person?

Mr. Summerlee: "Yes, I will." (Great cheering.)

Professor Challenger: "Then I guarantee that I will place

in your hands such material as will enable you to find your
way. It is only right, however, since Mr. Summerlee goes to
check my statement that I should have one or more with him
who may check his. I will not disguise from you that there
are difficulties and dangers. Mr. Summerlee will need a
younger colleague. May I ask for volunteers?"

It is thus that the great crisis of a man's life springs out

at him. Could I have imagined when I entered that hall that I
was about to pledge myself to a wilder adventure than had
ever come to me in my dreams? But Gladys—was it not the
very opportunity of which she spoke? Gladys would have
told me to go. I had sprung to my feet. I was speaking, and
yet I had prepared no words. Tarp Henry, my companion,
was plucking at my skirts and I heard him whispering, "Sit
down, Malone! Don't make a public ass of yourself." At the
same time I was aware that a tall, thin man, with dark
gingery hair, a few seats in front of me, was also upon his
feet. He glared back at me with hard angry eyes, but I
refused to give way.

"I will go, Mr. Chairman," I kept repeating over and over
again.

"Name! Name!" cried the audience.

"My name is Edward Dunn Malone. I am the reporter of

the Daily Gazette. I claim to be an absolutely unprejudiced
witness."

"What is YOUR name, sir?" the chairman asked of my

tall rival.

"I am Lord John Roxton. I have already been up the

Amazon, I know all the ground, and have special
qualifications for this investigation."

"Lord John Roxton's reputation as a sportsman and a

traveler is, of course, world-famous," said the chairman; "at
the same time it would certainly be as well to have a member
of the Press upon such an expedition."
 "Then I move," said Professor Challenger, "that both
these gentlemen be elected, as representatives of this
meeting, to accompany Professor Summerlee upon his
journey to investigate and to report upon the truth of my
statements."

And so, amid shouting and cheering, our fate was

decided, and I found myself borne away in the human
current which swirled towards the door, with my mind half
stunned by the vast new project which had risen so suddenly
before it. As I emerged from the hall I was conscious for a
moment of a rush of laughing students—down the pavement,
and of an arm wielding a heavy umbrella, which rose and fell
in the midst of them. Then, amid a mixture of groans and
cheers, Professor Challenger's electric brougham slid from the
curb, and I found myself walking under the silvery lights of
Regent Street, full of thoughts of Gladys and of wonder as to
my future.

Suddenly there was a touch at my elbow. I turned, and

found myself looking into the humorous, masterful eyes of
the tall, thin man who had volunteered to be my companion
on this strange quest.

"Mr. Malone, I understand," said he. "We are to be

companions—what? My rooms are just over the road, in the
Albany. Perhaps you would have the kindness to spare me
half an hour, for there are one or two things that I badly
want to say to you."
 CHAPTER VI
"I was the Flail of the Lord"
Lord John Roxton and I turned down Vigo Street together
and through the dingy portals of the famous aristocratic
rookery. At the end of a long drab passage my new
acquaintance pushed open a door and turned on an electric
switch. A number of lamps shining through tinted shades
bathed the whole great room before us in a ruddy radiance.
Standing in the doorway and glancing round me, I had a
general impression of extraordinary comfort and elegance
combined with an atmosphere of masculine virility.
Everywhere there were mingled the luxury of the wealthy
man of taste and the careless untidiness of the bachelor. Rich
furs and strange iridescent mats from some Oriental bazaar
were scattered upon the floor. Pictures and prints which
even my unpractised eyes could recognize as being of great
price and rarity hung thick upon the walls. Sketches of
boxers, of ballet-girls, and of racehorses alternated with a
sensuous Fragonard, a martial Girardet, and a dreamy
Turner. But amid these varied ornaments there were
scattered the trophies which brought back strongly to my
recollection the fact that Lord John Roxton was one of the
great all-round sportsmen and athletes of his day. A dark-
blue oar crossed with a cherry-pink one above his mantel-
piece spoke of the old Oxonian and Leander man, while the
foils and boxing-gloves above and below them were the tools
of a man who had won supremacy with each. Like a dado
round the room was the jutting line of splendid heavy game-
heads, the best of their sort from every quarter of the world,
with the rare white rhinoceros of the Lado Enclave drooping
its supercilious lip above them all.

In the center of the rich red carpet was a black and gold
Louis Quinze table, a lovely antique, now sacrilegiously
desecrated with marks of glasses and the scars of cigar-
stumps. On it stood a silver tray of smokables and a
burnished spirit-stand, from which and an adjacent siphon
my silent host proceeded to charge two high glasses. Having
indicated an arm-chair to me and placed my refreshment
near it, he handed me a long, smooth Havana. Then, seating
himself opposite to me, he looked at me long and fixedly
with his strange, twinkling, reckless eyes—eyes of a cold
light blue, the color of a glacier lake.

Through the thin haze of my cigar-smoke I noted the

details of a face which was already familiar to me from many
photographs—the strongly-curved nose, the hollow, worn
cheeks, the dark, ruddy hair, thin at the top, the crisp, virile
moustaches, the small, aggressive tuft upon his projecting
chin. Something there was of Napoleon III., something of
Don Quixote, and yet again something which was the
essence of the English country gentleman, the keen, alert,
open-air lover of dogs and of horses. His skin was of a rich
flower-pot red from sun and wind. His eyebrows were tufted
and overhanging, which gave those naturally cold eyes an
almost ferocious aspect, an impression which was increased
by his strong and furrowed brow. In figure he was spare, but
very strongly built—indeed, he had often proved that there
were few men in England capable of such sustained
exertions. His height was a little over six feet, but he seemed
shorter on account of a peculiar rounding of the shoulders.
Such was the famous Lord John Roxton as he sat opposite to
me, biting hard upon his cigar and watching me steadily in a
long and embarrassing silence.
 "Well," said he, at last, "we've gone and done it, young
fellah my lad." (This curious phrase he pronounced as if it
were all one word—"young-fellah-me-lad.") "Yes, we've taken
a jump, you an' me. I suppose, now, when you went into that
room there was no such notion in your head—what?"

"No thought of it."

"The same here. No thought of it. And here we are, up to

our necks in the tureen. Why, I've only been back three
weeks from Uganda, and taken a place in Scotland, and
signed the lease and all. Pretty goin's on—what? How does it
hit you?"

"Well, it is all in the main line of my business. I am a

journalist on the Gazette."

"Of course—you said so when you took it on. By the

way, I've got a small job for you, if you'll help me."

"With pleasure."

"Don't mind takin' a risk, do you?"

"What is the risk?"

"Well, it's Ballinger—he's the risk. You've heard of him?"

"No."

"Why, young fellah, where HAVE you lived? Sir John

Ballinger is the best gentleman jock in the north country. I
could hold him on the flat at my best, but over jumps he's
my master. Well, it's an open secret that when he's out of
trainin' he drinks hard—strikin' an average, he calls it. He
got delirium on Toosday, and has been ragin' like a devil ever
since. His room is above this. The doctors say that it is all up
with the old dear unless some food is got into him, but as he
lies in bed with a revolver on his coverlet, and swears he will
put six of the best through anyone that comes near him,
there's been a bit of a strike among the serving-men. He's a
hard nail, is Jack, and a dead shot, too, but you can't leave a
Grand National winner to die like that—what?"

"What do you mean to do, then?" I asked.

"Well, my idea was that you and I could rush him. He

may be dozin', and at the worst he can only wing one of us,
and the other should have him. If we can get his bolster-
cover round his arms and then 'phone up a stomach-pump,
we'll give the old dear the supper of his life."

It was a rather desperate business to come suddenly into

one's day's work. I don't think that I am a particularly brave
man. I have an Irish imagination which makes the unknown
and the untried more terrible than they are. On the other
hand, I was brought up with a horror of cowardice and with
a terror of such a stigma. I dare say that I could throw
myself over a precipice, like the Hun in the history books, if
my courage to do it were questioned, and yet it would surely
be pride and fear, rather than courage, which would be my
inspiration. Therefore, although every nerve in my body
shrank from the whisky-maddened figure which I pictured in
the room above, I still answered, in as careless a voice as I
could command, that I was ready to go. Some further remark
of Lord Roxton's about the danger only made me irritable.

"Talking won't make it any better," said I. "Come on."

I rose from my chair and he from his. Then with a little

confidential chuckle of laughter, he patted me two or three
times on the chest, finally pushing me back into my chair.

"All right, sonny my lad—you'll do," said he. I looked up

in surprise.
 "I saw after Jack Ballinger myself this mornin'. He blew a
hole in the skirt of my kimono, bless his shaky old hand, but
we got a jacket on him, and he's to be all right in a week. I
say, young fellah, I hope you don't mind—what? You see,
between you an' me close-tiled, I look on this South
American business as a mighty serious thing, and if I have a
pal with me I want a man I can bank on. So I sized you
down, and I'm bound to say that you came well out of it.
You see, it's all up to you and me, for this old Summerlee
man will want dry-nursin' from the first. By the way, are you
by any chance the Malone who is expected to get his Rugby
cap for Ireland?"

"A reserve, perhaps."

"I thought I remembered your face. Why, I was there

when you got that try against Richmond—as fine a swervin'
run as I saw the whole season. I never miss a Rugby match if
I can help it, for it is the manliest game we have left. Well, I
didn't ask you in here just to talk sport. We've got to fix our
business. Here are the sailin's, on the first page of the Times.
There's a Booth boat for Para next Wednesday week, and if
the Professor and you can work it, I think we should take
it—what? Very good, I'll fix it with him. What about your
outfit?"

"My paper will see to that."

"Can you shoot?"

"About average Territorial standard."

"Good Lord! as bad as that? It's the last thing you young
fellahs think of learnin'. You're all bees without stings, so far
as lookin' after the hive goes. You'll look silly, some o' these
days, when someone comes along an' sneaks the honey. But
you'll need to hold your gun straight in South America, for,
unless our friend the Professor is a madman or a liar, we
may see some queer things before we get back. What gun
have you?"

He crossed to an oaken cupboard, and as he threw it

open I caught a glimpse of glistening rows of parallel barrels,
like the pipes of an organ.

"I'll see what I can spare you out of my own battery,"

said he.

One by one he took out a succession of beautiful rifles,

opening and shutting them with a snap and a clang, and then
patting them as he put them back into the rack as tenderly
as a mother would fondle her children.

"This is a Bland's .577 axite express," said he. "I got that
big fellow with it." He glanced up at the white rhinoceros.
"Ten more yards, and he'd would have added me to HIS
collection.

'On that conical bullet his one chance hangs, 'Tis the
weak one's advantage fair.'

Hope you know your Gordon, for he's the poet of the
horse and the gun and the man that handles both. Now,
here's a useful tool—.470, telescopic sight, double ejector,
point-blank up to three-fifty. That's the rifle I used against
the Peruvian slave-drivers three years ago. I was the flail of
the Lord up in those parts, I may tell you, though you won't
find it in any Blue-book. There are times, young fellah, when
every one of us must make a stand for human right and
justice, or you never feel clean again. That's why I made a
little war on my own. Declared it myself, waged it myself,
ended it myself. Each of those nicks is for a slave murderer—
a good row of them—what? That big one is for Pedro Lopez,
the king of them all, that I killed in a backwater of the
Putomayo River. Now, here's something that would do for
you." He took out a beautiful brown-and-silver rifle. "Well
rubbered at the stock, sharply sighted, five cartridges to the
clip. You can trust your life to that." He handed it to me and
closed the door of his oak cabinet.

"By the way," he continued, coming back to his chair,

"what do you know of this Professor Challenger?"

"I never saw him till to-day."

"Well, neither did I. It's funny we should both sail under

sealed orders from a man we don't know. He seemed an
uppish old bird. His brothers of science don't seem too fond
of him, either. How came you to take an interest in the
affair?"

I told him shortly my experiences of the morning, and he

listened intently. Then he drew out a map of South America
and laid it on the table.

"I believe every single word he said to you was the

truth," said he, earnestly, "and, mind you, I have something
to go on when I speak like that. South America is a place I
love, and I think, if you take it right through from Darien to
Fuego, it's the grandest, richest, most wonderful bit of earth
upon this planet. People don't know it yet, and don't realize
what it may become. I've been up an' down it from end to
end, and had two dry seasons in those very parts, as I told
you when I spoke of the war I made on the slave-dealers.
Well, when I was up there I heard some yarns of the same
kind—traditions of Indians and the like, but with somethin'
behind them, no doubt. The more you knew of that country,
young fellah, the more you would understand that anythin'
was possible—ANYTHIN'! There are just some narrow water-
lanes along which folk travel, and outside that it is all
darkness. Now, down here in the Matto Grande"—he swept
his cigar over a part of the map—"or up in this corner where
three countries meet, nothin' would surprise me. As that
chap said to-night, there are fifty-thousand miles of water-
way runnin' through a forest that is very near the size of
Europe. You and I could be as far away from each other as
Scotland is from Constantinople, and yet each of us be in the
same great Brazilian forest. Man has just made a track here
and a scrape there in the maze. Why, the river rises and falls
the best part of forty feet, and half the country is a morass
that you can't pass over. Why shouldn't somethin' new and
wonderful lie in such a country? And why shouldn't we be
the men to find it out? Besides," he added, his queer, gaunt
face shining with delight, "there's a sportin' risk in every mile
of it. I'm like an old golf-ball—I've had all the white paint
knocked off me long ago. Life can whack me about now, and
it can't leave a mark. But a sportin' risk, young fellah, that's
the salt of existence. Then it's worth livin' again. We're all
gettin' a deal too soft and dull and comfy. Give me the great
waste lands and the wide spaces, with a gun in my fist and
somethin' to look for that's worth findin'. I've tried war and
steeplechasin' and aeroplanes, but this huntin' of beasts that
look like a lobster-supper dream is a brand-new sensation."
He chuckled with glee at the prospect.

Perhaps I have dwelt too long upon this new

acquaintance, but he is to be my comrade for many a day,
and so I have tried to set him down as I first saw him, with
his quaint personality and his queer little tricks of speech
and of thought. It was only the need of getting in the account
of my meeting which drew me at last from his company. I
left him seated amid his pink radiance, oiling the lock of his
favorite rifle, while he still chuckled to himself at the
thought of the adventures which awaited us. It was very
clear to me that if dangers lay before us I could not in all
England have found a cooler head or a braver spirit with
which to share them.

That night, wearied as I was after the wonderful

happenings of the day, I sat late with McArdle, the news
editor, explaining to him the whole situation, which he
thought important enough to bring next morning before the
notice of Sir George Beaumont, the chief. It was agreed that I
should write home full accounts of my adventures in the
shape of successive letters to McArdle, and that these should
either be edited for the Gazette as they arrived, or held back
to be published later, according to the wishes of Professor
Challenger, since we could not yet know what conditions he
might attach to those directions which should guide us to the
unknown land. In response to a telephone inquiry, we
received nothing more definite than a fulmination against the
Press, ending up with the remark that if we would notify our
boat he would hand us any directions which he might think
it proper to give us at the moment of starting. A second
question from us failed to elicit any answer at all, save a
plaintive bleat from his wife to the effect that her husband
was in a very violent temper already, and that she hoped we
would do nothing to make it worse. A third attempt, later in
the day, provoked a terrific crash, and a subsequent message
from the Central Exchange that Professor Challenger's
receiver had been shattered. After that we abandoned all
attempt at communication.

And now my patient readers, I can address you directly

no longer. From now onwards (if, indeed, any continuation
of this narrative should ever reach you) it can only be
through the paper which I represent. In the hands of the
editor I leave this account of the events which have led up to
one of the most remarkable expeditions of all time, so that if
I never return to England there shall be some record as to
how the affair came about. I am writing these last lines in
the saloon of the Booth liner Francisca, and they will go back
by the pilot to the keeping of Mr. McArdle. Let me draw one
last picture before I close the notebook—a picture which is
the last memory of the old country which I bear away with
me. It is a wet, foggy morning in the late spring; a thin, cold
rain is falling. Three shining mackintoshed figures are
walking down the quay, making for the gang-plank of the
great liner from which the blue-peter is flying. In front of
them a porter pushes a trolley piled high with trunks, wraps,
and gun-cases. Professor Summerlee, a long, melancholy
figure, walks with dragging steps and drooping head, as one
who is already profoundly sorry for himself. Lord John
Roxton steps briskly, and his thin, eager face beams forth
between his hunting-cap and his muffler. As for myself, I am
glad to have got the bustling days of preparation and the
pangs of leave-taking behind me, and I have no doubt that I
show it in my bearing. Suddenly, just as we reach the vessel,
there is a shout behind us. It is Professor Challenger, who
had promised to see us off. He runs after us, a puffing, red-
faced, irascible figure.

"No thank you," says he; "I should much prefer not to go
aboard. I have only a few words to say to you, and they can
very well be said where we are. I beg you not to imagine that
I am in any way indebted to you for making this journey. I
would have you to understand that it is a matter of perfect
indifference to me, and I refuse to entertain the most remote
sense of personal obligation. Truth is truth, and nothing
which you can report can affect it in any way, though it may
excite the emotions and allay the curiosity of a number of
very ineffectual people. My directions for your instruction
and guidance are in this sealed envelope. You will open it
when you reach a town upon the Amazon which is called
Manaos, but not until the date and hour which is marked
upon the outside. Have I made myself clear? I leave the strict
observance of my conditions entirely to your honor. No, Mr.
Malone, I will place no restriction upon your
correspondence, since the ventilation of the facts is the
object of your journey; but I demand that you shall give no
particulars as to your exact destination, and that nothing be
actually published until your return. Good-bye, sir. You have
done something to mitigate my feelings for the loathsome
profession to which you unhappily belong. Good-bye, Lord
John. Science is, as I understand, a sealed book to you; but
you may congratulate yourself upon the hunting-field which
awaits you. You will, no doubt, have the opportunity of
describing in the Field how you brought down the rocketing
dimorphodon. And good-bye to you also, Professor
Summerlee. If you are still capable of self-improvement, of
which I am frankly unconvinced, you will surely return to
London a wiser man."

So he turned upon his heel, and a minute later from the

deck I could see his short, squat figure bobbing about in the
distance as he made his way back to his train. Well, we are
well down Channel now. There's the last bell for letters, and
it's good-bye to the pilot. We'll be "down, hull-down, on the
old trail" from now on. God bless all we leave behind us, and
send us safely back.

Ebd
E-BooksDirectory.com
 CHAPTER VII
"To-morrow we Disappear into the Unknown"
I will not bore those whom this narrative may reach by
an account of our luxurious voyage upon the Booth liner, nor
will I tell of our week's stay at Para (save that I should wish
to acknowledge the great kindness of the Pereira da Pinta
Company in helping us to get together our equipment). I will
also allude very briefly to our river journey, up a wide, slow-
moving, clay-tinted stream, in a steamer which was little
smaller than that which had carried us across the Atlantic.
Eventually we found ourselves through the narrows of
Obidos and reached the town of Manaos. Here we were
rescued from the limited attractions of the local inn by Mr.
Shortman, the representative of the British and Brazilian
Trading Company. In his hospital Fazenda we spent our time
until the day when we were empowered to open the letter of
instructions given to us by Professor Challenger. Before I
reach the surprising events of that date I would desire to give
a clearer sketch of my comrades in this enterprise, and of the
associates whom we had already gathered together in South
America. I speak freely, and I leave the use of my material to
your own discretion, Mr. McArdle, since it is through your
hands that this report must pass before it reaches the world.

The scientific attainments of Professor Summerlee are

too well known for me to trouble to recapitulate them. He is
better equipped for a rough expedition of this sort than one
would imagine at first sight. His tall, gaunt, stringy figure is
insensible to fatigue, and his dry, half-sarcastic, and often
wholly unsympathetic manner is uninfluenced by any change
in his surroundings. Though in his sixty-sixth year, I have
never heard him express any dissatisfaction at the occasional
hardships which we have had to encounter. I had regarded
his presence as an encumbrance to the expedition, but, as a
matter of fact, I am now well convinced that his power of
endurance is as great as my own. In temper he is naturally
acid and sceptical. From the beginning he has never
concealed his belief that Professor Challenger is an absolute
fraud, that we are all embarked upon an absurd wild-goose
chase and that we are likely to reap nothing but
disappointment and danger in South America, and
corresponding ridicule in England. Such are the views which,
with much passionate distortion of his thin features and
wagging of his thin, goat-like beard, he poured into our ears
all the way from Southampton to Manaos. Since landing
from the boat he has obtained some consolation from the
beauty and variety of the insect and bird life around him, for
he is absolutely whole-hearted in his devotion to science. He
spends his days flitting through the woods with his shot-gun
and his butterfly-net, and his evenings in mounting the many
specimens he has acquired. Among his minor peculiarities
are that he is careless as to his attire, unclean in his person,
exceedingly absent-minded in his habits, and addicted to
smoking a short briar pipe, which is seldom out of his
mouth. He has been upon several scientific expeditions in his
youth (he was with Robertson in Papua), and the life of the
camp and the canoe is nothing fresh to him.

Lord John Roxton has some points in common with

Professor Summerlee, and others in which they are the very
antithesis to each other. He is twenty years younger, but has
something of the same spare, scraggy physique. As to his
appearance, I have, as I recollect, described it in that portion
of my narrative which I have left behind me in London. He is
exceedingly neat and prim in his ways, dresses always with
great care in white drill suits and high brown mosquito-
boots, and shaves at least once a day. Like most men of
action, he is laconic in speech, and sinks readily into his own
thoughts, but he is always quick to answer a question or join
in a conversation, talking in a queer, jerky, half-humorous
fashion. His knowledge of the world, and very especially of
South America, is surprising, and he has a whole-hearted
belief in the possibilities of our journey which is not to be
dashed by the sneers of Professor Summerlee. He has a
gentle voice and a quiet manner, but behind his twinkling
blue eyes there lurks a capacity for furious wrath and
implacable resolution, the more dangerous because they are
held in leash. He spoke little of his own exploits in Brazil and
Peru, but it was a revelation to me to find the excitement
which was caused by his presence among the riverine
natives, who looked upon him as their champion and
protector. The exploits of the Red Chief, as they called him,
had become legends among them, but the real facts, as far as
I could learn them, were amazing enough.

These were that Lord John had found himself some years
before in that no-man's-land which is formed by the half-
defined frontiers between Peru, Brazil, and Columbia. In this
great district the wild rubber tree flourishes, and has
become, as in the Congo, a curse to the natives which can
only be compared to their forced labor under the Spaniards
upon the old silver mines of Darien. A handful of villainous
half-breeds dominated the country, armed such Indians as
would support them, and turned the rest into slaves,
terrorizing them with the most inhuman tortures in order to
force them to gather the india-rubber, which was then
floated down the river to Para. Lord John Roxton
expostulated on behalf of the wretched victims, and received
nothing but threats and insults for his pains. He then
formally declared war against Pedro Lopez, the leader of the
slave-drivers, enrolled a band of runaway slaves in his
service, armed them, and conducted a campaign, which
ended by his killing with his own hands the notorious half-
breed and breaking down the system which he represented.

No wonder that the ginger-headed man with the silky

voice and the free and easy manners was now looked upon
with deep interest upon the banks of the great South
American river, though the feelings he inspired were
naturally mixed, since the gratitude of the natives was
equaled by the resentment of those who desired to exploit
them. One useful result of his former experiences was that he
could talk fluently in the Lingoa Geral, which is the peculiar
talk, one-third Portuguese and two-thirds Indian, which is
current all over Brazil.

I have said before that Lord John Roxton was a South

Americomaniac. He could not speak of that great country
without ardor, and this ardor was infectious, for, ignorant as
I was, he fixed my attention and stimulated my curiosity.
How I wish I could reproduce the glamour of his discourses,
the peculiar mixture of accurate knowledge and of racy
imagination which gave them their fascination, until even the
Professor's cynical and sceptical smile would gradually
vanish from his thin face as he listened. He would tell the
history of the mighty river so rapidly explored (for some of
the first conquerors of Peru actually crossed the entire
continent upon its waters), and yet so unknown in regard to
all that lay behind its ever-changing banks.

"What is there?" he would cry, pointing to the north.

"Wood and marsh and unpenetrated jungle. Who knows what
it may shelter? And there to the south? A wilderness of
swampy forest, where no white man has ever been. The
unknown is up against us on every side. Outside the narrow
lines of the rivers what does anyone know? Who will say
what is possible in such a country? Why should old man
Challenger not be right?" At which direct defiance the
stubborn sneer would reappear upon Professor Summerlee's
face, and he would sit, shaking his sardonic head in
unsympathetic silence, behind the cloud of his briar-root
pipe.

So much, for the moment, for my two white companions,

whose characters and limitations will be further exposed, as
surely as my own, as this narrative proceeds. But already we
have enrolled certain retainers who may play no small part in
what is to come. The first is a gigantic negro named Zambo,
who is a black Hercules, as willing as any horse, and about
as intelligent. Him we enlisted at Para, on the
recommendation of the steamship company, on whose
vessels he had learned to speak a halting English.

It was at Para also that we engaged Gomez and Manuel,

two half-breeds from up the river, just come down with a
cargo of redwood. They were swarthy fellows, bearded and
fierce, as active and wiry as panthers. Both of them had
spent their lives in those upper waters of the Amazon which
we were about to explore, and it was this recommendation
which had caused Lord John to engage them. One of them,
Gomez, had the further advantage that he could speak
excellent English. These men were willing to act as our
personal servants, to cook, to row, or to make themselves
useful in any way at a payment of fifteen dollars a month.
Besides these, we had engaged three Mojo Indians from
Bolivia, who are the most skilful at fishing and boat work of
all the river tribes. The chief of these we called Mojo, after
his tribe, and the others are known as Jose and Fernando.
Three white men, then, two half-breeds, one negro, and three
Indians made up the personnel of the little expedition which
lay waiting for its instructions at Manaos before starting
upon its singular quest.
 At last, after a weary week, the day had come and the
hour. I ask you to picture the shaded sitting-room of the
Fazenda St. Ignatio, two miles inland from the town of
Manaos. Outside lay the yellow, brassy glare of the sunshine,
with the shadows of the palm trees as black and definite as
the trees themselves. The air was calm, full of the eternal
hum of insects, a tropical chorus of many octaves, from the
deep drone of the bee to the high, keen pipe of the mosquito.
Beyond the veranda was a small cleared garden, bounded
with cactus hedges and adorned with clumps of flowering
shrubs, round which the great blue butterflies and the tiny
humming-birds fluttered and darted in crescents of sparkling
light. Within we were seated round the cane table, on which
lay a sealed envelope. Inscribed upon it, in the jagged
handwriting of Professor Challenger, were the words:—

"Instructions to Lord John Roxton and party. To be

opened at Manaos upon July 15th, at 12 o'clock precisely."

Lord John had placed his watch upon the table beside
him.

"We have seven more minutes," said he. "The old dear is
very precise."

Professor Summerlee gave an acid smile as he picked up

the envelope in his gaunt hand.

"What can it possibly matter whether we open it now or

in seven minutes?" said he. "It is all part and parcel of the
same system of quackery and nonsense, for which I regret to
say that the writer is notorious."
 "Oh, come, we must play the game accordin' to rules,"
said Lord John. "It's old man Challenger's show and we are
here by his good will, so it would be rotten bad form if we
didn't follow his instructions to the letter."

"A pretty business it is!" cried the Professor, bitterly. "It

struck me as preposterous in London, but I'm bound to say
that it seems even more so upon closer acquaintance. I don't
know what is inside this envelope, but, unless it is
something pretty definite, I shall be much tempted to take
the next down-river boat and catch the Bolivia at Para. After
all, I have some more responsible work in the world than to
run about disproving the assertions of a lunatic. Now,
Roxton, surely it is time."

"Time it is," said Lord John. "You can blow the whistle."
He took up the envelope and cut it with his penknife. From
it he drew a folded sheet of paper. This he carefully opened
out and flattened on the table. It was a blank sheet. He
turned it over. Again it was blank. We looked at each other
in a bewildered silence, which was broken by a discordant
burst of derisive laughter from Professor Summerlee.

"It is an open admission," he cried. "What more do you

want? The fellow is a self-confessed humbug. We have only
to return home and report him as the brazen imposter that
he is."

"Invisible ink!" I suggested.

"I don't think!" said Lord Roxton, holding the paper to

the light. "No, young fellah my lad, there is no use deceiving
yourself. I'll go bail for it that nothing has ever been written
upon this paper."

"May I come in?" boomed a voice from the veranda.

 The shadow of a squat figure had stolen across the patch
of sunlight. That voice! That monstrous breadth of shoulder!
We sprang to our feet with a gasp of astonishment as
Challenger, in a round, boyish straw-hat with a colored
ribbon—Challenger, with his hands in his jacket-pockets and
his canvas shoes daintily pointing as he walked—appeared in
the open space before us. He threw back his head, and there
he stood in the golden glow with all his old Assyrian
luxuriance of beard, all his native insolence of drooping
eyelids and intolerant eyes.

"I fear," said he, taking out his watch, "that I am a few
minutes too late. When I gave you this envelope I must
confess that I had never intended that you should open it,
for it had been my fixed intention to be with you before the
hour. The unfortunate delay can be apportioned between a
blundering pilot and an intrusive sandbank. I fear that it has
given my colleague, Professor Summerlee, occasion to
blaspheme."

"I am bound to say, sir," said Lord John, with some

sternness of voice, "that your turning up is a considerable
relief to us, for our mission seemed to have come to a
premature end. Even now I can't for the life of me
understand why you should have worked it in so
extraordinary a manner."

Instead of answering, Professor Challenger entered,

shook hands with myself and Lord John, bowed with
ponderous insolence to Professor Summerlee, and sank back
into a basket-chair, which creaked and swayed beneath his
weight.

"Is all ready for your journey?" he asked.

"We can start to-morrow."

 "Then so you shall. You need no chart of directions now,
since you will have the inestimable advantage of my own
guidance. From the first I had determined that I would
myself preside over your investigation. The most elaborate
charts would, as you will readily admit, be a poor substitute
for my own intelligence and advice. As to the small ruse
which I played upon you in the matter of the envelope, it is
clear that, had I told you all my intentions, I should have
been forced to resist unwelcome pressure to travel out with
you."

"Not from me, sir!" exclaimed Professor Summerlee,

heartily. "So long as there was another ship upon the
Atlantic."

Challenger waved him away with his great hairy hand.

"Your common sense will, I am sure, sustain my

objection and realize that it was better that I should direct
my own movements and appear only at the exact moment
when my presence was needed. That moment has now
arrived. You are in safe hands. You will not now fail to reach
your destination. From henceforth I take command of this
expedition, and I must ask you to complete your
preparations to-night, so that we may be able to make an
early start in the morning. My time is of value, and the same
thing may be said, no doubt, in a lesser degree of your own.
I propose, therefore, that we push on as rapidly as possible,
until I have demonstrated what you have come to see."

Lord John Roxton has chartered a large steam launch, the

Esmeralda, which was to carry us up the river. So far as
climate goes, it was immaterial what time we chose for our
expedition, as the temperature ranges from seventy-five to
ninety degrees both summer and winter, with no appreciable
difference in heat. In moisture, however, it is otherwise;
from December to May is the period of the rains, and during
this time the river slowly rises until it attains a height of
nearly forty feet above its low-water mark. It floods the
banks, extends in great lagoons over a monstrous waste of
country, and forms a huge district, called locally the Gapo,
which is for the most part too marshy for foot-travel and too
shallow for boating. About June the waters begin to fall, and
are at their lowest at October or November. Thus our
expedition was at the time of the dry season, when the great
river and its tributaries were more or less in a normal
condition.

The current of the river is a slight one, the drop being

not greater than eight inches in a mile. No stream could be
more convenient for navigation, since the prevailing wind is
south-east, and sailing boats may make a continuous
progress to the Peruvian frontier, dropping down again with
the current. In our own case the excellent engines of the
Esmeralda could disregard the sluggish flow of the stream,
and we made as rapid progress as if we were navigating a
stagnant lake. For three days we steamed north-westwards
up a stream which even here, a thousand miles from its
mouth, was still so enormous that from its center the two
banks were mere shadows upon the distant skyline. On the
fourth day after leaving Manaos we turned into a tributary
which at its mouth was little smaller than the main stream.
It narrowed rapidly, however, and after two more days'
steaming we reached an Indian village, where the Professor
insisted that we should land, and that the Esmeralda should
be sent back to Manaos. We should soon come upon rapids,
he explained, which would make its further use impossible.
He added privately that we were now approaching the door
of the unknown country, and that the fewer whom we took
into our confidence the better it would be. To this end also
he made each of us give our word of honor that we would
publish or say nothing which would give any exact clue as to
the whereabouts of our travels, while the servants were all
solemnly sworn to the same effect. It is for this reason that I
am compelled to be vague in my narrative, and I would warn
my readers that in any map or diagram which I may give the
relation of places to each other may be correct, but the
points of the compass are carefully confused, so that in no
way can it be taken as an actual guide to the country.
Professor Challenger's reasons for secrecy may be valid or
not, but we had no choice but to adopt them, for he was
prepared to abandon the whole expedition rather than
modify the conditions upon which he would guide us.

