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Title: The Lost World

Author: Arthur Conan Doyle

Release date: June 1, 1994 [eBook #139]
Most recently updated: December 6, 2024

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/139

Credits: Produced by Judith Boss. HTML version by Al Haines.

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST
WORLD ***

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and the libel action have been withdrawn unreservedly by Professor G. E.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 colored chalks, some
brushes, that curved bone which lies upon my inkstand, a volume of
Baxter's 'Moths and Butterflies,' a cheap revolver, and a few cartridges. Of
personal equipment he either had none or he had lost it in his journey. Such
were the total effects of this strange American Bohemian.

"I was turning away from him when I observed that something projected
from the front of his ragged jacket. It was this sketch-book, which was as
dilapidated then as you see it now. Indeed, I can assure you that a first folio
of Shakespeare could not be treated with greater reverence than this relic
has been since it came into my possession. I hand it to you now, and I ask
you to take it page by page and to examine the contents."

He helped himself to a cigar and leaned back with a fiercely critical pair
of eyes, taking note of the effect which this document would produce.

I had opened the volume with some expectation of a revelation, though
of what nature I could not imagine. The first page was disappointing,
however, as it contained nothing but the picture of a very fat man in a pea-
jacket, with the legend, "Jimmy Colver on the Mail-boat," written beneath
it. There followed several pages which were filled with small sketches of

Indians and their ways. Then came a picture of a cheerful and corpulent
ecclesiastic in a shovel hat, sitting opposite a very thin European, and the
inscription: "Lunch with Fra Cristofero at Rosario." Studies of women and
babies accounted for several more pages, and then there was an unbroken
series of animal drawings with such explanations as "Manatee upon
Sandbank," "Turtles and Their Eggs," "Black Ajouti under a Miriti Palm"—
the matter disclosing some sort of pig-like animal; and finally came a
double page of studies of long-snouted and very unpleasant saurians. I
could make nothing of it, and said so to the Professor.

"Surely these are only crocodiles?"

"Alligators! Alligators! There is hardly such a thing as a true crocodile in
South America. The distinction between them——"

"I meant that I could see nothing unusual—nothing to justify what you
have said."

He smiled serenely.

"Try the next page," said he.

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

"Well?" he asked.

"It is no doubt a curious formation," said I "but I am not geologist
enough to say that it is wonderful."

"Wonderful!" he repeated. "It is unique. It is incredible. No one on earth
has ever dreamed of such a possibility. Now the next."

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

"Well, what do you think of that?" cried the Professor, rubbing his hands
with an air of triumph.

"It is monstrous—grotesque."

"But what made him draw such an animal?"

"Trade gin, I should think."

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

"Well, sir, what is yours?"

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

I should have laughed only that I had a vision of our doing another
Catharine-wheel down the passage.

"No doubt," said I, "no doubt," as one humors an imbecile. "I confess,
however," I added, "that this tiny human figure puzzles me. If it were an
Indian we could set it down as evidence of some pigmy race in America,
but it appears to be a European in a sun-hat."

The Professor snorted like an angry buffalo. "You really touch the limit,"
said he. "You enlarge my view of the possible. Cerebral paresis! Mental
inertia! Wonderful!"

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

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

"Good heavens!" I cried. "Then you think the beast was—— Why,
Charing Cross station would hardly make a kennel for such a brute!"

"Apart from exaggeration, he is certainly a well-grown specimen," said
the Professor, complacently.

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

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

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

He handed me the open book. I started as I looked at the picture. In this
reconstructed animal of a dead world there was certainly a very great
resemblance to the sketch of the unknown artist.

"That is certainly remarkable," said I.

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

"Surely it might be a coincidence, or this American may have seen a
picture of the kind and carried it in his memory. It would be likely to recur
to a man in a delirium."

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

"To what known creature does that bone belong?" asked the Professor.

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

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

My companion waved his hand in contemptuous deprecation.

"The human collar-bone is curved. This is straight. There is a groove
upon its surface showing that a great tendon played across it, which could
not be the case with a clavicle."

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

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

"Surely in an elephant——"

He winced as if in pain.

"Don't! Don't talk of elephants in South America. Even in these days of
Board schools——"

"Well," I interrupted, "any large South American animal—a tapir, for
example."

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

"I am at least deeply interested."

"Then your case is not hopeless. I feel that there is reason lurking in you
somewhere, so we will patiently grope round for it. We will now leave the
dead American and proceed with my narrative. You can imagine that I could
hardly come away from the Amazon without probing deeper into the matter.
There were indications as to the direction from which the dead traveler had
come. Indian legends would alone have been my guide, for I found that
rumors of a strange land were common among all the riverine tribes. You
have heard, no doubt, of Curupuri?"

"Never."

"Curupuri is the spirit of the woods, something terrible, something
malevolent, something to be avoided. None can describe its shape or nature,
but it is a word of terror along the Amazon. Now all tribes agree as to the
direction in which Curupuri lives. It was the same direction from which the
American had come. Something terrible lay that way. It was my business to
find out what it was."

"What did you do?" My flippancy was all gone. This massive man
compelled one's attention and respect.

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

He handed me a photograph—half-plate size.

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

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

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

"It is the same place," the Professor answered. "I found traces of the
fellow's camp. Now look at this."

It was a nearer view of the same scene, though the photograph was
extremely defective. I could distinctly see the isolated, tree-crowned
pinnacle of rock which was detached from the crag.

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

"Well, that is something gained," said he. "We progress, do we not?
Now, will you please look at the top of that rocky pinnacle? Do you observe

something there?"

"An enormous tree."

"But on the tree?"

"A large bird," said I.

He handed me a lens.

"Yes," I said, peering through it, "a large bird stands on the tree. It
appears to have a considerable beak. I should say it was a pelican."

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

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

"I had it. It was unfortunately lost with so much else in the same boat
accident which ruined my photographs. I clutched at it as it disappeared in
the swirl of the rapids, and part of its wing was left in my hand. I was
insensible when washed ashore, but the miserable remnant of my superb
specimen was still intact; I now lay it before you."

From a drawer he produced what seemed to me to be the upper portion
of the wing of a large bat. It was at least two feet in length, a curved bone,
with a membranous veil beneath it.

"A monstrous bat!" I suggested.

"Nothing of the sort," said the Professor, severely. "Living, as I do, in an
educated and scientific atmosphere, I could not have conceived that the first
principles of zoology were so little known. Is it possible that you do not
know the elementary fact in comparative anatomy, that the wing of a bird is
really the forearm, while the wing of a bat consists of three elongated
fingers with membranes between? Now, in this case, the bone is certainly
not the forearm, and you can see for yourself that this is a single membrane

hanging upon a single bone, and therefore that it cannot belong to a bat. But
if it is neither bird nor bat, what is it?"

My small stock of knowledge was exhausted.

"I really do not know," said I.

He opened the standard work to which he had already referred me.

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

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

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

The Professor purred with satisfaction.

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

"It was the wet season, Mr. Malone, and my stores were exhausted. I
explored some portion of this huge cliff, but I was unable to find any way to
scale it. The pyramidal rock upon which I saw and shot the pterodactyl was
more accessible. Being something of a cragsman, I did manage to get half
way to the top of that. From that height I had a better idea of the plateau

upon the top of the crags. It appeared to be very large; neither to east nor to
west could I see any end to the vista of green-capped cliffs. Below, it is a
swampy, jungly region, full of snakes, insects, and fever. It is a natural
protection to this singular country."

"Did you see any other trace of life?"

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

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

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

"But how did they come to be there?"

"I do not think that the problem is a very obscure one," said the
Professor; "there can only be one explanation. South America is, as you
may have heard, a granite continent. At this single point in the interior there
has been, in some far distant age, a great, sudden volcanic upheaval. These
cliffs, I may remark, are basaltic, and therefore plutonic. An area, as large
perhaps as Sussex, has been lifted up en bloc with all its living contents,
and cut off by perpendicular precipices of a hardness which defies erosion
from all the rest of the continent. What is the result? Why, the ordinary laws
of Nature are suspended. The various checks which influence the struggle
for existence in the world at large are all neutralized or altered. Creatures
survive which would otherwise disappear. You will observe that both the
pterodactyl and the stegosaurus are Jurassic, and therefore of a great age in
the order of life. They have been artificially conserved by those strange
accidental conditions."

"But surely your evidence is conclusive. You have only to lay it before
the proper authorities."

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

I nursed my eye and was silent.

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

"And I may come?" I asked eagerly.

