



Produced by Judith Boss.  HTML version by Al Haines.










                          THE LOST WORLD

                   I have wrought my simple plan
                    If I give one hour of joy
                  To the boy who's half a man,
                    Or the man who's half a boy.



                          The Lost World


                                By

                     SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

                         COPYRIGHT, 1912



                             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          libel action have been withdrawn unreservedly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.





                             Contents

CHAPTER

    I.  "THERE ARE HEROISMS ALL ROUND US"
   II.  "TRY YOUR LUCK WITH PROFESSOR CHALLENGER"
  III.  "HE IS A PERFECTLY IMPOSSIBLE PERSON"
   IV.  "IT'S JUST THE VERY BIGGEST THING IN THE WORLD"
    V.  "QUESTION!"
   VI.  "I WAS THE FLAIL OF THE LORD"
  VII.  "TO-MORROW WE DISAPPEAR INTO THE UNKNOWN"
 VIII.  "THE OUTLYING PICKETS OF THE NEW WORLD"
   IX.  "WHO COULD HAVE FORESEEN IT?"
    X.  "THE MOST WONDERFUL THINGS HAVE HAPPENED"
   XI.  "FOR ONCE I WAS THE HERO"
  XII.  "IT WAS DREADFUL IN THE FOREST"
 XIII.  "A SIGHT I SHALL NEVER FORGET"
  XIV.  "THOSE WERE THE REAL CONQUESTS"
   XV.  "OUR EYES HAVE SEEN GREAT WONDERS"
  XVI.  "A PROCESSION!  A PROCESSION!"




                          THE LOST WORLD




                          The Lost World

                            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.




                            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."




                           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.




                            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!"

He took her down as if she had been a canary.

"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
 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-.  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.




                            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.




                           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 hospitable 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
<DW64> 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 <DW64>, 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  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
<DW64> 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  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 <DW52> 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 <DW72> 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 <DW72> 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  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 <DW72>s 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
<DW72> 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 <DW72>, 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- 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 <DW64>.  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 <DW64>.
"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!




                            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 <DW64>, 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-<DW52> 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- 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-
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- 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
<DW8> 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 <DW19>s.

"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- 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-<DW52> 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- 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 <DW72>s
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, <DW72>s 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 <DW72> 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."




                           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 <DW72> 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 <DW72>s 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-
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 <DW72>, 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--<DW38>s, 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.




                           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 <DW64>.  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- 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- 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 <DW72> 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 <DW72> 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 <DW64> 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 <DW19> 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 <DW72> 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.




                           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 <DW64>, 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.









End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost World, by Arthur Conan Doyle

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