It was August 2nd when we snapped our last link with

the outer world by bidding farewell to the Esmeralda. Since
then four days have passed, during which we have engaged
two large canoes from the Indians, made of so light a
material (skins over a bamboo framework) that we should be
able to carry them round any obstacle. These we have loaded
with all our effects, and have engaged two additional Indians
to help us in the navigation. I understand that they are the
very two—Ataca and Ipetu by name—who accompanied
Professor Challenger upon his previous journey. They
appeared to be terrified at the prospect of repeating it, but
the chief has patriarchal powers in these countries, and if the
bargain is good in his eyes the clansman has little choice in
the matter.

So to-morrow we disappear into the unknown. This

account I am transmitting down the river by canoe, and it
may be our last word to those who are interested in our fate.
I have, according to our arrangement, addressed it to you,
my dear Mr. McArdle, and I leave it to your discretion to
delete, alter, or do what you like with it. From the assurance
of Professor Challenger's manner—and in spite of the
continued scepticism of Professor Summerlee—I have no
doubt that our leader will make good his statement, and that
we are really on the eve of some most remarkable
experiences.
 CHAPTER VIII
"The Outlying Pickets of the New World"
Our friends at home may well rejoice with us, for we are
at our goal, and up to a point, at least, we have shown that
the statement of Professor Challenger can be verified. We
have not, it is true, ascended the plateau, but it lies before
us, and even Professor Summerlee is in a more chastened
mood. Not that he will for an instant admit that his rival
could be right, but he is less persistent in his incessant
objections, and has sunk for the most part into an observant
silence. I must hark back, however, and continue my
narrative from where I dropped it. We are sending home one
of our local Indians who is injured, and I am committing this
letter to his charge, with considerable doubts in my mind as
to whether it will ever come to hand.

When I wrote last we were about to leave the Indian

village where we had been deposited by the Esmeralda. I
have to begin my report by bad news, for the first serious
personal trouble (I pass over the incessant bickerings
between the Professors) occurred this evening, and might
have had a tragic ending. I have spoken of our English-
speaking half-breed, Gomez—a fine worker and a willing
fellow, but afflicted, I fancy, with the vice of curiosity, which
is common enough among such men. On the last evening he
seems to have hid himself near the hut in which we were
discussing our plans, and, being observed by our huge negro
Zambo, who is as faithful as a dog and has the hatred which
all his race bear to the half-breeds, he was dragged out and
carried into our presence. Gomez whipped out his knife,
however, and but for the huge strength of his captor, which
enabled him to disarm him with one hand, he would
certainly have stabbed him. The matter has ended in
reprimands, the opponents have been compelled to shake
hands, and there is every hope that all will be well. As to the
feuds of the two learned men, they are continuous and
bitter. It must be admitted that Challenger is provocative in
the last degree, but Summerlee has an acid tongue, which
makes matters worse. Last night Challenger said that he
never cared to walk on the Thames Embankment and look up
the river, as it was always sad to see one's own eventual
goal. He is convinced, of course, that he is destined for
Westminster Abbey. Summerlee rejoined, however, with a
sour smile, by saying that he understood that Millbank
Prison had been pulled down. Challenger's conceit is too
colossal to allow him to be really annoyed. He only smiled in
his beard and repeated "Really! Really!" in the pitying tone
one would use to a child. Indeed, they are children both—the
one wizened and cantankerous, the other formidable and
overbearing, yet each with a brain which has put him in the
front rank of his scientific age. Brain, character, soul—only
as one sees more of life does one understand how distinct is
each.

The very next day we did actually make our start upon
this remarkable expedition. We found that all our
possessions fitted very easily into the two canoes, and we
divided our personnel, six in each, taking the obvious
precaution in the interests of peace of putting one Professor
into each canoe. Personally, I was with Challenger, who was
in a beatific humor, moving about as one in a silent ecstasy
and beaming benevolence from every feature. I have had
some experience of him in other moods, however, and shall
be the less surprised when the thunderstorms suddenly come
up amidst the sunshine. If it is impossible to be at your ease,
it is equally impossible to be dull in his company, for one is
always in a state of half-tremulous doubt as to what sudden
turn his formidable temper may take.
 For two days we made our way up a good-sized river
some hundreds of yards broad, and dark in color, but
transparent, so that one could usually see the bottom. The
affluents of the Amazon are, half of them, of this nature,
while the other half are whitish and opaque, the difference
depending upon the class of country through which they
have flowed. The dark indicate vegetable decay, while the
others point to clayey soil. Twice we came across rapids, and
in each case made a portage of half a mile or so to avoid
them. The woods on either side were primeval, which are
more easily penetrated than woods of the second growth,
and we had no great difficulty in carrying our canoes through
them. How shall I ever forget the solemn mystery of it? The
height of the trees and the thickness of the boles exceeded
anything which I in my town-bred life could have imagined,
shooting upwards in magnificent columns until, at an
enormous distance above our heads, we could dimly discern
the spot where they threw out their side-branches into
Gothic upward curves which coalesced to form one great
matted roof of verdure, through which only an occasional
golden ray of sunshine shot downwards to trace a thin
dazzling line of light amidst the majestic obscurity. As we
walked noiselessly amid the thick, soft carpet of decaying
vegetation the hush fell upon our souls which comes upon us
in the twilight of the Abbey, and even Professor Challenger's
full-chested notes sank into a whisper. Alone, I should have
been ignorant of the names of these giant growths, but our
men of science pointed out the cedars, the great silk cotton
trees, and the redwood trees, with all that profusion of
various plants which has made this continent the chief
supplier to the human race of those gifts of Nature which
depend upon the vegetable world, while it is the most
backward in those products which come from animal life.
Vivid orchids and wonderful colored lichens smoldered upon
the swarthy tree-trunks and where a wandering shaft of light
fell full upon the golden allamanda, the scarlet star-clusters
of the tacsonia, or the rich deep blue of ipomaea, the effect
was as a dream of fairyland. In these great wastes of forest,
life, which abhors darkness, struggles ever upwards to the
light. Every plant, even the smaller ones, curls and writhes to
the green surface, twining itself round its stronger and taller
brethren in the effort. Climbing plants are monstrous and
luxuriant, but others which have never been known to climb
elsewhere learn the art as an escape from that somber
shadow, so that the common nettle, the jasmine, and even
the jacitara palm tree can be seen circling the stems of the
cedars and striving to reach their crowns. Of animal life
there was no movement amid the majestic vaulted aisles
which stretched from us as we walked, but a constant
movement far above our heads told of that multitudinous
world of snake and monkey, bird and sloth, which lived in
the sunshine, and looked down in wonder at our tiny, dark,
stumbling figures in the obscure depths immeasurably below
them. At dawn and at sunset the howler monkeys screamed
together and the parrakeets broke into shrill chatter, but
during the hot hours of the day only the full drone of insects,
like the beat of a distant surf, filled the ear, while nothing
moved amid the solemn vistas of stupendous trunks, fading
away into the darkness which held us in. Once some bandy-
legged, lurching creature, an ant-eater or a bear, scuttled
clumsily amid the shadows. It was the only sign of earth life
which I saw in this great Amazonian forest.

And yet there were indications that even human life itself
was not far from us in those mysterious recesses. On the
third day out we were aware of a singular deep throbbing in
the air, rhythmic and solemn, coming and going fitfully
throughout the morning. The two boats were paddling within
a few yards of each other when first we heard it, and our
Indians remained motionless, as if they had been turned to
bronze, listening intently with expressions of terror upon
their faces.

"What is it, then?" I asked.

 "Drums," said Lord John, carelessly; "war drums. I have
heard them before."

"Yes, sir, war drums," said Gomez, the half-breed. "Wild

Indians, bravos, not mansos; they watch us every mile of the
way; kill us if they can."

"How can they watch us?" I asked, gazing into the dark,
motionless void.

The half-breed shrugged his broad shoulders.

"The Indians know. They have their own way. They

watch us. They talk the drum talk to each other. Kill us if
they can."

By the afternoon of that day—my pocket diary shows me

that it was Tuesday, August 18th—at least six or seven
drums were throbbing from various points. Sometimes they
beat quickly, sometimes slowly, sometimes in obvious
question and answer, one far to the east breaking out in a
high staccato rattle, and being followed after a pause by a
deep roll from the north. There was something indescribably
nerve-shaking and menacing in that constant mutter, which
seemed to shape itself into the very syllables of the half-
breed, endlessly repeated, "We will kill you if we can. We
will kill you if we can." No one ever moved in the silent
woods. All the peace and soothing of quiet Nature lay in that
dark curtain of vegetation, but away from behind there came
ever the one message from our fellow-man. "We will kill you
if we can," said the men in the east. "We will kill you if we
can," said the men in the north.

All day the drums rumbled and whispered, while their

menace reflected itself in the faces of our colored
companions. Even the hardy, swaggering half-breed seemed
cowed. I learned, however, that day once for all that both
Summerlee and Challenger possessed that highest type of
bravery, the bravery of the scientific mind. Theirs was the
spirit which upheld Darwin among the gauchos of the
Argentine or Wallace among the head-hunters of Malaya. It is
decreed by a merciful Nature that the human brain cannot
think of two things simultaneously, so that if it be steeped in
curiosity as to science it has no room for merely personal
considerations. All day amid that incessant and mysterious
menace our two Professors watched every bird upon the
wing, and every shrub upon the bank, with many a sharp
wordy contention, when the snarl of Summerlee came quick
upon the deep growl of Challenger, but with no more sense
of danger and no more reference to drum-beating Indians
than if they were seated together in the smoking-room of the
Royal Society's Club in St. James's Street. Once only did they
condescend to discuss them.

"Miranha or Amajuaca cannibals," said Challenger,

jerking his thumb towards the reverberating wood.

"No doubt, sir," Summerlee answered. "Like all such

tribes, I shall expect to find them of poly-synthetic speech
and of Mongolian type."

"Polysynthetic certainly," said Challenger, indulgently. "I

am not aware that any other type of language exists in this
continent, and I have notes of more than a hundred. The
Mongolian theory I regard with deep suspicion."

"I should have thought that even a limited knowledge of

comparative anatomy would have helped to verify it," said
Summerlee, bitterly.

Challenger thrust out his aggressive chin until he was all

beard and hat-rim. "No doubt, sir, a limited knowledge
would have that effect. When one's knowledge is exhaustive,
one comes to other conclusions." They glared at each other in
mutual defiance, while all round rose the distant whisper,
"We will kill you—we will kill you if we can."

That night we moored our canoes with heavy stones for

anchors in the center of the stream, and made every
preparation for a possible attack. Nothing came, however,
and with the dawn we pushed upon our way, the drum-
beating dying out behind us. About three o'clock in the
afternoon we came to a very steep rapid, more than a mile
long—the very one in which Professor Challenger had
suffered disaster upon his first journey. I confess that the
sight of it consoled me, for it was really the first direct
corroboration, slight as it was, of the truth of his story. The
Indians carried first our canoes and then our stores through
the brushwood, which is very thick at this point, while we
four whites, our rifles on our shoulders, walked between
them and any danger coming from the woods. Before evening
we had successfully passed the rapids, and made our way
some ten miles above them, where we anchored for the
night. At this point I reckoned that we had come not less
than a hundred miles up the tributary from the main stream.

It was in the early forenoon of the next day that we

made the great departure. Since dawn Professor Challenger
had been acutely uneasy, continually scanning each bank of
the river. Suddenly he gave an exclamation of satisfaction
and pointed to a single tree, which projected at a peculiar
angle over the side of the stream.

"What do you make of that?" he asked.

"It is surely an Assai palm," said Summerlee.

"Exactly. It was an Assai palm which I took for my

landmark. The secret opening is half a mile onwards upon
the other side of the river. There is no break in the trees.
That is the wonder and the mystery of it. There where you
see light-green rushes instead of dark-green undergrowth,
there between the great cotton woods, that is my private gate
into the unknown. Push through, and you will understand."

It was indeed a wonderful place. Having reached the

spot marked by a line of light-green rushes, we poled out two
canoes through them for some hundreds of yards, and
eventually emerged into a placid and shallow stream,
running clear and transparent over a sandy bottom. It may
have been twenty yards across, and was banked in on each
side by most luxuriant vegetation. No one who had not
observed that for a short distance reeds had taken the place
of shrubs, could possibly have guessed the existence of such
a stream or dreamed of the fairyland beyond.

For a fairyland it was—the most wonderful that the

imagination of man could conceive. The thick vegetation met
overhead, interlacing into a natural pergola, and through this
tunnel of verdure in a golden twilight flowed the green,
pellucid river, beautiful in itself, but marvelous from the
strange tints thrown by the vivid light from above filtered
and tempered in its fall. Clear as crystal, motionless as a
sheet of glass, green as the edge of an iceberg, it stretched in
front of us under its leafy archway, every stroke of our
paddles sending a thousand ripples across its shining
surface. It was a fitting avenue to a land of wonders. All sign
of the Indians had passed away, but animal life was more
frequent, and the tameness of the creatures showed that they
knew nothing of the hunter. Fuzzy little black-velvet
monkeys, with snow-white teeth and gleaming, mocking
eyes, chattered at us as we passed. With a dull, heavy splash
an occasional cayman plunged in from the bank. Once a
dark, clumsy tapir stared at us from a gap in the bushes, and
then lumbered away through the forest; once, too, the
yellow, sinuous form of a great puma whisked amid the
brushwood, and its green, baleful eyes glared hatred at us
over its tawny shoulder. Bird life was abundant, especially
the wading birds, stork, heron, and ibis gathering in little
groups, blue, scarlet, and white, upon every log which jutted
from the bank, while beneath us the crystal water was alive
with fish of every shape and color.

For three days we made our way up this tunnel of hazy

green sunshine. On the longer stretches one could hardly tell
as one looked ahead where the distant green water ended
and the distant green archway began. The deep peace of this
strange waterway was unbroken by any sign of man.

"No Indian here. Too much afraid. Curupuri," said

Gomez.

"Curupuri is the spirit of the woods," Lord John

explained. "It's a name for any kind of devil. The poor
beggars think that there is something fearsome in this
direction, and therefore they avoid it."

On the third day it became evident that our journey in

the canoes could not last much longer, for the stream was
rapidly growing more shallow. Twice in as many hours we
stuck upon the bottom. Finally we pulled the boats up
among the brushwood and spent the night on the bank of the
river. In the morning Lord John and I made our way for a
couple of miles through the forest, keeping parallel with the
stream; but as it grew ever shallower we returned and
reported, what Professor Challenger had already suspected,
that we had reached the highest point to which the canoes
could be brought. We drew them up, therefore, and
concealed them among the bushes, blazing a tree with our
axes, so that we should find them again. Then we distributed
the various burdens among us—guns, ammunition, food, a
tent, blankets, and the rest—and, shouldering our packages,
we set forth upon the more laborious stage of our journey.
 An unfortunate quarrel between our pepper-pots marked
the outset of our new stage. Challenger had from the moment
of joining us issued directions to the whole party, much to
the evident discontent of Summerlee. Now, upon his
assigning some duty to his fellow-Professor (it was only the
carrying of an aneroid barometer), the matter suddenly came
to a head.

"May I ask, sir," said Summerlee, with vicious calm, "in

what capacity you take it upon yourself to issue these
orders?"

Challenger glared and bristled.

"I do it, Professor Summerlee, as leader of this

expedition."

"I am compelled to tell you, sir, that I do not recognize

you in that capacity."

"Indeed!" Challenger bowed with unwieldy sarcasm.

"Perhaps you would define my exact position."

"Yes, sir. You are a man whose veracity is upon trial,

and this committee is here to try it. You walk, sir, with your
judges."

"Dear me!" said Challenger, seating himself on the side of

one of the canoes. "In that case you will, of course, go on
your way, and I will follow at my leisure. If I am not the
leader you cannot expect me to lead."

Thank heaven that there were two sane men—Lord John

Roxton and myself—to prevent the petulance and folly of our
learned Professors from sending us back empty-handed to
London. Such arguing and pleading and explaining before we
could get them mollified! Then at last Summerlee, with his
sneer and his pipe, would move forwards, and Challenger
would come rolling and grumbling after. By some good
fortune we discovered about this time that both our savants
had the very poorest opinion of Dr. Illingworth of Edinburgh.
Thenceforward that was our one safety, and every strained
situation was relieved by our introducing the name of the
Scotch zoologist, when both our Professors would form a
temporary alliance and friendship in their detestation and
abuse of this common rival.

Advancing in single file along the bank of the stream, we

soon found that it narrowed down to a mere brook, and
finally that it lost itself in a great green morass of sponge-like
mosses, into which we sank up to our knees. The place was
horribly haunted by clouds of mosquitoes and every form of
flying pest, so we were glad to find solid ground again and to
make a circuit among the trees, which enabled us to outflank
this pestilent morass, which droned like an organ in the
distance, so loud was it with insect life.

On the second day after leaving our canoes we found

that the whole character of the country changed. Our road
was persistently upwards, and as we ascended the woods
became thinner and lost their tropical luxuriance. The huge
trees of the alluvial Amazonian plain gave place to the
Phoenix and coco palms, growing in scattered clumps, with
thick brushwood between. In the damper hollows the
Mauritia palms threw out their graceful drooping fronds. We
traveled entirely by compass, and once or twice there were
differences of opinion between Challenger and the two
Indians, when, to quote the Professor's indignant words, the
whole party agreed to "trust the fallacious instincts of
undeveloped savages rather than the highest product of
modern European culture." That we were justified in doing so
was shown upon the third day, when Challenger admitted
that he recognized several landmarks of his former journey,
and in one spot we actually came upon four fire-blackened
stones, which must have marked a camping-place.
 The road still ascended, and we crossed a rock-studded
slope which took two days to traverse. The vegetation had
again changed, and only the vegetable ivory tree remained,
with a great profusion of wonderful orchids, among which I
learned to recognize the rare Nuttonia Vexillaria and the
glorious pink and scarlet blossoms of Cattleya and
odontoglossum. Occasional brooks with pebbly bottoms and
fern-draped banks gurgled down the shallow gorges in the
hill, and offered good camping-grounds every evening on the
banks of some rock-studded pool, where swarms of little
blue-backed fish, about the size and shape of English trout,
gave us a delicious supper.

On the ninth day after leaving the canoes, having done,

as I reckon, about a hundred and twenty miles, we began to
emerge from the trees, which had grown smaller until they
were mere shrubs. Their place was taken by an immense
wilderness of bamboo, which grew so thickly that we could
only penetrate it by cutting a pathway with the machetes and
billhooks of the Indians. It took us a long day, traveling from
seven in the morning till eight at night, with only two breaks
of one hour each, to get through this obstacle. Anything
more monotonous and wearying could not be imagined, for,
even at the most open places, I could not see more than ten
or twelve yards, while usually my vision was limited to the
back of Lord John's cotton jacket in front of me, and to the
yellow wall within a foot of me on either side. From above
came one thin knife-edge of sunshine, and fifteen feet over
our heads one saw the tops of the reeds swaying against the
deep blue sky. I do not know what kind of creatures inhabit
such a thicket, but several times we heard the plunging of
large, heavy animals quite close to us. From their sounds
Lord John judged them to be some form of wild cattle. Just
as night fell we cleared the belt of bamboos, and at once
formed our camp, exhausted by the interminable day.
 Early next morning we were again afoot, and found that
the character of the country had changed once again. Behind
us was the wall of bamboo, as definite as if it marked the
course of a river. In front was an open plain, sloping slightly
upwards and dotted with clumps of tree-ferns, the whole
curving before us until it ended in a long, whale-backed
ridge. This we reached about midday, only to find a shallow
valley beyond, rising once again into a gentle incline which
led to a low, rounded sky-line. It was here, while we crossed
the first of these hills, that an incident occurred which may
or may not have been important.

Professor Challenger, who with the two local Indians was

in the van of the party, stopped suddenly and pointed
excitedly to the right. As he did so we saw, at the distance of
a mile or so, something which appeared to be a huge gray
bird flap slowly up from the ground and skim smoothly off,
flying very low and straight, until it was lost among the tree-
ferns.

"Did you see it?" cried Challenger, in exultation.

"Summerlee, did you see it?"

His colleague was staring at the spot where the creature

had disappeared.

"What do you claim that it was?" he asked.

"To the best of my belief, a pterodactyl."

Summerlee burst into derisive laughter "A pter-

fiddlestick!" said he. "It was a stork, if ever I saw one."

Challenger was too furious to speak. He simply swung

his pack upon his back and continued upon his march. Lord
John came abreast of me, however, and his face was more
grave than was his wont. He had his Zeiss glasses in his
hand.
 "I focused it before it got over the trees," said he. "I won't
undertake to say what it was, but I'll risk my reputation as a
sportsman that it wasn't any bird that ever I clapped eyes on
in my life."

So there the matter stands. Are we really just at the edge

of the unknown, encountering the outlying pickets of this
lost world of which our leader speaks? I give you the
incident as it occurred and you will know as much as I do. It
stands alone, for we saw nothing more which could be called
remarkable.

And now, my readers, if ever I have any, I have brought

you up the broad river, and through the screen of rushes,
and down the green tunnel, and up the long slope of palm
trees, and through the bamboo brake, and across the plain of
tree-ferns. At last our destination lay in full sight of us.
When we had crossed the second ridge we saw before us an
irregular, palm-studded plain, and then the line of high red
cliffs which I have seen in the picture. There it lies, even as I
write, and there can be no question that it is the same. At
the nearest point it is about seven miles from our present
camp, and it curves away, stretching as far as I can see.
Challenger struts about like a prize peacock, and Summerlee
is silent, but still sceptical. Another day should bring some
of our doubts to an end. Meanwhile, as Jose, whose arm was
pierced by a broken bamboo, insists upon returning, I send
this letter back in his charge, and only hope that it may
eventually come to hand. I will write again as the occasion
serves. I have enclosed with this a rough chart of our
journey, which may have the effect of making the account
rather easier to understand.
 CHAPTER IX
"Who could have Foreseen it?"
A dreadful thing has happened to us. Who could have
foreseen it? I cannot foresee any end to our troubles. It may
be that we are condemned to spend our whole lives in this
strange, inaccessible place. I am still so confused that I can
hardly think clearly of the facts of the present or of the
chances of the future. To my astounded senses the one seems
most terrible and the other as black as night.

No men have ever found themselves in a worse position;

nor is there any use in disclosing to you our exact
geographical situation and asking our friends for a relief
party. Even if they could send one, our fate will in all human
probability be decided long before it could arrive in South
America.

We are, in truth, as far from any human aid as if we

were in the moon. If we are to win through, it is only our
own qualities which can save us. I have as companions three
remarkable men, men of great brain-power and of unshaken
courage. There lies our one and only hope. It is only when I
look upon the untroubled faces of my comrades that I see
some glimmer through the darkness. Outwardly I trust that I
appear as unconcerned as they. Inwardly I am filled with
apprehension.

Let me give you, with as much detail as I can, the

sequence of events which have led us to this catastrophe.
 When I finished my last letter I stated that we were
within seven miles from an enormous line of ruddy cliffs,
which encircled, beyond all doubt, the plateau of which
Professor Challenger spoke. Their height, as we approached
them, seemed to me in some places to be greater than he had
stated—running up in parts to at least a thousand feet—and
they were curiously striated, in a manner which is, I believe,
characteristic of basaltic upheavals. Something of the sort is
to be seen in Salisbury Crags at Edinburgh. The summit
showed every sign of a luxuriant vegetation, with bushes
near the edge, and farther back many high trees. There was
no indication of any life that we could see.

That night we pitched our camp immediately under the

cliff—a most wild and desolate spot. The crags above us
were not merely perpendicular, but curved outwards at the
top, so that ascent was out of the question. Close to us was
the high thin pinnacle of rock which I believe I mentioned
earlier in this narrative. It is like a broad red church spire,
the top of it being level with the plateau, but a great chasm
gaping between. On the summit of it there grew one high
tree. Both pinnacle and cliff were comparatively low—some
five or six hundred feet, I should think.

"It was on that," said Professor Challenger, pointing to

this tree, "that the pterodactyl was perched. I climbed half-
way up the rock before I shot him. I am inclined to think
that a good mountaineer like myself could ascend the rock to
the top, though he would, of course, be no nearer to the
plateau when he had done so."

As Challenger spoke of his pterodactyl I glanced at

Professor Summerlee, and for the first time I seemed to see
some signs of a dawning credulity and repentance. There was
no sneer upon his thin lips, but, on the contrary, a gray,
drawn look of excitement and amazement. Challenger saw it,
too, and reveled in the first taste of victory.
 "Of course," said he, with his clumsy and ponderous
sarcasm, "Professor Summerlee will understand that when I
speak of a pterodactyl I mean a stork—only it is the kind of
stork which has no feathers, a leathery skin, membranous
wings, and teeth in its jaws." He grinned and blinked and
bowed until his colleague turned and walked away.

In the morning, after a frugal breakfast of coffee and

manioc—we had to be economical of our stores—we held a
council of war as to the best method of ascending to the
plateau above us.

Challenger presided with a solemnity as if he were the

Lord Chief Justice on the Bench. Picture him seated upon a
rock, his absurd boyish straw hat tilted on the back of his
head, his supercilious eyes dominating us from under his
drooping lids, his great black beard wagging as he slowly
defined our present situation and our future movements.

Beneath him you might have seen the three of us—

myself, sunburnt, young, and vigorous after our open-air
tramp; Summerlee, solemn but still critical, behind his
eternal pipe; Lord John, as keen as a razor-edge, with his
supple, alert figure leaning upon his rifle, and his eager eyes
fixed eagerly upon the speaker. Behind us were grouped the
two swarthy half-breeds and the little knot of Indians, while
in front and above us towered those huge, ruddy ribs of
rocks which kept us from our goal.

"I need not say," said our leader, "that on the occasion of
my last visit I exhausted every means of climbing the cliff,
and where I failed I do not think that anyone else is likely to
succeed, for I am something of a mountaineer. I had none of
the appliances of a rock-climber with me, but I have taken
the precaution to bring them now. With their aid I am
positive I could climb that detached pinnacle to the summit;
but so long as the main cliff overhangs, it is vain to attempt
ascending that. I was hurried upon my last visit by the
approach of the rainy season and by the exhaustion of my
supplies. These considerations limited my time, and I can
only claim that I have surveyed about six miles of the cliff to
the east of us, finding no possible way up. What, then, shall
we now do?"

"There seems to be only one reasonable course," said

Professor Summerlee. "If you have explored the east, we
should travel along the base of the cliff to the west, and seek
for a practicable point for our ascent."

"That's it," said Lord John. "The odds are that this
plateau is of no great size, and we shall travel round it until
we either find an easy way up it, or come back to the point
from which we started."

"I have already explained to our young friend here," said

Challenger (he has a way of alluding to me as if I were a
school child ten years old), "that it is quite impossible that
there should be an easy way up anywhere, for the simple
reason that if there were the summit would not be isolated,
and those conditions would not obtain which have effected
so singular an interference with the general laws of survival.
Yet I admit that there may very well be places where an
expert human climber may reach the summit, and yet a
cumbrous and heavy animal be unable to descend. It is
certain that there is a point where an ascent is possible."

"How do you know that, sir?" asked Summerlee, sharply.

"Because my predecessor, the American Maple White,

actually made such an ascent. How otherwise could he have
seen the monster which he sketched in his notebook?"

"There you reason somewhat ahead of the proved facts,"

said the stubborn Summerlee. "I admit your plateau, because
I have seen it; but I have not as yet satisfied myself that it
contains any form of life whatever."

"What you admit, sir, or what you do not admit, is really

of inconceivably small importance. I am glad to perceive that
the plateau itself has actually obtruded itself upon your
intelligence." He glanced up at it, and then, to our
amazement, he sprang from his rock, and, seizing Summerlee
by the neck, he tilted his face into the air. "Now sir!" he
shouted, hoarse with excitement. "Do I help you to realize
that the plateau contains some animal life?"

I have said that a thick fringe of green overhung the edge

of the cliff. Out of this there had emerged a black, glistening
object. As it came slowly forth and overhung the chasm, we
saw that it was a very large snake with a peculiar flat, spade-
like head. It wavered and quivered above us for a minute,
the morning sun gleaming upon its sleek, sinuous coils. Then
it slowly drew inwards and disappeared.

Summerlee had been so interested that he had stood

unresisting while Challenger tilted his head into the air. Now
he shook his colleague off and came back to his dignity.

"I should be glad, Professor Challenger," said he, "if you

could see your way to make any remarks which may occur to
you without seizing me by the chin. Even the appearance of a
very ordinary rock python does not appear to justify such a
liberty."

"But there is life upon the plateau all the same," his
colleague replied in triumph. "And now, having demonstrated
this important conclusion so that it is clear to anyone,
however prejudiced or obtuse, I am of opinion that we
cannot do better than break up our camp and travel to
westward until we find some means of ascent."
 The ground at the foot of the cliff was rocky and broken
so that the going was slow and difficult. Suddenly we came,
however, upon something which cheered our hearts. It was
the site of an old encampment, with several empty Chicago
meat tins, a bottle labeled "Brandy," a broken tin-opener, and
a quantity of other travelers' debris. A crumpled,
disintegrated newspaper revealed itself as the Chicago
Democrat, though the date had been obliterated.

"Not mine," said Challenger. "It must be Maple White's."

Lord John had been gazing curiously at a great tree-fern

which overshadowed the encampment. "I say, look at this,"
said he. "I believe it is meant for a sign-post."

A slip of hard wood had been nailed to the tree in such a

way as to point to the westward.

"Most certainly a sign-post," said Challenger. "What else?

Finding himself upon a dangerous errand, our pioneer has
left this sign so that any party which follows him may know
the way he has taken. Perhaps we shall come upon some
other indications as we proceed."

We did indeed, but they were of a terrible and most

unexpected nature. Immediately beneath the cliff there grew
a considerable patch of high bamboo, like that which we had
traversed in our journey. Many of these stems were twenty
feet high, with sharp, strong tops, so that even as they stood
they made formidable spears. We were passing along the
edge of this cover when my eye was caught by the gleam of
something white within it. Thrusting in my head between the
stems, I found myself gazing at a fleshless skull. The whole
skeleton was there, but the skull had detached itself and lay
some feet nearer to the open.

With a few blows from the machetes of our Indians we

cleared the spot and were able to study the details of this old
tragedy. Only a few shreds of clothes could still be
distinguished, but there were the remains of boots upon the
bony feet, and it was very clear that the dead man was a
European. A gold watch by Hudson, of New York, and a
chain which held a stylographic pen, lay among the bones.
There was also a silver cigarette-case, with "J. C., from A. E.
S.," upon the lid. The state of the metal seemed to show that
the catastrophe had occurred no great time before.

"Who can he be?" asked Lord John. "Poor devil! every

bone in his body seems to be broken."

"And the bamboo grows through his smashed ribs," said

Summerlee. "It is a fast-growing plant, but it is surely
inconceivable that this body could have been here while the
canes grew to be twenty feet in length."

"As to the man's identity," said Professor Challenger, "I

have no doubt whatever upon that point. As I made my way
up the river before I reached you at the fazenda I instituted
very particular inquiries about Maple White. At Para they
knew nothing. Fortunately, I had a definite clew, for there
was a particular picture in his sketch-book which showed
him taking lunch with a certain ecclesiastic at Rosario. This
priest I was able to find, and though he proved a very
argumentative fellow, who took it absurdly amiss that I
should point out to him the corrosive effect which modern
science must have upon his beliefs, he none the less gave me
some positive information. Maple White passed Rosario four
years ago, or two years before I saw his dead body. He was
not alone at the time, but there was a friend, an American
named James Colver, who remained in the boat and did not
meet this ecclesiastic. I think, therefore, that there can be no
doubt that we are now looking upon the remains of this
James Colver."
 "Nor," said Lord John, "is there much doubt as to how he
met his death. He has fallen or been chucked from the top,
and so been impaled. How else could he come by his broken
bones, and how could he have been stuck through by these
canes with their points so high above our heads?"

A hush came over us as we stood round these shattered

remains and realized the truth of Lord John Roxton's words.
The beetling head of the cliff projected over the cane-brake.
Undoubtedly he had fallen from above. But had he fallen?
Had it been an accident? Or—already ominous and terrible
possibilities began to form round that unknown land.

We moved off in silence, and continued to coast round

the line of cliffs, which were as even and unbroken as some
of those monstrous Antarctic ice-fields which I have seen
depicted as stretching from horizon to horizon and towering
high above the mast-heads of the exploring vessel.

In five miles we saw no rift or break. And then suddenly

we perceived something which filled us with new hope. In a
hollow of the rock, protected from rain, there was drawn a
rough arrow in chalk, pointing still to the westwards.

"Maple White again," said Professor Challenger. "He had

some presentiment that worthy footsteps would follow close
behind him."

"He had chalk, then?"

"A box of colored chalks was among the effects I found in

his knapsack. I remember that the white one was worn to a
stump."

"That is certainly good evidence," said Summerlee. "We

can only accept his guidance and follow on to the westward."
 We had proceeded some five more miles when again we
saw a white arrow upon the rocks. It was at a point where
the face of the cliff was for the first time split into a narrow
cleft. Inside the cleft was a second guidance mark, which
pointed right up it with the tip somewhat elevated, as if the
spot indicated were above the level of the ground.

It was a solemn place, for the walls were so gigantic and

the slit of blue sky so narrow and so obscured by a double
fringe of verdure, that only a dim and shadowy light
penetrated to the bottom. We had had no food for many
hours, and were very weary with the stony and irregular
journey, but our nerves were too strung to allow us to halt.
We ordered the camp to be pitched, however, and, leaving
the Indians to arrange it, we four, with the two half-breeds,
proceeded up the narrow gorge.