"Why, surely," he answered, cordially. He had an enormously massive
genial manner, which was almost as overpowering as his violence. His
smile of benevolence was a wonderful thing, when his cheeks would
suddenly bunch into two red apples, between his half-closed eyes and his
great black beard. "By all means, come. It will be a comfort to me to know
that I have one ally in the hall, however inefficient and ignorant of the
subject he may be. I fancy there will be a large audience, for Waldron,
though an absolute charlatan, has a considerable popular following. Now,

Mr. Malone, I have given you rather more of my time than I had intended.
The individual must not monopolize what is meant for the world. I shall be
pleased to see you at the lecture to-night. In the meantime, you will
understand that no public use is to be made of any of the material that I
have given you."

"But Mr. McArdle—my news editor, you know—will want to know
what I have done."

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

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 negro
named Zambo, who is a black Hercules, as willing as any horse, and about
as intelligent. Him we enlisted at Para, on the recommendation of the
steamship company, on whose vessels he had learned to speak a halting
English.

It was at Para also that we engaged Gomez and Manuel, two half-breeds
from up the river, just come down with a cargo of redwood. They were
swarthy fellows, bearded and fierce, as active and wiry as panthers. Both of
them had spent their lives in those upper waters of the Amazon which we
were about to explore, and it was this recommendation which had caused
Lord John to engage them. One of them, Gomez, had the further advantage
that he could speak excellent English. These men were willing to act as our
personal servants, to cook, to row, or to make themselves useful in any way
at a payment of fifteen dollars a month. Besides these, we had engaged
three Mojo Indians from Bolivia, who are the most skilful at fishing and
boat work of all the river tribes. The chief of these we called Mojo, after his
tribe, and the others are known as Jose and Fernando. Three white men,
then, two half-breeds, one negro, and three Indians made up the personnel
of the little expedition which lay waiting for its instructions at Manaos
before starting upon its singular quest.

At last, after a weary week, the day had come and the hour. I ask you to
picture the shaded sitting-room of the Fazenda St. Ignatio, two miles inland
from the town of Manaos. Outside lay the yellow, brassy glare of the
sunshine, with the shadows of the palm trees as black and definite as the
trees themselves. The air was calm, full of the eternal hum of insects, a
tropical chorus of many octaves, from the deep drone of the bee to the high,
keen pipe of the mosquito. Beyond the veranda was a small cleared garden,
bounded with cactus hedges and adorned with clumps of flowering shrubs,
round which the great blue butterflies and the tiny humming-birds fluttered
and darted in crescents of sparkling light. Within we were seated round the

cane table, on which lay a sealed envelope. Inscribed upon it, in the jagged
handwriting of Professor Challenger, were the words:—

"Instructions to Lord John Roxton and party. To be opened at Manaos
upon July 15th, at 12 o'clock precisely."

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

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

Professor Summerlee gave an acid smile as he picked up the envelope in
his gaunt hand.

"What can it possibly matter whether we open it now or in seven
minutes?" said he. "It is all part and parcel of the same system of quackery
and nonsense, for which I regret to say that the writer is notorious."

"Oh, come, we must play the game accordin' to rules," said Lord John.
"It's old man Challenger's show and we are here by his good will, so it
would be rotten bad form if we didn't follow his instructions to the letter."

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

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

bewildered silence, which was broken by a discordant burst of derisive
laughter from Professor Summerlee.

"It is an open admission," he cried. "What more do you want? The
fellow is a self-confessed humbug. We have only to return home and report
him as the brazen imposter that he is."

"Invisible ink!" I suggested.

"I don't think!" said Lord Roxton, holding the paper to the light. "No,
young fellah my lad, there is no use deceiving yourself. I'll go bail for it that
nothing has ever been written upon this paper."

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

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

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

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

Instead of answering, Professor Challenger entered, shook hands with
myself and Lord John, bowed with ponderous insolence to Professor

Summerlee, and sank back into a basket-chair, which creaked and swayed
beneath his weight.

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

"We can start to-morrow."

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

"Not from me, sir!" exclaimed Professor Summerlee, heartily. "So long
as there was another ship upon the Atlantic."

Challenger waved him away with his great hairy hand.

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

Lord John Roxton has chartered a large steam launch, the Esmeralda,
which was to carry us up the river. So far as climate goes, it was immaterial
what time we chose for our expedition, as the temperature ranges from
seventy-five to ninety degrees both summer and winter, with no appreciable
difference in heat. In moisture, however, it is otherwise; from December to
May is the period of the rains, and during this time the river slowly rises

until it attains a height of nearly forty feet above its low-water mark. It
floods the banks, extends in great lagoons over a monstrous waste of
country, and forms a huge district, called locally the Gapo, which is for the
most part too marshy for foot-travel and too shallow for boating. About
June the waters begin to fall, and are at their lowest at October or
November. Thus our expedition was at the time of the dry season, when the
great river and its tributaries were more or less in a normal condition.

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

It was August 2nd when we snapped our last link with the outer world by
bidding farewell to the Esmeralda. Since then four days have passed, during
which we have engaged two large canoes from the Indians, made of so light
a material (skins over a bamboo framework) that we should be able to carry
them round any obstacle. These we have loaded with all our effects, and
have engaged two additional Indians to help us in the navigation. I
understand that they are the very two—Ataca and Ipetu by name—who
accompanied Professor Challenger upon his previous journey. They
appeared to be terrified at the prospect of repeating it, but the chief has
patriarchal powers in these countries, and if the bargain is good in his eyes
the clansman has little choice in the matter.

So to-morrow we disappear into the unknown. This account I am
transmitting down the river by canoe, and it may be our last word to those
who are interested in our fate. I have, according to our arrangement,
addressed it to you, my dear Mr. McArdle, and I leave it to your discretion
to delete, alter, or do what you like with it. From the assurance of Professor
Challenger's manner—and in spite of the continued scepticism of Professor
Summerlee—I have no doubt that our leader will make good his statement,
and that we are really on the eve of some most remarkable experiences.

CHAPTER VIII

"The Outlying Pickets of the New World"

Our friends at home may well rejoice with us, for we are at our goal, and
up to a point, at least, we have shown that the statement of Professor
Challenger can be verified. We have not, it is true, ascended the plateau, but
it lies before us, and even Professor Summerlee is in a more chastened
mood. Not that he will for an instant admit that his rival could be right, but
he is less persistent in his incessant objections, and has sunk for the most
part into an observant silence. I must hark back, however, and continue my
narrative from where I dropped it. We are sending home one of our local

Indians who is injured, and I am committing this letter to his charge, with
considerable doubts in my mind as to whether it will ever come to hand.

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

The very next day we did actually make our start upon this remarkable
expedition. We found that all our possessions fitted very easily into the two
canoes, and we divided our personnel, six in each, taking the obvious

precaution in the interests of peace of putting one Professor into each canoe.
Personally, I was with Challenger, who was in a beatific humor, moving
about as one in a silent ecstasy and beaming benevolence from every
feature. I have had some experience of him in other moods, however, and
shall be the less surprised when the thunderstorms suddenly come up amidst
the sunshine. If it is impossible to be at your ease, it is equally impossible to
be dull in his company, for one is always in a state of half-tremulous doubt
as to what sudden turn his formidable temper may take.

For two days we made our way up a good-sized river some hundreds of
yards broad, and dark in color, but transparent, so that one could usually see
the bottom. The affluents of the Amazon are, half of them, of this nature,
while the other half are whitish and opaque, the difference depending upon
the class of country through which they have flowed. The dark indicate
vegetable decay, while the others point to clayey soil. Twice we came
across rapids, and in each case made a portage of half a mile or so to avoid
them. The woods on either side were primeval, which are more easily
penetrated than woods of the second growth, and we had no great difficulty
in carrying our canoes through them. How shall I ever forget the solemn
mystery of it? The height of the trees and the thickness of the boles
exceeded anything which I in my town-bred life could have imagined,
shooting upwards in magnificent columns until, at an enormous distance
above our heads, we could dimly discern the spot where they threw out
their side-branches into Gothic upward curves which coalesced to form one
great matted roof of verdure, through which only an occasional golden ray
of sunshine shot downwards to trace a thin dazzling line of light amidst the
majestic obscurity. As we walked noiselessly amid the thick, soft carpet of
decaying vegetation the hush fell upon our souls which comes upon us in
the twilight of the Abbey, and even Professor Challenger's full-chested
notes sank into a whisper. Alone, I should have been ignorant of the names
of these giant growths, but our men of science pointed out the cedars, the
great silk cotton trees, and the redwood trees, with all that profusion of
various plants which has made this continent the chief supplier to the
human race of those gifts of Nature which depend upon the vegetable
world, while it is the most backward in those products which come from
animal life. Vivid orchids and wonderful colored lichens smoldered upon
the swarthy tree-trunks and where a wandering shaft of light fell full upon

the golden allamanda, the scarlet star-clusters of the tacsonia, or the rich
deep blue of ipomaea, the effect was as a dream of fairyland. In these great
wastes of forest, life, which abhors darkness, struggles ever upwards to the
light. Every plant, even the smaller ones, curls and writhes to the green
surface, twining itself round its stronger and taller brethren in the effort.
Climbing plants are monstrous and luxuriant, but others which have never
been known to climb elsewhere learn the art as an escape from that somber
shadow, so that the common nettle, the jasmine, and even the jacitara palm
tree can be seen circling the stems of the cedars and striving to reach their
crowns. Of animal life there was no movement amid the majestic vaulted
aisles which stretched from us as we walked, but a constant movement far
above our heads told of that multitudinous world of snake and monkey, bird
and sloth, which lived in the sunshine, and looked down in wonder at our
tiny, dark, stumbling figures in the obscure depths immeasurably below
them. At dawn and at sunset the howler monkeys screamed together and the
parrakeets broke into shrill chatter, but during the hot hours of the day only
the full drone of insects, like the beat of a distant surf, filled the ear, while
nothing moved amid the solemn vistas of stupendous trunks, fading away
into the darkness which held us in. Once some bandy-legged, lurching
creature, an ant-eater or a bear, scuttled clumsily amid the shadows. It was
the only sign of earth life which I saw in this great Amazonian forest.

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

"What is it, then?" I asked.

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

"Yes, sir, war drums," said Gomez, the half-breed. "Wild Indians, bravos,
not mansos; they watch us every mile of the way; kill us if they can."

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

The half-breed shrugged his broad shoulders.

"The Indians know. They have their own way. They watch us. They talk
the drum talk to each other. Kill us if they can."

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

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

"Miranha or Amajuaca cannibals," said Challenger, jerking his thumb
towards the reverberating wood.

"No doubt, sir," Summerlee answered. "Like all such tribes, I shall
expect to find them of poly-synthetic speech and of Mongolian type."

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

"I should have thought that even a limited knowledge of comparative
anatomy would have helped to verify it," said Summerlee, bitterly.

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

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

It was in the early forenoon of the next day that we made the great
departure. Since dawn Professor Challenger had been acutely uneasy,
continually scanning each bank of the river. Suddenly he gave an

exclamation of satisfaction and pointed to a single tree, which projected at a
peculiar angle over the side of the stream.

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

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

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

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

For a fairyland it was—the most wonderful that the imagination of man
could conceive. The thick vegetation met overhead, interlacing into a
natural pergola, and through this tunnel of verdure in a golden twilight
flowed the green, pellucid river, beautiful in itself, but marvelous from the
strange tints thrown by the vivid light from above filtered and tempered in
its fall. Clear as crystal, motionless as a sheet of glass, green as the edge of
an iceberg, it stretched in front of us under its leafy archway, every stroke of
our paddles sending a thousand ripples across its shining surface. It was a
fitting avenue to a land of wonders. All sign of the Indians had passed away,
but animal life was more frequent, and the tameness of the creatures
showed that they knew nothing of the hunter. Fuzzy little black-velvet
monkeys, with snow-white teeth and gleaming, mocking eyes, chattered at
us as we passed. With a dull, heavy splash an occasional cayman plunged in
from the bank. Once a dark, clumsy tapir stared at us from a gap in the
bushes, and then lumbered away through the forest; once, too, the yellow,

sinuous form of a great puma whisked amid the brushwood, and its green,
baleful eyes glared hatred at us over its tawny shoulder. Bird life was
abundant, especially the wading birds, stork, heron, and ibis gathering in
little groups, blue, scarlet, and white, upon every log which jutted from the
bank, while beneath us the crystal water was alive with fish of every shape
and color.

For three days we made our way up this tunnel of hazy green sunshine.
On the longer stretches one could hardly tell as one looked ahead where the
distant green water ended and the distant green archway began. The deep
peace of this strange waterway was unbroken by any sign of man.

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

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

On the third day it became evident that our journey in the canoes could
not last much longer, for the stream was rapidly growing more shallow.
Twice in as many hours we stuck upon the bottom. Finally we pulled the
boats up among the brushwood and spent the night on the bank of the river.
In the morning Lord John and I made our way for a couple of miles through
the forest, keeping parallel with the stream; but as it grew ever shallower
we returned and reported, what Professor Challenger had already suspected,
that we had reached the highest point to which the canoes could be brought.
We drew them up, therefore, and concealed them among the bushes, blazing
a tree with our axes, so that we should find them again. Then we distributed
the various burdens among us—guns, ammunition, food, a tent, blankets,
and the rest—and, shouldering our packages, we set forth upon the more
laborious stage of our journey.

An unfortunate quarrel between our pepper-pots marked the outset of our
new stage. Challenger had from the moment of joining us issued directions
to the whole party, much to the evident discontent of Summerlee. Now,
upon his assigning some duty to his fellow-Professor (it was only the
carrying of an aneroid barometer), the matter suddenly came to a head.

"May I ask, sir," said Summerlee, with vicious calm, "in what capacity
you take it upon yourself to issue these orders?"

Challenger glared and bristled.

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

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

"Indeed!" Challenger bowed with unwieldy sarcasm. "Perhaps you
would define my exact position."

"Yes, sir. You are a man whose veracity is upon trial, and this committee
is here to try it. You walk, sir, with your judges."

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

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

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

morass, which droned like an organ in the distance, so loud was it with
insect life.

On the second day after leaving our canoes we found that the whole
character of the country changed. Our road was persistently upwards, and as
we ascended the woods became thinner and lost their tropical luxuriance.
The huge trees of the alluvial Amazonian plain gave place to the Phoenix
and coco palms, growing in scattered clumps, with thick brushwood
between. In the damper hollows the Mauritia palms threw out their graceful
drooping fronds. We traveled entirely by compass, and once or twice there
were differences of opinion between Challenger and the two Indians, when,
to quote the Professor's indignant words, the whole party agreed to "trust
the fallacious instincts of undeveloped savages rather than the highest
product of modern European culture." That we were justified in doing so
was shown upon the third day, when Challenger admitted that he
recognized several landmarks of his former journey, and in one spot we
actually came upon four fire-blackened stones, which must have marked a
camping-place.

The road still ascended, and we crossed a rock-studded slope which took
two days to traverse. The vegetation had again changed, and only the
vegetable ivory tree remained, with a great profusion of wonderful orchids,
among which I learned to recognize the rare Nuttonia Vexillaria and the
glorious pink and scarlet blossoms of Cattleya and odontoglossum.
Occasional brooks with pebbly bottoms and fern-draped banks gurgled
down the shallow gorges in the hill, and offered good camping-grounds
every evening on the banks of some rock-studded pool, where swarms of
little blue-backed fish, about the size and shape of English trout, gave us a
delicious supper.

On the ninth day after leaving the canoes, having done, as I reckon,
about a hundred and twenty miles, we began to emerge from the trees,
which had grown smaller until they were mere shrubs. Their place was
taken by an immense wilderness of bamboo, which grew so thickly that we
could only penetrate it by cutting a pathway with the machetes and
billhooks of the Indians. It took us a long day, traveling from seven in the
morning till eight at night, with only two breaks of one hour each, to get

through this obstacle. Anything more monotonous and wearying could not
be imagined, for, even at the most open places, I could not see more than
ten or twelve yards, while usually my vision was limited to the back of Lord
John's cotton jacket in front of me, and to the yellow wall within a foot of
me on either side. From above came one thin knife-edge of sunshine, and
fifteen feet over our heads one saw the tops of the reeds swaying against the
deep blue sky. I do not know what kind of creatures inhabit such a thicket,
but several times we heard the plunging of large, heavy animals quite close
to us. From their sounds Lord John judged them to be some form of wild
cattle. Just as night fell we cleared the belt of bamboos, and at once formed
our camp, exhausted by the interminable day.

Early next morning we were again afoot, and found that the character of
the country had changed once again. Behind us was the wall of bamboo, as
definite as if it marked the course of a river. In front was an open plain,
sloping slightly upwards and dotted with clumps of tree-ferns, the whole
curving before us until it ended in a long, whale-backed ridge. This we
reached about midday, only to find a shallow valley beyond, rising once
again into a gentle incline which led to a low, rounded sky-line. It was here,
while we crossed the first of these hills, that an incident occurred which
may or may not have been important.

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

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

His colleague was staring at the spot where the creature had disappeared.

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

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

Summerlee burst into derisive laughter "A pter-fiddlestick!" said he. "It
was a stork, if ever I saw one."