It was not more than forty feet across at the mouth, but
it rapidly closed until it ended in an acute angle, too straight
and smooth for an ascent. Certainly it was not this which our
pioneer had attempted to indicate. We made our way back—
the whole gorge was not more than a quarter of a mile
deep—and then suddenly the quick eyes of Lord John fell
upon what we were seeking. High up above our heads, amid
the dark shadows, there was one circle of deeper gloom.
Surely it could only be the opening of a cave.

The base of the cliff was heaped with loose stones at the
spot, and it was not difficult to clamber up. When we
reached it, all doubt was removed. Not only was it an
opening into the rock, but on the side of it there was marked
once again the sign of the arrow. Here was the point, and
this the means by which Maple White and his ill-fated
comrade had made their ascent.

We were too excited to return to the camp, but must

make our first exploration at once. Lord John had an electric
torch in his knapsack, and this had to serve us as light. He
advanced, throwing his little clear circlet of yellow radiance
before him, while in single file we followed at his heels.

The cave had evidently been water-worn, the sides being

smooth and the floor covered with rounded stones. It was of
such a size that a single man could just fit through by
stooping. For fifty yards it ran almost straight into the rock,
and then it ascended at an angle of forty-five. Presently this
incline became even steeper, and we found ourselves
climbing upon hands and knees among loose rubble which
slid from beneath us. Suddenly an exclamation broke from
Lord Roxton.

"It's blocked!" said he.

Clustering behind him we saw in the yellow field of light

a wall of broken basalt which extended to the ceiling.

"The roof has fallen in!"

In vain we dragged out some of the pieces. The only

effect was that the larger ones became detached and
threatened to roll down the gradient and crush us. It was
evident that the obstacle was far beyond any efforts which
we could make to remove it. The road by which Maple White
had ascended was no longer available.

Too much cast down to speak, we stumbled down the

dark tunnel and made our way back to the camp.

One incident occurred, however, before we left the

gorge, which is of importance in view of what came
afterwards.

We had gathered in a little group at the bottom of the

chasm, some forty feet beneath the mouth of the cave, when
a huge rock rolled suddenly downwards—and shot past us
with tremendous force. It was the narrowest escape for one
or all of us. We could not ourselves see whence the rock had
come, but our half-breed servants, who were still at the
opening of the cave, said that it had flown past them, and
must therefore have fallen from the summit. Looking
upwards, we could see no sign of movement above us amidst
the green jungle which topped the cliff. There could be little
doubt, however, that the stone was aimed at us, so the
incident surely pointed to humanity—and malevolent
humanity—upon the plateau.

We withdrew hurriedly from the chasm, our minds full of

this new development and its bearing upon our plans. The
situation was difficult enough before, but if the obstructions
of Nature were increased by the deliberate opposition of
man, then our case was indeed a hopeless one. And yet, as
we looked up at that beautiful fringe of verdure only a few
hundreds of feet above our heads, there was not one of us
who could conceive the idea of returning to London until we
had explored it to its depths.

On discussing the situation, we determined that our best

course was to continue to coast round the plateau in the
hope of finding some other means of reaching the top. The
line of cliffs, which had decreased considerably in height,
had already begun to trend from west to north, and if we
could take this as representing the arc of a circle, the whole
circumference could not be very great. At the worst, then, we
should be back in a few days at our starting-point.

We made a march that day which totaled some two-and-

twenty miles, without any change in our prospects. I may
mention that our aneroid shows us that in the continual
incline which we have ascended since we abandoned our
canoes we have risen to no less than three thousand feet
above sea-level. Hence there is a considerable change both in
the temperature and in the vegetation. We have shaken off
some of that horrible insect life which is the bane of tropical
travel. A few palms still survive, and many tree-ferns, but
the Amazonian trees have been all left behind. It was
pleasant to see the convolvulus, the passion-flower, and the
begonia, all reminding me of home, here among these
inhospitable rocks. There was a red begonia just the same
color as one that is kept in a pot in the window of a certain
villa in Streatham—but I am drifting into private
reminiscence.

That night—I am still speaking of the first day of our

circumnavigation of the plateau—a great experience awaited
us, and one which for ever set at rest any doubt which we
could have had as to the wonders so near us.

You will realize as you read it, my dear Mr. McArdle,

and possibly for the first time that the paper has not sent me
on a wild-goose chase, and that there is inconceivably fine
copy waiting for the world whenever we have the Professor's
leave to make use of it. I shall not dare to publish these
articles unless I can bring back my proofs to England, or I
shall be hailed as the journalistic Munchausen of all time. I
have no doubt that you feel the same way yourself, and that
you would not care to stake the whole credit of the Gazette
upon this adventure until we can meet the chorus of
criticism and scepticism which such articles must of
necessity elicit. So this wonderful incident, which would
make such a headline for the old paper, must still wait its
turn in the editorial drawer.

And yet it was all over in a flash, and there was no

sequel to it, save in our own convictions.

What occurred was this. Lord John had shot an ajouti—

which is a small, pig-like animal—and, half of it having been
given to the Indians, we were cooking the other half upon
our fire. There is a chill in the air after dark, and we had all
drawn close to the blaze. The night was moonless, but there
were some stars, and one could see for a little distance
across the plain. Well, suddenly out of the darkness, out of
the night, there swooped something with a swish like an
aeroplane. The whole group of us were covered for an instant
by a canopy of leathery wings, and I had a momentary vision
of a long, snake-like neck, a fierce, red, greedy eye, and a
great snapping beak, filled, to my amazement, with little,
gleaming teeth. The next instant it was gone—and so was our
dinner. A huge black shadow, twenty feet across, skimmed
up into the air; for an instant the monster wings blotted out
the stars, and then it vanished over the brow of the cliff
above us. We all sat in amazed silence round the fire, like the
heroes of Virgil when the Harpies came down upon them. It
was Summerlee who was the first to speak.

"Professor Challenger," said he, in a solemn voice, which

quavered with emotion, "I owe you an apology. Sir, I am very
much in the wrong, and I beg that you will forget what is
past."

It was handsomely said, and the two men for the first
time shook hands. So much we have gained by this clear
vision of our first pterodactyl. It was worth a stolen supper
to bring two such men together.

But if prehistoric life existed upon the plateau it was not

superabundant, for we had no further glimpse of it during
the next three days. During this time we traversed a barren
and forbidding country, which alternated between stony
desert and desolate marshes full of many wild-fowl, upon the
north and east of the cliffs. From that direction the place is
really inaccessible, and, were it not for a hardish ledge which
runs at the very base of the precipice, we should have had to
turn back. Many times we were up to our waists in the slime
and blubber of an old, semi-tropical swamp. To make
matters worse, the place seemed to be a favorite breeding-
place of the Jaracaca snake, the most venomous and
aggressive in South America. Again and again these horrible
creatures came writhing and springing towards us across the
surface of this putrid bog, and it was only by keeping our
shot-guns for ever ready that we could feel safe from them.
One funnel-shaped depression in the morass, of a livid green
in color from some lichen which festered in it, will always
remain as a nightmare memory in my mind. It seems to have
been a special nest of these vermins, and the slopes were
alive with them, all writhing in our direction, for it is a
peculiarity of the Jaracaca that he will always attack man at
first sight. There were too many for us to shoot, so we fairly
took to our heels and ran until we were exhausted. I shall
always remember as we looked back how far behind we
could see the heads and necks of our horrible pursuers rising
and falling amid the reeds. Jaracaca Swamp we named it in
the map which we are constructing.

The cliffs upon the farther side had lost their ruddy tint,
being chocolate-brown in color; the vegetation was more
scattered along the top of them, and they had sunk to three
or four hundred feet in height, but in no place did we find
any point where they could be ascended. If anything, they
were more impossible than at the first point where we had
met them. Their absolute steepness is indicated in the
photograph which I took over the stony desert.

"Surely," said I, as we discussed the situation, "the rain

must find its way down somehow. There are bound to be
water-channels in the rocks."

"Our young friend has glimpses of lucidity," said

Professor Challenger, patting me upon the shoulder.

"The rain must go somewhere," I repeated.

 "He keeps a firm grip upon actuality. The only drawback
is that we have conclusively proved by ocular demonstration
that there are no water channels down the rocks."

"Where, then, does it go?" I persisted.

"I think it may be fairly assumed that if it does not come

outwards it must run inwards."

"Then there is a lake in the center."

"So I should suppose."

"It is more than likely that the lake may be an old

crater," said Summerlee. "The whole formation is, of course,
highly volcanic. But, however that may be, I should expect to
find the surface of the plateau slope inwards with a
considerable sheet of water in the center, which may drain
off, by some subterranean channel, into the marshes of the
Jaracaca Swamp."

"Or evaporation might preserve an equilibrium,"

remarked Challenger, and the two learned men wandered off
into one of their usual scientific arguments, which were as
comprehensible as Chinese to the layman.

On the sixth day we completed our first circuit of the

cliffs, and found ourselves back at the first camp, beside the
isolated pinnacle of rock. We were a disconsolate party, for
nothing could have been more minute than our investigation,
and it was absolutely certain that there was no single point
where the most active human being could possibly hope to
scale the cliff. The place which Maple White's chalk-marks
had indicated as his own means of access was now entirely
impassable.

What were we to do now? Our stores of provisions,

supplemented by our guns, were holding out well, but the
day must come when they would need replenishment. In a
couple of months the rains might be expected, and we should
be washed out of our camp. The rock was harder than
marble, and any attempt at cutting a path for so great a
height was more than our time or resources would admit. No
wonder that we looked gloomily at each other that night, and
sought our blankets with hardly a word exchanged. I
remember that as I dropped off to sleep my last recollection
was that Challenger was squatting, like a monstrous bull-
frog, by the fire, his huge head in his hands, sunk apparently
in the deepest thought, and entirely oblivious to the good-
night which I wished him.

But it was a very different Challenger who greeted us in

the morning—a Challenger with contentment and self-
congratulation shining from his whole person. He faced us as
we assembled for breakfast with a deprecating false modesty
in his eyes, as who should say, "I know that I deserve all that
you can say, but I pray you to spare my blushes by not
saying it." His beard bristled exultantly, his chest was thrown
out, and his hand was thrust into the front of his jacket. So,
in his fancy, may he see himself sometimes, gracing the
vacant pedestal in Trafalgar Square, and adding one more to
the horrors of the London streets.

"Eureka!" he cried, his teeth shining through his beard.

"Gentlemen, you may congratulate me and we may
congratulate each other. The problem is solved."

"You have found a way up?"

"I venture to think so."

"And where?"

For answer he pointed to the spire-like pinnacle upon our

right.
 Our faces—or mine, at least—fell as we surveyed it. That
it could be climbed we had our companion's assurance. But a
horrible abyss lay between it and the plateau.

"We can never get across," I gasped.

"We can at least all reach the summit," said he. "When we
are up I may be able to show you that the resources of an
inventive mind are not yet exhausted."

After breakfast we unpacked the bundle in which our

leader had brought his climbing accessories. From it he took
a coil of the strongest and lightest rope, a hundred and fifty
feet in length, with climbing irons, clamps, and other
devices. Lord John was an experienced mountaineer, and
Summerlee had done some rough climbing at various times,
so that I was really the novice at rock-work of the party; but
my strength and activity may have made up for my want of
experience.

It was not in reality a very stiff task, though there were

moments which made my hair bristle upon my head. The
first half was perfectly easy, but from there upwards it
became continually steeper until, for the last fifty feet, we
were literally clinging with our fingers and toes to tiny ledges
and crevices in the rock. I could not have accomplished it,
nor could Summerlee, if Challenger had not gained the
summit (it was extraordinary to see such activity in so
unwieldy a creature) and there fixed the rope round the
trunk of the considerable tree which grew there. With this as
our support, we were soon able to scramble up the jagged
wall until we found ourselves upon the small grassy
platform, some twenty-five feet each way, which formed the
summit.

The first impression which I received when I had

recovered my breath was of the extraordinary view over the
country which we had traversed. The whole Brazilian plain
seemed to lie beneath us, extending away and away until it
ended in dim blue mists upon the farthest sky-line. In the
foreground was the long slope, strewn with rocks and dotted
with tree-ferns; farther off in the middle distance, looking
over the saddle-back hill, I could just see the yellow and
green mass of bamboos through which we had passed; and
then, gradually, the vegetation increased until it formed the
huge forest which extended as far as the eyes could reach,
and for a good two thousand miles beyond.

I was still drinking in this wonderful panorama when the

heavy hand of the Professor fell upon my shoulder.

"This way, my young friend," said he; "vestigia nulla

retrorsum. Never look rearwards, but always to our glorious
goal."

The level of the plateau, when I turned, was exactly that

on which we stood, and the green bank of bushes, with
occasional trees, was so near that it was difficult to realize
how inaccessible it remained. At a rough guess the gulf was
forty feet across, but, so far as I could see, it might as well
have been forty miles. I placed one arm round the trunk of
the tree and leaned over the abyss. Far down were the small
dark figures of our servants, looking up at us. The wall was
absolutely precipitous, as was that which faced me.

"This is indeed curious," said the creaking voice of

Professor Summerlee.

I turned, and found that he was examining with great

interest the tree to which I clung. That smooth bark and
those small, ribbed leaves seemed familiar to my eyes.
"Why," I cried, "it's a beech!"

"Exactly," said Summerlee. "A fellow-countryman in a far

land."
 "Not only a fellow-countryman, my good sir," said
Challenger, "but also, if I may be allowed to enlarge your
simile, an ally of the first value. This beech tree will be our
saviour."

"By George!" cried Lord John, "a bridge!"

"Exactly, my friends, a bridge! It is not for nothing that I

expended an hour last night in focusing my mind upon the
situation. I have some recollection of once remarking to our
young friend here that G. E. C. is at his best when his back
is to the wall. Last night you will admit that all our backs
were to the wall. But where will-power and intellect go
together, there is always a way out. A drawbridge had to be
found which could be dropped across the abyss. Behold it!"

It was certainly a brilliant idea. The tree was a good sixty

feet in height, and if it only fell the right way it would easily
cross the chasm. Challenger had slung the camp axe over his
shoulder when he ascended. Now he handed it to me.

"Our young friend has the thews and sinews," said he. "I
think he will be the most useful at this task. I must beg,
however, that you will kindly refrain from thinking for
yourself, and that you will do exactly what you are told."

Under his direction I cut such gashes in the sides of the

trees as would ensure that it should fall as we desired. It had
already a strong, natural tilt in the direction of the plateau,
so that the matter was not difficult. Finally I set to work in
earnest upon the trunk, taking turn and turn with Lord John.
In a little over an hour there was a loud crack, the tree
swayed forward, and then crashed over, burying its branches
among the bushes on the farther side. The severed trunk
rolled to the very edge of our platform, and for one terrible
second we all thought it was over. It balanced itself,
however, a few inches from the edge, and there was our
bridge to the unknown.

All of us, without a word, shook hands with Professor

Challenger, who raised his straw hat and bowed deeply to
each in turn.

"I claim the honor," said he, "to be the first to cross to
the unknown land—a fitting subject, no doubt, for some
future historical painting."

He had approached the bridge when Lord John laid his

hand upon his coat.

"My dear chap," said he, "I really cannot allow it."

"Cannot allow it, sir!" The head went back and the beard
forward.

"When it is a matter of science, don't you know, I follow

your lead because you are by way of bein' a man of science.
But it's up to you to follow me when you come into my
department."

"Your department, sir?"

"We all have our professions, and soldierin' is mine. We

are, accordin' to my ideas, invadin' a new country, which
may or may not be chock-full of enemies of sorts. To barge
blindly into it for want of a little common sense and patience
isn't my notion of management."

The remonstrance was too reasonable to be disregarded.

Challenger tossed his head and shrugged his heavy
shoulders.

"Well, sir, what do you propose?"

 "For all I know there may be a tribe of cannibals waitin'
for lunch-time among those very bushes," said Lord John,
looking across the bridge. "It's better to learn wisdom before
you get into a cookin'-pot; so we will content ourselves with
hopin' that there is no trouble waitin' for us, and at the same
time we will act as if there were. Malone and I will go down
again, therefore, and we will fetch up the four rifles, together
with Gomez and the other. One man can then go across and
the rest will cover him with guns, until he sees that it is safe
for the whole crowd to come along."

Challenger sat down upon the cut stump and groaned his
impatience; but Summerlee and I were of one mind that Lord
John was our leader when such practical details were in
question. The climb was a more simple thing now that the
rope dangled down the face of the worst part of the ascent.
Within an hour we had brought up the rifles and a shot-gun.
The half-breeds had ascended also, and under Lord John's
orders they had carried up a bale of provisions in case our
first exploration should be a long one. We had each
bandoliers of cartridges.

"Now, Challenger, if you really insist upon being the first

man in," said Lord John, when every preparation was
complete.

"I am much indebted to you for your gracious

permission," said the angry Professor; for never was a man so
intolerant of every form of authority. "Since you are good
enough to allow it, I shall most certainly take it upon myself
to act as pioneer upon this occasion."

Seating himself with a leg overhanging the abyss on each

side, and his hatchet slung upon his back, Challenger hopped
his way across the trunk and was soon at the other side. He
clambered up and waved his arms in the air.
 "At last!" he cried; "at last!"

I gazed anxiously at him, with a vague expectation that

some terrible fate would dart at him from the curtain of
green behind him. But all was quiet, save that a strange,
many-colored bird flew up from under his feet and vanished
among the trees.

Summerlee was the second. His wiry energy is wonderful

in so frail a frame. He insisted upon having two rifles slung
upon his back, so that both Professors were armed when he
had made his transit. I came next, and tried hard not to look
down into the horrible gulf over which I was passing.
Summerlee held out the butt-end of his rifle, and an instant
later I was able to grasp his hand. As to Lord John, he
walked across—actually walked without support! He must
have nerves of iron.

And there we were, the four of us, upon the dreamland,

the lost world, of Maple White. To all of us it seemed the
moment of our supreme triumph. Who could have guessed
that it was the prelude to our supreme disaster? Let me say
in a few words how the crushing blow fell upon us.

We had turned away from the edge, and had penetrated

about fifty yards of close brushwood, when there came a
frightful rending crash from behind us. With one impulse we
rushed back the way that we had come. The bridge was
gone!

Far down at the base of the cliff I saw, as I looked over,

a tangled mass of branches and splintered trunk. It was our
beech tree. Had the edge of the platform crumbled and let it
through? For a moment this explanation was in all our
minds. The next, from the farther side of the rocky pinnacle
before us a swarthy face, the face of Gomez the half-breed,
was slowly protruded. Yes, it was Gomez, but no longer the
Gomez of the demure smile and the mask-like expression.
Here was a face with flashing eyes and distorted features, a
face convulsed with hatred and with the mad joy of gratified
revenge.

"Lord Roxton!" he shouted. "Lord John Roxton!"

"Well," said our companion, "here I am."

A shriek of laughter came across the abyss.

"Yes, there you are, you English dog, and there you will
remain! I have waited and waited, and now has come my
chance. You found it hard to get up; you will find it harder
to get down. You cursed fools, you are trapped, every one of
you!"

We were too astounded to speak. We could only stand

there staring in amazement. A great broken bough upon the
grass showed whence he had gained his leverage to tilt over
our bridge. The face had vanished, but presently it was up
again, more frantic than before.

"We nearly killed you with a stone at the cave," he cried;

"but this is better. It is slower and more terrible. Your bones
will whiten up there, and none will know where you lie or
come to cover them. As you lie dying, think of Lopez, whom
you shot five years ago on the Putomayo River. I am his
brother, and, come what will I will die happy now, for his
memory has been avenged." A furious hand was shaken at
us, and then all was quiet.

Had the half-breed simply wrought his vengeance and

then escaped, all might have been well with him. It was that
foolish, irresistible Latin impulse to be dramatic which
brought his own downfall. Roxton, the man who had earned
himself the name of the Flail of the Lord through three
countries, was not one who could be safely taunted. The
half-breed was descending on the farther side of the
pinnacle; but before he could reach the ground Lord John
had run along the edge of the plateau and gained a point
from which he could see his man. There was a single crack of
his rifle, and, though we saw nothing, we heard the scream
and then the distant thud of the falling body. Roxton came
back to us with a face of granite.

"I have been a blind simpleton," said he, bitterly, "It's my

folly that has brought you all into this trouble. I should have
remembered that these people have long memories for blood-
feuds, and have been more upon my guard."

"What about the other one? It took two of them to lever

that tree over the edge."

"I could have shot him, but I let him go. He may have
had no part in it. Perhaps it would have been better if I had
killed him, for he must, as you say, have lent a hand."

Now that we had the clue to his action, each of us could

cast back and remember some sinister act upon the part of
the half-breed—his constant desire to know our plans, his
arrest outside our tent when he was over-hearing them, the
furtive looks of hatred which from time to time one or other
of us had surprised. We were still discussing it, endeavoring
to adjust our minds to these new conditions, when a singular
scene in the plain below arrested our attention.

A man in white clothes, who could only be the surviving

half-breed, was running as one does run when Death is the
pacemaker. Behind him, only a few yards in his rear,
bounded the huge ebony figure of Zambo, our devoted negro.
Even as we looked, he sprang upon the back of the fugitive
and flung his arms round his neck. They rolled on the
ground together. An instant afterwards Zambo rose, looked
at the prostrate man, and then, waving his hand joyously to
us, came running in our direction. The white figure lay
motionless in the middle of the great plain.

Our two traitors had been destroyed, but the mischief

that they had done lived after them. By no possible means
could we get back to the pinnacle. We had been natives of
the world; now we were natives of the plateau. The two
things were separate and apart. There was the plain which
led to the canoes. Yonder, beyond the violet, hazy horizon,
was the stream which led back to civilization. But the link
between was missing. No human ingenuity could suggest a
means of bridging the chasm which yawned between
ourselves and our past lives. One instant had altered the
whole conditions of our existence.

It was at such a moment that I learned the stuff of which

my three comrades were composed. They were grave, it is
true, and thoughtful, but of an invincible serenity. For the
moment we could only sit among the bushes in patience and
wait the coming of Zambo. Presently his honest black face
topped the rocks and his Herculean figure emerged upon the
top of the pinnacle.

"What I do now?" he cried. "You tell me and I do it."

It was a question which it was easier to ask than to

answer. One thing only was clear. He was our one trusty link
with the outside world. On no account must he leave us.

"No no!" he cried. "I not leave you. Whatever come, you
always find me here. But no able to keep Indians. Already
they say too much Curupuri live on this place, and they go
home. Now you leave them me no able to keep them."

It was a fact that our Indians had shown in many ways

of late that they were weary of their journey and anxious to
return. We realized that Zambo spoke the truth, and that it
would be impossible for him to keep them.
 "Make them wait till to-morrow, Zambo," I shouted;
"then I can send letter back by them."

"Very good, sarr! I promise they wait till to-morrow," said

the negro. "But what I do for you now?"

There was plenty for him to do, and admirably the

faithful fellow did it. First of all, under our directions, he
undid the rope from the tree-stump and threw one end of it
across to us. It was not thicker than a clothes-line, but it was
of great strength, and though we could not make a bridge of
it, we might well find it invaluable if we had any climbing to
do. He then fastened his end of the rope to the package of
supplies which had been carried up, and we were able to
drag it across. This gave us the means of life for at least a
week, even if we found nothing else. Finally he descended
and carried up two other packets of mixed goods—a box of
ammunition and a number of other things, all of which we
got across by throwing our rope to him and hauling it back.
It was evening when he at last climbed down, with a final
assurance that he would keep the Indians till next morning.

And so it is that I have spent nearly the whole of this our

first night upon the plateau writing up our experiences by
the light of a single candle-lantern.

We supped and camped at the very edge of the cliff,

quenching our thirst with two bottles of Apollinaris which
were in one of the cases. It is vital to us to find water, but I
think even Lord John himself had had adventures enough for
one day, and none of us felt inclined to make the first push
into the unknown. We forbore to light a fire or to make any
unnecessary sound.

To-morrow (or to-day, rather, for it is already dawn as I

write) we shall make our first venture into this strange land.
When I shall be able to write again—or if I ever shall write
again—I know not. Meanwhile, I can see that the Indians are
still in their place, and I am sure that the faithful Zambo will
be here presently to get my letter. I only trust that it will
come to hand.

P.S.—The more I think the more desperate does our

position seem. I see no possible hope of our return. If there
were a high tree near the edge of the plateau we might drop
a return bridge across, but there is none within fifty yards.
Our united strength could not carry a trunk which would
serve our purpose. The rope, of course, is far too short that
we could descend by it. No, our position is hopeless—
hopeless!

Ebd
E-BooksDirectory.com
 CHAPTER X
"The most Wonderful Things have Happened"
The most wonderful things have happened and are
continually happening to us. All the paper that I possess
consists of five old note-books and a lot of scraps, and I have
only the one stylographic pencil; but so long as I can move
my hand I will continue to set down our experiences and
impressions, for, since we are the only men of the whole
human race to see such things, it is of enormous importance
that I should record them whilst they are fresh in my
memory and before that fate which seems to be constantly
impending does actually overtake us. Whether Zambo can at
last take these letters to the river, or whether I shall myself
in some miraculous way carry them back with me, or, finally,
whether some daring explorer, coming upon our tracks with
the advantage, perhaps, of a perfected monoplane, should
find this bundle of manuscript, in any case I can see that
what I am writing is destined to immortality as a classic of
true adventure.

On the morning after our being trapped upon the plateau

by the villainous Gomez we began a new stage in our
experiences. The first incident in it was not such as to give
me a very favorable opinion of the place to which we had
wandered. As I roused myself from a short nap after day had
dawned, my eyes fell upon a most singular appearance upon
my own leg. My trouser had slipped up, exposing a few
inches of my skin above my sock. On this there rested a
large, purplish grape. Astonished at the sight, I leaned
forward to pick it off, when, to my horror, it burst between
my finger and thumb, squirting blood in every direction. My
cry of disgust had brought the two professors to my side.

"Most interesting," said Summerlee, bending over my

shin. "An enormous blood-tick, as yet, I believe,
unclassified."

"The first-fruits of our labors," said Challenger in his

booming, pedantic fashion. "We cannot do less than call it
Ixodes Maloni. The very small inconvenience of being bitten,
my young friend, cannot, I am sure, weigh with you as
against the glorious privilege of having your name inscribed
in the deathless roll of zoology. Unhappily you have crushed
this fine specimen at the moment of satiation."

"Filthy vermin!" I cried.

Professor Challenger raised his great eyebrows in protest,

and placed a soothing paw upon my shoulder.

"You should cultivate the scientific eye and the detached

scientific mind," said he. "To a man of philosophic
temperament like myself the blood-tick, with its lancet-like
proboscis and its distending stomach, is as beautiful a work
of Nature as the peacock or, for that matter, the aurora
borealis. It pains me to hear you speak of it in so
unappreciative a fashion. No doubt, with due diligence, we
can secure some other specimen."

"There can be no doubt of that," said Summerlee, grimly,

"for one has just disappeared behind your shirt-collar."

Challenger sprang into the air bellowing like a bull, and

tore frantically at his coat and shirt to get them off.
Summerlee and I laughed so that we could hardly help him.
At last we exposed that monstrous torso (fifty-four inches, by
the tailor's tape). His body was all matted with black hair,
out of which jungle we picked the wandering tick before it
had bitten him. But the bushes round were full of the
horrible pests, and it was clear that we must shift our camp.

But first of all it was necessary to make our

arrangements with the faithful negro, who appeared
presently on the pinnacle with a number of tins of cocoa and
biscuits, which he tossed over to us. Of the stores which
remained below he was ordered to retain as much as would
keep him for two months. The Indians were to have the
remainder as a reward for their services and as payment for
taking our letters back to the Amazon. Some hours later we
saw them in single file far out upon the plain, each with a
bundle on his head, making their way back along the path
we had come. Zambo occupied our little tent at the base of
the pinnacle, and there he remained, our one link with the
world below.

And now we had to decide upon our immediate

movements. We shifted our position from among the tick-
laden bushes until we came to a small clearing thickly
surrounded by trees upon all sides. There were some flat
slabs of rock in the center, with an excellent well close by,
and there we sat in cleanly comfort while we made our first
plans for the invasion of this new country. Birds were calling
among the foliage—especially one with a peculiar whooping
cry which was new to us—but beyond these sounds there
were no signs of life.

Our first care was to make some sort of list of our own
stores, so that we might know what we had to rely upon.
What with the things we had ourselves brought up and those
which Zambo had sent across on the rope, we were fairly
well supplied. Most important of all, in view of the dangers
which might surround us, we had our four rifles and one
thousand three hundred rounds, also a shot-gun, but not
more than a hundred and fifty medium pellet cartridges. In
the matter of provisions we had enough to last for several
weeks, with a sufficiency of tobacco and a few scientific
implements, including a large telescope and a good field-
glass. All these things we collected together in the clearing,
and as a first precaution, we cut down with our hatchet and
knives a number of thorny bushes, which we piled round in
a circle some fifteen yards in diameter. This was to be our
headquarters for the time—our place of refuge against
sudden danger and the guard-house for our stores. Fort
Challenger, we called it.

It was midday before we had made ourselves secure, but

the heat was not oppressive, and the general character of the
plateau, both in its temperature and in its vegetation, was
almost temperate. The beech, the oak, and even the birch
were to be found among the tangle of trees which girt us in.
One huge gingko tree, topping all the others, shot its great
limbs and maidenhair foliage over the fort which we had
constructed. In its shade we continued our discussion, while
Lord John, who had quickly taken command in the hour of
action, gave us his views.

"So long as neither man nor beast has seen or heard us,
we are safe," said he. "From the time they know we are here
our troubles begin. There are no signs that they have found
us out as yet. So our game surely is to lie low for a time and
spy out the land. We want to have a good look at our
neighbors before we get on visitin' terms."

"But we must advance," I ventured to remark.

"By all means, sonny my boy! We will advance. But with

common sense. We must never go so far that we can't get
back to our base. Above all, we must never, unless it is life
or death, fire off our guns."

"But YOU fired yesterday," said Summerlee.

 "Well, it couldn't be helped. However, the wind was
strong and blew outwards. It is not likely that the sound
could have traveled far into the plateau. By the way, what
shall we call this place? I suppose it is up to us to give it a
name?"

There were several suggestions, more or less happy, but

Challenger's was final.

"It can only have one name," said he. "It is called after
the pioneer who discovered it. It is Maple White Land."

Maple White Land it became, and so it is named in that

chart which has become my special task. So it will, I trust,
appear in the atlas of the future.

The peaceful penetration of Maple White Land was the

pressing subject before us. We had the evidence of our own
eyes that the place was inhabited by some unknown
creatures, and there was that of Maple White's sketch-book
to show that more dreadful and more dangerous monsters
might still appear. That there might also prove to be human
occupants and that they were of a malevolent character was
suggested by the skeleton impaled upon the bamboos, which
could not have got there had it not been dropped from
above. Our situation, stranded without possibility of escape
in such a land, was clearly full of danger, and our reasons
endorsed every measure of caution which Lord John's
experience could suggest. Yet it was surely impossible that
we should halt on the edge of this world of mystery when
our very souls were tingling with impatience to push forward
and to pluck the heart from it.

We therefore blocked the entrance to our zareba by

filling it up with several thorny bushes, and left our camp
with the stores entirely surrounded by this protecting hedge.
We then slowly and cautiously set forth into the unknown,
following the course of the little stream which flowed from
our spring, as it should always serve us as a guide on our
return.

Hardly had we started when we came across signs that

there were indeed wonders awaiting us. After a few hundred
yards of thick forest, containing many trees which were quite
unknown to me, but which Summerlee, who was the botanist
of the party, recognized as forms of conifera and of
cycadaceous plants which have long passed away in the
world below, we entered a region where the stream widened
out and formed a considerable bog. High reeds of a peculiar
type grew thickly before us, which were pronounced to be
equisetacea, or mare's-tails, with tree-ferns scattered amongst
them, all of them swaying in a brisk wind. Suddenly Lord
John, who was walking first, halted with uplifted hand.

"Look at this!" said he. "By George, this must be the trail
of the father of all birds!"

An enormous three-toed track was imprinted in the soft

mud before us. The creature, whatever it was, had crossed
the swamp and had passed on into the forest. We all stopped
to examine that monstrous spoor. If it were indeed a bird—
and what animal could leave such a mark?—its foot was so
much larger than an ostrich's that its height upon the same
scale must be enormous. Lord John looked eagerly round him
and slipped two cartridges into his elephant-gun.

"I'll stake my good name as a shikarree," said he, "that

the track is a fresh one. The creature has not passed ten
minutes. Look how the water is still oozing into that deeper
print! By Jove! See, here is the mark of a little one!"

Sure enough, smaller tracks of the same general form

were running parallel to the large ones.
 "But what do you make of this?" cried Professor
Summerlee, triumphantly, pointing to what looked like the
huge print of a five-fingered human hand appearing among
the three-toed marks.

"Wealden!" cried Challenger, in an ecstasy. "I've seen

them in the Wealden clay. It is a creature walking erect upon
three-toed feet, and occasionally putting one of its five-
fingered forepaws upon the ground. Not a bird, my dear
Roxton—not a bird."

"A beast?"