Challenger was too furious to speak. He simply swung his pack upon his
back and continued upon his march. Lord John came abreast of me,
however, and his face was more grave than was his wont. He had his Zeiss
glasses in his hand.

"I focused it before it got over the trees," said he. "I won't undertake to
say what it was, but I'll risk my reputation as a sportsman that it wasn't any
bird that ever I clapped eyes on in my life."

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

And now, my readers, if ever I have any, I have brought you up the broad
river, and through the screen of rushes, and down the green tunnel, and up
the long slope of palm trees, and through the bamboo brake, and across the
plain of tree-ferns. At last our destination lay in full sight of us. When we
had crossed the second ridge we saw before us an irregular, palm-studded
plain, and then the line of high red cliffs which I have seen in the picture.
There it lies, even as I write, and there can be no question that it is the
same. At the nearest point it is about seven miles from our present camp,
and it curves away, stretching as far as I can see. Challenger struts about
like a prize peacock, and Summerlee is silent, but still sceptical. Another
day should bring some of our doubts to an end. Meanwhile, as Jose, whose
arm was pierced by a broken bamboo, insists upon returning, I send this
letter back in his charge, and only hope that it may eventually come to hand.
I will write again as the occasion serves. I have enclosed with this a rough
chart of our journey, which may have the effect of making the account
rather easier to understand.

CHAPTER IX

"Who could have Foreseen it?"

A dreadful thing has happened to us. Who could have foreseen it? I
cannot foresee any end to our troubles. It may be that we are condemned to
spend our whole lives in this strange, inaccessible place. I am still so
confused that I can hardly think clearly of the facts of the present or of the
chances of the future. To my astounded senses the one seems most terrible
and the other as black as night.

No men have ever found themselves in a worse position; nor is there any
use in disclosing to you our exact geographical situation and asking our
friends for a relief party. Even if they could send one, our fate will in all
human probability be decided long before it could arrive in South America.

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

Let me give you, with as much detail as I can, the sequence of events
which have led us to this catastrophe.

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

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

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

As Challenger spoke of his pterodactyl I glanced at Professor
Summerlee, and for the first time I seemed to see some signs of a dawning
credulity and repentance. There was no sneer upon his thin lips, but, on the
contrary, a gray, drawn look of excitement and amazement. Challenger saw
it, too, and reveled in the first taste of victory.

"Of course," said he, with his clumsy and ponderous sarcasm, "Professor
Summerlee will understand that when I speak of a pterodactyl I mean a
stork—only it is the kind of stork which has no feathers, a leathery skin,
membranous wings, and teeth in its jaws." He grinned and blinked and
bowed until his colleague turned and walked away.

In the morning, after a frugal breakfast of coffee and manioc—we had to
be economical of our stores—we held a council of war as to the best
method of ascending to the plateau above us.

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

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

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

"There seems to be only one reasonable course," said Professor
Summerlee. "If you have explored the east, we should travel along the base
of the cliff to the west, and seek for a practicable point for our ascent."

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

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

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

"Because my predecessor, the American Maple White, actually made
such an ascent. How otherwise could he have seen the monster which he
sketched in his notebook?"

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

"What you admit, sir, or what you do not admit, is really of
inconceivably small importance. I am glad to perceive that the plateau itself
has actually obtruded itself upon your intelligence." He glanced up at it, and
then, to our amazement, he sprang from his rock, and, seizing Summerlee
by the neck, he tilted his face into the air. "Now sir!" he shouted, hoarse
with excitement. "Do I help you to realize that the plateau contains some
animal life?"

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

Summerlee had been so interested that he had stood unresisting while
Challenger tilted his head into the air. Now he shook his colleague off and
came back to his dignity.

"I should be glad, Professor Challenger," said he, "if you could see your
way to make any remarks which may occur to you without seizing me by
the chin. Even the appearance of a very ordinary rock python does not
appear to justify such a liberty."

"But there is life upon the plateau all the same," his colleague replied in
triumph. "And now, having demonstrated this important conclusion so that
it is clear to anyone, however prejudiced or obtuse, I am of opinion that we

cannot do better than break up our camp and travel to westward until we
find some means of ascent."

The ground at the foot of the cliff was rocky and broken so that the
going was slow and difficult. Suddenly we came, however, upon something
which cheered our hearts. It was the site of an old encampment, with
several empty Chicago meat tins, a bottle labeled "Brandy," a broken tin-
opener, and a quantity of other travelers' debris. A crumpled, disintegrated
newspaper revealed itself as the Chicago Democrat, though the date had
been obliterated.

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

Lord John had been gazing curiously at a great tree-fern which
overshadowed the encampment. "I say, look at this," said he. "I believe it is
meant for a sign-post."

A slip of hard wood had been nailed to the tree in such a way as to point
to the westward.

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

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

With a few blows from the machetes of our Indians we cleared the spot
and were able to study the details of this old tragedy. Only a few shreds of
clothes could still be distinguished, but there were the remains of boots

upon the bony feet, and it was very clear that the dead man was a European.
A gold watch by Hudson, of New York, and a chain which held a
stylographic pen, lay among the bones. There was also a silver cigarette-
case, with "J. C., from A. E. S.," upon the lid. The state of the metal seemed
to show that the catastrophe had occurred no great time before.

"Who can he be?" asked Lord John. "Poor devil! every bone in his body
seems to be broken."

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

"As to the man's identity," said Professor Challenger, "I have no doubt
whatever upon that point. As I made my way up the river before I reached
you at the fazenda I instituted very particular inquiries about Maple White.
At Para they knew nothing. Fortunately, I had a definite clew, for there was
a particular picture in his sketch-book which showed him taking lunch with
a certain ecclesiastic at Rosario. This priest I was able to find, and though
he proved a very argumentative fellow, who took it absurdly amiss that I
should point out to him the corrosive effect which modern science must
have upon his beliefs, he none the less gave me some positive information.
Maple White passed Rosario four years ago, or two years before I saw his
dead body. He was not alone at the time, but there was a friend, an
American named James Colver, who remained in the boat and did not meet
this ecclesiastic. I think, therefore, that there can be no doubt that we are
now looking upon the remains of this James Colver."

"Nor," said Lord John, "is there much doubt as to how he met his death.
He has fallen or been chucked from the top, and so been impaled. How else
could he come by his broken bones, and how could he have been stuck
through by these canes with their points so high above our heads?"

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

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

In five miles we saw no rift or break. And then suddenly we perceived
something which filled us with new hope. In a hollow of the rock, protected
from rain, there was drawn a rough arrow in chalk, pointing still to the
westwards.

"Maple White again," said Professor Challenger. "He had some
presentiment that worthy footsteps would follow close behind him."

"He had chalk, then?"

"A box of colored chalks was among the effects I found in his knapsack.
I remember that the white one was worn to a stump."

"That is certainly good evidence," said Summerlee. "We can only accept
his guidance and follow on to the westward."

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

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

It was not more than forty feet across at the mouth, but it rapidly closed
until it ended in an acute angle, too straight and smooth for an ascent.
Certainly it was not this which our pioneer had attempted to indicate. We

made our way back—the whole gorge was not more than a quarter of a mile
deep—and then suddenly the quick eyes of Lord John fell upon what we
were seeking. High up above our heads, amid the dark shadows, there was
one circle of deeper gloom. Surely it could only be the opening of a cave.

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

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

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

"It's blocked!" said he.

Clustering behind him we saw in the yellow field of light a wall of
broken basalt which extended to the ceiling.

"The roof has fallen in!"

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

Too much cast down to speak, we stumbled down the dark tunnel and
made our way back to the camp.

One incident occurred, however, before we left the gorge, which is of
importance in view of what came afterwards.

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

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

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

We made a march that day which totaled some two-and-twenty miles,
without any change in our prospects. I may mention that our aneroid shows
us that in the continual incline which we have ascended since we
abandoned our canoes we have risen to no less than three thousand feet
above sea-level. Hence there is a considerable change both in the

temperature and in the vegetation. We have shaken off some of that horrible
insect life which is the bane of tropical travel. A few palms still survive, and
many tree-ferns, but the Amazonian trees have been all left behind. It was
pleasant to see the convolvulus, the passion-flower, and the begonia, all
reminding me of home, here among these inhospitable rocks. There was a
red begonia just the same color as one that is kept in a pot in the window of
a certain villa in Streatham—but I am drifting into private reminiscence.

That night—I am still speaking of the first day of our circumnavigation
of the plateau—a great experience awaited us, and one which for ever set at
rest any doubt which we could have had as to the wonders so near us.

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

And yet it was all over in a flash, and there was no sequel to it, save in
our own convictions.

What occurred was this. Lord John had shot an ajouti—which is a small,
pig-like animal—and, half of it having been given to the Indians, we were
cooking the other half upon our fire. There is a chill in the air after dark,
and we had all drawn close to the blaze. The night was moonless, but there
were some stars, and one could see for a little distance across the plain.
Well, suddenly out of the darkness, out of the night, there swooped
something with a swish like an aeroplane. The whole group of us were
covered for an instant by a canopy of leathery wings, and I had a
momentary vision of a long, snake-like neck, a fierce, red, greedy eye, and
a great snapping beak, filled, to my amazement, with little, gleaming teeth.
The next instant it was gone—and so was our dinner. A huge black shadow,

twenty feet across, skimmed up into the air; for an instant the monster
wings blotted out the stars, and then it vanished over the brow of the cliff
above us. We all sat in amazed silence round the fire, like the heroes of
Virgil when the Harpies came down upon them. It was Summerlee who was
the first to speak.

"Professor Challenger," said he, in a solemn voice, which quavered with
emotion, "I owe you an apology. Sir, I am very much in the wrong, and I
beg that you will forget what is past."

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

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

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

"Surely," said I, as we discussed the situation, "the rain must find its way
down somehow. There are bound to be water-channels in the rocks."

"Our young friend has glimpses of lucidity," said Professor Challenger,
patting me upon the shoulder.

"The rain must go somewhere," I repeated.

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

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

"I think it may be fairly assumed that if it does not come outwards it
must run inwards."

"Then there is a lake in the center."

"So I should suppose."

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

"Or evaporation might preserve an equilibrium," remarked Challenger,
and the two learned men wandered off into one of their usual scientific

arguments, which were as comprehensible as Chinese to the layman.

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

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

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

"Eureka!" he cried, his teeth shining through his beard. "Gentlemen, you
may congratulate me and we may congratulate each other. The problem is
solved."

"You have found a way up?"

"I venture to think so."

"And where?"

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

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

"We can never get across," I gasped.

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

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

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

The first impression which I received when I had recovered my breath
was of the extraordinary view over the country which we had traversed. The

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

I was still drinking in this wonderful panorama when the heavy hand of
the Professor fell upon my shoulder.

"This way, my young friend," said he; "vestigia nulla retrorsum. Never
look rearwards, but always to our glorious goal."

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

"This is indeed curious," said the creaking voice of Professor
Summerlee.

I turned, and found that he was examining with great interest the tree to
which I clung. That smooth bark and those small, ribbed leaves seemed
familiar to my eyes. "Why," I cried, "it's a beech!"

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

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

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

"Exactly, my friends, a bridge! It is not for nothing that I expended an
hour last night in focusing my mind upon the situation. I have some
recollection of once remarking to our young friend here that G. E. C. is at
his best when his back is to the wall. Last night you will admit that all our
backs were to the wall. But where will-power and intellect go together,
there is always a way out. A drawbridge had to be found which could be
dropped across the abyss. Behold it!"

It was certainly a brilliant idea. The tree was a good sixty feet in height,
and if it only fell the right way it would easily cross the chasm. Challenger
had slung the camp axe over his shoulder when he ascended. Now he
handed it to me.

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

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

All of us, without a word, shook hands with Professor Challenger, who
raised his straw hat and bowed deeply to each in turn.

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

He had approached the bridge when Lord John laid his hand upon his
coat.

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

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

"When it is a matter of science, don't you know, I follow your lead
because you are by way of bein' a man of science. But it's up to you to
follow me when you come into my department."

"Your department, sir?"

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

The remonstrance was too reasonable to be disregarded. Challenger
tossed his head and shrugged his heavy shoulders.

"Well, sir, what do you propose?"

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

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

"Now, Challenger, if you really insist upon being the first man in," said
Lord John, when every preparation was complete.

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

Seating himself with a leg overhanging the abyss on each side, and his
hatchet slung upon his back, Challenger hopped his way across the trunk
and was soon at the other side. He clambered up and waved his arms in the
air.

"At last!" he cried; "at last!"

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

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

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

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

Far down at the base of the cliff I saw, as I looked over, a tangled mass
of branches and splintered trunk. It was our beech tree. Had the edge of the
platform crumbled and let it through? For a moment this explanation was in

all our minds. The next, from the farther side of the rocky pinnacle before
us a swarthy face, the face of Gomez the half-breed, was slowly protruded.
Yes, it was Gomez, but no longer the Gomez of the demure smile and the
mask-like expression. Here was a face with flashing eyes and distorted
features, a face convulsed with hatred and with the mad joy of gratified
revenge.

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

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

A shriek of laughter came across the abyss.

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

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

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

Had the half-breed simply wrought his vengeance and then escaped, all
might have been well with him. It was that foolish, irresistible Latin
impulse to be dramatic which brought his own downfall. Roxton, the man
who had earned himself the name of the Flail of the Lord through three
countries, was not one who could be safely taunted. The half-breed was
descending on the farther side of the pinnacle; but before he could reach the
ground Lord John had run along the edge of the plateau and gained a point
from which he could see his man. There was a single crack of his rifle, and,

though we saw nothing, we heard the scream and then the distant thud of
the falling body. Roxton came back to us with a face of granite.

"I have been a blind simpleton," said he, bitterly, "It's my folly that has
brought you all into this trouble. I should have remembered that these
people have long memories for blood-feuds, and have been more upon my
guard."

"What about the other one? It took two of them to lever that tree over the
edge."

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

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

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

Our two traitors had been destroyed, but the mischief that they had done
lived after them. By no possible means could we get back to the pinnacle.
We had been natives of the world; now we were natives of the plateau. The
two things were separate and apart. There was the plain which led to the
canoes. Yonder, beyond the violet, hazy horizon, was the stream which led
back to civilization. But the link between was missing. No human ingenuity

could suggest a means of bridging the chasm which yawned between
ourselves and our past lives. One instant had altered the whole conditions of
our existence.

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

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

It was a question which it was easier to ask than to answer. One thing
only was clear. He was our one trusty link with the outside world. On no
account must he leave us.

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

It was a fact that our Indians had shown in many ways of late that they
were weary of their journey and anxious to return. We realized that Zambo
spoke the truth, and that it would be impossible for him to keep them.

"Make them wait till to-morrow, Zambo," I shouted; "then I can send
letter back by them."

"Very good, sarr! I promise they wait till to-morrow," said the negro.
"But what I do for you now?"

There was plenty for him to do, and admirably the faithful fellow did it.
First of all, under our directions, he undid the rope from the tree-stump and
threw one end of it across to us. It was not thicker than a clothes-line, but it
was of great strength, and though we could not make a bridge of it, we
might well find it invaluable if we had any climbing to do. He then fastened
his end of the rope to the package of supplies which had been carried up,

and we were able to drag it across. This gave us the means of life for at least
a week, even if we found nothing else. Finally he descended and carried up
two other packets of mixed goods—a box of ammunition and a number of
other things, all of which we got across by throwing our rope to him and
hauling it back. It was evening when he at last climbed down, with a final
assurance that he would keep the Indians till next morning.

And so it is that I have spent nearly the whole of this our first night upon
the plateau writing up our experiences by the light of a single candle-
lantern.

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

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

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

CHAPTER X

"The most Wonderful Things have Happened"

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

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

"Most interesting," said Summerlee, bending over my shin. "An
enormous blood-tick, as yet, I believe, unclassified."

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

"Filthy vermin!" I cried.

Professor Challenger raised his great eyebrows in protest, and placed a
soothing paw upon my shoulder.

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

"There can be no doubt of that," said Summerlee, grimly, "for one has
just disappeared behind your shirt-collar."

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

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

And now we had to decide upon our immediate movements. We shifted
our position from among the tick-laden bushes until we came to a small
clearing thickly surrounded by trees upon all sides. There were some flat
slabs of rock in the center, with an excellent well close by, and there we sat

in cleanly comfort while we made our first plans for the invasion of this
new country. Birds were calling among the foliage—especially one with a
peculiar whooping cry which was new to us—but beyond these sounds
there were no signs of life.

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

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

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

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

"By all means, sonny my boy! We will advance. But with common
sense. We must never go so far that we can't get back to our base. Above all,
we must never, unless it is life or death, fire off our guns."

"But YOU fired yesterday," said Summerlee.

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

There were several suggestions, more or less happy, but Challenger's
was final.

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

Maple White Land it became, and so it is named in that chart which has
become my special task. So it will, I trust, appear in the atlas of the future.

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

We therefore blocked the entrance to our zareba by filling it up with
several thorny bushes, and left our camp with the stores entirely surrounded
by this protecting hedge. We then slowly and cautiously set forth into the

unknown, following the course of the little stream which flowed from our
spring, as it should always serve us as a guide on our return.