"No; a reptile—a dinosaur. Nothing else could have left

such a track. They puzzled a worthy Sussex doctor some
ninety years ago; but who in the world could have hoped—
hoped—to have seen a sight like that?"

His words died away into a whisper, and we all stood in

motionless amazement. Following the tracks, we had left the
morass and passed through a screen of brushwood and trees.
Beyond was an open glade, and in this were five of the most
extraordinary creatures that I have ever seen. Crouching
down among the bushes, we observed them at our leisure.

There were, as I say, five of them, two being adults and

three young ones. In size they were enormous. Even the
babies were as big as elephants, while the two large ones
were far beyond all creatures I have ever seen. They had
slate-colored skin, which was scaled like a lizard's and
shimmered where the sun shone upon it. All five were sitting
up, balancing themselves upon their broad, powerful tails
and their huge three-toed hind-feet, while with their small
five-fingered front-feet they pulled down the branches upon
which they browsed. I do not know that I can bring their
appearance home to you better than by saying that they
looked like monstrous kangaroos, twenty feet in length, and
with skins like black crocodiles.

I do not know how long we stayed motionless gazing at

this marvelous spectacle. A strong wind blew towards us and
we were well concealed, so there was no chance of discovery.
From time to time the little ones played round their parents
in unwieldy gambols, the great beasts bounding into the air
and falling with dull thuds upon the earth. The strength of
the parents seemed to be limitless, for one of them, having
some difficulty in reaching a bunch of foliage which grew
upon a considerable-sized tree, put his fore-legs round the
trunk and tore it down as if it had been a sapling. The action
seemed, as I thought, to show not only the great
development of its muscles, but also the small one of its
brain, for the whole weight came crashing down upon the
top of it, and it uttered a series of shrill yelps to show that,
big as it was, there was a limit to what it could endure. The
incident made it think, apparently, that the neighborhood
was dangerous, for it slowly lurched off through the wood,
followed by its mate and its three enormous infants. We saw
the shimmering slaty gleam of their skins between the tree-
trunks, and their heads undulating high above the brush-
wood. Then they vanished from our sight.

I looked at my comrades. Lord John was standing at gaze

with his finger on the trigger of his elephant-gun, his eager
hunter's soul shining from his fierce eyes. What would he not
give for one such head to place between the two crossed oars
above the mantelpiece in his snuggery at the Albany! And yet
his reason held him in, for all our exploration of the wonders
of this unknown land depended upon our presence being
concealed from its inhabitants. The two professors were in
silent ecstasy. In their excitement they had unconsciously
seized each other by the hand, and stood like two little
children in the presence of a marvel, Challenger's cheeks
bunched up into a seraphic smile, and Summerlee's sardonic
face softening for the moment into wonder and reverence.

"Nunc dimittis!" he cried at last. "What will they say in

England of this?"

"My dear Summerlee, I will tell you with great

confidence exactly what they will say in England," said
Challenger. "They will say that you are an infernal liar and a
scientific charlatan, exactly as you and others said of me."

"In the face of photographs?"

"Faked, Summerlee! Clumsily faked!"

"In the face of specimens?"

"Ah, there we may have them! Malone and his filthy

Fleet Street crew may be all yelping our praises yet. August
the twenty-eighth—the day we saw five live iguanodons in a
glade of Maple White Land. Put it down in your diary, my
young friend, and send it to your rag."

"And be ready to get the toe-end of the editorial boot in

return," said Lord John. "Things look a bit different from the
latitude of London, young fellah my lad. There's many a man
who never tells his adventures, for he can't hope to be
believed. Who's to blame them? For this will seem a bit of a
dream to ourselves in a month or two. WHAT did you say
they were?"

"Iguanodons," said Summerlee. "You'll find their

footmarks all over the Hastings sands, in Kent, and in
Sussex. The South of England was alive with them when
there was plenty of good lush green-stuff to keep them going.
Conditions have changed, and the beasts died. Here it seems
that the conditions have not changed, and the beasts have
lived."
 "If ever we get out of this alive, I must have a head with
me," said Lord John. "Lord, how some of that Somaliland-
Uganda crowd would turn a beautiful pea-green if they saw
it! I don't know what you chaps think, but it strikes me that
we are on mighty thin ice all this time."

I had the same feeling of mystery and danger around us.

In the gloom of the trees there seemed a constant menace
and as we looked up into their shadowy foliage vague terrors
crept into one's heart. It is true that these monstrous
creatures which we had seen were lumbering, inoffensive
brutes which were unlikely to hurt anyone, but in this world
of wonders what other survivals might there not be—what
fierce, active horrors ready to pounce upon us from their lair
among the rocks or brushwood? I knew little of prehistoric
life, but I had a clear remembrance of one book which I had
read in which it spoke of creatures who would live upon our
lions and tigers as a cat lives upon mice. What if these also
were to be found in the woods of Maple White Land!

It was destined that on this very morning—our first in

the new country—we were to find out what strange hazards
lay around us. It was a loathsome adventure, and one of
which I hate to think. If, as Lord John said, the glade of the
iguanodons will remain with us as a dream, then surely the
swamp of the pterodactyls will forever be our nightmare. Let
me set down exactly what occurred.

We passed very slowly through the woods, partly

because Lord Roxton acted as scout before he would let us
advance, and partly because at every second step one or
other of our professors would fall, with a cry of wonder,
before some flower or insect which presented him with a
new type. We may have traveled two or three miles in all,
keeping to the right of the line of the stream, when we came
upon a considerable opening in the trees. A belt of
brushwood led up to a tangle of rocks—the whole plateau
was strewn with boulders. We were walking slowly towards
these rocks, among bushes which reached over our waists,
when we became aware of a strange low gabbling and
whistling sound, which filled the air with a constant clamor
and appeared to come from some spot immediately before
us. Lord John held up his hand as a signal for us to stop, and
he made his way swiftly, stooping and running, to the line of
rocks. We saw him peep over them and give a gesture of
amazement. Then he stood staring as if forgetting us, so
utterly entranced was he by what he saw. Finally he waved
us to come on, holding up his hand as a signal for caution.
His whole bearing made me feel that something wonderful
but dangerous lay before us.

Creeping to his side, we looked over the rocks. The place

into which we gazed was a pit, and may, in the early days,
have been one of the smaller volcanic blow-holes of the
plateau. It was bowl-shaped and at the bottom, some
hundreds of yards from where we lay, were pools of green-
scummed, stagnant water, fringed with bullrushes. It was a
weird place in itself, but its occupants made it seem like a
scene from the Seven Circles of Dante. The place was a
rookery of pterodactyls. There were hundreds of them
congregated within view. All the bottom area round the
water-edge was alive with their young ones, and with
hideous mothers brooding upon their leathery, yellowish
eggs. From this crawling flapping mass of obscene reptilian
life came the shocking clamor which filled the air and the
mephitic, horrible, musty odor which turned us sick. But
above, perched each upon its own stone, tall, gray, and
withered, more like dead and dried specimens than actual
living creatures, sat the horrible males, absolutely motionless
save for the rolling of their red eyes or an occasional snap of
their rat-trap beaks as a dragon-fly went past them. Their
huge, membranous wings were closed by folding their fore-
arms, so that they sat like gigantic old women, wrapped in
hideous web-colored shawls, and with their ferocious heads
protruding above them. Large and small, not less than a
thousand of these filthy creatures lay in the hollow before us.

Our professors would gladly have stayed there all day, so

entranced were they by this opportunity of studying the life
of a prehistoric age. They pointed out the fish and dead birds
lying about among the rocks as proving the nature of the
food of these creatures, and I heard them congratulating each
other on having cleared up the point why the bones of this
flying dragon are found in such great numbers in certain
well-defined areas, as in the Cambridge Green-sand, since it
was now seen that, like penguins, they lived in gregarious
fashion.

Finally, however, Challenger, bent upon proving some

point which Summerlee had contested, thrust his head over
the rock and nearly brought destruction upon us all. In an
instant the nearest male gave a shrill, whistling cry, and
flapped its twenty-foot span of leathery wings as it soared up
into the air. The females and young ones huddled together
beside the water, while the whole circle of sentinels rose one
after the other and sailed off into the sky. It was a wonderful
sight to see at least a hundred creatures of such enormous
size and hideous appearance all swooping like swallows with
swift, shearing wing-strokes above us; but soon we realized
that it was not one on which we could afford to linger. At
first the great brutes flew round in a huge ring, as if to make
sure what the exact extent of the danger might be. Then, the
flight grew lower and the circle narrower, until they were
whizzing round and round us, the dry, rustling flap of their
huge slate-colored wings filling the air with a volume of
sound that made me think of Hendon aerodrome upon a race
day.

"Make for the wood and keep together," cried Lord John,
clubbing his rifle. "The brutes mean mischief."
 The moment we attempted to retreat the circle closed in
upon us, until the tips of the wings of those nearest to us
nearly touched our faces. We beat at them with the stocks of
our guns, but there was nothing solid or vulnerable to strike.
Then suddenly out of the whizzing, slate-colored circle a long
neck shot out, and a fierce beak made a thrust at us. Another
and another followed. Summerlee gave a cry and put his
hand to his face, from which the blood was streaming. I felt
a prod at the back of my neck, and turned dizzy with the
shock. Challenger fell, and as I stooped to pick him up I was
again struck from behind and dropped on the top of him. At
the same instant I heard the crash of Lord John's elephant-
gun, and, looking up, saw one of the creatures with a broken
wing struggling upon the ground, spitting and gurgling at us
with a wide-opened beak and blood-shot, goggled eyes, like
some devil in a medieval picture. Its comrades had flown
higher at the sudden sound, and were circling above our
heads.

"Now," cried Lord John, "now for our lives!"

We staggered through the brushwood, and even as we

reached the trees the harpies were on us again. Summerlee
was knocked down, but we tore him up and rushed among
the trunks. Once there we were safe, for those huge wings
had no space for their sweep beneath the branches. As we
limped homewards, sadly mauled and discomfited, we saw
them for a long time flying at a great height against the deep
blue sky above our heads, soaring round and round, no
bigger than wood-pigeons, with their eyes no doubt still
following our progress. At last, however, as we reached the
thicker woods they gave up the chase, and we saw them no
more.

"A most interesting and convincing experience," said

Challenger, as we halted beside the brook and he bathed a
swollen knee. "We are exceptionally well informed,
Summerlee, as to the habits of the enraged pterodactyl."

Summerlee was wiping the blood from a cut in his

forehead, while I was tying up a nasty stab in the muscle of
the neck. Lord John had the shoulder of his coat torn away,
but the creature's teeth had only grazed the flesh.

"It is worth noting," Challenger continued, "that our

young friend has received an undoubted stab, while Lord
John's coat could only have been torn by a bite. In my own
case, I was beaten about the head by their wings, so we have
had a remarkable exhibition of their various methods of
offence."

"It has been touch and go for our lives," said Lord John,
gravely, "and I could not think of a more rotten sort of death
than to be outed by such filthy vermin. I was sorry to fire my
rifle, but, by Jove! there was no great choice."

"We should not be here if you hadn't," said I, with

conviction.

"It may do no harm," said he. "Among these woods there

must be many loud cracks from splitting or falling trees
which would be just like the sound of a gun. But now, if you
are of my opinion, we have had thrills enough for one day,
and had best get back to the surgical box at the camp for
some carbolic. Who knows what venom these beasts may
have in their hideous jaws?"

But surely no men ever had just such a day since the
world began. Some fresh surprise was ever in store for us.
When, following the course of our brook, we at last reached
our glade and saw the thorny barricade of our camp, we
thought that our adventures were at an end. But we had
something more to think of before we could rest. The gate of
Fort Challenger had been untouched, the walls were
unbroken, and yet it had been visited by some strange and
powerful creature in our absence. No foot-mark showed a
trace of its nature, and only the overhanging branch of the
enormous ginko tree suggested how it might have come and
gone; but of its malevolent strength there was ample
evidence in the condition of our stores. They were strewn at
random all over the ground, and one tin of meat had been
crushed into pieces so as to extract the contents. A case of
cartridges had been shattered into matchwood, and one of
the brass shells lay shredded into pieces beside it. Again the
feeling of vague horror came upon our souls, and we gazed
round with frightened eyes at the dark shadows which lay
around us, in all of which some fearsome shape might be
lurking. How good it was when we were hailed by the voice
of Zambo, and, going to the edge of the plateau, saw him
sitting grinning at us upon the top of the opposite pinnacle.

"All well, Massa Challenger, all well!" he cried. "Me stay

here. No fear. You always find me when you want."

His honest black face, and the immense view before us,
which carried us half-way back to the affluent of the
Amazon, helped us to remember that we really were upon
this earth in the twentieth century, and had not by some
magic been conveyed to some raw planet in its earliest and
wildest state. How difficult it was to realize that the violet
line upon the far horizon was well advanced to that great
river upon which huge steamers ran, and folk talked of the
small affairs of life, while we, marooned among the creatures
of a bygone age, could but gaze towards it and yearn for all
that it meant!

One other memory remains with me of this wonderful

day, and with it I will close this letter. The two professors,
their tempers aggravated no doubt by their injuries, had
fallen out as to whether our assailants were of the genus
pterodactylus or dimorphodon, and high words had ensued.
To avoid their wrangling I moved some little way apart, and
was seated smoking upon the trunk of a fallen tree, when
Lord John strolled over in my direction.

"I say, Malone," said he, "do you remember that place
where those beasts were?"

"Very clearly."

"A sort of volcanic pit, was it not?"

"Exactly," said I.

"Did you notice the soil?"

"Rocks."

"But round the water—where the reeds were?"

"It was a bluish soil. It looked like clay."

"Exactly. A volcanic tube full of blue clay."

"What of that?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," said he, and strolled back to

where the voices of the contending men of science rose in a
prolonged duet, the high, strident note of Summerlee rising
and falling to the sonorous bass of Challenger. I should have
thought no more of Lord John's remark were it not that once
again that night I heard him mutter to himself: "Blue clay—
clay in a volcanic tube!" They were the last words I heard
before I dropped into an exhausted sleep.
 CHAPTER XI
"For once I was the Hero"
Lord John Roxton was right when he thought that some
specially toxic quality might lie in the bite of the horrible
creatures which had attacked us. On the morning after our
first adventure upon the plateau, both Summerlee and I were
in great pain and fever, while Challenger's knee was so
bruised that he could hardly limp. We kept to our camp all
day, therefore, Lord John busying himself, with such help as
we could give him, in raising the height and thickness of the
thorny walls which were our only defense. I remember that
during the whole long day I was haunted by the feeling that
we were closely observed, though by whom or whence I
could give no guess.

So strong was the impression that I told Professor

Challenger of it, who put it down to the cerebral excitement
caused by my fever. Again and again I glanced round swiftly,
with the conviction that I was about to see something, but
only to meet the dark tangle of our hedge or the solemn and
cavernous gloom of the great trees which arched above our
heads. And yet the feeling grew ever stronger in my own
mind that something observant and something malevolent
was at our very elbow. I thought of the Indian superstition of
the Curupuri—the dreadful, lurking spirit of the woods—and
I could have imagined that his terrible presence haunted
those who had invaded his most remote and sacred retreat.
 That night (our third in Maple White Land) we had an
experience which left a fearful impression upon our minds,
and made us thankful that Lord John had worked so hard in
making our retreat impregnable. We were all sleeping round
our dying fire when we were aroused—or, rather, I should
say, shot out of our slumbers—by a succession of the most
frightful cries and screams to which I have ever listened. I
know no sound to which I could compare this amazing
tumult, which seemed to come from some spot within a few
hundred yards of our camp. It was as ear-splitting as any
whistle of a railway-engine; but whereas the whistle is a
clear, mechanical, sharp-edged sound, this was far deeper in
volume and vibrant with the uttermost strain of agony and
horror. We clapped our hands to our ears to shut out that
nerve-shaking appeal. A cold sweat broke out over my body,
and my heart turned sick at the misery of it. All the woes of
tortured life, all its stupendous indictment of high heaven,
its innumerable sorrows, seemed to be centered and
condensed into that one dreadful, agonized cry. And then,
under this high-pitched, ringing sound there was another,
more intermittent, a low, deep-chested laugh, a growling,
throaty gurgle of merriment which formed a grotesque
accompaniment to the shriek with which it was blended. For
three or four minutes on end the fearsome duet continued,
while all the foliage rustled with the rising of startled birds.
Then it shut off as suddenly as it began. For a long time we
sat in horrified silence. Then Lord John threw a bundle of
twigs upon the fire, and their red glare lit up the intent faces
of my companions and flickered over the great boughs above
our heads.

"What was it?" I whispered.

"We shall know in the morning," said Lord John. "It was
close to us—not farther than the glade."
 "We have been privileged to overhear a prehistoric
tragedy, the sort of drama which occurred among the reeds
upon the border of some Jurassic lagoon, when the greater
dragon pinned the lesser among the slime," said Challenger,
with more solemnity than I had ever heard in his voice. "It
was surely well for man that he came late in the order of
creation. There were powers abroad in earlier days which no
courage and no mechanism of his could have met. What
could his sling, his throwing-stick, or his arrow avail him
against such forces as have been loose to-night? Even with a
modern rifle it would be all odds on the monster."

"I think I should back my little friend," said Lord John,

caressing his Express. "But the beast would certainly have a
good sporting chance."

Summerlee raised his hand.

"Hush!" he cried. "Surely I hear something?"

From the utter silence there emerged a deep, regular pat-

pat. It was the tread of some animal—the rhythm of soft but
heavy pads placed cautiously upon the ground. It stole
slowly round the camp, and then halted near our gateway.
There was a low, sibilant rise and fall—the breathing of the
creature. Only our feeble hedge separated us from this horror
of the night. Each of us had seized his rifle, and Lord John
had pulled out a small bush to make an embrasure in the
hedge.

"By George!" he whispered. "I think I can see it!"

I stooped and peered over his shoulder through the gap.

Yes, I could see it, too. In the deep shadow of the tree there
was a deeper shadow yet, black, inchoate, vague—a
crouching form full of savage vigor and menace. It was no
higher than a horse, but the dim outline suggested vast bulk
and strength. That hissing pant, as regular and full-volumed
as the exhaust of an engine, spoke of a monstrous organism.
Once, as it moved, I thought I saw the glint of two terrible,
greenish eyes. There was an uneasy rustling, as if it were
crawling slowly forward.

"I believe it is going to spring!" said I, cocking my rifle.

"Don't fire! Don't fire!" whispered Lord John. "The crash

of a gun in this silent night would be heard for miles. Keep it
as a last card."

"If it gets over the hedge we're done," said Summerlee,

and his voice crackled into a nervous laugh as he spoke.

"No, it must not get over," cried Lord John; "but hold
your fire to the last. Perhaps I can make something of the
fellow. I'll chance it, anyhow."

It was as brave an act as ever I saw a man do. He

stooped to the fire, picked up a blazing branch, and slipped
in an instant through a sallyport which he had made in our
gateway. The thing moved forward with a dreadful snarl.
Lord John never hesitated, but, running towards it with a
quick, light step, he dashed the flaming wood into the brute's
face. For one moment I had a vision of a horrible mask like a
giant toad's, of a warty, leprous skin, and of a loose mouth
all beslobbered with fresh blood. The next, there was a crash
in the underwood and our dreadful visitor was gone.

"I thought he wouldn't face the fire," said Lord John,

laughing, as he came back and threw his branch among the
faggots.

"You should not have taken such a risk!" we all cried.

"There was nothin' else to be done. If he had got among

us we should have shot each other in tryin' to down him. On
the other hand, if we had fired through the hedge and
wounded him he would soon have been on the top of us—to
say nothin' of giving ourselves away. On the whole, I think
that we are jolly well out of it. What was he, then?"

Our learned men looked at each other with some

hesitation.

"Personally, I am unable to classify the creature with any

certainty," said Summerlee, lighting his pipe from the fire.

"In refusing to commit yourself you are but showing a

proper scientific reserve," said Challenger, with massive
condescension. "I am not myself prepared to go farther than
to say in general terms that we have almost certainly been in
contact to-night with some form of carnivorous dinosaur. I
have already expressed my anticipation that something of the
sort might exist upon this plateau."

"We have to bear in mind," remarked Summerlee, "that

there are many prehistoric forms which have never come
down to us. It would be rash to suppose that we can give a
name to all that we are likely to meet."

"Exactly. A rough classification may be the best that we

can attempt. To-morrow some further evidence may help us
to an identification. Meantime we can only renew our
interrupted slumbers."

"But not without a sentinel," said Lord John, with

decision. "We can't afford to take chances in a country like
this. Two-hour spells in the future, for each of us."

"Then I'll just finish my pipe in starting the first one,"

said Professor Summerlee; and from that time onwards we
never trusted ourselves again without a watchman.

In the morning it was not long before we discovered the

source of the hideous uproar which had aroused us in the
night. The iguanodon glade was the scene of a horrible
butchery. From the pools of blood and the enormous lumps
of flesh scattered in every direction over the green sward we
imagined at first that a number of animals had been killed,
but on examining the remains more closely we discovered
that all this carnage came from one of these unwieldy
monsters, which had been literally torn to pieces by some
creature not larger, perhaps, but far more ferocious, than
itself.

Our two professors sat in absorbed argument, examining

piece after piece, which showed the marks of savage teeth
and of enormous claws.

"Our judgment must still be in abeyance," said Professor

Challenger, with a huge slab of whitish-colored flesh across
his knee. "The indications would be consistent with the
presence of a saber-toothed tiger, such as are still found
among the breccia of our caverns; but the creature actually
seen was undoubtedly of a larger and more reptilian
character. Personally, I should pronounce for allosaurus."

"Or megalosaurus," said Summerlee.

"Exactly. Any one of the larger carnivorous dinosaurs

would meet the case. Among them are to be found all the
most terrible types of animal life that have ever cursed the
earth or blessed a museum." He laughed sonorously at his
own conceit, for, though he had little sense of humor, the
crudest pleasantry from his own lips moved him always to
roars of appreciation.

"The less noise the better," said Lord Roxton, curtly. "We
don't know who or what may be near us. If this fellah comes
back for his breakfast and catches us here we won't have so
much to laugh at. By the way, what is this mark upon the
iguanodon's hide?"
 On the dull, scaly, slate-colored skin somewhere above
the shoulder, there was a singular black circle of some
substance which looked like asphalt. None of us could
suggest what it meant, though Summerlee was of opinion
that he had seen something similar upon one of the young
ones two days before. Challenger said nothing, but looked
pompous and puffy, as if he could if he would, so that finally
Lord John asked his opinion direct.

"If your lordship will graciously permit me to open my

mouth, I shall be happy to express my sentiments," said he,
with elaborate sarcasm. "I am not in the habit of being taken
to task in the fashion which seems to be customary with
your lordship. I was not aware that it was necessary to ask
your permission before smiling at a harmless pleasantry."

It was not until he had received his apology that our

touchy friend would suffer himself to be appeased. When at
last his ruffled feelings were at ease, he addressed us at some
length from his seat upon a fallen tree, speaking, as his habit
was, as if he were imparting most precious information to a
class of a thousand.

"With regard to the marking," said he, "I am inclined to

agree with my friend and colleague, Professor Summerlee,
that the stains are from asphalt. As this plateau is, in its very
nature, highly volcanic, and as asphalt is a substance which
one associates with Plutonic forces, I cannot doubt that it
exists in the free liquid state, and that the creatures may
have come in contact with it. A much more important
problem is the question as to the existence of the carnivorous
monster which has left its traces in this glade. We know
roughly that this plateau is not larger than an average
English county. Within this confined space a certain number
of creatures, mostly types which have passed away in the
world below, have lived together for innumerable years.
Now, it is very clear to me that in so long a period one
would have expected that the carnivorous creatures,
multiplying unchecked, would have exhausted their food
supply and have been compelled to either modify their flesh-
eating habits or die of hunger. This we see has not been so.
We can only imagine, therefore, that the balance of Nature is
preserved by some check which limits the numbers of these
ferocious creatures. One of the many interesting problems,
therefore, which await our solution is to discover what that
check may be and how it operates. I venture to trust that we
may have some future opportunity for the closer study of the
carnivorous dinosaurs."

"And I venture to trust we may not," I observed.

The Professor only raised his great eyebrows, as the

schoolmaster meets the irrelevant observation of the naughty
boy.

"Perhaps Professor Summerlee may have an observation

to make," he said, and the two savants ascended together
into some rarefied scientific atmosphere, where the
possibilities of a modification of the birth-rate were weighed
against the decline of the food supply as a check in the
struggle for existence.

That morning we mapped out a small portion of the

plateau, avoiding the swamp of the pterodactyls, and keeping
to the east of our brook instead of to the west. In that
direction the country was still thickly wooded, with so much
undergrowth that our progress was very slow.

I have dwelt up to now upon the terrors of Maple White

Land; but there was another side to the subject, for all that
morning we wandered among lovely flowers—mostly, as I
observed, white or yellow in color, these being, as our
professors explained, the primitive flower-shades. In many
places the ground was absolutely covered with them, and as
we walked ankle-deep on that wonderful yielding carpet, the
scent was almost intoxicating in its sweetness and intensity.
The homely English bee buzzed everywhere around us. Many
of the trees under which we passed had their branches
bowed down with fruit, some of which were of familiar sorts,
while other varieties were new. By observing which of them
were pecked by the birds we avoided all danger of poison
and added a delicious variety to our food reserve. In the
jungle which we traversed were numerous hard-trodden
paths made by the wild beasts, and in the more marshy
places we saw a profusion of strange footmarks, including
many of the iguanodon. Once in a grove we observed several
of these great creatures grazing, and Lord John, with his
glass, was able to report that they also were spotted with
asphalt, though in a different place to the one which we had
examined in the morning. What this phenomenon meant we
could not imagine.

We saw many small animals, such as porcupines, a scaly

ant-eater, and a wild pig, piebald in color and with long
curved tusks. Once, through a break in the trees, we saw a
clear shoulder of green hill some distance away, and across
this a large dun-colored animal was traveling at a
considerable pace. It passed so swiftly that we were unable
to say what it was; but if it were a deer, as was claimed by
Lord John, it must have been as large as those monstrous
Irish elk which are still dug up from time to time in the bogs
of my native land.

Ever since the mysterious visit which had been paid to

our camp we always returned to it with some misgivings.
However, on this occasion we found everything in order.

That evening we had a grand discussion upon our

present situation and future plans, which I must describe at
some length, as it led to a new departure by which we were
enabled to gain a more complete knowledge of Maple White
Land than might have come in many weeks of exploring. It
was Summerlee who opened the debate. All day he had been
querulous in manner, and now some remark of Lord John's as
to what we should do on the morrow brought all his
bitterness to a head.

"What we ought to be doing to-day, to-morrow, and all

the time," said he, "is finding some way out of the trap into
which we have fallen. You are all turning your brains
towards getting into this country. I say that we should be
scheming how to get out of it."

"I am surprised, sir," boomed Challenger, stroking his

majestic beard, "that any man of science should commit
himself to so ignoble a sentiment. You are in a land which
offers such an inducement to the ambitious naturalist as
none ever has since the world began, and you suggest leaving
it before we have acquired more than the most superficial
knowledge of it or of its contents. I expected better things of
you, Professor Summerlee."

"You must remember," said Summerlee, sourly, "that I

have a large class in London who are at present at the mercy
of an extremely inefficient locum tenens. This makes my
situation different from yours, Professor Challenger, since, so
far as I know, you have never been entrusted with any
responsible educational work."

"Quite so," said Challenger. "I have felt it to be a

sacrilege to divert a brain which is capable of the highest
original research to any lesser object. That is why I have
sternly set my face against any proffered scholastic
appointment."

"For example?" asked Summerlee, with a sneer; but Lord

John hastened to change the conversation.
 "I must say," said he, "that I think it would be a mighty
poor thing to go back to London before I know a great deal
more of this place than I do at present."

"I could never dare to walk into the back office of my

paper and face old McArdle," said I. (You will excuse the
frankness of this report, will you not, sir?) "He'd never
forgive me for leaving such unexhausted copy behind me.
Besides, so far as I can see it is not worth discussing, since
we can't get down, even if we wanted."

"Our young friend makes up for many obvious mental

lacunae by some measure of primitive common sense,"
remarked Challenger. "The interests of his deplorable
profession are immaterial to us; but, as he observes, we
cannot get down in any case, so it is a waste of energy to
discuss it."

"It is a waste of energy to do anything else," growled

Summerlee from behind his pipe. "Let me remind you that
we came here upon a perfectly definite mission, entrusted to
us at the meeting of the Zoological Institute in London. That
mission was to test the truth of Professor Challenger's
statements. Those statements, as I am bound to admit, we
are now in a position to endorse. Our ostensible work is
therefore done. As to the detail which remains to be worked
out upon this plateau, it is so enormous that only a large
expedition, with a very special equipment, could hope to
cope with it. Should we attempt to do so ourselves, the only
possible result must be that we shall never return with the
important contribution to science which we have already
gained. Professor Challenger has devised means for getting
us on to this plateau when it appeared to be inaccessible; I
think that we should now call upon him to use the same
ingenuity in getting us back to the world from which we
came."
 I confess that as Summerlee stated his view it struck me
as altogether reasonable. Even Challenger was affected by the
consideration that his enemies would never stand confuted if
the confirmation of his statements should never reach those
who had doubted them.

"The problem of the descent is at first sight a formidable

one," said he, "and yet I cannot doubt that the intellect can
solve it. I am prepared to agree with our colleague that a
protracted stay in Maple White Land is at present
inadvisable, and that the question of our return will soon
have to be faced. I absolutely refuse to leave, however, until
we have made at least a superficial examination of this
country, and are able to take back with us something in the
nature of a chart."

Professor Summerlee gave a snort of impatience.

"We have spent two long days in exploration," said he,

"and we are no wiser as to the actual geography of the place
than when we started. It is clear that it is all thickly wooded,
and it would take months to penetrate it and to learn the
relations of one part to another. If there were some central
peak it would be different, but it all slopes downwards, so
far as we can see. The farther we go the less likely it is that
we will get any general view."

It was at that moment that I had my inspiration. My

eyes chanced to light upon the enormous gnarled trunk of
the gingko tree which cast its huge branches over us. Surely,
if its bole exceeded that of all others, its height must do the
same. If the rim of the plateau was indeed the highest point,
then why should this mighty tree not prove to be a
watchtower which commanded the whole country? Now,
ever since I ran wild as a lad in Ireland I have been a bold
and skilled tree-climber. My comrades might be my masters
on the rocks, but I knew that I would be supreme among
those branches. Could I only get my legs on to the lowest of
the giant off-shoots, then it would be strange indeed if I
could not make my way to the top. My comrades were
delighted at my idea.

"Our young friend," said Challenger, bunching up the red

apples of his cheeks, "is capable of acrobatic exertions which
would be impossible to a man of a more solid, though
possibly of a more commanding, appearance. I applaud his
resolution."

"By George, young fellah, you've put your hand on it!"

said Lord John, clapping me on the back. "How we never
came to think of it before I can't imagine! There's not more
than an hour of daylight left, but if you take your notebook
you may be able to get some rough sketch of the place. If we
put these three ammunition cases under the branch, I will
soon hoist you on to it."

He stood on the boxes while I faced the trunk, and was

gently raising me when Challenger sprang forward and gave
me such a thrust with his huge hand that he fairly shot me
into the tree. With both arms clasping the branch, I
scrambled hard with my feet until I had worked, first my
body, and then my knees, onto it. There were three excellent
off-shoots, like huge rungs of a ladder, above my head, and a
tangle of convenient branches beyond, so that I clambered
onwards with such speed that I soon lost sight of the ground
and had nothing but foliage beneath me. Now and then I
encountered a check, and once I had to shin up a creeper for
eight or ten feet, but I made excellent progress, and the
booming of Challenger's voice seemed to be a great distance
beneath me. The tree was, however, enormous, and, looking
upwards, I could see no thinning of the leaves above my
head. There was some thick, bush-like clump which seemed
to be a parasite upon a branch up which I was swarming. I
leaned my head round it in order to see what was beyond,
and I nearly fell out of the tree in my surprise and horror at
what I saw.

A face was gazing into mine—at the distance of only a

foot or two. The creature that owned it had been crouching
behind the parasite, and had looked round it at the same
instant that I did. It was a human face—or at least it was far
more human than any monkey's that I have ever seen. It was
long, whitish, and blotched with pimples, the nose flattened,
and the lower jaw projecting, with a bristle of coarse
whiskers round the chin. The eyes, which were under thick
and heavy brows, were bestial and ferocious, and as it
opened its mouth to snarl what sounded like a curse at me I
observed that it had curved, sharp canine teeth. For an
instant I read hatred and menace in the evil eyes. Then, as
quick as a flash, came an expression of overpowering fear.
There was a crash of broken boughs as it dived wildly down
into the tangle of green. I caught a glimpse of a hairy body
like that of a reddish pig, and then it was gone amid a swirl
of leaves and branches.

"What's the matter?" shouted Roxton from below.

"Anything wrong with you?"

"Did you see it?" I cried, with my arms round the branch
and all my nerves tingling.

"We heard a row, as if your foot had slipped. What was

it?"

I was so shocked at the sudden and strange appearance

of this ape-man that I hesitated whether I should not climb
down again and tell my experience to my companions. But I
was already so far up the great tree that it seemed a
humiliation to return without having carried out my mission.