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

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

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

"I'll stake my good name as a shikarree," said he, "that the track is a
fresh one. The creature has not passed ten minutes. Look how the water is
still oozing into that deeper print! By Jove! See, here is the mark of a little
one!"

Sure enough, smaller tracks of the same general form were running
parallel to the large ones.

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

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

"A beast?"

"No; a reptile—a dinosaur. Nothing else could have left such a track.
They puzzled a worthy Sussex doctor some ninety years ago; but who in the
world could have hoped—hoped—to have seen a sight like that?"

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

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

I do not know how long we stayed motionless gazing at this marvelous
spectacle. A strong wind blew towards us and we were well concealed, so
there was no chance of discovery. From time to time the little ones played
round their parents in unwieldy gambols, the great beasts bounding into the
air and falling with dull thuds upon the earth. The strength of the parents
seemed to be limitless, for one of them, having some difficulty in reaching a
bunch of foliage which grew upon a considerable-sized tree, put his fore-
legs round the trunk and tore it down as if it had been a sapling. The action
seemed, as I thought, to show not only the great development of its
muscles, but also the small one of its brain, for the whole weight came

crashing down upon the top of it, and it uttered a series of shrill yelps to
show that, big as it was, there was a limit to what it could endure. The
incident made it think, apparently, that the neighborhood was dangerous, for
it slowly lurched off through the wood, followed by its mate and its three
enormous infants. We saw the shimmering slaty gleam of their skins
between the tree-trunks, and their heads undulating high above the brush-
wood. Then they vanished from our sight.

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

"Nunc dimittis!" he cried at last. "What will they say in England of
this?"

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

"In the face of photographs?"

"Faked, Summerlee! Clumsily faked!"

"In the face of specimens?"

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

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

"Iguanodons," said Summerlee. "You'll find their footmarks all over the
Hastings sands, in Kent, and in Sussex. The South of England was alive
with them when there was plenty of good lush green-stuff to keep them
going. Conditions have changed, and the beasts died. Here it seems that the
conditions have not changed, and the beasts have lived."

"If ever we get out of this alive, I must have a head with me," said Lord
John. "Lord, how some of that Somaliland-Uganda crowd would turn a
beautiful pea-green if they saw it! I don't know what you chaps think, but it
strikes me that we are on mighty thin ice all this time."

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

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

We passed very slowly through the woods, partly because Lord Roxton
acted as scout before he would let us advance, and partly because at every

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

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

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

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

"Make for the wood and keep together," cried Lord John, clubbing his
rifle. "The brutes mean mischief."

The moment we attempted to retreat the circle closed in upon us, until
the tips of the wings of those nearest to us nearly touched our faces. We
beat at them with the stocks of our guns, but there was nothing solid or
vulnerable to strike. Then suddenly out of the whizzing, slate-colored circle
a long neck shot out, and a fierce beak made a thrust at us. Another and
another followed. Summerlee gave a cry and put his hand to his face, from
which the blood was streaming. I felt a prod at the back of my neck, and
turned dizzy with the shock. Challenger fell, and as I stooped to pick him
up I was again struck from behind and dropped on the top of him. At the

same instant I heard the crash of Lord John's elephant-gun, and, looking up,
saw one of the creatures with a broken wing struggling upon the ground,
spitting and gurgling at us with a wide-opened beak and blood-shot,
goggled eyes, like some devil in a medieval picture. Its comrades had flown
higher at the sudden sound, and were circling above our heads.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It may do no harm," said he. "Among these woods there must be many
loud cracks from splitting or falling trees which would be just like the
sound of a gun. But now, if you are of my opinion, we have had thrills
enough for one day, and had best get back to the surgical box at the camp
for some carbolic. Who knows what venom these beasts may have in their
hideous jaws?"

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

"All well, Massa Challenger, all well!" he cried. "Me stay here. No fear.
You always find me when you want."

His honest black face, and the immense view before us, which carried us
half-way back to the affluent of the Amazon, helped us to remember that we
really were upon this earth in the twentieth century, and had not by some
magic been conveyed to some raw planet in its earliest and wildest state.
How difficult it was to realize that the violet line upon the far horizon was
well advanced to that great river upon which huge steamers ran, and folk

talked of the small affairs of life, while we, marooned among the creatures
of a bygone age, could but gaze towards it and yearn for all that it meant!

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

"I say, Malone," said he, "do you remember that place where those
beasts were?"

"Very clearly."

"A sort of volcanic pit, was it not?"

"Exactly," said I.

"Did you notice the soil?"

"Rocks."

"But round the water—where the reeds were?"

"It was a bluish soil. It looked like clay."

"Exactly. A volcanic tube full of blue clay."

"What of that?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," said he, and strolled back to where the voices of
the contending men of science rose in a prolonged duet, the high, strident
note of Summerlee rising and falling to the sonorous bass of Challenger. I
should have thought no more of Lord John's remark were it not that once
again that night I heard him mutter to himself: "Blue clay—clay in a
volcanic tube!" They were the last words I heard before I dropped into an
exhausted sleep.

CHAPTER XI

"For once I was the Hero"

Lord John Roxton was right when he thought that some specially toxic
quality might lie in the bite of the horrible creatures which had attacked us.
On the morning after our first adventure upon the plateau, both Summerlee
and I were in great pain and fever, while Challenger's knee was so bruised
that he could hardly limp. We kept to our camp all day, therefore, Lord John
busying himself, with such help as we could give him, in raising the height
and thickness of the thorny walls which were our only defense. I remember
that during the whole long day I was haunted by the feeling that we were
closely observed, though by whom or whence I could give no guess.

So strong was the impression that I told Professor Challenger of it, who
put it down to the cerebral excitement caused by my fever. Again and again
I glanced round swiftly, with the conviction that I was about to see
something, but only to meet the dark tangle of our hedge or the solemn and
cavernous gloom of the great trees which arched above our heads. And yet
the feeling grew ever stronger in my own mind that something observant
and something malevolent was at our very elbow. I thought of the Indian
superstition of the Curupuri—the dreadful, lurking spirit of the woods—and
I could have imagined that his terrible presence haunted those who had
invaded his most remote and sacred retreat.

That night (our third in Maple White Land) we had an experience which
left a fearful impression upon our minds, and made us thankful that Lord
John had worked so hard in making our retreat impregnable. We were all
sleeping round our dying fire when we were aroused—or, rather, I should
say, shot out of our slumbers—by a succession of the most frightful cries
and screams to which I have ever listened. I know no sound to which I
could compare this amazing tumult, which seemed to come from some spot
within a few hundred yards of our camp. It was as ear-splitting as any

whistle of a railway-engine; but whereas the whistle is a clear, mechanical,
sharp-edged sound, this was far deeper in volume and vibrant with the
uttermost strain of agony and horror. We clapped our hands to our ears to
shut out that nerve-shaking appeal. A cold sweat broke out over my body,
and my heart turned sick at the misery of it. All the woes of tortured life, all
its stupendous indictment of high heaven, its innumerable sorrows, seemed
to be centered and condensed into that one dreadful, agonized cry. And
then, under this high-pitched, ringing sound there was another, more
intermittent, a low, deep-chested laugh, a growling, throaty gurgle of
merriment which formed a grotesque accompaniment to the shriek with
which it was blended. For three or four minutes on end the fearsome duet
continued, while all the foliage rustled with the rising of startled birds. Then
it shut off as suddenly as it began. For a long time we sat in horrified
silence. Then Lord John threw a bundle of twigs upon the fire, and their red
glare lit up the intent faces of my companions and flickered over the great
boughs above our heads.

"What was it?" I whispered.

"We shall know in the morning," said Lord John. "It was close to us—
not farther than the glade."

"We have been privileged to overhear a prehistoric tragedy, the sort of
drama which occurred among the reeds upon the border of some Jurassic
lagoon, when the greater dragon pinned the lesser among the slime," said
Challenger, with more solemnity than I had ever heard in his voice. "It was
surely well for man that he came late in the order of creation. There were
powers abroad in earlier days which no courage and no mechanism of his
could have met. What could his sling, his throwing-stick, or his arrow avail
him against such forces as have been loose to-night? Even with a modern
rifle it would be all odds on the monster."

"I think I should back my little friend," said Lord John, caressing his
Express. "But the beast would certainly have a good sporting chance."

Summerlee raised his hand.

"Hush!" he cried. "Surely I hear something?"

From the utter silence there emerged a deep, regular pat-pat. It was the
tread of some animal—the rhythm of soft but heavy pads placed cautiously
upon the ground. It stole slowly round the camp, and then halted near our
gateway. There was a low, sibilant rise and fall—the breathing of the
creature. Only our feeble hedge separated us from this horror of the night.
Each of us had seized his rifle, and Lord John had pulled out a small bush to
make an embrasure in the hedge.

"By George!" he whispered. "I think I can see it!"

I stooped and peered over his shoulder through the gap. Yes, I could see
it, too. In the deep shadow of the tree there was a deeper shadow yet, black,
inchoate, vague—a crouching form full of savage vigor and menace. It was
no higher than a horse, but the dim outline suggested vast bulk and strength.
That hissing pant, as regular and full-volumed as the exhaust of an engine,
spoke of a monstrous organism. Once, as it moved, I thought I saw the glint
of two terrible, greenish eyes. There was an uneasy rustling, as if it were
crawling slowly forward.

"I believe it is going to spring!" said I, cocking my rifle.

"Don't fire! Don't fire!" whispered Lord John. "The crash of a gun in this
silent night would be heard for miles. Keep it as a last card."

"If it gets over the hedge we're done," said Summerlee, and his voice
crackled into a nervous laugh as he spoke.

"No, it must not get over," cried Lord John; "but hold your fire to the
last. Perhaps I can make something of the fellow. I'll chance it, anyhow."

It was as brave an act as ever I saw a man do. He stooped to the fire,
picked up a blazing branch, and slipped in an instant through a sallyport
which he had made in our gateway. The thing moved forward with a
dreadful snarl. Lord John never hesitated, but, running towards it with a
quick, light step, he dashed the flaming wood into the brute's face. For one
moment I had a vision of a horrible mask like a giant toad's, of a warty,
leprous skin, and of a loose mouth all beslobbered with fresh blood. The
next, there was a crash in the underwood and our dreadful visitor was gone.

"I thought he wouldn't face the fire," said Lord John, laughing, as he
came back and threw his branch among the faggots.

"You should not have taken such a risk!" we all cried.

"There was nothin' else to be done. If he had got among us we should
have shot each other in tryin' to down him. On the other hand, if we had
fired through the hedge and wounded him he would soon have been on the
top of us—to say nothin' of giving ourselves away. On the whole, I think
that we are jolly well out of it. What was he, then?"

Our learned men looked at each other with some hesitation.

"Personally, I am unable to classify the creature with any certainty," said
Summerlee, lighting his pipe from the fire.

"In refusing to commit yourself you are but showing a proper scientific
reserve," said Challenger, with massive condescension. "I am not myself
prepared to go farther than to say in general terms that we have almost
certainly been in contact to-night with some form of carnivorous dinosaur. I
have already expressed my anticipation that something of the sort might
exist upon this plateau."

"We have to bear in mind," remarked Summerlee, "that there are many
prehistoric forms which have never come down to us. It would be rash to
suppose that we can give a name to all that we are likely to meet."

"Exactly. A rough classification may be the best that we can attempt. To-
morrow some further evidence may help us to an identification. Meantime
we can only renew our interrupted slumbers."

"But not without a sentinel," said Lord John, with decision. "We can't
afford to take chances in a country like this. Two-hour spells in the future,
for each of us."

"Then I'll just finish my pipe in starting the first one," said Professor
Summerlee; and from that time onwards we never trusted ourselves again
without a watchman.

In the morning it was not long before we discovered the source of the
hideous uproar which had aroused us in the night. The iguanodon glade was
the scene of a horrible butchery. From the pools of blood and the enormous
lumps of flesh scattered in every direction over the green sward we
imagined at first that a number of animals had been killed, but on
examining the remains more closely we discovered that all this carnage
came from one of these unwieldy monsters, which had been literally torn to
pieces by some creature not larger, perhaps, but far more ferocious, than
itself.

Our two professors sat in absorbed argument, examining piece after
piece, which showed the marks of savage teeth and of enormous claws.

"Our judgment must still be in abeyance," said Professor Challenger,
with a huge slab of whitish-colored flesh across his knee. "The indications
would be consistent with the presence of a saber-toothed tiger, such as are
still found among the breccia of our caverns; but the creature actually seen
was undoubtedly of a larger and more reptilian character. Personally, I
should pronounce for allosaurus."

"Or megalosaurus," said Summerlee.

"Exactly. Any one of the larger carnivorous dinosaurs would meet the
case. Among them are to be found all the most terrible types of animal life
that have ever cursed the earth or blessed a museum." He laughed
sonorously at his own conceit, for, though he had little sense of humor, the
crudest pleasantry from his own lips moved him always to roars of
appreciation.

"The less noise the better," said Lord Roxton, curtly. "We don't know
who or what may be near us. If this fellah comes back for his breakfast and
catches us here we won't have so much to laugh at. By the way, what is this
mark upon the iguanodon's hide?"

On the dull, scaly, slate-colored skin somewhere above the shoulder,
there was a singular black circle of some substance which looked like
asphalt. None of us could suggest what it meant, though Summerlee was of
opinion that he had seen something similar upon one of the young ones two

days before. Challenger said nothing, but looked pompous and puffy, as if
he could if he would, so that finally Lord John asked his opinion direct.

"If your lordship will graciously permit me to open my mouth, I shall be
happy to express my sentiments," said he, with elaborate sarcasm. "I am not
in the habit of being taken to task in the fashion which seems to be
customary with your lordship. I was not aware that it was necessary to ask
your permission before smiling at a harmless pleasantry."

It was not until he had received his apology that our touchy friend would
suffer himself to be appeased. When at last his ruffled feelings were at ease,
he addressed us at some length from his seat upon a fallen tree, speaking, as
his habit was, as if he were imparting most precious information to a class
of a thousand.

"With regard to the marking," said he, "I am inclined to agree with my
friend and colleague, Professor Summerlee, that the stains are from asphalt.
As this plateau is, in its very nature, highly volcanic, and as asphalt is a
substance which one associates with Plutonic forces, I cannot doubt that it
exists in the free liquid state, and that the creatures may have come in
contact with it. A much more important problem is the question as to the
existence of the carnivorous monster which has left its traces in this glade.
We know roughly that this plateau is not larger than an average English
county. Within this confined space a certain number of creatures, mostly
types which have passed away in the world below, have lived together for
innumerable years. Now, it is very clear to me that in so long a period one
would have expected that the carnivorous creatures, multiplying unchecked,
would have exhausted their food supply and have been compelled to either
modify their flesh-eating habits or die of hunger. This we see has not been
so. We can only imagine, therefore, that the balance of Nature is preserved
by some check which limits the numbers of these ferocious creatures. One
of the many interesting problems, therefore, which await our solution is to
discover what that check may be and how it operates. I venture to trust that
we may have some future opportunity for the closer study of the
carnivorous dinosaurs."

"And I venture to trust we may not," I observed.

The Professor only raised his great eyebrows, as the schoolmaster meets
the irrelevant observation of the naughty boy.

"Perhaps Professor Summerlee may have an observation to make," he
said, and the two savants ascended together into some rarefied scientific
atmosphere, where the possibilities of a modification of the birth-rate were
weighed against the decline of the food supply as a check in the struggle for
existence.

That morning we mapped out a small portion of the plateau, avoiding the
swamp of the pterodactyls, and keeping to the east of our brook instead of
to the west. In that direction the country was still thickly wooded, with so
much undergrowth that our progress was very slow.

I have dwelt up to now upon the terrors of Maple White Land; but there
was another side to the subject, for all that morning we wandered among
lovely flowers—mostly, as I observed, white or yellow in color, these being,
as our professors explained, the primitive flower-shades. In many places the
ground was absolutely covered with them, and as we walked ankle-deep on
that wonderful yielding carpet, the scent was almost intoxicating in its
sweetness and intensity. The homely English bee buzzed everywhere
around us. Many of the trees under which we passed had their branches
bowed down with fruit, some of which were of familiar sorts, while other
varieties were new. By observing which of them were pecked by the birds
we avoided all danger of poison and added a delicious variety to our food
reserve. In the jungle which we traversed were numerous hard-trodden
paths made by the wild beasts, and in the more marshy places we saw a
profusion of strange footmarks, including many of the iguanodon. Once in a
grove we observed several of these great creatures grazing, and Lord John,
with his glass, was able to report that they also were spotted with asphalt,
though in a different place to the one which we had examined in the
morning. What this phenomenon meant we could not imagine.

We saw many small animals, such as porcupines, a scaly ant-eater, and a
wild pig, piebald in color and with long curved tusks. Once, through a break
in the trees, we saw a clear shoulder of green hill some distance away, and
across this a large dun-colored animal was traveling at a considerable pace.
It passed so swiftly that we were unable to say what it was; but if it were a

deer, as was claimed by Lord John, it must have been as large as those
monstrous Irish elk which are still dug up from time to time in the bogs of
my native land.