After a long pause, therefore, to recover my breath and

my courage, I continued my ascent. Once I put my weight
upon a rotten branch and swung for a few seconds by my
hands, but in the main it was all easy climbing. Gradually
the leaves thinned around me, and I was aware, from the
wind upon my face, that I had topped all the trees of the
forest. I was determined, however, not to look about me
before I had reached the very highest point, so I scrambled
on until I had got so far that the topmost branch was
bending beneath my weight. There I settled into a convenient
fork, and, balancing myself securely, I found myself looking
down at a most wonderful panorama of this strange country
in which we found ourselves.

The sun was just above the western sky-line, and the
evening was a particularly bright and clear one, so that the
whole extent of the plateau was visible beneath me. It was,
as seen from this height, of an oval contour, with a breadth
of about thirty miles and a width of twenty. Its general shape
was that of a shallow funnel, all the sides sloping down to a
considerable lake in the center. This lake may have been ten
miles in circumference, and lay very green and beautiful in
the evening light, with a thick fringe of reeds at its edges,
and with its surface broken by several yellow sandbanks,
which gleamed golden in the mellow sunshine. A number of
long dark objects, which were too large for alligators and too
long for canoes, lay upon the edges of these patches of sand.
With my glass I could clearly see that they were alive, but
what their nature might be I could not imagine.

From the side of the plateau on which we were, slopes of

woodland, with occasional glades, stretched down for five or
six miles to the central lake. I could see at my very feet the
glade of the iguanodons, and farther off was a round opening
in the trees which marked the swamp of the pterodactyls. On
the side facing me, however, the plateau presented a very
different aspect. There the basalt cliffs of the outside were
reproduced upon the inside, forming an escarpment about
two hundred feet high, with a woody slope beneath it. Along
the base of these red cliffs, some distance above the ground,
I could see a number of dark holes through the glass, which I
conjectured to be the mouths of caves. At the opening of one
of these something white was shimmering, but I was unable
to make out what it was. I sat charting the country until the
sun had set and it was so dark that I could no longer
distinguish details. Then I climbed down to my companions
waiting for me so eagerly at the bottom of the great tree. For
once I was the hero of the expedition. Alone I had thought of
it, and alone I had done it; and here was the chart which
would save us a month's blind groping among unknown
dangers. Each of them shook me solemnly by the hand.

But before they discussed the details of my map I had to

tell them of my encounter with the ape-man among the
branches.

"He has been there all the time," said I.

"How do you know that?" asked Lord John.

"Because I have never been without that feeling that

something malevolent was watching us. I mentioned it to
you, Professor Challenger."

"Our young friend certainly said something of the kind.

He is also the one among us who is endowed with that Celtic
temperament which would make him sensitive to such
impressions."

"The whole theory of telepathy——" began Summerlee,

filling his pipe.

"Is too vast to be now discussed," said Challenger, with

decision. "Tell me, now," he added, with the air of a bishop
addressing a Sunday-school, "did you happen to observe
whether the creature could cross its thumb over its palm?"
 "No, indeed."

"Had it a tail?"

"No."

"Was the foot prehensile?"

"I do not think it could have made off so fast among the
branches if it could not get a grip with its feet."

"In South America there are, if my memory serves me—

you will check the observation, Professor Summerlee—some
thirty-six species of monkeys, but the anthropoid ape is
unknown. It is clear, however, that he exists in this country,
and that he is not the hairy, gorilla-like variety, which is
never seen out of Africa or the East." (I was inclined to
interpolate, as I looked at him, that I had seen his first
cousin in Kensington.) "This is a whiskered and colorless
type, the latter characteristic pointing to the fact that he
spends his days in arboreal seclusion. The question which we
have to face is whether he approaches more closely to the
ape or the man. In the latter case, he may well approximate
to what the vulgar have called the 'missing link.' The solution
of this problem is our immediate duty."

"It is nothing of the sort," said Summerlee, abruptly.

"Now that, through the intelligence and activity of Mr.
Malone" (I cannot help quoting the words), "we have got our
chart, our one and only immediate duty is to get ourselves
safe and sound out of this awful place."

"The flesh-pots of civilization," groaned Challenger.

"The ink-pots of civilization, sir. It is our task to put on

record what we have seen, and to leave the further
exploration to others. You all agreed as much before Mr.
Malone got us the chart."
 "Well," said Challenger, "I admit that my mind will be
more at ease when I am assured that the result of our
expedition has been conveyed to our friends. How we are to
get down from this place I have not as yet an idea. I have
never yet encountered any problem, however, which my
inventive brain was unable to solve, and I promise you that
to-morrow I will turn my attention to the question of our
descent." And so the matter was allowed to rest.

But that evening, by the light of the fire and of a single

candle, the first map of the lost world was elaborated. Every
detail which I had roughly noted from my watch-tower was
drawn out in its relative place. Challenger's pencil hovered
over the great blank which marked the lake.

"What shall we call it?" he asked.

"Why should you not take the chance of perpetuating

your own name?" said Summerlee, with his usual touch of
acidity.

"I trust, sir, that my name will have other and more
personal claims upon posterity," said Challenger, severely.
"Any ignoramus can hand down his worthless memory by
imposing it upon a mountain or a river. I need no such
monument."

Summerlee, with a twisted smile, was about to make

some fresh assault when Lord John hastened to intervene.

"It's up to you, young fellah, to name the lake," said he.

"You saw it first, and, by George, if you choose to put 'Lake
Malone' on it, no one has a better right."

"By all means. Let our young friend give it a name," said
Challenger.
 "Then," said I, blushing, I dare say, as I said it, "let it be
named Lake Gladys."

"Don't you think the Central Lake would be more

descriptive?" remarked Summerlee.

"I should prefer Lake Gladys."

Challenger looked at me sympathetically, and shook his

great head in mock disapproval. "Boys will be boys," said he.
"Lake Gladys let it be."

Ebd
E-BooksDirectory.com
 CHAPTER XII
"It was Dreadful in the Forest"
I have said—or perhaps I have not said, for my memory
plays me sad tricks these days—that I glowed with pride
when three such men as my comrades thanked me for having
saved, or at least greatly helped, the situation. As the
youngster of the party, not merely in years, but in
experience, character, knowledge, and all that goes to make a
man, I had been overshadowed from the first. And now I
was coming into my own. I warmed at the thought. Alas! for
the pride which goes before a fall! That little glow of self-
satisfaction, that added measure of self-confidence, were to
lead me on that very night to the most dreadful experience of
my life, ending with a shock which turns my heart sick when
I think of it.

It came about in this way. I had been unduly excited by

the adventure of the tree, and sleep seemed to be impossible.
Summerlee was on guard, sitting hunched over our small
fire, a quaint, angular figure, his rifle across his knees and
his pointed, goat-like beard wagging with each weary nod of
his head. Lord John lay silent, wrapped in the South
American poncho which he wore, while Challenger snored
with a roll and rattle which reverberated through the woods.
The full moon was shining brightly, and the air was crisply
cold. What a night for a walk! And then suddenly came the
thought, "Why not?" Suppose I stole softly away, suppose I
made my way down to the central lake, suppose I was back
at breakfast with some record of the place—would I not in
that case be thought an even more worthy associate? Then, if
Summerlee carried the day and some means of escape were
found, we should return to London with first-hand
knowledge of the central mystery of the plateau, to which I
alone, of all men, would have penetrated. I thought of
Gladys, with her "There are heroisms all round us." I seemed
to hear her voice as she said it. I thought also of McArdle.
What a three column article for the paper! What a foundation
for a career! A correspondentship in the next great war might
be within my reach. I clutched at a gun—my pockets were
full of cartridges—and, parting the thorn bushes at the gate
of our zareba, quickly slipped out. My last glance showed me
the unconscious Summerlee, most futile of sentinels, still
nodding away like a queer mechanical toy in front of the
smouldering fire.

I had not gone a hundred yards before I deeply repented

my rashness. I may have said somewhere in this chronicle
that I am too imaginative to be a really courageous man, but
that I have an overpowering fear of seeming afraid. This was
the power which now carried me onwards. I simply could not
slink back with nothing done. Even if my comrades should
not have missed me, and should never know of my
weakness, there would still remain some intolerable self-
shame in my own soul. And yet I shuddered at the position
in which I found myself, and would have given all I
possessed at that moment to have been honorably free of the
whole business.

It was dreadful in the forest. The trees grew so thickly

and their foliage spread so widely that I could see nothing of
the moon-light save that here and there the high branches
made a tangled filigree against the starry sky. As the eyes
became more used to the obscurity one learned that there
were different degrees of darkness among the trees—that
some were dimly visible, while between and among them
there were coal-black shadowed patches, like the mouths of
caves, from which I shrank in horror as I passed. I thought
of the despairing yell of the tortured iguanodon—that
dreadful cry which had echoed through the woods. I thought,
too, of the glimpse I had in the light of Lord John's torch of
that bloated, warty, blood-slavering muzzle. Even now I was
on its hunting-ground. At any instant it might spring upon
me from the shadows—this nameless and horrible monster. I
stopped, and, picking a cartridge from my pocket, I opened
the breech of my gun. As I touched the lever my heart leaped
within me. It was the shot-gun, not the rifle, which I had
taken!

Again the impulse to return swept over me. Here, surely,

was a most excellent reason for my failure—one for which no
one would think the less of me. But again the foolish pride
fought against that very word. I could not—must not—fail.
After all, my rifle would probably have been as useless as a
shot-gun against such dangers as I might meet. If I were to
go back to camp to change my weapon I could hardly expect
to enter and to leave again without being seen. In that case
there would be explanations, and my attempt would no
longer be all my own. After a little hesitation, then, I
screwed up my courage and continued upon my way, my
useless gun under my arm.

The darkness of the forest had been alarming, but even

worse was the white, still flood of moonlight in the open
glade of the iguanodons. Hid among the bushes, I looked out
at it. None of the great brutes were in sight. Perhaps the
tragedy which had befallen one of them had driven them
from their feeding-ground. In the misty, silvery night I could
see no sign of any living thing. Taking courage, therefore, I
slipped rapidly across it, and among the jungle on the farther
side I picked up once again the brook which was my guide. It
was a cheery companion, gurgling and chuckling as it ran,
like the dear old trout-stream in the West Country where I
have fished at night in my boyhood. So long as I followed it
down I must come to the lake, and so long as I followed it
back I must come to the camp. Often I had to lose sight of it
on account of the tangled brush-wood, but I was always
within earshot of its tinkle and splash.

As one descended the slope the woods became thinner,

and bushes, with occasional high trees, took the place of the
forest. I could make good progress, therefore, and I could see
without being seen. I passed close to the pterodactyl swamp,
and as I did so, with a dry, crisp, leathery rattle of wings,
one of these great creatures—it was twenty feet at least from
tip to tip—rose up from somewhere near me and soared into
the air. As it passed across the face of the moon the light
shone clearly through the membranous wings, and it looked
like a flying skeleton against the white, tropical radiance. I
crouched low among the bushes, for I knew from past
experience that with a single cry the creature could bring a
hundred of its loathsome mates about my ears. It was not
until it had settled again that I dared to steal onwards upon
my journey.

The night had been exceedingly still, but as I advanced I

became conscious of a low, rumbling sound, a continuous
murmur, somewhere in front of me. This grew louder as I
proceeded, until at last it was clearly quite close to me.
When I stood still the sound was constant, so that it seemed
to come from some stationary cause. It was like a boiling
kettle or the bubbling of some great pot. Soon I came upon
the source of it, for in the center of a small clearing I found a
lake—or a pool, rather, for it was not larger than the basin of
the Trafalgar Square fountain—of some black, pitch-like
stuff, the surface of which rose and fell in great blisters of
bursting gas. The air above it was shimmering with heat, and
the ground round was so hot that I could hardly bear to lay
my hand on it. It was clear that the great volcanic outburst
which had raised this strange plateau so many years ago had
not yet entirely spent its forces. Blackened rocks and mounds
of lava I had already seen everywhere peeping out from amid
the luxuriant vegetation which draped them, but this asphalt
pool in the jungle was the first sign that we had of actual
existing activity on the slopes of the ancient crater. I had no
time to examine it further for I had need to hurry if I were to
be back in camp in the morning.

It was a fearsome walk, and one which will be with me

so long as memory holds. In the great moonlight clearings I
slunk along among the shadows on the margin. In the jungle
I crept forward, stopping with a beating heart whenever I
heard, as I often did, the crash of breaking branches as some
wild beast went past. Now and then great shadows loomed
up for an instant and were gone—great, silent shadows
which seemed to prowl upon padded feet. How often I
stopped with the intention of returning, and yet every time
my pride conquered my fear, and sent me on again until my
object should be attained.

At last (my watch showed that it was one in the

morning) I saw the gleam of water amid the openings of the
jungle, and ten minutes later I was among the reeds upon the
borders of the central lake. I was exceedingly dry, so I lay
down and took a long draught of its waters, which were
fresh and cold. There was a broad pathway with many tracks
upon it at the spot which I had found, so that it was clearly
one of the drinking-places of the animals. Close to the
water's edge there was a huge isolated block of lava. Up this
I climbed, and, lying on the top, I had an excellent view in
every direction.

The first thing which I saw filled me with amazement.

When I described the view from the summit of the great tree,
I said that on the farther cliff I could see a number of dark
spots, which appeared to be the mouths of caves. Now, as I
looked up at the same cliffs, I saw discs of light in every
direction, ruddy, clearly-defined patches, like the port-holes
of a liner in the darkness. For a moment I thought it was the
lava-glow from some volcanic action; but this could not be
so. Any volcanic action would surely be down in the hollow
and not high among the rocks. What, then, was the
alternative? It was wonderful, and yet it must surely be.
These ruddy spots must be the reflection of fires within the
caves—fires which could only be lit by the hand of man.
There were human beings, then, upon the plateau. How
gloriously my expedition was justified! Here was news indeed
for us to bear back with us to London!

For a long time I lay and watched these red, quivering

blotches of light. I suppose they were ten miles off from me,
yet even at that distance one could observe how, from time
to time, they twinkled or were obscured as someone passed
before them. What would I not have given to be able to crawl
up to them, to peep in, and to take back some word to my
comrades as to the appearance and character of the race who
lived in so strange a place! It was out of the question for the
moment, and yet surely we could not leave the plateau until
we had some definite knowledge upon the point.

Lake Gladys—my own lake—lay like a sheet of

quicksilver before me, with a reflected moon shining brightly
in the center of it. It was shallow, for in many places I saw
low sandbanks protruding above the water. Everywhere upon
the still surface I could see signs of life, sometimes mere
rings and ripples in the water, sometimes the gleam of a
great silver-sided fish in the air, sometimes the arched, slate-
colored back of some passing monster. Once upon a yellow
sandbank I saw a creature like a huge swan, with a clumsy
body and a high, flexible neck, shuffling about upon the
margin. Presently it plunged in, and for some time I could
see the arched neck and darting head undulating over the
water. Then it dived, and I saw it no more.

My attention was soon drawn away from these distant

sights and brought back to what was going on at my very
feet. Two creatures like large armadillos had come down to
the drinking-place, and were squatting at the edge of the
water, their long, flexible tongues like red ribbons shooting
in and out as they lapped. A huge deer, with branching
horns, a magnificent creature which carried itself like a king,
came down with its doe and two fawns and drank beside the
armadillos. No such deer exist anywhere else upon earth, for
the moose or elks which I have seen would hardly have
reached its shoulders. Presently it gave a warning snort, and
was off with its family among the reeds, while the armadillos
also scuttled for shelter. A new-comer, a most monstrous
animal, was coming down the path.

For a moment I wondered where I could have seen that

ungainly shape, that arched back with triangular fringes
along it, that strange bird-like head held close to the ground.
Then it came back, to me. It was the stegosaurus—the very
creature which Maple White had preserved in his sketch-
book, and which had been the first object which arrested the
attention of Challenger! There he was—perhaps the very
specimen which the American artist had encountered. The
ground shook beneath his tremendous weight, and his
gulpings of water resounded through the still night. For five
minutes he was so close to my rock that by stretching out my
hand I could have touched the hideous waving hackles upon
his back. Then he lumbered away and was lost among the
boulders.

Looking at my watch, I saw that it was half-past two

o'clock, and high time, therefore, that I started upon my
homeward journey. There was no difficulty about the
direction in which I should return for all along I had kept the
little brook upon my left, and it opened into the central lake
within a stone's-throw of the boulder upon which I had been
lying. I set off, therefore, in high spirits, for I felt that I had
done good work and was bringing back a fine budget of news
for my companions. Foremost of all, of course, were the sight
of the fiery caves and the certainty that some troglodytic race
inhabited them. But besides that I could speak from
experience of the central lake. I could testify that it was full
of strange creatures, and I had seen several land forms of
primeval life which we had not before encountered. I
reflected as I walked that few men in the world could have
spent a stranger night or added more to human knowledge in
the course of it.

I was plodding up the slope, turning these thoughts over

in my mind, and had reached a point which may have been
half-way to home, when my mind was brought back to my
own position by a strange noise behind me. It was something
between a snore and a growl, low, deep, and exceedingly
menacing. Some strange creature was evidently near me, but
nothing could be seen, so I hastened more rapidly upon my
way. I had traversed half a mile or so when suddenly the
sound was repeated, still behind me, but louder and more
menacing than before. My heart stood still within me as it
flashed across me that the beast, whatever it was, must
surely be after ME. My skin grew cold and my hair rose at
the thought. That these monsters should tear each other to
pieces was a part of the strange struggle for existence, but
that they should turn upon modern man, that they should
deliberately track and hunt down the predominant human,
was a staggering and fearsome thought. I remembered again
the blood-beslobbered face which we had seen in the glare of
Lord John's torch, like some horrible vision from the deepest
circle of Dante's hell. With my knees shaking beneath me, I
stood and glared with starting eyes down the moonlit path
which lay behind me. All was quiet as in a dream landscape.
Silver clearings and the black patches of the bushes—nothing
else could I see. Then from out of the silence, imminent and
threatening, there came once more that low, throaty
croaking, far louder and closer than before. There could no
longer be a doubt. Something was on my trail, and was
closing in upon me every minute.
 I stood like a man paralyzed, still staring at the ground
which I had traversed. Then suddenly I saw it. There was
movement among the bushes at the far end of the clearing
which I had just traversed. A great dark shadow disengaged
itself and hopped out into the clear moonlight. I say
"hopped" advisedly, for the beast moved like a kangaroo,
springing along in an erect position upon its powerful hind
legs, while its front ones were held bent in front of it. It was
of enormous size and power, like an erect elephant, but its
movements, in spite of its bulk, were exceedingly alert. For a
moment, as I saw its shape, I hoped that it was an
iguanodon, which I knew to be harmless, but, ignorant as I
was, I soon saw that this was a very different creature.
Instead of the gentle, deer-shaped head of the great three-
toed leaf-eater, this beast had a broad, squat, toad-like face
like that which had alarmed us in our camp. His ferocious
cry and the horrible energy of his pursuit both assured me
that this was surely one of the great flesh-eating dinosaurs,
the most terrible beasts which have ever walked this earth.
As the huge brute loped along it dropped forward upon its
fore-paws and brought its nose to the ground every twenty
yards or so. It was smelling out my trail. Sometimes, for an
instant, it was at fault. Then it would catch it up again and
come bounding swiftly along the path I had taken.

Even now when I think of that nightmare the sweat

breaks out upon my brow. What could I do? My useless
fowling-piece was in my hand. What help could I get from
that? I looked desperately round for some rock or tree, but I
was in a bushy jungle with nothing higher than a sapling
within sight, while I knew that the creature behind me could
tear down an ordinary tree as though it were a reed. My only
possible chance lay in flight. I could not move swiftly over
the rough, broken ground, but as I looked round me in
despair I saw a well-marked, hard-beaten path which ran
across in front of me. We had seen several of the sort, the
runs of various wild beasts, during our expeditions. Along
this I could perhaps hold my own, for I was a fast runner,
and in excellent condition. Flinging away my useless gun, I
set myself to do such a half-mile as I have never done before
or since. My limbs ached, my chest heaved, I felt that my
throat would burst for want of air, and yet with that horror
behind me I ran and I ran and ran. At last I paused, hardly
able to move. For a moment I thought that I had thrown him
off. The path lay still behind me. And then suddenly, with a
crashing and a rending, a thudding of giant feet and a
panting of monster lungs the beast was upon me once more.
He was at my very heels. I was lost.

Madman that I was to linger so long before I fled! Up to

then he had hunted by scent, and his movement was slow.
But he had actually seen me as I started to run. From then
onwards he had hunted by sight, for the path showed him
where I had gone. Now, as he came round the curve, he was
springing in great bounds. The moonlight shone upon his
huge projecting eyes, the row of enormous teeth in his open
mouth, and the gleaming fringe of claws upon his short,
powerful forearms. With a scream of terror I turned and
rushed wildly down the path. Behind me the thick, gasping
breathing of the creature sounded louder and louder. His
heavy footfall was beside me. Every instant I expected to feel
his grip upon my back. And then suddenly there came a
crash—I was falling through space, and everything beyond
was darkness and rest.

As I emerged from my unconsciousness—which could

not, I think, have lasted more than a few minutes—I was
aware of a most dreadful and penetrating smell. Putting out
my hand in the darkness I came upon something which felt
like a huge lump of meat, while my other hand closed upon a
large bone. Up above me there was a circle of starlit sky,
which showed me that I was lying at the bottom of a deep
pit. Slowly I staggered to my feet and felt myself all over. I
was stiff and sore from head to foot, but there was no limb
which would not move, no joint which would not bend. As
the circumstances of my fall came back into my confused
brain, I looked up in terror, expecting to see that dreadful
head silhouetted against the paling sky. There was no sign of
the monster, however, nor could I hear any sound from
above. I began to walk slowly round, therefore, feeling in
every direction to find out what this strange place could be
into which I had been so opportunely precipitated.

It was, as I have said, a pit, with sharply-sloping walls

and a level bottom about twenty feet across. This bottom
was littered with great gobbets of flesh, most of which was
in the last state of putridity. The atmosphere was poisonous
and horrible. After tripping and stumbling over these lumps
of decay, I came suddenly against something hard, and I
found that an upright post was firmly fixed in the center of
the hollow. It was so high that I could not reach the top of it
with my hand, and it appeared to be covered with grease.

Suddenly I remembered that I had a tin box of wax-

vestas in my pocket. Striking one of them, I was able at last
to form some opinion of this place into which I had fallen.
There could be no question as to its nature. It was a trap—
made by the hand of man. The post in the center, some nine
feet long, was sharpened at the upper end, and was black
with the stale blood of the creatures who had been impaled
upon it. The remains scattered about were fragments of the
victims, which had been cut away in order to clear the stake
for the next who might blunder in. I remembered that
Challenger had declared that man could not exist upon the
plateau, since with his feeble weapons he could not hold his
own against the monsters who roamed over it. But now it
was clear enough how it could be done. In their narrow-
mouthed caves the natives, whoever they might be, had
refuges into which the huge saurians could not penetrate,
while with their developed brains they were capable of
setting such traps, covered with branches, across the paths
which marked the run of the animals as would destroy them
in spite of all their strength and activity. Man was always
the master.

The sloping wall of the pit was not difficult for an active
man to climb, but I hesitated long before I trusted myself
within reach of the dreadful creature which had so nearly
destroyed me. How did I know that he was not lurking in the
nearest clump of bushes, waiting for my reappearance? I
took heart, however, as I recalled a conversation between
Challenger and Summerlee upon the habits of the great
saurians. Both were agreed that the monsters were
practically brainless, that there was no room for reason in
their tiny cranial cavities, and that if they have disappeared
from the rest of the world it was assuredly on account of
their own stupidity, which made it impossible for them to
adapt themselves to changing conditions.

To lie in wait for me now would mean that the creature

had appreciated what had happened to me, and this in turn
would argue some power connecting cause and effect. Surely
it was more likely that a brainless creature, acting solely by
vague predatory instinct, would give up the chase when I
disappeared, and, after a pause of astonishment, would
wander away in search of some other prey? I clambered to
the edge of the pit and looked over. The stars were fading,
the sky was whitening, and the cold wind of morning blew
pleasantly upon my face. I could see or hear nothing of my
enemy. Slowly I climbed out and sat for a while upon the
ground, ready to spring back into my refuge if any danger
should appear. Then, reassured by the absolute stillness and
by the growing light, I took my courage in both hands and
stole back along the path which I had come. Some distance
down it I picked up my gun, and shortly afterwards struck
the brook which was my guide. So, with many a frightened
backward glance, I made for home.
 And suddenly there came something to remind me of my
absent companions. In the clear, still morning air there
sounded far away the sharp, hard note of a single rifle-shot. I
paused and listened, but there was nothing more. For a
moment I was shocked at the thought that some sudden
danger might have befallen them. But then a simpler and
more natural explanation came to my mind. It was now
broad daylight. No doubt my absence had been noticed. They
had imagined, that I was lost in the woods, and had fired
this shot to guide me home. It is true that we had made a
strict resolution against firing, but if it seemed to them that I
might be in danger they would not hesitate. It was for me
now to hurry on as fast as possible, and so to reassure them.

I was weary and spent, so my progress was not so fast as

I wished; but at last I came into regions which I knew. There
was the swamp of the pterodactyls upon my left; there in
front of me was the glade of the iguanodons. Now I was in
the last belt of trees which separated me from Fort
Challenger. I raised my voice in a cheery shout to allay their
fears. No answering greeting came back to me. My heart
sank at that ominous stillness. I quickened my pace into a
run. The zareba rose before me, even as I had left it, but the
gate was open. I rushed in. In the cold, morning light it was
a fearful sight which met my eyes. Our effects were scattered
in wild confusion over the ground; my comrades had
disappeared, and close to the smouldering ashes of our fire
the grass was stained crimson with a hideous pool of blood.

I was so stunned by this sudden shock that for a time I

must have nearly lost my reason. I have a vague recollection,
as one remembers a bad dream, of rushing about through the
woods all round the empty camp, calling wildly for my
companions. No answer came back from the silent shadows.
The horrible thought that I might never see them again, that
I might find myself abandoned all alone in that dreadful
place, with no possible way of descending into the world
below, that I might live and die in that nightmare country,
drove me to desperation. I could have torn my hair and
beaten my head in my despair. Only now did I realize how I
had learned to lean upon my companions, upon the serene
self-confidence of Challenger, and upon the masterful,
humorous coolness of Lord John Roxton. Without them I was
like a child in the dark, helpless and powerless. I did not
know which way to turn or what I should do first.

After a period, during which I sat in bewilderment, I set

myself to try and discover what sudden misfortune could
have befallen my companions. The whole disordered
appearance of the camp showed that there had been some
sort of attack, and the rifle-shot no doubt marked the time
when it had occurred. That there should have been only one
shot showed that it had been all over in an instant. The rifles
still lay upon the ground, and one of them—Lord John's—
had the empty cartridge in the breech. The blankets of
Challenger and of Summerlee beside the fire suggested that
they had been asleep at the time. The cases of ammunition
and of food were scattered about in a wild litter, together
with our unfortunate cameras and plate-carriers, but none of
them were missing. On the other hand, all the exposed
provisions—and I remembered that there were a considerable
quantity of them—were gone. They were animals, then, and
not natives, who had made the inroad, for surely the latter
would have left nothing behind.

But if animals, or some single terrible animal, then what

had become of my comrades? A ferocious beast would surely
have destroyed them and left their remains. It is true that
there was that one hideous pool of blood, which told of
violence. Such a monster as had pursued me during the night
could have carried away a victim as easily as a cat would a
mouse. In that case the others would have followed in
pursuit. But then they would assuredly have taken their rifles
with them. The more I tried to think it out with my confused
and weary brain the less could I find any plausible
explanation. I searched round in the forest, but could see no
tracks which could help me to a conclusion. Once I lost
myself, and it was only by good luck, and after an hour of
wandering, that I found the camp once more.

Suddenly a thought came to me and brought some little

comfort to my heart. I was not absolutely alone in the world.
Down at the bottom of the cliff, and within call of me, was
waiting the faithful Zambo. I went to the edge of the plateau
and looked over. Sure enough, he was squatting among his
blankets beside his fire in his little camp. But, to my
amazement, a second man was seated in front of him. For an
instant my heart leaped for joy, as I thought that one of my
comrades had made his way safely down. But a second
glance dispelled the hope. The rising sun shone red upon the
man's skin. He was an Indian. I shouted loudly and waved
my handkerchief. Presently Zambo looked up, waved his
hand, and turned to ascend the pinnacle. In a short time he
was standing close to me and listening with deep distress to
the story which I told him.

"Devil got them for sure, Massa Malone," said he. "You
got into the devil's country, sah, and he take you all to
himself. You take advice, Massa Malone, and come down
quick, else he get you as well."

"How can I come down, Zambo?"

"You get creepers from trees, Massa Malone. Throw

them over here. I make fast to this stump, and so you have
bridge."

"We have thought of that. There are no creepers here

which could bear us."

"Send for ropes, Massa Malone."

 "Who can I send, and where?"

"Send to Indian villages, sah. Plenty hide rope in Indian

village. Indian down below; send him."

"Who is he?

"One of our Indians. Other ones beat him and take away
his pay. He come back to us. Ready now to take letter, bring
rope,—anything."

To take a letter! Why not? Perhaps he might bring help;

but in any case he would ensure that our lives were not
spent for nothing, and that news of all that we had won for
Science should reach our friends at home. I had two
completed letters already waiting. I would spend the day in
writing a third, which would bring my experiences absolutely
up to date. The Indian could bear this back to the world. I
ordered Zambo, therefore, to come again in the evening, and
I spent my miserable and lonely day in recording my own
adventures of the night before. I also drew up a note, to be
given to any white merchant or captain of a steam-boat
whom the Indian could find, imploring them to see that
ropes were sent to us, since our lives must depend upon it.
These documents I threw to Zambo in the evening, and also
my purse, which contained three English sovereigns. These
were to be given to the Indian, and he was promised twice as
much if he returned with the ropes.

So now you will understand, my dear Mr. McArdle, how

this communication reaches you, and you will also know the
truth, in case you never hear again from your unfortunate
correspondent. To-night I am too weary and too depressed to
make my plans. To-morrow I must think out some way by
which I shall keep in touch with this camp, and yet search
round for any traces of my unhappy friends.
 CHAPTER XIII
"A Sight which I shall Never Forget"
Just as the sun was setting upon that melancholy night I
saw the lonely figure of the Indian upon the vast plain
beneath me, and I watched him, our one faint hope of
salvation, until he disappeared in the rising mists of evening
which lay, rose-tinted from the setting sun, between the far-
off river and me.

It was quite dark when I at last turned back to our

stricken camp, and my last vision as I went was the red
gleam of Zambo's fire, the one point of light in the wide
world below, as was his faithful presence in my own
shadowed soul. And yet I felt happier than I had done since
this crushing blow had fallen upon me, for it was good to
think that the world should know what we had done, so that
at the worst our names should not perish with our bodies,
but should go down to posterity associated with the result of
our labors.

It was an awesome thing to sleep in that ill-fated camp;

and yet it was even more unnerving to do so in the jungle.
One or the other it must be. Prudence, on the one hand,
warned me that I should remain on guard, but exhausted
Nature, on the other, declared that I should do nothing of
the kind. I climbed up on to a limb of the great gingko tree,
but there was no secure perch on its rounded surface, and I
should certainly have fallen off and broken my neck the
moment I began to doze. I got down, therefore, and
pondered over what I should do. Finally, I closed the door of
the zareba, lit three separate fires in a triangle, and having
eaten a hearty supper dropped off into a profound sleep,
from which I had a strange and most welcome awakening. In
the early morning, just as day was breaking, a hand was laid
upon my arm, and starting up, with all my nerves in a tingle
and my hand feeling for a rifle, I gave a cry of joy as in the
cold gray light I saw Lord John Roxton kneeling beside me.

It was he—and yet it was not he. I had left him calm in
his bearing, correct in his person, prim in his dress. Now he
was pale and wild-eyed, gasping as he breathed like one who
has run far and fast. His gaunt face was scratched and
bloody, his clothes were hanging in rags, and his hat was
gone. I stared in amazement, but he gave me no chance for
questions. He was grabbing at our stores all the time he
spoke.

"Quick, young fellah! Quick!" he cried. "Every moment

counts. Get the rifles, both of them. I have the other two.
Now, all the cartridges you can gather. Fill up your pockets.
Now, some food. Half a dozen tins will do. That's all right!
Don't wait to talk or think. Get a move on, or we are done!"

Still half-awake, and unable to imagine what it all might

mean, I found myself hurrying madly after him through the
wood, a rifle under each arm and a pile of various stores in
my hands. He dodged in and out through the thickest of the
scrub until he came to a dense clump of brush-wood. Into
this he rushed, regardless of thorns, and threw himself into
the heart of it, pulling me down by his side.

"There!" he panted. "I think we are safe here. They'll

make for the camp as sure as fate. It will be their first idea.
But this should puzzle 'em."

"What is it all?" I asked, when I had got my breath.

"Where are the professors? And who is it that is after us?"
 "The ape-men," he cried. "My God, what brutes! Don't
raise your voice, for they have long ears—sharp eyes, too,
but no power of scent, so far as I could judge, so I don't
think they can sniff us out. Where have you been, young
fellah? You were well out of it."

In a few sentences I whispered what I had done.

"Pretty bad," said he, when he had heard of the dinosaur

and the pit. "It isn't quite the place for a rest cure. What? But
I had no idea what its possibilities were until those devils got
hold of us. The man-eatin' Papuans had me once, but they
are Chesterfields compared to this crowd."

"How did it happen?" I asked.

"It was in the early mornin'. Our learned friends were

just stirrin'. Hadn't even begun to argue yet. Suddenly it
rained apes. They came down as thick as apples out of a
tree. They had been assemblin' in the dark, I suppose, until
that great tree over our heads was heavy with them. I shot
one of them through the belly, but before we knew where we
were they had us spread-eagled on our backs. I call them
apes, but they carried sticks and stones in their hands and
jabbered talk to each other, and ended up by tyin' our hands
with creepers, so they are ahead of any beast that I have
seen in my wanderin's. Ape-men—that's what they are—
Missin' Links, and I wish they had stayed missin'. They
carried off their wounded comrade—he was bleedin' like a
pig—and then they sat around us, and if ever I saw frozen
murder it was in their faces. They were big fellows, as big as
a man and a deal stronger. Curious glassy gray eyes they
have, under red tufts, and they just sat and gloated and
gloated. Challenger is no chicken, but even he was cowed.
He managed to struggle to his feet, and yelled out at them to
have done with it and get it over. I think he had gone a bit
off his head at the suddenness of it, for he raged and cursed
at them like a lunatic. If they had been a row of his favorite
Pressmen he could not have slanged them worse."

"Well, what did they do?" I was enthralled by the strange

story which my companion was whispering into my ear,
while all the time his keen eyes were shooting in every
direction and his hand grasping his cocked rifle.

"I thought it was the end of us, but instead of that it

started them on a new line. They all jabbered and chattered
together. Then one of them stood out beside Challenger.
You'll smile, young fellah, but 'pon my word they might have
been kinsmen. I couldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it
with my own eyes. This old ape-man—he was their chief—
was a sort of red Challenger, with every one of our friend's
beauty points, only just a trifle more so. He had the short
body, the big shoulders, the round chest, no neck, a great
ruddy frill of a beard, the tufted eyebrows, the 'What do you
want, damn you!' look about the eyes, and the whole
catalogue. When the ape-man stood by Challenger and put
his paw on his shoulder, the thing was complete. Summerlee
was a bit hysterical, and he laughed till he cried. The ape-
men laughed too—or at least they put up the devil of a
cacklin'—and they set to work to drag us off through the
forest. They wouldn't touch the guns and things—thought
them dangerous, I expect—but they carried away all our
loose food. Summerlee and I got some rough handlin' on the
way—there's my skin and my clothes to prove it—for they
took us a bee-line through the brambles, and their own hides
are like leather. But Challenger was all right. Four of them
carried him shoulder high, and he went like a Roman
emperor. What's that?"

It was a strange clicking noise in the distance not unlike

castanets.
 "There they go!" said my companion, slipping cartridges
into the second double barrelled "Express." "Load them all
up, young fellah my lad, for we're not going to be taken
alive, and don't you think it! That's the row they make when
they are excited. By George! they'll have something to excite
them if they put us up. The 'Last Stand of the Grays' won't
be in it. 'With their rifles grasped in their stiffened hands,
mid a ring of the dead and dyin',' as some fathead sings. Can
you hear them now?"

"Very far away."

"That little lot will do no good, but I expect their search

parties are all over the wood. Well, I was telling you my tale
of woe. They got us soon to this town of theirs—about a
thousand huts of branches and leaves in a great grove of
trees near the edge of the cliff. It's three or four miles from
here. The filthy beasts fingered me all over, and I feel as if I
should never be clean again. They tied us up—the fellow
who handled me could tie like a bosun—and there we lay
with our toes up, beneath a tree, while a great brute stood
guard over us with a club in his hand. When I say 'we' I
mean Summerlee and myself. Old Challenger was up a tree,
eatin' pines and havin' the time of his life. I'm bound to say
that he managed to get some fruit to us, and with his own
hands he loosened our bonds. If you'd seen him sitting up in
that tree hob-nobbin' with his twin brother—and singin' in
that rollin' bass of his, 'Ring out, wild bells,' cause music of
any kind seemed to put 'em in a good humor, you'd have
smiled; but we weren't in much mood for laughin', as you
can guess. They were inclined, within limits, to let him do
what he liked, but they drew the line pretty sharply at us. It
was a mighty consolation to us all to know that you were
runnin' loose and had the archives in your keepin'.

"Well, now, young fellah, I'll tell you what will surprise
you. You say you saw signs of men, and fires, traps, and the
like. Well, we have seen the natives themselves. Poor devils
they were, down-faced little chaps, and had enough to make
them so. It seems that the humans hold one side of this
plateau—over yonder, where you saw the caves—and the
ape-men hold this side, and there is bloody war between
them all the time. That's the situation, so far as I could
follow it. Well, yesterday the ape-men got hold of a dozen of
the humans and brought them in as prisoners. You never
heard such a jabberin' and shriekin' in your life. The men
were little red fellows, and had been bitten and clawed so
that they could hardly walk. The ape-men put two of them to
death there and then—fairly pulled the arm off one of
them—it was perfectly beastly. Plucky little chaps they are,
and hardly gave a squeak. But it turned us absolutely sick.
Summerlee fainted, and even Challenger had as much as he
could stand. I think they have cleared, don't you?"

We listened intently, but nothing save the calling of the

birds broke the deep peace of the forest. Lord Roxton went
on with his story.

"I think you have had the escape of your life, young
fellah my lad. It was catchin' those Indians that put you
clean out of their heads, else they would have been back to
the camp for you as sure as fate and gathered you in. Of
course, as you said, they have been watchin' us from the
beginnin' out of that tree, and they knew perfectly well that
we were one short. However, they could think only of this
new haul; so it was I, and not a bunch of apes, that dropped
in on you in the morning. Well, we had a horrid business
afterwards. My God! what a nightmare the whole thing is!
You remember the great bristle of sharp canes down below
where we found the skeleton of the American? Well, that is
just under ape-town, and that's the jumpin'-off place of their
prisoners. I expect there's heaps of skeletons there, if we
looked for 'em. They have a sort of clear parade-ground on
the top, and they make a proper ceremony about it. One by
one the poor devils have to jump, and the game is to see
whether they are merely dashed to pieces or whether they
get skewered on the canes. They took us out to see it, and
the whole tribe lined up on the edge. Four of the Indians
jumped, and the canes went through 'em like knittin' needles
through a pat of butter. No wonder we found that poor
Yankee's skeleton with the canes growin' between his ribs. It
was horrible—but it was doocedly interestin' too. We were all
fascinated to see them take the dive, even when we thought
it would be our turn next on the spring-board.

"Well, it wasn't. They kept six of the Indians up for to-

day—that's how I understood it—but I fancy we were to be
the star performers in the show. Challenger might get off,
but Summerlee and I were in the bill. Their language is more
than half signs, and it was not hard to follow them. So I
thought it was time we made a break for it. I had been
plottin' it out a bit, and had one or two things clear in my
mind. It was all on me, for Summerlee was useless and
Challenger not much better. The only time they got together
they got slangin' because they couldn't agree upon the
scientific classification of these red-headed devils that had
got hold of us. One said it was the dryopithecus of Java, the
other said it was pithecanthropus. Madness, I call it—
Loonies, both. But, as I say, I had thought out one or two
points that were helpful. One was that these brutes could not
run as fast as a man in the open. They have short, bandy
legs, you see, and heavy bodies. Even Challenger could give a
few yards in a hundred to the best of them, and you or I
would be a perfect Shrubb. Another point was that they
knew nothin' about guns. I don't believe they ever
understood how the fellow I shot came by his hurt. If we
could get at our guns there was no sayin' what we could do.

"So I broke away early this mornin', gave my guard a

kick in the tummy that laid him out, and sprinted for the
camp. There I got you and the guns, and here we are."
 "But the professors!" I cried, in consternation.

"Well, we must just go back and fetch 'em. I couldn't

bring 'em with me. Challenger was up the tree, and
Summerlee was not fit for the effort. The only chance was to
get the guns and try a rescue. Of course they may scupper
them at once in revenge. I don't think they would touch
Challenger, but I wouldn't answer for Summerlee. But they
would have had him in any case. Of that I am certain. So I
haven't made matters any worse by boltin'. But we are honor
bound to go back and have them out or see it through with
them. So you can make up your soul, young fellah my lad,
for it will be one way or the other before evenin'."

I have tried to imitate here Lord Roxton's jerky talk, his

short, strong sentences, the half-humorous, half-reckless tone
that ran through it all. But he was a born leader. As danger
thickened his jaunty manner would increase, his speech
become more racy, his cold eyes glitter into ardent life, and
his Don Quixote moustache bristle with joyous excitement.
His love of danger, his intense appreciation of the drama of
an adventure—all the more intense for being held tightly in—
his consistent view that every peril in life is a form of sport,
a fierce game betwixt you and Fate, with Death as a forfeit,
made him a wonderful companion at such hours. If it were
not for our fears as to the fate of our companions, it would
have been a positive joy to throw myself with such a man
into such an affair. We were rising from our brushwood
hiding-place when suddenly I felt his grip upon my arm.

"By George!" he whispered, "here they come!"

From where we lay we could look down a brown aisle,

arched with green, formed by the trunks and branches.
Along this a party of the ape-men were passing. They went in
single file, with bent legs and rounded backs, their hands
occasionally touching the ground, their heads turning to left
and right as they trotted along. Their crouching gait took
away from their height, but I should put them at five feet or
so, with long arms and enormous chests. Many of them
carried sticks, and at the distance they looked like a line of
very hairy and deformed human beings. For a moment I
caught this clear glimpse of them. Then they were lost among
the bushes.

"Not this time," said Lord John, who had caught up his
rifle. "Our best chance is to lie quiet until they have given up
the search. Then we shall see whether we can't get back to
their town and hit 'em where it hurts most. Give 'em an hour
and we'll march."

We filled in the time by opening one of our food tins and

making sure of our breakfast. Lord Roxton had had nothing
but some fruit since the morning before and ate like a
starving man. Then, at last, our pockets bulging with
cartridges and a rifle in each hand, we started off upon our
mission of rescue. Before leaving it we carefully marked our
little hiding-place among the brush-wood and its bearing to
Fort Challenger, that we might find it again if we needed it.
We slunk through the bushes in silence until we came to the
very edge of the cliff, close to the old camp. There we halted,
and Lord John gave me some idea of his plans.

"So long as we are among the thick trees these swine are
our masters," said he. "They can see us and we cannot see
them. But in the open it is different. There we can move
faster than they. So we must stick to the open all we can.
The edge of the plateau has fewer large trees than further
inland. So that's our line of advance. Go slowly, keep your
eyes open and your rifle ready. Above all, never let them get
you prisoner while there is a cartridge left—that's my last
word to you, young fellah."
 When we reached the edge of the cliff I looked over and
saw our good old black Zambo sitting smoking on a rock
below us. I would have given a great deal to have hailed him
and told him how we were placed, but it was too dangerous,
lest we should be heard. The woods seemed to be full of the
ape-men; again and again we heard their curious clicking
chatter. At such times we plunged into the nearest clump of
bushes and lay still until the sound had passed away. Our
advance, therefore, was very slow, and two hours at least
must have passed before I saw by Lord John's cautious
movements that we must be close to our destination. He
motioned to me to lie still, and he crawled forward himself.
In a minute he was back again, his face quivering with
eagerness.

"Come!" said he. "Come quick! I hope to the Lord we are

not too late already!"

I found myself shaking with nervous excitement as I

scrambled forward and lay down beside him, looking out
through the bushes at a clearing which stretched before us.

It was a sight which I shall never forget until my dying

day—so weird, so impossible, that I do not know how I am
to make you realize it, or how in a few years I shall bring
myself to believe in it if I live to sit once more on a lounge in
the Savage Club and look out on the drab solidity of the
Embankment. I know that it will seem then to be some wild
nightmare, some delirium of fever. Yet I will set it down
now, while it is still fresh in my memory, and one at least,
the man who lay in the damp grasses by my side, will know
if I have lied.

A wide, open space lay before us—some hundreds of

yards across—all green turf and low bracken growing to the
very edge of the cliff. Round this clearing there was a semi-
circle of trees with curious huts built of foliage piled one
above the other among the branches. A rookery, with every
nest a little house, would best convey the idea. The openings
of these huts and the branches of the trees were thronged
with a dense mob of ape-people, whom from their size I took
to be the females and infants of the tribe. They formed the
background of the picture, and were all looking out with
eager interest at the same scene which fascinated and
bewildered us.

In the open, and near the edge of the cliff, there had
assembled a crowd of some hundred of these shaggy, red-
haired creatures, many of them of immense size, and all of
them horrible to look upon. There was a certain discipline
among them, for none of them attempted to break the line
which had been formed. In front there stood a small group of
Indians—little, clean-limbed, red fellows, whose skins
glowed like polished bronze in the strong sunlight. A tall,
thin white man was standing beside them, his head bowed,
his arms folded, his whole attitude expressive of his horror
and dejection. There was no mistaking the angular form of
Professor Summerlee.

In front of and around this dejected group of prisoners

were several ape-men, who watched them closely and made
all escape impossible. Then, right out from all the others and
close to the edge of the cliff, were two figures, so strange,
and under other circumstances so ludicrous, that they
absorbed my attention. The one was our comrade, Professor
Challenger. The remains of his coat still hung in strips from
his shoulders, but his shirt had been all torn out, and his
great beard merged itself in the black tangle which covered
his mighty chest. He had lost his hat, and his hair, which
had grown long in our wanderings, was flying in wild
disorder. A single day seemed to have changed him from the
highest product of modern civilization to the most desperate
savage in South America. Beside him stood his master, the
king of the ape-men. In all things he was, as Lord John had
said, the very image of our Professor, save that his coloring
was red instead of black. The same short, broad figure, the
same heavy shoulders, the same forward hang of the arms,
the same bristling beard merging itself in the hairy chest.
Only above the eyebrows, where the sloping forehead and
low, curved skull of the ape-man were in sharp contrast to
the broad brow and magnificent cranium of the European,
could one see any marked difference. At every other point
the king was an absurd parody of the Professor.

All this, which takes me so long to describe, impressed

itself upon me in a few seconds. Then we had very different
things to think of, for an active drama was in progress. Two
of the ape-men had seized one of the Indians out of the
group and dragged him forward to the edge of the cliff. The
king raised his hand as a signal. They caught the man by his
leg and arm, and swung him three times backwards and
forwards with tremendous violence. Then, with a frightful
heave they shot the poor wretch over the precipice. With
such force did they throw him that he curved high in the air
before beginning to drop. As he vanished from sight, the
whole assembly, except the guards, rushed forward to the
edge of the precipice, and there was a long pause of absolute
silence, broken by a mad yell of delight. They sprang about,
tossing their long, hairy arms in the air and howling with
exultation. Then they fell back from the edge, formed
themselves again into line, and waited for the next victim.

This time it was Summerlee. Two of his guards caught

him by the wrists and pulled him brutally to the front. His
thin figure and long limbs struggled and fluttered like a
chicken being dragged from a coop. Challenger had turned to
the king and waved his hands frantically before him. He was
begging, pleading, imploring for his comrade's life. The ape-
man pushed him roughly aside and shook his head. It was
the last conscious movement he was to make upon earth.
Lord John's rifle cracked, and the king sank down, a tangled
red sprawling thing, upon the ground.

"Shoot into the thick of them! Shoot! sonny, shoot!" cried

my companion.

There are strange red depths in the soul of the most

commonplace man. I am tenderhearted by nature, and have
found my eyes moist many a time over the scream of a
wounded hare. Yet the blood lust was on me now. I found
myself on my feet emptying one magazine, then the other,
clicking open the breech to re-load, snapping it to again,
while cheering and yelling with pure ferocity and joy of
slaughter as I did so. With our four guns the two of us made
a horrible havoc. Both the guards who held Summerlee were
down, and he was staggering about like a drunken man in
his amazement, unable to realize that he was a free man. The
dense mob of ape-men ran about in bewilderment, marveling
whence this storm of death was coming or what it might
mean. They waved, gesticulated, screamed, and tripped up
over those who had fallen. Then, with a sudden impulse,
they all rushed in a howling crowd to the trees for shelter,
leaving the ground behind them spotted with their stricken
comrades. The prisoners were left for the moment standing
alone in the middle of the clearing.

Challenger's quick brain had grasped the situation. He

seized the bewildered Summerlee by the arm, and they both
ran towards us. Two of their guards bounded after them and
fell to two bullets from Lord John. We ran forward into the
open to meet our friends, and pressed a loaded rifle into the
hands of each. But Summerlee was at the end of his strength.
He could hardly totter. Already the ape-men were recovering
from their panic. They were coming through the brushwood
and threatening to cut us off. Challenger and I ran
Summerlee along, one at each of his elbows, while Lord John
covered our retreat, firing again and again as savage heads
snarled at us out of the bushes. For a mile or more the
chattering brutes were at our very heels. Then the pursuit
slackened, for they learned our power and would no longer
face that unerring rifle. When we had at last reached the
camp, we looked back and found ourselves alone.

So it seemed to us; and yet we were mistaken. We had

hardly closed the thornbush door of our zareba, clasped each
other's hands, and thrown ourselves panting upon the ground
beside our spring, when we heard a patter of feet and then a
gentle, plaintive crying from outside our entrance. Lord
Roxton rushed forward, rifle in hand, and threw it open.
There, prostrate upon their faces, lay the little red figures of
the four surviving Indians, trembling with fear of us and yet
imploring our protection. With an expressive sweep of his
hands one of them pointed to the woods around them, and
indicated that they were full of danger. Then, darting
forward, he threw his arms round Lord John's legs, and
rested his face upon them.

"By George!" cried our peer, pulling at his moustache in

great perplexity, "I say—what the deuce are we to do with
these people? Get up, little chappie, and take your face off
my boots."

Summerlee was sitting up and stuffing some tobacco into

his old briar.

"We've got to see them safe," said he. "You've pulled us

all out of the jaws of death. My word! it was a good bit of
work!"

"Admirable!" cried Challenger. "Admirable! Not only we

as individuals, but European science collectively, owe you a
deep debt of gratitude for what you have done. I do not
hesitate to say that the disappearance of Professor
Summerlee and myself would have left an appreciable gap in
modern zoological history. Our young friend here and you
have done most excellently well."

He beamed at us with the old paternal smile, but

European science would have been somewhat amazed could
they have seen their chosen child, the hope of the future,
with his tangled, unkempt head, his bare chest, and his
tattered clothes. He had one of the meat-tins between his
knees, and sat with a large piece of cold Australian mutton
between his fingers. The Indian looked up at him, and then,
with a little yelp, cringed to the ground and clung to Lord
John's leg.

"Don't you be scared, my bonnie boy," said Lord John,

patting the matted head in front of him. "He can't stick your
appearance, Challenger; and, by George! I don't wonder. All
right, little chap, he's only a human, just the same as the rest
of us."

"Really, sir!" cried the Professor.

"Well, it's lucky for you, Challenger, that you ARE a little
out of the ordinary. If you hadn't been so like the king——"

"Upon my word, Lord John, you allow yourself great

latitude."

"Well, it's a fact."

"I beg, sir, that you will change the subject. Your
remarks are irrelevant and unintelligible. The question before
us is what are we to do with these Indians? The obvious
thing is to escort them home, if we knew where their home
was."

"There is no difficulty about that," said I. "They live in

the caves on the other side of the central lake."
 "Our young friend here knows where they live. I gather
that it is some distance."

"A good twenty miles," said I.

Summerlee gave a groan.

"I, for one, could never get there. Surely I hear those
brutes still howling upon our track."

As he spoke, from the dark recesses of the woods we

heard far away the jabbering cry of the ape-men. The Indians
once more set up a feeble wail of fear.

"We must move, and move quick!" said Lord John. "You
help Summerlee, young fellah. These Indians will carry
stores. Now, then, come along before they can see us."

In less than half-an-hour we had reached our brushwood

retreat and concealed ourselves. All day we heard the excited
calling of the ape-men in the direction of our old camp, but
none of them came our way, and the tired fugitives, red and
white, had a long, deep sleep. I was dozing myself in the
evening when someone plucked my sleeve, and I found
Challenger kneeling beside me.

"You keep a diary of these events, and you expect

eventually to publish it, Mr. Malone," said he, with
solemnity.

"I am only here as a Press reporter," I answered.

"Exactly. You may have heard some rather fatuous

remarks of Lord John Roxton's which seemed to imply that
there was some—some resemblance——"

"Yes, I heard them."

 "I need not say that any publicity given to such an idea—
any levity in your narrative of what occurred—would be
exceedingly offensive to me."

"I will keep well within the truth."

"Lord John's observations are frequently exceedingly

fanciful, and he is capable of attributing the most absurd
reasons to the respect which is always shown by the most
undeveloped races to dignity and character. You follow my
meaning?"

"Entirely."

"I leave the matter to your discretion." Then, after a long

pause, he added: "The king of the ape-men was really a
creature of great distinction—a most remarkably handsome
and intelligent personality. Did it not strike you?"

"A most remarkable creature," said I.

And the Professor, much eased in his mind, settled down

to his slumber once more.

Ebd
E-BooksDirectory.com
 CHAPTER XIV
"Those Were the Real Conquests"
We had imagined that our pursuers, the ape-men, knew
nothing of our brush-wood hiding-place, but we were soon to
find out our mistake. There was no sound in the woods—not
a leaf moved upon the trees, and all was peace around us—
but we should have been warned by our first experience how
cunningly and how patiently these creatures can watch and
wait until their chance comes. Whatever fate may be mine
through life, I am very sure that I shall never be nearer death
than I was that morning. But I will tell you the thing in its
due order.

We all awoke exhausted after the terrific emotions and

scanty food of yesterday. Summerlee was still so weak that it
was an effort for him to stand; but the old man was full of a
sort of surly courage which would never admit defeat. A
council was held, and it was agreed that we should wait
quietly for an hour or two where we were, have our much-
needed breakfast, and then make our way across the plateau
and round the central lake to the caves where my
observations had shown that the Indians lived. We relied
upon the fact that we could count upon the good word of
those whom we had rescued to ensure a warm welcome from
their fellows. Then, with our mission accomplished and
possessing a fuller knowledge of the secrets of Maple White
Land, we should turn our whole thoughts to the vital
problem of our escape and return. Even Challenger was
ready to admit that we should then have done all for which
we had come, and that our first duty from that time onwards
was to carry back to civilization the amazing discoveries we
had made.

We were able now to take a more leisurely view of the

Indians whom we had rescued. They were small men, wiry,
active, and well-built, with lank black hair tied up in a bunch
behind their heads with a leathern thong, and leathern also
were their loin-clothes. Their faces were hairless, well
formed, and good-humored. The lobes of their ears, hanging
ragged and bloody, showed that they had been pierced for
some ornaments which their captors had torn out. Their
speech, though unintelligible to us, was fluent among
themselves, and as they pointed to each other and uttered
the word "Accala" many times over, we gathered that this
was the name of the nation. Occasionally, with faces which
were convulsed with fear and hatred, they shook their
clenched hands at the woods round and cried: "Doda! Doda!"
which was surely their term for their enemies.

"What do you make of them, Challenger?" asked Lord

John. "One thing is very clear to me, and that is that the little
chap with the front of his head shaved is a chief among
them."

It was indeed evident that this man stood apart from the
others, and that they never ventured to address him without
every sign of deep respect. He seemed to be the youngest of
them all, and yet, so proud and high was his spirit that,
upon Challenger laying his great hand upon his head, he
started like a spurred horse and, with a quick flash of his
dark eyes, moved further away from the Professor. Then,
placing his hand upon his breast and holding himself with
great dignity, he uttered the word "Maretas" several times.
The Professor, unabashed, seized the nearest Indian by the
shoulder and proceeded to lecture upon him as if he were a
potted specimen in a class-room.
 "The type of these people," said he in his sonorous
fashion, "whether judged by cranial capacity, facial angle, or
any other test, cannot be regarded as a low one; on the
contrary, we must place it as considerably higher in the scale
than many South American tribes which I can mention. On
no possible supposition can we explain the evolution of such
a race in this place. For that matter, so great a gap separates
these ape-men from the primitive animals which have
survived upon this plateau, that it is inadmissible to think
that they could have developed where we find them."

"Then where the dooce did they drop from?" asked Lord
John.

"A question which will, no doubt, be eagerly discussed in

every scientific society in Europe and America," the Professor
answered. "My own reading of the situation for what it is
worth—" he inflated his chest enormously and looked
insolently around him at the words—"is that evolution has
advanced under the peculiar conditions of this country up to
the vertebrate stage, the old types surviving and living on in
company with the newer ones. Thus we find such modern
creatures as the tapir—an animal with quite a respectable
length of pedigree—the great deer, and the ant-eater in the
companionship of reptilian forms of jurassic type. So much is
clear. And now come the ape-men and the Indian. What is
the scientific mind to think of their presence? I can only
account for it by an invasion from outside. It is probable that
there existed an anthropoid ape in South America, who in
past ages found his way to this place, and that he developed
into the creatures we have seen, some of which"—here he
looked hard at me—"were of an appearance and shape
which, if it had been accompanied by corresponding
intelligence, would, I do not hesitate to say, have reflected
credit upon any living race. As to the Indians I cannot doubt
that they are more recent immigrants from below. Under the
stress of famine or of conquest they have made their way up
here. Faced by ferocious creatures which they had never
before seen, they took refuge in the caves which our young
friend has described, but they have no doubt had a bitter
fight to hold their own against wild beasts, and especially
against the ape-men who would regard them as intruders,
and wage a merciless war upon them with a cunning which
the larger beasts would lack. Hence the fact that their
numbers appear to be limited. Well, gentlemen, have I read
you the riddle aright, or is there any point which you would
query?"

Professor Summerlee for once was too depressed to

argue, though he shook his head violently as a token of
general disagreement. Lord John merely scratched his scanty
locks with the remark that he couldn't put up a fight as he
wasn't in the same weight or class. For my own part I
performed my usual role of bringing things down to a strictly
prosaic and practical level by the remark that one of the
Indians was missing.

"He has gone to fetch some water," said Lord Roxton.

"We fitted him up with an empty beef tin and he is off."

"To the old camp?" I asked.

"No, to the brook. It's among the trees there. It can't be

more than a couple of hundred yards. But the beggar is
certainly taking his time."

"I'll go and look after him," said I. I picked up my rifle

and strolled in the direction of the brook, leaving my friends
to lay out the scanty breakfast. It may seem to you rash that
even for so short a distance I should quit the shelter of our
friendly thicket, but you will remember that we were many
miles from Ape-town, that so far as we knew the creatures
had not discovered our retreat, and that in any case with a
rifle in my hands I had no fear of them. I had not yet learned
their cunning or their strength.

I could hear the murmur of our brook somewhere ahead

of me, but there was a tangle of trees and brushwood
between me and it. I was making my way through this at a
point which was just out of sight of my companions, when,
under one of the trees, I noticed something red huddled
among the bushes. As I approached it, I was shocked to see
that it was the dead body of the missing Indian. He lay upon
his side, his limbs drawn up, and his head screwed round at
a most unnatural angle, so that he seemed to be looking
straight over his own shoulder. I gave a cry to warn my
friends that something was amiss, and running forwards I
stooped over the body. Surely my guardian angel was very
near me then, for some instinct of fear, or it may have been
some faint rustle of leaves, made me glance upwards. Out of
the thick green foliage which hung low over my head, two
long muscular arms covered with reddish hair were slowly
descending. Another instant and the great stealthy hands
would have been round my throat. I sprang backwards, but
quick as I was, those hands were quicker still. Through my
sudden spring they missed a fatal grip, but one of them
caught the back of my neck and the other one my face. I
threw my hands up to protect my throat, and the next
moment the huge paw had slid down my face and closed
over them. I was lifted lightly from the ground, and I felt an
intolerable pressure forcing my head back and back until the
strain upon the cervical spine was more than I could bear.
My senses swam, but I still tore at the hand and forced it out
from my chin. Looking up I saw a frightful face with cold
inexorable light blue eyes looking down into mine. There was
something hypnotic in those terrible eyes. I could struggle no
longer. As the creature felt me grow limp in his grasp, two
white canines gleamed for a moment at each side of the vile
mouth, and the grip tightened still more upon my chin,
forcing it always upwards and back. A thin, oval-tinted mist
formed before my eyes and little silvery bells tinkled in my
ears. Dully and far off I heard the crack of a rifle and was
feebly aware of the shock as I was dropped to the earth,
where I lay without sense or motion.

I awoke to find myself on my back upon the grass in our

lair within the thicket. Someone had brought the water from
the brook, and Lord John was sprinkling my head with it,
while Challenger and Summerlee were propping me up, with
concern in their faces. For a moment I had a glimpse of the
human spirits behind their scientific masks. It was really
shock, rather than any injury, which had prostrated me, and
in half-an-hour, in spite of aching head and stiff neck, I was
sitting up and ready for anything.

"But you've had the escape of your life, young fellah my

lad," said Lord Roxton. "When I heard your cry and ran
forward, and saw your head twisted half-off and your
stohwassers kickin' in the air, I thought we were one short. I
missed the beast in my flurry, but he dropped you all right
and was off like a streak. By George! I wish I had fifty men
with rifles. I'd clear out the whole infernal gang of them and
leave this country a bit cleaner than we found it."

It was clear now that the ape-men had in some way

marked us down, and that we were watched on every side.
We had not so much to fear from them during the day, but
they would be very likely to rush us by night; so the sooner
we got away from their neighborhood the better. On three
sides of us was absolute forest, and there we might find
ourselves in an ambush. But on the fourth side—that which
sloped down in the direction of the lake—there was only low
scrub, with scattered trees and occasional open glades. It
was, in fact, the route which I had myself taken in my
solitary journey, and it led us straight for the Indian caves.
This then must for every reason be our road.
 One great regret we had, and that was to leave our old
camp behind us, not only for the sake of the stores which
remained there, but even more because we were losing touch
with Zambo, our link with the outside world. However, we
had a fair supply of cartridges and all our guns, so, for a
time at least, we could look after ourselves, and we hoped
soon to have a chance of returning and restoring our
communications with our negro. He had faithfully promised
to stay where he was, and we had not a doubt that he would
be as good as his word.

It was in the early afternoon that we started upon our

journey. The young chief walked at our head as our guide,
but refused indignantly to carry any burden. Behind him
came the two surviving Indians with our scanty possessions
upon their backs. We four white men walked in the rear with
rifles loaded and ready. As we started there broke from the
thick silent woods behind us a sudden great ululation of the
ape-men, which may have been a cheer of triumph at our
departure or a jeer of contempt at our flight. Looking back
we saw only the dense screen of trees, but that long-drawn
yell told us how many of our enemies lurked among them.
We saw no sign of pursuit, however, and soon we had got
into more open country and beyond their power.

As I tramped along, the rearmost of the four, I could not

help smiling at the appearance of my three companions in
front. Was this the luxurious Lord John Roxton who had sat
that evening in the Albany amidst his Persian rugs and his
pictures in the pink radiance of the tinted lights? And was
this the imposing Professor who had swelled behind the great
desk in his massive study at Enmore Park? And, finally,
could this be the austere and prim figure which had risen
before the meeting at the Zoological Institute? No three
tramps that one could have met in a Surrey lane could have
looked more hopeless and bedraggled. We had, it is true,
been only a week or so upon the top of the plateau, but all
our spare clothing was in our camp below, and the one week
had been a severe one upon us all, though least to me who
had not to endure the handling of the ape-men. My three
friends had all lost their hats, and had now bound
handkerchiefs round their heads, their clothes hung in
ribbons about them, and their unshaven grimy faces were
hardly to be recognized. Both Summerlee and Challenger
were limping heavily, while I still dragged my feet from
weakness after the shock of the morning, and my neck was
as stiff as a board from the murderous grip that held it. We
were indeed a sorry crew, and I did not wonder to see our
Indian companions glance back at us occasionally with
horror and amazement on their faces.

In the late afternoon we reached the margin of the lake,

and as we emerged from the bush and saw the sheet of water
stretching before us our native friends set up a shrill cry of
joy and pointed eagerly in front of them. It was indeed a
wonderful sight which lay before us. Sweeping over the
glassy surface was a great flotilla of canoes coming straight
for the shore upon which we stood. They were some miles
out when we first saw them, but they shot forward with
great swiftness, and were soon so near that the rowers could
distinguish our persons. Instantly a thunderous shout of
delight burst from them, and we saw them rise from their
seats, waving their paddles and spears madly in the air. Then
bending to their work once more, they flew across the
intervening water, beached their boats upon the sloping
sand, and rushed up to us, prostrating themselves with loud
cries of greeting before the young chief. Finally one of them,
an elderly man, with a necklace and bracelet of great
lustrous glass beads and the skin of some beautiful mottled
amber-colored animal slung over his shoulders, ran forward
and embraced most tenderly the youth whom we had saved.
He then looked at us and asked some questions, after which
he stepped up with much dignity and embraced us also each
in turn. Then, at his order, the whole tribe lay down upon
the ground before us in homage. Personally I felt shy and
uncomfortable at this obsequious adoration, and I read the
same feeling in the faces of Roxton and Summerlee, but
Challenger expanded like a flower in the sun.

"They may be undeveloped types," said he, stroking his

beard and looking round at them, "but their deportment in
the presence of their superiors might be a lesson to some of
our more advanced Europeans. Strange how correct are the
instincts of the natural man!"

It was clear that the natives had come out upon the war-
path, for every man carried his spear—a long bamboo tipped
with bone—his bow and arrows, and some sort of club or
stone battle-axe slung at his side. Their dark, angry glances
at the woods from which we had come, and the frequent
repetition of the word "Doda," made it clear enough that this
was a rescue party who had set forth to save or revenge the
old chief's son, for such we gathered that the youth must be.
A council was now held by the whole tribe squatting in a
circle, whilst we sat near on a slab of basalt and watched
their proceedings. Two or three warriors spoke, and finally
our young friend made a spirited harangue with such
eloquent features and gestures that we could understand it
all as clearly as if we had known his language.

"What is the use of returning?" he said. "Sooner or later

the thing must be done. Your comrades have been murdered.
What if I have returned safe? These others have been done to
death. There is no safety for any of us. We are assembled
now and ready." Then he pointed to us. "These strange men
are our friends. They are great fighters, and they hate the
ape-men even as we do. They command," here he pointed up
to heaven, "the thunder and the lightning. When shall we
have such a chance again? Let us go forward, and either die
now or live for the future in safety. How else shall we go
back unashamed to our women?"
 The little red warriors hung upon the words of the
speaker, and when he had finished they burst into a roar of
applause, waving their rude weapons in the air. The old chief
stepped forward to us, and asked us some questions,
pointing at the same time to the woods. Lord John made a
sign to him that he should wait for an answer and then he
turned to us.

"Well, it's up to you to say what you will do," said he;
"for my part I have a score to settle with these monkey-folk,
and if it ends by wiping them off the face of the earth I don't
see that the earth need fret about it. I'm goin' with our little
red pals and I mean to see them through the scrap. What do
you say, young fellah?"

"Of course I will come."

"And you, Challenger?"

"I will assuredly co-operate."

"And you, Summerlee?"

"We seem to be drifting very far from the object of this

expedition, Lord John. I assure you that I little thought when
I left my professional chair in London that it was for the
purpose of heading a raid of savages upon a colony of
anthropoid apes."

"To such base uses do we come," said Lord John, smiling.

"But we are up against it, so what's the decision?"

"It seems a most questionable step," said Summerlee,

argumentative to the last, "but if you are all going, I hardly
see how I can remain behind."

"Then it is settled," said Lord John, and turning to the

chief he nodded and slapped his rifle.
 The old fellow clasped our hands, each in turn, while his
men cheered louder than ever. It was too late to advance
that night, so the Indians settled down into a rude bivouac.
On all sides their fires began to glimmer and smoke. Some of
them who had disappeared into the jungle came back
presently driving a young iguanodon before them. Like the
others, it had a daub of asphalt upon its shoulder, and it was
only when we saw one of the natives step forward with the
air of an owner and give his consent to the beast's slaughter
that we understood at last that these great creatures were as
much private property as a herd of cattle, and that these
symbols which had so perplexed us were nothing more than
the marks of the owner. Helpless, torpid, and vegetarian,
with great limbs but a minute brain, they could be rounded
up and driven by a child. In a few minutes the huge beast
had been cut up and slabs of him were hanging over a dozen
camp fires, together with great scaly ganoid fish which had
been speared in the lake.

Summerlee had lain down and slept upon the sand, but
we others roamed round the edge of the water, seeking to
learn something more of this strange country. Twice we
found pits of blue clay, such as we had already seen in the
swamp of the pterodactyls. These were old volcanic vents,
and for some reason excited the greatest interest in Lord
John. What attracted Challenger, on the other hand, was a
bubbling, gurgling mud geyser, where some strange gas
formed great bursting bubbles upon the surface. He thrust a
hollow reed into it and cried out with delight like a
schoolboy then he was able, on touching it with a lighted
match, to cause a sharp explosion and a blue flame at the far
end of the tube. Still more pleased was he when, inverting a
leathern pouch over the end of the reed, and so filling it with
the gas, he was able to send it soaring up into the air.

"An inflammable gas, and one markedly lighter than the

atmosphere. I should say beyond doubt that it contained a
considerable proportion of free hydrogen. The resources of
G. E. C. are not yet exhausted, my young friend. I may yet
show you how a great mind molds all Nature to its use." He
swelled with some secret purpose, but would say no more.

There was nothing which we could see upon the shore

which seemed to me so wonderful as the great sheet of water
before us. Our numbers and our noise had frightened all
living creatures away, and save for a few pterodactyls, which
soared round high above our heads while they waited for the
carrion, all was still around the camp. But it was different
out upon the rose-tinted waters of the central lake. It boiled
and heaved with strange life. Great slate-colored backs and
high serrated dorsal fins shot up with a fringe of silver, and
then rolled down into the depths again. The sand-banks far
out were spotted with uncouth crawling forms, huge turtles,
strange saurians, and one great flat creature like a writhing,
palpitating mat of black greasy leather, which flopped its
way slowly to the lake. Here and there high serpent heads
projected out of the water, cutting swiftly through it with a
little collar of foam in front, and a long swirling wake
behind, rising and falling in graceful, swan-like undulations
as they went. It was not until one of these creatures wriggled
on to a sand-bank within a few hundred yards of us, and
exposed a barrel-shaped body and huge flippers behind the
long serpent neck, that Challenger, and Summerlee, who had
joined us, broke out into their duet of wonder and
admiration.

"Plesiosaurus! A fresh-water plesiosaurus!" cried

Summerlee. "That I should have lived to see such a sight! We
are blessed, my dear Challenger, above all zoologists since
the world began!"

It was not until the night had fallen, and the fires of our
savage allies glowed red in the shadows, that our two men of
science could be dragged away from the fascinations of that
primeval lake. Even in the darkness as we lay upon the
strand, we heard from time to time the snort and plunge of
the huge creatures who lived therein.

At earliest dawn our camp was astir and an hour later we

had started upon our memorable expedition. Often in my
dreams have I thought that I might live to be a war
correspondent. In what wildest one could I have conceived
the nature of the campaign which it should be my lot to
report! Here then is my first despatch from a field of battle:

Our numbers had been reinforced during the night by a

fresh batch of natives from the caves, and we may have been
four or five hundred strong when we made our advance. A
fringe of scouts was thrown out in front, and behind them
the whole force in a solid column made their way up the long
slope of the bush country until we were near the edge of the
forest. Here they spread out into a long straggling line of
spearmen and bowmen. Roxton and Summerlee took their
position upon the right flank, while Challenger and I were on
the left. It was a host of the stone age that we were
accompanying to battle—we with the last word of the
gunsmith's art from St. James' Street and the Strand.

We had not long to wait for our enemy. A wild shrill

clamor rose from the edge of the wood and suddenly a body
of ape-men rushed out with clubs and stones, and made for
the center of the Indian line. It was a valiant move but a
foolish one, for the great bandy-legged creatures were slow of
foot, while their opponents were as active as cats. It was
horrible to see the fierce brutes with foaming mouths and
glaring eyes, rushing and grasping, but forever missing their
elusive enemies, while arrow after arrow buried itself in their
hides. One great fellow ran past me roaring with pain, with a
dozen darts sticking from his chest and ribs. In mercy I put a
bullet through his skull, and he fell sprawling among the
aloes. But this was the only shot fired, for the attack had
been on the center of the line, and the Indians there had
needed no help of ours in repulsing it. Of all the ape-men
who had rushed out into the open, I do not think that one
got back to cover.

But the matter was more deadly when we came among

the trees. For an hour or more after we entered the wood,
there was a desperate struggle in which for a time we hardly
held our own. Springing out from among the scrub the ape-
men with huge clubs broke in upon the Indians and often
felled three or four of them before they could be speared.
Their frightful blows shattered everything upon which they
fell. One of them knocked Summerlee's rifle to matchwood
and the next would have crushed his skull had an Indian not
stabbed the beast to the heart. Other ape-men in the trees
above us hurled down stones and logs of wood, occasionally
dropping bodily on to our ranks and fighting furiously until
they were felled. Once our allies broke under the pressure,
and had it not been for the execution done by our rifles they
would certainly have taken to their heels. But they were
gallantly rallied by their old chief and came on with such a
rush that the ape-men began in turn to give way. Summerlee
was weaponless, but I was emptying my magazine as quick
as I could fire, and on the further flank we heard the
continuous cracking of our companion's rifles.

Then in a moment came the panic and the collapse.

Screaming and howling, the great creatures rushed away in
all directions through the brushwood, while our allies yelled
in their savage delight, following swiftly after their flying
enemies. All the feuds of countless generations, all the
hatreds and cruelties of their narrow history, all the
memories of ill-usage and persecution were to be purged that
day. At last man was to be supreme and the man-beast to
find forever his allotted place. Fly as they would the fugitives
were too slow to escape from the active savages, and from
every side in the tangled woods we heard the exultant yells,
the twanging of bows, and the crash and thud as ape-men
were brought down from their hiding-places in the trees.

I was following the others, when I found that Lord John

and Challenger had come across to join us.

"It's over," said Lord John. "I think we can leave the
tidying up to them. Perhaps the less we see of it the better
we shall sleep."

Challenger's eyes were shining with the lust of slaughter.

"We have been privileged," he cried, strutting about like a

gamecock, "to be present at one of the typical decisive battles
of history—the battles which have determined the fate of the
world. What, my friends, is the conquest of one nation by
another? It is meaningless. Each produces the same result.
But those fierce fights, when in the dawn of the ages the
cave-dwellers held their own against the tiger folk, or the
elephants first found that they had a master, those were the
real conquests—the victories that count. By this strange turn
of fate we have seen and helped to decide even such a
contest. Now upon this plateau the future must ever be for
man."

It needed a robust faith in the end to justify such tragic

means. As we advanced together through the woods we
found the ape-men lying thick, transfixed with spears or
arrows. Here and there a little group of shattered Indians
marked where one of the anthropoids had turned to bay, and
sold his life dearly. Always in front of us we heard the
yelling and roaring which showed the direction of the
pursuit. The ape-men had been driven back to their city,
they had made a last stand there, once again they had been
broken, and now we were in time to see the final fearful
scene of all. Some eighty or a hundred males, the last
survivors, had been driven across that same little clearing
which led to the edge of the cliff, the scene of our own
exploit two days before. As we arrived the Indians, a
semicircle of spearmen, had closed in on them, and in a
minute it was over, Thirty or forty died where they stood.
The others, screaming and clawing, were thrust over the
precipice, and went hurtling down, as their prisoners had of
old, on to the sharp bamboos six hundred feet below. It was
as Challenger had said, and the reign of man was assured
forever in Maple White Land. The males were exterminated,
Ape Town was destroyed, the females and young were driven
away to live in bondage, and the long rivalry of untold
centuries had reached its bloody end.

For us the victory brought much advantage. Once again

we were able to visit our camp and get at our stores. Once
more also we were able to communicate with Zambo, who
had been terrified by the spectacle from afar of an avalanche
of apes falling from the edge of the cliff.

"Come away, Massas, come away!" he cried, his eyes

starting from his head. "The debbil get you sure if you stay
up there."

"It is the voice of sanity!" said Summerlee with

conviction. "We have had adventures enough and they are
neither suitable to our character or our position. I hold you
to your word, Challenger. From now onwards you devote
your energies to getting us out of this horrible country and
back once more to civilization."
 CHAPTER XV
"Our Eyes have seen Great Wonders"

I write this from day to day, but I trust that before I

come to the end of it, I may be able to say that the light
shines, at last, through our clouds. We are held here with no
clear means of making our escape, and bitterly we chafe
against it. Yet, I can well imagine that the day may come
when we may be glad that we were kept, against our will, to
see something more of the wonders of this singular place,
and of the creatures who inhabit it.

The victory of the Indians and the annihilation of the

ape-men, marked the turning point of our fortunes. From
then onwards, we were in truth masters of the plateau, for
the natives looked upon us with a mixture of fear and
gratitude, since by our strange powers we had aided them to
destroy their hereditary foe. For their own sakes they would,
perhaps, be glad to see the departure of such formidable and
incalculable people, but they have not themselves suggested
any way by which we may reach the plains below. There had
been, so far as we could follow their signs, a tunnel by which
the place could be approached, the lower exit of which we
had seen from below. By this, no doubt, both ape-men and
Indians had at different epochs reached the top, and Maple
White with his companion had taken the same way. Only the
year before, however, there had been a terrific earthquake,
and the upper end of the tunnel had fallen in and completely
disappeared. The Indians now could only shake their heads
and shrug their shoulders when we expressed by signs our
desire to descend. It may be that they cannot, but it may
also be that they will not, help us to get away.

At the end of the victorious campaign the surviving ape-

folk were driven across the plateau (their wailings were
horrible) and established in the neighborhood of the Indian
caves, where they would, from now onwards, be a servile
race under the eyes of their masters. It was a rude, raw,
primeval version of the Jews in Babylon or the Israelites in
Egypt. At night we could hear from amid the trees the long-
drawn cry, as some primitive Ezekiel mourned for fallen
greatness and recalled the departed glories of Ape Town.
Hewers of wood and drawers of water, such were they from
now onwards.

We had returned across the plateau with our allies two

days after the battle, and made our camp at the foot of their
cliffs. They would have had us share their caves with them,
but Lord John would by no means consent to it considering
that to do so would put us in their power if they were
treacherously disposed. We kept our independence,
therefore, and had our weapons ready for any emergency,
while preserving the most friendly relations. We also
continually visited their caves, which were most remarkable
places, though whether made by man or by Nature we have
never been able to determine. They were all on the one
stratum, hollowed out of some soft rock which lay between
the volcanic basalt forming the ruddy cliffs above them, and
the hard granite which formed their base.

The openings were about eighty feet above the ground,

and were led up to by long stone stairs, so narrow and steep
that no large animal could mount them. Inside they were
warm and dry, running in straight passages of varying length
into the side of the hill, with smooth gray walls decorated
with many excellent pictures done with charred sticks and
representing the various animals of the plateau. If every
living thing were swept from the country the future explorer
would find upon the walls of these caves ample evidence of
the strange fauna—the dinosaurs, iguanodons, and fish
lizards—which had lived so recently upon earth.

Since we had learned that the huge iguanodons were

kept as tame herds by their owners, and were simply walking
meat-stores, we had conceived that man, even with his
primitive weapons, had established his ascendancy upon the
plateau. We were soon to discover that it was not so, and
that he was still there upon tolerance.

It was on the third day after our forming our camp near
the Indian caves that the tragedy occurred. Challenger and
Summerlee had gone off together that day to the lake where
some of the natives, under their direction, were engaged in
harpooning specimens of the great lizards. Lord John and I
had remained in our camp, while a number of the Indians
were scattered about upon the grassy slope in front of the
caves engaged in different ways. Suddenly there was a shrill
cry of alarm, with the word "Stoa" resounding from a
hundred tongues. From every side men, women, and children
were rushing wildly for shelter, swarming up the staircases
and into the caves in a mad stampede.

Looking up, we could see them waving their arms from

the rocks above and beckoning to us to join them in their
refuge. We had both seized our magazine rifles and ran out
to see what the danger could be. Suddenly from the near belt
of trees there broke forth a group of twelve or fifteen
Indians, running for their lives, and at their very heels two of
those frightful monsters which had disturbed our camp and
pursued me upon my solitary journey. In shape they were
like horrible toads, and moved in a succession of springs, but
in size they were of an incredible bulk, larger than the largest
elephant. We had never before seen them save at night, and
indeed they are nocturnal animals save when disturbed in
their lairs, as these had been. We now stood amazed at the
sight, for their blotched and warty skins were of a curious
fish-like iridescence, and the sunlight struck them with an
ever-varying rainbow bloom as they moved.

We had little time to watch them, however, for in an

instant they had overtaken the fugitives and were making a
dire slaughter among them. Their method was to fall forward
with their full weight upon each in turn, leaving him crushed
and mangled, to bound on after the others. The wretched
Indians screamed with terror, but were helpless, run as they
would, before the relentless purpose and horrible activity of
these monstrous creatures. One after another they went
down, and there were not half-a-dozen surviving by the time
my companion and I could come to their help. But our aid
was of little avail and only involved us in the same peril. At
the range of a couple of hundred yards we emptied our
magazines, firing bullet after bullet into the beasts, but with
no more effect than if we were pelting them with pellets of
paper. Their slow reptilian natures cared nothing for
wounds, and the springs of their lives, with no special brain
center but scattered throughout their spinal cords, could not
be tapped by any modern weapons. The most that we could
do was to check their progress by distracting their attention
with the flash and roar of our guns, and so to give both the
natives and ourselves time to reach the steps which led to
safety. But where the conical explosive bullets of the
twentieth century were of no avail, the poisoned arrows of
the natives, dipped in the juice of strophanthus and steeped
afterwards in decayed carrion, could succeed. Such arrows
were of little avail to the hunter who attacked the beast,
because their action in that torpid circulation was slow, and
before its powers failed it could certainly overtake and slay
its assailant. But now, as the two monsters hounded us to
the very foot of the stairs, a drift of darts came whistling
from every chink in the cliff above them. In a minute they
were feathered with them, and yet with no sign of pain they
clawed and slobbered with impotent rage at the steps which
would lead them to their victims, mounting clumsily up for a
few yards and then sliding down again to the ground. But at
last the poison worked. One of them gave a deep rumbling
groan and dropped his huge squat head on to the earth. The
other bounded round in an eccentric circle with shrill,
wailing cries, and then lying down writhed in agony for some
minutes before it also stiffened and lay still. With yells of
triumph the Indians came flocking down from their caves
and danced a frenzied dance of victory round the dead
bodies, in mad joy that two more of the most dangerous of
all their enemies had been slain. That night they cut up and
removed the bodies, not to eat—for the poison was still
active—but lest they should breed a pestilence. The great
reptilian hearts, however, each as large as a cushion, still lay
there, beating slowly and steadily, with a gentle rise and fall,
in horrible independent life. It was only upon the third day
that the ganglia ran down and the dreadful things were still.

Some day, when I have a better desk than a meat-tin and

more helpful tools than a worn stub of pencil and a last,
tattered note-book, I will write some fuller account of the
Accala Indians—of our life amongst them, and of the
glimpses which we had of the strange conditions of
wondrous Maple White Land. Memory, at least, will never
fail me, for so long as the breath of life is in me, every hour
and every action of that period will stand out as hard and
clear as do the first strange happenings of our childhood. No
new impressions could efface those which are so deeply cut.
When the time comes I will describe that wondrous moonlit
night upon the great lake when a young ichthyosaurus—a
strange creature, half seal, half fish, to look at, with bone-
covered eyes on each side of his snout, and a third eye fixed
upon the top of his head—was entangled in an Indian net,
and nearly upset our canoe before we towed it ashore; the
same night that a green water-snake shot out from the rushes
and carried off in its coils the steersman of Challenger's
canoe. I will tell, too, of the great nocturnal white thing—to
this day we do not know whether it was beast or reptile—
which lived in a vile swamp to the east of the lake, and
flitted about with a faint phosphorescent glimmer in the
darkness. The Indians were so terrified at it that they would
not go near the place, and, though we twice made
expeditions and saw it each time, we could not make our
way through the deep marsh in which it lived. I can only say
that it seemed to be larger than a cow and had the strangest
musky odor. I will tell also of the huge bird which chased
Challenger to the shelter of the rocks one day—a great
running bird, far taller than an ostrich, with a vulture-like
neck and cruel head which made it a walking death. As
Challenger climbed to safety one dart of that savage curving
beak shore off the heel of his boot as if it had been cut with
a chisel. This time at least modern weapons prevailed and
the great creature, twelve feet from head to foot—
phororachus its name, according to our panting but exultant
Professor—went down before Lord Roxton's rifle in a flurry
of waving feathers and kicking limbs, with two remorseless
yellow eyes glaring up from the midst of it. May I live to see
that flattened vicious skull in its own niche amid the trophies
of the Albany. Finally, I will assuredly give some account of
the toxodon, the giant ten-foot guinea pig, with projecting
chisel teeth, which we killed as it drank in the gray of the
morning by the side of the lake.

All this I shall some day write at fuller length, and

amidst these more stirring days I would tenderly sketch in
these lovely summer evenings, when with the deep blue sky
above us we lay in good comradeship among the long grasses
by the wood and marveled at the strange fowl that swept
over us and the quaint new creatures which crept from their
burrows to watch us, while above us the boughs of the
bushes were heavy with luscious fruit, and below us strange
and lovely flowers peeped at us from among the herbage; or
those long moonlit nights when we lay out upon the
shimmering surface of the great lake and watched with
wonder and awe the huge circles rippling out from the
sudden splash of some fantastic monster; or the greenish
gleam, far down in the deep water, of some strange creature
upon the confines of darkness. These are the scenes which
my mind and my pen will dwell upon in every detail at some
future day.

But, you will ask, why these experiences and why this
delay, when you and your comrades should have been
occupied day and night in the devising of some means by
which you could return to the outer world? My answer is,
that there was not one of us who was not working for this
end, but that our work had been in vain. One fact we had
very speedily discovered: The Indians would do nothing to
help us. In every other way they were our friends—one might
almost say our devoted slaves—but when it was suggested
that they should help us to make and carry a plank which
would bridge the chasm, or when we wished to get from
them thongs of leather or liana to weave ropes which might
help us, we were met by a good-humored, but an invincible,
refusal. They would smile, twinkle their eyes, shake their
heads, and there was the end of it. Even the old chief met us
with the same obstinate denial, and it was only Maretas, the
youngster whom we had saved, who looked wistfully at us
and told us by his gestures that he was grieved for our
thwarted wishes. Ever since their crowning triumph with the
ape-men they looked upon us as supermen, who bore victory
in the tubes of strange weapons, and they believed that so
long as we remained with them good fortune would be
theirs. A little red-skinned wife and a cave of our own were
freely offered to each of us if we would but forget our own
people and dwell forever upon the plateau. So far all had
been kindly, however far apart our desires might be; but we
felt well assured that our actual plans of a descent must be
kept secret, for we had reason to fear that at the last they
might try to hold us by force.

In spite of the danger from dinosaurs (which is not great

save at night, for, as I may have said before, they are mostly
nocturnal in their habits) I have twice in the last three weeks
been over to our old camp in order to see our negro who still
kept watch and ward below the cliff. My eyes strained
eagerly across the great plain in the hope of seeing afar off
the help for which we had prayed. But the long cactus-
strewn levels still stretched away, empty and bare, to the
distant line of the cane-brake.

"They will soon come now, Massa Malone. Before

another week pass Indian come back and bring rope and
fetch you down." Such was the cheery cry of our excellent
Zambo.

I had one strange experience as I came from this second

visit which had involved my being away for a night from my
companions. I was returning along the well-remembered
route, and had reached a spot within a mile or so of the
marsh of the pterodactyls, when I saw an extraordinary
object approaching me. It was a man who walked inside a
framework made of bent canes so that he was enclosed on all
sides in a bell-shaped cage. As I drew nearer I was more
amazed still to see that it was Lord John Roxton. When he
saw me he slipped from under his curious protection and
came towards me laughing, and yet, as I thought, with some
confusion in his manner.

"Well, young fellah," said he, "who would have thought of

meetin' you up here?"

"What in the world are you doing?" I asked.

"Visitin' my friends, the pterodactyls," said he.

 "But why?"

"Interestin' beasts, don't you think? But unsociable!

Nasty rude ways with strangers, as you may remember. So I
rigged this framework which keeps them from bein' too
pressin' in their attentions."

"But what do you want in the swamp?"

He looked at me with a very questioning eye, and I read

hesitation in his face.

"Don't you think other people besides Professors can

want to know things?" he said at last. "I'm studyin' the pretty
dears. That's enough for you."

"No offense," said I.

His good-humor returned and he laughed.

"No offense, young fellah. I'm goin' to get a young devil

chick for Challenger. That's one of my jobs. No, I don't want
your company. I'm safe in this cage, and you are not. So
long, and I'll be back in camp by night-fall."

He turned away and I left him wandering on through the

wood with his extraordinary cage around him.

If Lord John's behavior at this time was strange, that of

Challenger was more so. I may say that he seemed to possess
an extraordinary fascination for the Indian women, and that
he always carried a large spreading palm branch with which
he beat them off as if they were flies, when their attentions
became too pressing. To see him walking like a comic opera
Sultan, with this badge of authority in his hand, his black
beard bristling in front of him, his toes pointing at each step,
and a train of wide-eyed Indian girls behind him, clad in
their slender drapery of bark cloth, is one of the most
grotesque of all the pictures which I will carry back with me.
As to Summerlee, he was absorbed in the insect and bird life
of the plateau, and spent his whole time (save that
considerable portion which was devoted to abusing
Challenger for not getting us out of our difficulties) in
cleaning and mounting his specimens.

Challenger had been in the habit of walking off by

himself every morning and returning from time to time with
looks of portentous solemnity, as one who bears the full
weight of a great enterprise upon his shoulders. One day,
palm branch in hand, and his crowd of adoring devotees
behind him, he led us down to his hidden work-shop and
took us into the secret of his plans.

The place was a small clearing in the center of a palm

grove. In this was one of those boiling mud geysers which I
have already described. Around its edge were scattered a
number of leathern thongs cut from iguanodon hide, and a
large collapsed membrane which proved to be the dried and
scraped stomach of one of the great fish lizards from the
lake. This huge sack had been sewn up at one end and only a
small orifice left at the other. Into this opening several
bamboo canes had been inserted and the other ends of these
canes were in contact with conical clay funnels which
collected the gas bubbling up through the mud of the geyser.
Soon the flaccid organ began to slowly expand and show
such a tendency to upward movements that Challenger
fastened the cords which held it to the trunks of the
surrounding trees. In half an hour a good-sized gas-bag had
been formed, and the jerking and straining upon the thongs
showed that it was capable of considerable lift. Challenger,
like a glad father in the presence of his first-born, stood
smiling and stroking his beard, in silent, self-satisfied
content as he gazed at the creation of his brain. It was
Summerlee who first broke the silence.
 "You don't mean us to go up in that thing, Challenger?"
said he, in an acid voice.

"I mean, my dear Summerlee, to give you such a

demonstration of its powers that after seeing it you will, I am
sure, have no hesitation in trusting yourself to it."

"You can put it right out of your head now, at once," said
Summerlee with decision, "nothing on earth would induce me
to commit such a folly. Lord John, I trust that you will not
countenance such madness?"

"Dooced ingenious, I call it," said our peer. "I'd like to see
how it works."

"So you shall," said Challenger. "For some days I have

exerted my whole brain force upon the problem of how we
shall descend from these cliffs. We have satisfied ourselves
that we cannot climb down and that there is no tunnel. We
are also unable to construct any kind of bridge which may
take us back to the pinnacle from which we came. How then
shall I find a means to convey us? Some little time ago I had
remarked to our young friend here that free hydrogen was
evolved from the geyser. The idea of a balloon naturally
followed. I was, I will admit, somewhat baffled by the
difficulty of discovering an envelope to contain the gas, but
the contemplation of the immense entrails of these reptiles
supplied me with a solution to the problem. Behold the
result!"

He put one hand in the front of his ragged jacket and

pointed proudly with the other.

By this time the gas-bag had swollen to a goodly

rotundity and was jerking strongly upon its lashings.

"Midsummer madness!" snorted Summerlee.

 Lord John was delighted with the whole idea. "Clever old
dear, ain't he?" he whispered to me, and then louder to
Challenger. "What about a car?"

"The car will be my next care. I have already planned

how it is to be made and attached. Meanwhile I will simply
show you how capable my apparatus is of supporting the
weight of each of us."

"All of us, surely?"

"No, it is part of my plan that each in turn shall descend

as in a parachute, and the balloon be drawn back by means
which I shall have no difficulty in perfecting. If it will
support the weight of one and let him gently down, it will
have done all that is required of it. I will now show you its
capacity in that direction."

He brought out a lump of basalt of a considerable size,

constructed in the middle so that a cord could be easily
attached to it. This cord was the one which we had brought
with us on to the plateau after we had used it for climbing
the pinnacle. It was over a hundred feet long, and though it
was thin it was very strong. He had prepared a sort of collar
of leather with many straps depending from it. This collar
was placed over the dome of the balloon, and the hanging
thongs were gathered together below, so that the pressure of
any weight would be diffused over a considerable surface.
Then the lump of basalt was fastened to the thongs, and the
rope was allowed to hang from the end of it, being passed
three times round the Professor's arm.

"I will now," said Challenger, with a smile of pleased

anticipation, "demonstrate the carrying power of my
balloon." As he said so he cut with a knife the various
lashings that held it.
 Never was our expedition in more imminent danger of
complete annihilation. The inflated membrane shot up with
frightful velocity into the air. In an instant Challenger was
pulled off his feet and dragged after it. I had just time to
throw my arms round his ascending waist when I was myself
whipped up into the air. Lord John had me with a rat-trap
grip round the legs, but I felt that he also was coming off the
ground. For a moment I had a vision of four adventurers
floating like a string of sausages over the land that they had
explored. But, happily, there were limits to the strain which
the rope would stand, though none apparently to the lifting
powers of this infernal machine. There was a sharp crack,
and we were in a heap upon the ground with coils of rope all
over us. When we were able to stagger to our feet we saw far
off in the deep blue sky one dark spot where the lump of
basalt was speeding upon its way.

"Splendid!" cried the undaunted Challenger, rubbing his

injured arm. "A most thorough and satisfactory
demonstration! I could not have anticipated such a success.
Within a week, gentlemen, I promise that a second balloon
will be prepared, and that you can count upon taking in
safety and comfort the first stage of our homeward journey."
So far I have written each of the foregoing events as it
occurred. Now I am rounding off my narrative from the old
camp, where Zambo has waited so long, with all our
difficulties and dangers left like a dream behind us upon the
summit of those vast ruddy crags which tower above our
heads. We have descended in safety, though in a most
unexpected fashion, and all is well with us. In six weeks or
two months we shall be in London, and it is possible that
this letter may not reach you much earlier than we do
ourselves. Already our hearts yearn and our spirits fly
towards the great mother city which holds so much that is
dear to us.
 It was on the very evening of our perilous adventure with
Challenger's home-made balloon that the change came in our
fortunes. I have said that the one person from whom we had
had some sign of sympathy in our attempts to get away was
the young chief whom we had rescued. He alone had no
desire to hold us against our will in a strange land. He had
told us as much by his expressive language of signs. That
evening, after dusk, he came down to our little camp,
handed me (for some reason he had always shown his
attentions to me, perhaps because I was the one who was
nearest his age) a small roll of the bark of a tree, and then
pointing solemnly up at the row of caves above him, he had
put his finger to his lips as a sign of secrecy and had stolen
back again to his people.

I took the slip of bark to the firelight and we examined it

together. It was about a foot square, and on the inner side
there was a singular arrangement of lines, which I here
reproduce:

They were neatly done in charcoal upon the white

surface, and looked to me at first sight like some sort of
rough musical score.

"Whatever it is, I can swear that it is of importance to

us," said I. "I could read that on his face as he gave it."

"Unless we have come upon a primitive practical joker,"

Summerlee suggested, "which I should think would be one of
the most elementary developments of man."

"It is clearly some sort of script," said Challenger.

"Looks like a guinea puzzle competition," remarked Lord

John, craning his neck to have a look at it. Then suddenly he
stretched out his hand and seized the puzzle.
 "By George!" he cried, "I believe I've got it. The boy
guessed right the very first time. See here! How many marks
are on that paper? Eighteen. Well, if you come to think of it
there are eighteen cave openings on the hill-side above us."

"He pointed up to the caves when he gave it to me," said

I.

"Well, that settles it. This is a chart of the caves. What!

Eighteen of them all in a row, some short, some deep, some
branching, same as we saw them. It's a map, and here's a
cross on it. What's the cross for? It is placed to mark one
that is much deeper than the others."

"One that goes through," I cried.

"I believe our young friend has read the riddle," said
Challenger. "If the cave does not go through I do not
understand why this person, who has every reason to mean
us well, should have drawn our attention to it. But if it does
go through and comes out at the corresponding point on the
other side, we should not have more than a hundred feet to
descend."

"A hundred feet!" grumbled Summerlee.

"Well, our rope is still more than a hundred feet long," I

cried. "Surely we could get down."

"How about the Indians in the cave?" Summerlee

objected.

"There are no Indians in any of the caves above our

heads," said I. "They are all used as barns and store-houses.
Why should we not go up now at once and spy out the land?"

There is a dry bituminous wood upon the plateau—a

species of araucaria, according to our botanist—which is
always used by the Indians for torches. Each of us picked up
a faggot of this, and we made our way up weed-covered
steps to the particular cave which was marked in the
drawing. It was, as I had said, empty, save for a great
number of enormous bats, which flapped round our heads as
we advanced into it. As we had no desire to draw the
attention of the Indians to our proceedings, we stumbled
along in the dark until we had gone round several curves and
penetrated a considerable distance into the cavern. Then, at
last, we lit our torches. It was a beautiful dry tunnel with
smooth gray walls covered with native symbols, a curved
roof which arched over our heads, and white glistening sand
beneath our feet. We hurried eagerly along it until, with a
deep groan of bitter disappointment, we were brought to a
halt. A sheer wall of rock had appeared before us, with no
chink through which a mouse could have slipped. There was
no escape for us there.

We stood with bitter hearts staring at this unexpected

obstacle. It was not the result of any convulsion, as in the
case of the ascending tunnel. The end wall was exactly like
the side ones. It was, and had always been, a cul-de-sac.

"Never mind, my friends," said the indomitable

Challenger. "You have still my firm promise of a balloon."

Summerlee groaned.

"Can we be in the wrong cave?" I suggested.

"No use, young fellah," said Lord John, with his finger on
the chart. "Seventeen from the right and second from the
left. This is the cave sure enough."

I looked at the mark to which his finger pointed, and I

gave a sudden cry of joy.

"I believe I have it! Follow me! Follow me!"

 I hurried back along the way we had come, my torch in
my hand. "Here," said I, pointing to some matches upon the
ground, "is where we lit up."

"Exactly."

"Well, it is marked as a forked cave, and in the darkness

we passed the fork before the torches were lit. On the right
side as we go out we should find the longer arm."

It was as I had said. We had not gone thirty yards before

a great black opening loomed in the wall. We turned into it
to find that we were in a much larger passage than before.
Along it we hurried in breathless impatience for many
hundreds of yards. Then, suddenly, in the black darkness of
the arch in front of us we saw a gleam of dark red light. We
stared in amazement. A sheet of steady flame seemed to
cross the passage and to bar our way. We hastened towards
it. No sound, no heat, no movement came from it, but still
the great luminous curtain glowed before us, silvering all the
cave and turning the sand to powdered jewels, until as we
drew closer it discovered a circular edge.

"The moon, by George!" cried Lord John. "We are

through, boys! We are through!"

It was indeed the full moon which shone straight down

the aperture which opened upon the cliffs. It was a small
rift, not larger than a window, but it was enough for all our
purposes. As we craned our necks through it we could see
that the descent was not a very difficult one, and that the
level ground was no very great way below us. It was no
wonder that from below we had not observed the place, as
the cliffs curved overhead and an ascent at the spot would
have seemed so impossible as to discourage close inspection.
We satisfied ourselves that with the help of our rope we
could find our way down, and then returned, rejoicing, to
our camp to make our preparations for the next evening.

What we did we had to do quickly and secretly, since

even at this last hour the Indians might hold us back. Our
stores we would leave behind us, save only our guns and
cartridges. But Challenger had some unwieldy stuff which he
ardently desired to take with him, and one particular
package, of which I may not speak, which gave us more
labor than any. Slowly the day passed, but when the
darkness fell we were ready for our departure. With much
labor we got our things up the steps, and then, looking back,
took one last long survey of that strange land, soon I fear to
be vulgarized, the prey of hunter and prospector, but to each
of us a dreamland of glamour and romance, a land where we
had dared much, suffered much, and learned much—OUR
land, as we shall ever fondly call it. Along upon our left the
neighboring caves each threw out its ruddy cheery firelight
into the gloom. From the slope below us rose the voices of
the Indians as they laughed and sang. Beyond was the long
sweep of the woods, and in the center, shimmering vaguely
through the gloom, was the great lake, the mother of strange
monsters. Even as we looked a high whickering cry, the call
of some weird animal, rang clear out of the darkness. It was
the very voice of Maple White Land bidding us good-bye. We
turned and plunged into the cave which led to home.

Two hours later, we, our packages, and all we owned,

were at the foot of the cliff. Save for Challenger's luggage we
had never a difficulty. Leaving it all where we descended, we
started at once for Zambo's camp. In the early morning we
approached it, but only to find, to our amazement, not one
fire but a dozen upon the plain. The rescue party had
arrived. There were twenty Indians from the river, with
stakes, ropes, and all that could be useful for bridging the
chasm. At least we shall have no difficulty now in carrying
our packages, when to-morrow we begin to make our way
back to the Amazon.

And so, in humble and thankful mood, I close this

account. Our eyes have seen great wonders and our souls are
chastened by what we have endured. Each is in his own way
a better and deeper man. It may be that when we reach Para
we shall stop to refit. If we do, this letter will be a mail
ahead. If not, it will reach London on the very day that I do.
In either case, my dear Mr. McArdle, I hope very soon to
shake you by the hand.

Ebd
E-BooksDirectory.com
 CHAPTER XVI
"A Procession! A Procession!"
I should wish to place upon record here our gratitude to
all our friends upon the Amazon for the very great kindness
and hospitality which was shown to us upon our return
journey. Very particularly would I thank Senhor Penalosa
and other officials of the Brazilian Government for the
special arrangements by which we were helped upon our
way, and Senhor Pereira of Para, to whose forethought we
owe the complete outfit for a decent appearance in the
civilized world which we found ready for us at that town. It
seemed a poor return for all the courtesy which we
encountered that we should deceive our hosts and
benefactors, but under the circumstances we had really no
alternative, and I hereby tell them that they will only waste
their time and their money if they attempt to follow upon
our traces. Even the names have been altered in our
accounts, and I am very sure that no one, from the most
careful study of them, could come within a thousand miles of
our unknown land.

The excitement which had been caused through those

parts of South America which we had to traverse was
imagined by us to be purely local, and I can assure our
friends in England that we had no notion of the uproar
which the mere rumor of our experiences had caused through
Europe. It was not until the Ivernia was within five hundred
miles of Southampton that the wireless messages from paper
after paper and agency after agency, offering huge prices for
a short return message as to our actual results, showed us
how strained was the attention not only of the scientific
world but of the general public. It was agreed among us,
however, that no definite statement should be given to the
Press until we had met the members of the Zoological
Institute, since as delegates it was our clear duty to give our
first report to the body from which we had received our
commission of investigation. Thus, although we found
Southampton full of Pressmen, we absolutely refused to give
any information, which had the natural effect of focussing
public attention upon the meeting which was advertised for
the evening of November 7th. For this gathering, the
Zoological Hall which had been the scene of the inception of
our task was found to be far too small, and it was only in the
Queen's Hall in Regent Street that accommodation could be
found. It is now common knowledge the promoters might
have ventured upon the Albert Hall and still found their
space too scanty.

It was for the second evening after our arrival that the
great meeting had been fixed. For the first, we had each, no
doubt, our own pressing personal affairs to absorb us. Of
mine I cannot yet speak. It may be that as it stands further
from me I may think of it, and even speak of it, with less
emotion. I have shown the reader in the beginning of this
narrative where lay the springs of my action. It is but right,
perhaps, that I should carry on the tale and show also the
results. And yet the day may come when I would not have it
otherwise. At least I have been driven forth to take part in a
wondrous adventure, and I cannot but be thankful to the
force that drove me.

And now I turn to the last supreme eventful moment of

our adventure. As I was racking my brain as to how I should
best describe it, my eyes fell upon the issue of my own
Journal for the morning of the 8th of November with the full
and excellent account of my friend and fellow-reporter
Macdona. What can I do better than transcribe his
narrative—head-lines and all? I admit that the paper was
exuberant in the matter, out of compliment to its own
enterprise in sending a correspondent, but the other great
dailies were hardly less full in their account. Thus, then,
friend Mac in his report:

THE NEW WORLD

GREAT MEETING AT THE QUEEN'S HALL
SCENES OF UPROAR
EXTRAORDINARY INCIDENT
WHAT WAS IT?
NOCTURNAL RIOT IN REGENT STREET
(Special)

"The much-discussed meeting of the Zoological Institute,

convened to hear the report of the Committee of
Investigation sent out last year to South America to test the
assertions made by Professor Challenger as to the continued
existence of prehistoric life upon that Continent, was held
last night in the greater Queen's Hall, and it is safe to say
that it is likely to be a red letter date in the history of
Science, for the proceedings were of so remarkable and
sensational a character that no one present is ever likely to
forget them." (Oh, brother scribe Macdona, what a
monstrous opening sentence!) "The tickets were theoretically
confined to members and their friends, but the latter is an
elastic term, and long before eight o'clock, the hour fixed for
the commencement of the proceedings, all parts of the Great
Hall were tightly packed. The general public, however, which
most unreasonably entertained a grievance at having been
excluded, stormed the doors at a quarter to eight, after a
prolonged melee in which several people were injured,
including Inspector Scoble of H. Division, whose leg was
unfortunately broken. After this unwarrantable invasion,
which not only filled every passage, but even intruded upon
the space set apart for the Press, it is estimated that nearly
five thousand people awaited the arrival of the travelers.
When they eventually appeared, they took their places in the
front of a platform which already contained all the leading
scientific men, not only of this country, but of France and of
Germany. Sweden was also represented, in the person of
Professor Sergius, the famous Zoologist of the University of
Upsala. The entrance of the four heroes of the occasion was
the signal for a remarkable demonstration of welcome, the
whole audience rising and cheering for some minutes. An
acute observer might, however, have detected some signs of
dissent amid the applause, and gathered that the proceedings
were likely to become more lively than harmonious. It may
safely be prophesied, however, that no one could have
foreseen the extraordinary turn which they were actually to
take.

"Of the appearance of the four wanderers little need be

said, since their photographs have for some time been
appearing in all the papers. They bear few traces of the
hardships which they are said to have undergone. Professor
Challenger's beard may be more shaggy, Professor
Summerlee's features more ascetic, Lord John Roxton's figure
more gaunt, and all three may be burned to a darker tint
than when they left our shores, but each appeared to be in
most excellent health. As to our own representative, the well-
known athlete and international Rugby football player, E. D.
Malone, he looks trained to a hair, and as he surveyed the
crowd a smile of good-humored contentment pervaded his
honest but homely face." (All right, Mac, wait till I get you
alone!)

"When quiet had been restored and the audience resumed

their seats after the ovation which they had given to the
travelers, the chairman, the Duke of Durham, addressed the
meeting. 'He would not,' he said, 'stand for more than a
moment between that vast assembly and the treat which lay
before them. It was not for him to anticipate what Professor
Summerlee, who was the spokesman of the committee, had
to say to them, but it was common rumor that their
expedition had been crowned by extraordinary success.'
(Applause.) 'Apparently the age of romance was not dead,
and there was common ground upon which the wildest
imaginings of the novelist could meet the actual scientific
investigations of the searcher for truth. He would only add,
before he sat down, that he rejoiced—and all of them would
rejoice—that these gentlemen had returned safe and sound
from their difficult and dangerous task, for it cannot be
denied that any disaster to such an expedition would have
inflicted a well-nigh irreparable loss to the cause of
Zoological science.' (Great applause, in which Professor
Challenger was observed to join.)

"Professor Summerlee's rising was the signal for another

extraordinary outbreak of enthusiasm, which broke out again
at intervals throughout his address. That address will not be
given in extenso in these columns, for the reason that a full
account of the whole adventures of the expedition is being
published as a supplement from the pen of our own special
correspondent. Some general indications will therefore
suffice. Having described the genesis of their journey, and
paid a handsome tribute to his friend Professor Challenger,
coupled with an apology for the incredulity with which his
assertions, now fully vindicated, had been received, he gave
the actual course of their journey, carefully withholding such
information as would aid the public in any attempt to locate
this remarkable plateau. Having described, in general terms,
their course from the main river up to the time that they
actually reached the base of the cliffs, he enthralled his
hearers by his account of the difficulties encountered by the
expedition in their repeated attempts to mount them, and
finally described how they succeeded in their desperate
endeavors, which cost the lives of their two devoted half-
breed servants." (This amazing reading of the affair was the
result of Summerlee's endeavors to avoid raising any
questionable matter at the meeting.)

"Having conducted his audience in fancy to the summit,

and marooned them there by reason of the fall of their
bridge, the Professor proceeded to describe both the horrors
and the attractions of that remarkable land. Of personal
adventures he said little, but laid stress upon the rich harvest
reaped by Science in the observations of the wonderful beast,
bird, insect, and plant life of the plateau. Peculiarly rich in
the coleoptera and in the lepidoptera, forty-six new species
of the one and ninety-four of the other had been secured in
the course of a few weeks. It was, however, in the larger
animals, and especially in the larger animals supposed to
have been long extinct, that the interest of the public was
naturally centered. Of these he was able to give a goodly list,
but had little doubt that it would be largely extended when
the place had been more thoroughly investigated. He and his
companions had seen at least a dozen creatures, most of
them at a distance, which corresponded with nothing at
present known to Science. These would in time be duly
classified and examined. He instanced a snake, the cast skin
of which, deep purple in color, was fifty-one feet in length,
and mentioned a white creature, supposed to be mammalian,
which gave forth well-marked phosphorescence in the
darkness; also a large black moth, the bite of which was
supposed by the Indians to be highly poisonous. Setting
aside these entirely new forms of life, the plateau was very
rich in known prehistoric forms, dating back in some cases
to early Jurassic times. Among these he mentioned the
gigantic and grotesque stegosaurus, seen once by Mr. Malone
at a drinking-place by the lake, and drawn in the sketch-book
of that adventurous American who had first penetrated this
unknown world. He described also the iguanodon and the
pterodactyl—two of the first of the wonders which they had
encountered. He then thrilled the assembly by some account
of the terrible carnivorous dinosaurs, which had on more
than one occasion pursued members of the party, and which
were the most formidable of all the creatures which they had
encountered. Thence he passed to the huge and ferocious
bird, the phororachus, and to the great elk which still roams
upon this upland. It was not, however, until he sketched the
mysteries of the central lake that the full interest and
enthusiasm of the audience were aroused. One had to pinch
oneself to be sure that one was awake as one heard this sane
and practical Professor in cold measured tones describing the
monstrous three-eyed fish-lizards and the huge water-snakes
which inhabit this enchanted sheet of water. Next he
touched upon the Indians, and upon the extraordinary colony
of anthropoid apes, which might be looked upon as an
advance upon the pithecanthropus of Java, and as coming
therefore nearer than any known form to that hypothetical
creation, the missing link. Finally he described, amongst
some merriment, the ingenious but highly dangerous
aeronautic invention of Professor Challenger, and wound up
a most memorable address by an account of the methods by
which the committee did at last find their way back to
civilization.

"It had been hoped that the proceedings would end there,
and that a vote of thanks and congratulation, moved by
Professor Sergius, of Upsala University, would be duly
seconded and carried; but it was soon evident that the
course of events was not destined to flow so smoothly.
Symptoms of opposition had been evident from time to time
during the evening, and now Dr. James Illingworth, of
Edinburgh, rose in the center of the hall. Dr. Illingworth
asked whether an amendment should not be taken before a
resolution.
 "THE CHAIRMAN: 'Yes, sir, if there must be an
amendment.'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, there must be an

amendment.'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Then let us take it at once.'

"PROFESSOR SUMMERLEE (springing to his feet): 'Might

I explain, your Grace, that this man is my personal enemy
ever since our controversy in the Quarterly Journal of Science
as to the true nature of Bathybius?'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'I fear I cannot go into personal

matters. Proceed.'

"Dr. Illingworth was imperfectly heard in part of his

remarks on account of the strenuous opposition of the
friends of the explorers. Some attempts were also made to
pull him down. Being a man of enormous physique, however,
and possessed of a very powerful voice, he dominated the
tumult and succeeded in finishing his speech. It was clear,
from the moment of his rising, that he had a number of
friends and sympathizers in the hall, though they formed a
minority in the audience. The attitude of the greater part of
the public might be described as one of attentive neutrality.

"Dr. Illingworth began his remarks by expressing his high

appreciation of the scientific work both of Professor
Challenger and of Professor Summerlee. He much regretted
that any personal bias should have been read into his
remarks, which were entirely dictated by his desire for
scientific truth. His position, in fact, was substantially the
same as that taken up by Professor Summerlee at the last
meeting. At that last meeting Professor Challenger had made
certain assertions which had been queried by his colleague.
Now this colleague came forward himself with the same
assertions and expected them to remain unquestioned. Was
this reasonable? ('Yes,' 'No,' and prolonged interruption,
during which Professor Challenger was heard from the Press
box to ask leave from the chairman to put Dr. Illingworth
into the street.) A year ago one man said certain things. Now
four men said other and more startling ones. Was this to
constitute a final proof where the matters in question were of
the most revolutionary and incredible character? There had
been recent examples of travelers arriving from the unknown
with certain tales which had been too readily accepted. Was
the London Zoological Institute to place itself in this
position? He admitted that the members of the committee
were men of character. But human nature was very complex.
Even Professors might be misled by the desire for notoriety.
Like moths, we all love best to flutter in the light. Heavy-
game shots liked to be in a position to cap the tales of their
rivals, and journalists were not averse from sensational
coups, even when imagination had to aid fact in the process.
Each member of the committee had his own motive for
making the most of his results. ('Shame! shame!') He had no
desire to be offensive. ('You are!' and interruption.) The
corroboration of these wondrous tales was really of the most
slender description. What did it amount to? Some
photographs. {Was it possible that in this age of ingenious
manipulation photographs could be accepted as evidence?}
What more? We have a story of a flight and a descent by
ropes which precluded the production of larger specimens. It
was ingenious, but not convincing. It was understood that
Lord John Roxton claimed to have the skull of a phororachus.
He could only say that he would like to see that skull.

"LORD JOHN ROXTON: 'Is this fellow calling me a liar?'

(Uproar.)

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Order! order! Dr. Illingworth, I must

direct you to bring your remarks to a conclusion and to move
your amendment.'
 "DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, I have more to say,
but I bow to your ruling. I move, then, that, while Professor
Summerlee be thanked for his interesting address, the whole
matter shall be regarded as 'non-proven,' and shall be
referred back to a larger, and possibly more reliable
Committee of Investigation.'

"It is difficult to describe the confusion caused by this

amendment. A large section of the audience expressed their
indignation at such a slur upon the travelers by noisy shouts
of dissent and cries of, 'Don't put it!' 'Withdraw!' 'Turn him
out!' On the other hand, the malcontents—and it cannot be
denied that they were fairly numerous—cheered for the
amendment, with cries of 'Order!' 'Chair!' and 'Fair play!' A
scuffle broke out in the back benches, and blows were freely
exchanged among the medical students who crowded that
part of the hall. It was only the moderating influence of the
presence of large numbers of ladies which prevented an
absolute riot. Suddenly, however, there was a pause, a hush,
and then complete silence. Professor Challenger was on his
feet. His appearance and manner are peculiarly arresting,
and as he raised his hand for order the whole audience
settled down expectantly to give him a hearing.

"'It will be within the recollection of many present,' said

Professor Challenger, 'that similar foolish and unmannerly
scenes marked the last meeting at which I have been able to
address them. On that occasion Professor Summerlee was the
chief offender, and though he is now chastened and contrite,
the matter could not be entirely forgotten. I have heard to-
night similar, but even more offensive, sentiments from the
person who has just sat down, and though it is a conscious
effort of self-effacement to come down to that person's
mental level, I will endeavor to do so, in order to allay any
reasonable doubt which could possibly exist in the minds of
anyone.' (Laughter and interruption.) 'I need not remind this
audience that, though Professor Summerlee, as the head of
the Committee of Investigation, has been put up to speak to-
night, still it is I who am the real prime mover in this
business, and that it is mainly to me that any successful
result must be ascribed. I have safely conducted these three
gentlemen to the spot mentioned, and I have, as you have
heard, convinced them of the accuracy of my previous
account. We had hoped that we should find upon our return
that no one was so dense as to dispute our joint conclusions.
Warned, however, by my previous experience, I have not
come without such proofs as may convince a reasonable
man. As explained by Professor Summerlee, our cameras
have been tampered with by the ape-men when they
ransacked our camp, and most of our negatives ruined.'
(Jeers, laughter, and 'Tell us another!' from the back.) 'I have
mentioned the ape-men, and I cannot forbear from saying
that some of the sounds which now meet my ears bring back
most vividly to my recollection my experiences with those
interesting creatures.' (Laughter.) 'In spite of the destruction
of so many invaluable negatives, there still remains in our
collection a certain number of corroborative photographs
showing the conditions of life upon the plateau. Did they
accuse them of having forged these photographs?' (A voice,
'Yes,' and considerable interruption which ended in several
men being put out of the hall.) 'The negatives were open to
the inspection of experts. But what other evidence had they?
Under the conditions of their escape it was naturally
impossible to bring a large amount of baggage, but they had
rescued Professor Summerlee's collections of butterflies and
beetles, containing many new species. Was this not
evidence?' (Several voices, 'No.') 'Who said no?'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH (rising): 'Our point is that such a

collection might have been made in other places than a
prehistoric plateau.' (Applause.)

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'No doubt, sir, we have to

bow to your scientific authority, although I must admit that
the name is unfamiliar. Passing, then, both the photographs
and the entomological collection, I come to the varied and
accurate information which we bring with us upon points
which have never before been elucidated. For example, upon
the domestic habits of the pterodactyl—'(A voice: 'Bosh,' and
uproar)—'I say, that upon the domestic habits of the
pterodactyl we can throw a flood of light. I can exhibit to
you from my portfolio a picture of that creature taken from
life which would convince you——'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'No picture could convince us of

anything.'

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'You would require to see

the thing itself?'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Undoubtedly.'

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'And you would accept

that?'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH (laughing): 'Beyond a doubt.'

"It was at this point that the sensation of the evening

arose—a sensation so dramatic that it can never have been
paralleled in the history of scientific gatherings. Professor
Challenger raised his hand in the air as a signal, and at once
our colleague, Mr. E. D. Malone, was observed to rise and to
make his way to the back of the platform. An instant later he
re-appeared in company of a gigantic negro, the two of them
bearing between them a large square packing-case. It was
evidently of great weight, and was slowly carried forward
and placed in front of the Professor's chair. All sound had
hushed in the audience and everyone was absorbed in the
spectacle before them. Professor Challenger drew off the top
of the case, which formed a sliding lid. Peering down into
the box he snapped his fingers several times and was heard
from the Press seat to say, 'Come, then, pretty, pretty!' in a
coaxing voice. An instant later, with a scratching, rattling
sound, a most horrible and loathsome creature appeared
from below and perched itself upon the side of the case.
Even the unexpected fall of the Duke of Durham into the
orchestra, which occurred at this moment, could not distract
the petrified attention of the vast audience. The face of the
creature was like the wildest gargoyle that the imagination of
a mad medieval builder could have conceived. It was
malicious, horrible, with two small red eyes as bright as
points of burning coal. Its long, savage mouth, which was
held half-open, was full of a double row of shark-like teeth.
Its shoulders were humped, and round them were draped
what appeared to be a faded gray shawl. It was the devil of
our childhood in person. There was a turmoil in the
audience—someone screamed, two ladies in the front row
fell senseless from their chairs, and there was a general
movement upon the platform to follow their chairman into
the orchestra. For a moment there was danger of a general
panic. Professor Challenger threw up his hands to still the
commotion, but the movement alarmed the creature beside
him. Its strange shawl suddenly unfurled, spread, and
fluttered as a pair of leathery wings. Its owner grabbed at its
legs, but too late to hold it. It had sprung from the perch and
was circling slowly round the Queen's Hall with a dry,
leathery flapping of its ten-foot wings, while a putrid and
insidious odor pervaded the room. The cries of the people in
the galleries, who were alarmed at the near approach of
those glowing eyes and that murderous beak, excited the
creature to a frenzy. Faster and faster it flew, beating against
walls and chandeliers in a blind frenzy of alarm. 'The
window! For heaven's sake shut that window!' roared the
Professor from the platform, dancing and wringing his hands
in an agony of apprehension. Alas, his warning was too late!
In a moment the creature, beating and bumping along the
wall like a huge moth within a gas-shade, came upon the
opening, squeezed its hideous bulk through it, and was gone.
Professor Challenger fell back into his chair with his face
buried in his hands, while the audience gave one long, deep
sigh of relief as they realized that the incident was over.

"Then—oh! how shall one describe what took place

then—when the full exuberance of the majority and the full
reaction of the minority united to make one great wave of
enthusiasm, which rolled from the back of the hall, gathering
volume as it came, swept over the orchestra, submerged the
platform, and carried the four heroes away upon its crest?"
(Good for you, Mac!) "If the audience had done less than
justice, surely it made ample amends. Every one was on his
feet. Every one was moving, shouting, gesticulating. A dense
crowd of cheering men were round the four travelers. 'Up
with them! up with them!' cried a hundred voices. In a
moment four figures shot up above the crowd. In vain they
strove to break loose. They were held in their lofty places of
honor. It would have been hard to let them down if it had
been wished, so dense was the crowd around them. 'Regent
Street! Regent Street!' sounded the voices. There was a swirl
in the packed multitude, and a slow current, bearing the four
upon their shoulders, made for the door. Out in the street
the scene was extraordinary. An assemblage of not less than
a hundred thousand people was waiting. The close-packed
throng extended from the other side of the Langham Hotel to
Oxford Circus. A roar of acclamation greeted the four
adventurers as they appeared, high above the heads of the
people, under the vivid electric lamps outside the hall. 'A
procession! A procession!' was the cry. In a dense phalanx,
blocking the streets from side to side, the crowd set forth,
taking the route of Regent Street, Pall Mall, St. James's
Street, and Piccadilly. The whole central traffic of London
was held up, and many collisions were reported between the
demonstrators upon the one side and the police and taxi-
cabmen upon the other. Finally, it was not until after
midnight that the four travelers were released at the entrance
to Lord John Roxton's chambers in the Albany, and that the
exuberant crowd, having sung 'They are Jolly Good Fellows'
in chorus, concluded their program with 'God Save the King.'
So ended one of the most remarkable evenings that London
has seen for a considerable time."

So far my friend Macdona; and it may be taken as a

fairly accurate, if florid, account of the proceedings. As to
the main incident, it was a bewildering surprise to the
audience, but not, I need hardly say, to us. The reader will
remember how I met Lord John Roxton upon the very
occasion when, in his protective crinoline, he had gone to
bring the "Devil's chick" as he called it, for Professor
Challenger. I have hinted also at the trouble which the
Professor's baggage gave us when we left the plateau, and
had I described our voyage I might have said a good deal of
the worry we had to coax with putrid fish the appetite of our
filthy companion. If I have not said much about it before, it
was, of course, that the Professor's earnest desire was that
no possible rumor of the unanswerable argument which we
carried should be allowed to leak out until the moment came
when his enemies were to be confuted.

One word as to the fate of the London pterodactyl.

Nothing can be said to be certain upon this point. There is
the evidence of two frightened women that it perched upon
the roof of the Queen's Hall and remained there like a
diabolical statue for some hours. The next day it came out in
the evening papers that Private Miles, of the Coldstream
Guards, on duty outside Marlborough House, had deserted
his post without leave, and was therefore courtmartialed.
Private Miles' account, that he dropped his rifle and took to
his heels down the Mall because on looking up he had
suddenly seen the devil between him and the moon, was not
accepted by the Court, and yet it may have a direct bearing
upon the point at issue. The only other evidence which I can
adduce is from the log of the SS. Friesland, a Dutch-
American liner, which asserts that at nine next morning,
Start Point being at the time ten miles upon their starboard
quarter, they were passed by something between a flying
goat and a monstrous bat, which was heading at a prodigious
pace south and west. If its homing instinct led it upon the
right line, there can be no doubt that somewhere out in the
wastes of the Atlantic the last European pterodactyl found its
end.

And Gladys—oh, my Gladys!—Gladys of the mystic lake,

now to be re-named the Central, for never shall she have
immortality through me. Did I not always see some hard
fiber in her nature? Did I not, even at the time when I was
proud to obey her behest, feel that it was surely a poor love
which could drive a lover to his death or the danger of it?
Did I not, in my truest thoughts, always recurring and
always dismissed, see past the beauty of the face, and,
peering into the soul, discern the twin shadows of selfishness
and of fickleness glooming at the back of it? Did she love the
heroic and the spectacular for its own noble sake, or was it
for the glory which might, without effort or sacrifice, be
reflected upon herself? Or are these thoughts the vain
wisdom which comes after the event? It was the shock of my
life. For a moment it had turned me to a cynic. But already,
as I write, a week has passed, and we have had our
momentous interview with Lord John Roxton and—well,
perhaps things might be worse.

Let me tell it in a few words. No letter or telegram had

come to me at Southampton, and I reached the little villa at
Streatham about ten o'clock that night in a fever of alarm.
Was she dead or alive? Where were all my nightly dreams of
the open arms, the smiling face, the words of praise for her
man who had risked his life to humor her whim? Already I
was down from the high peaks and standing flat-footed upon
earth. Yet some good reasons given might still lift me to the
clouds once more. I rushed down the garden path, hammered
at the door, heard the voice of Gladys within, pushed past
the staring maid, and strode into the sitting-room. She was
seated in a low settee under the shaded standard lamp by
the piano. In three steps I was across the room and had both
her hands in mine.

"Gladys!" I cried, "Gladys!"

She looked up with amazement in her face. She was

altered in some subtle way. The expression of her eyes, the
hard upward stare, the set of the lips, was new to me. She
drew back her hands.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Gladys!" I cried. "What is the matter? You are my

Gladys, are you not—little Gladys Hungerton?"

"No," said she, "I am Gladys Potts. Let me introduce you

to my husband."

How absurd life is! I found myself mechanically bowing

and shaking hands with a little ginger-haired man who was
coiled up in the deep arm-chair which had once been sacred
to my own use. We bobbed and grinned in front of each
other.

"Father lets us stay here. We are getting our house

ready," said Gladys.

"Oh, yes," said I.

"You didn't get my letter at Para, then?"

"No, I got no letter."

"Oh, what a pity! It would have made all clear."

"It is quite clear," said I.

 "I've told William all about you," said she. "We have no
secrets. I am so sorry about it. But it couldn't have been so
very deep, could it, if you could go off to the other end of
the world and leave me here alone. You're not crabby, are
you?"

"No, no, not at all. I think I'll go."

"Have some refreshment," said the little man, and he

added, in a confidential way, "It's always like this, ain't it?
And must be unless you had polygamy, only the other way
round; you understand." He laughed like an idiot, while I
made for the door.

I was through it, when a sudden fantastic impulse came

upon me, and I went back to my successful rival, who looked
nervously at the electric push.

"Will you answer a question?" I asked.

"Well, within reason," said he.

"How did you do it? Have you searched for hidden

treasure, or discovered a pole, or done time on a pirate, or
flown the Channel, or what? Where is the glamour of
romance? How did you get it?"

He stared at me with a hopeless expression upon his

vacuous, good-natured, scrubby little face.

"Don't you think all this is a little too personal?" he said.

"Well, just one question," I cried. "What are you? What is

your profession?"

"I am a solicitor's clerk," said he. "Second man at Johnson

and Merivale's, 41 Chancery Lane."
 "Good-night!" said I, and vanished, like all disconsolate
and broken-hearted heroes, into the darkness, with grief and
rage and laughter all simmering within me like a boiling pot.

One more little scene, and I have done. Last night we all
supped at Lord John Roxton's rooms, and sitting together
afterwards we smoked in good comradeship and talked our
adventures over. It was strange under these altered
surroundings to see the old, well-known faces and figures.
There was Challenger, with his smile of condescension, his
drooping eyelids, his intolerant eyes, his aggressive beard,
his huge chest, swelling and puffing as he laid down the law
to Summerlee. And Summerlee, too, there he was with his
short briar between his thin moustache and his gray goat's-
beard, his worn face protruded in eager debate as he queried
all Challenger's propositions. Finally, there was our host,
with his rugged, eagle face, and his cold, blue, glacier eyes
with always a shimmer of devilment and of humor down in
the depths of them. Such is the last picture of them that I
have carried away.

It was after supper, in his own sanctum—the room of the

pink radiance and the innumerable trophies—that Lord John
Roxton had something to say to us. From a cupboard he had
brought an old cigar-box, and this he laid before him on the
table.

"There's one thing," said he, "that maybe I should have

spoken about before this, but I wanted to know a little more
clearly where I was. No use to raise hopes and let them
down again. But it's facts, not hopes, with us now. You may
remember that day we found the pterodactyl rookery in the
swamp—what? Well, somethin' in the lie of the land took my
notice. Perhaps it has escaped you, so I will tell you. It was a
volcanic vent full of blue clay." The Professors nodded.
 "Well, now, in the whole world I've only had to do with
one place that was a volcanic vent of blue clay. That was the
great De Beers Diamond Mine of Kimberley—what? So you
see I got diamonds into my head. I rigged up a contraption to
hold off those stinking beasts, and I spent a happy day there
with a spud. This is what I got."

He opened his cigar-box, and tilting it over he poured

about twenty or thirty rough stones, varying from the size of
beans to that of chestnuts, on the table.

"Perhaps you think I should have told you then. Well, so

I should, only I know there are a lot of traps for the unwary,
and that stones may be of any size and yet of little value
where color and consistency are clean off. Therefore, I
brought them back, and on the first day at home I took one
round to Spink's, and asked him to have it roughly cut and
valued."

He took a pill-box from his pocket, and spilled out of it a

beautiful glittering diamond, one of the finest stones that I
have ever seen.

"There's the result," said he. "He prices the lot at a

minimum of two hundred thousand pounds. Of course it is
fair shares between us. I won't hear of anythin' else. Well,
Challenger, what will you do with your fifty thousand?"

"If you really persist in your generous view," said the

Professor, "I should found a private museum, which has long
been one of my dreams."

"And you, Summerlee?"

"I would retire from teaching, and so find time for my

final classification of the chalk fossils."
 "I'll use my own," said Lord John Roxton, "in fitting a
well-formed expedition and having another look at the dear
old plateau. As to you, young fellah, you, of course, will
spend yours in gettin' married."

"Not just yet," said I, with a rueful smile. "I think, if you
will have me, that I would rather go with you."

Lord Roxton said nothing, but a brown hand was

stretched out to me across the table.

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