Ever since the mysterious visit which had been paid to our camp we
always returned to it with some misgivings. However, on this occasion we
found everything in order.

That evening we had a grand discussion upon our present situation and
future plans, which I must describe at some length, as it led to a new
departure by which we were enabled to gain a more complete knowledge of
Maple White Land than might have come in many weeks of exploring. It
was Summerlee who opened the debate. All day he had been querulous in
manner, and now some remark of Lord John's as to what we should do on
the morrow brought all his bitterness to a head.

"What we ought to be doing to-day, to-morrow, and all the time," said
he, "is finding some way out of the trap into which we have fallen. You are
all turning your brains towards getting into this country. I say that we
should be scheming how to get out of it."

"I am surprised, sir," boomed Challenger, stroking his majestic beard,
"that any man of science should commit himself to so ignoble a sentiment.
You are in a land which offers such an inducement to the ambitious
naturalist as none ever has since the world began, and you suggest leaving it
before we have acquired more than the most superficial knowledge of it or
of its contents. I expected better things of you, Professor Summerlee."

"You must remember," said Summerlee, sourly, "that I have a large class
in London who are at present at the mercy of an extremely inefficient locum
tenens. This makes my situation different from yours, Professor Challenger,
since, so far as I know, you have never been entrusted with any responsible
educational work."

"Quite so," said Challenger. "I have felt it to be a sacrilege to divert a
brain which is capable of the highest original research to any lesser object.
That is why I have sternly set my face against any proffered scholastic
appointment."

"For example?" asked Summerlee, with a sneer; but Lord John hastened
to change the conversation.

"I must say," said he, "that I think it would be a mighty poor thing to go
back to London before I know a great deal more of this place than I do at
present."

"I could never dare to walk into the back office of my paper and face old
McArdle," said I. (You will excuse the frankness of this report, will you not,
sir?) "He'd never forgive me for leaving such unexhausted copy behind me.
Besides, so far as I can see it is not worth discussing, since we can't get
down, even if we wanted."

"Our young friend makes up for many obvious mental lacunae by some
measure of primitive common sense," remarked Challenger. "The interests
of his deplorable profession are immaterial to us; but, as he observes, we
cannot get down in any case, so it is a waste of energy to discuss it."

"It is a waste of energy to do anything else," growled Summerlee from
behind his pipe. "Let me remind you that we came here upon a perfectly
definite mission, entrusted to us at the meeting of the Zoological Institute in
London. That mission was to test the truth of Professor Challenger's
statements. Those statements, as I am bound to admit, we are now in a
position to endorse. Our ostensible work is therefore done. As to the detail
which remains to be worked out upon this plateau, it is so enormous that
only a large expedition, with a very special equipment, could hope to cope
with it. Should we attempt to do so ourselves, the only possible result must
be that we shall never return with the important contribution to science
which we have already gained. Professor Challenger has devised means for
getting us on to this plateau when it appeared to be inaccessible; I think that
we should now call upon him to use the same ingenuity in getting us back
to the world from which we came."

I confess that as Summerlee stated his view it struck me as altogether
reasonable. Even Challenger was affected by the consideration that his
enemies would never stand confuted if the confirmation of his statements
should never reach those who had doubted them.

"The problem of the descent is at first sight a formidable one," said he,
"and yet I cannot doubt that the intellect can solve it. I am prepared to agree
with our colleague that a protracted stay in Maple White Land is at present
inadvisable, and that the question of our return will soon have to be faced. I
absolutely refuse to leave, however, until we have made at least a
superficial examination of this country, and are able to take back with us
something in the nature of a chart."

Professor Summerlee gave a snort of impatience.

"We have spent two long days in exploration," said he, "and we are no
wiser as to the actual geography of the place than when we started. It is
clear that it is all thickly wooded, and it would take months to penetrate it
and to learn the relations of one part to another. If there were some central
peak it would be different, but it all slopes downwards, so far as we can see.
The farther we go the less likely it is that we will get any general view."

It was at that moment that I had my inspiration. My eyes chanced to light
upon the enormous gnarled trunk of the gingko tree which cast its huge
branches over us. Surely, if its bole exceeded that of all others, its height
must do the same. If the rim of the plateau was indeed the highest point,
then why should this mighty tree not prove to be a watchtower which
commanded the whole country? Now, ever since I ran wild as a lad in
Ireland I have been a bold and skilled tree-climber. My comrades might be
my masters on the rocks, but I knew that I would be supreme among those
branches. Could I only get my legs on to the lowest of the giant off-shoots,
then it would be strange indeed if I could not make my way to the top. My
comrades were delighted at my idea.

"Our young friend," said Challenger, bunching up the red apples of his
cheeks, "is capable of acrobatic exertions which would be impossible to a
man of a more solid, though possibly of a more commanding, appearance. I
applaud his resolution."

"By George, young fellah, you've put your hand on it!" said Lord John,
clapping me on the back. "How we never came to think of it before I can't
imagine! There's not more than an hour of daylight left, but if you take your
notebook you may be able to get some rough sketch of the place. If we put

these three ammunition cases under the branch, I will soon hoist you on to
it."

He stood on the boxes while I faced the trunk, and was gently raising me
when Challenger sprang forward and gave me such a thrust with his huge
hand that he fairly shot me into the tree. With both arms clasping the
branch, I scrambled hard with my feet until I had worked, first my body,
and then my knees, onto it. There were three excellent off-shoots, like huge
rungs of a ladder, above my head, and a tangle of convenient branches
beyond, so that I clambered onwards with such speed that I soon lost sight
of the ground and had nothing but foliage beneath me. Now and then I
encountered a check, and once I had to shin up a creeper for eight or ten
feet, but I made excellent progress, and the booming of Challenger's voice
seemed to be a great distance beneath me. The tree was, however,
enormous, and, looking upwards, I could see no thinning of the leaves
above my head. There was some thick, bush-like clump which seemed to be
a parasite upon a branch up which I was swarming. I leaned my head round
it in order to see what was beyond, and I nearly fell out of the tree in my
surprise and horror at what I saw.

A face was gazing into mine—at the distance of only a foot or two. The
creature that owned it had been crouching behind the parasite, and had
looked round it at the same instant that I did. It was a human face—or at
least it was far more human than any monkey's that I have ever seen. It was
long, whitish, and blotched with pimples, the nose flattened, and the lower
jaw projecting, with a bristle of coarse whiskers round the chin. The eyes,
which were under thick and heavy brows, were bestial and ferocious, and as
it opened its mouth to snarl what sounded like a curse at me I observed that
it had curved, sharp canine teeth. For an instant I read hatred and menace in
the evil eyes. Then, as quick as a flash, came an expression of overpowering
fear. There was a crash of broken boughs as it dived wildly down into the
tangle of green. I caught a glimpse of a hairy body like that of a reddish pig,
and then it was gone amid a swirl of leaves and branches.

"What's the matter?" shouted Roxton from below. "Anything wrong with
you?"

"Did you see it?" I cried, with my arms round the branch and all my
nerves tingling.

"We heard a row, as if your foot had slipped. What was it?"

I was so shocked at the sudden and strange appearance of this ape-man
that I hesitated whether I should not climb down again and tell my
experience to my companions. But I was already so far up the great tree that
it seemed a humiliation to return without having carried out my mission.

After a long pause, therefore, to recover my breath and my courage, I
continued my ascent. Once I put my weight upon a rotten branch and swung
for a few seconds by my hands, but in the main it was all easy climbing.
Gradually the leaves thinned around me, and I was aware, from the wind
upon my face, that I had topped all the trees of the forest. I was determined,
however, not to look about me before I had reached the very highest point,
so I scrambled on until I had got so far that the topmost branch was bending
beneath my weight. There I settled into a convenient fork, and, balancing
myself securely, I found myself looking down at a most wonderful
panorama of this strange country in which we found ourselves.

The sun was just above the western sky-line, and the evening was a
particularly bright and clear one, so that the whole extent of the plateau was
visible beneath me. It was, as seen from this height, of an oval contour, with
a breadth of about thirty miles and a width of twenty. Its general shape was
that of a shallow funnel, all the sides sloping down to a considerable lake in
the center. This lake may have been ten miles in circumference, and lay
very green and beautiful in the evening light, with a thick fringe of reeds at
its edges, and with its surface broken by several yellow sandbanks, which
gleamed golden in the mellow sunshine. A number of long dark objects,
which were too large for alligators and too long for canoes, lay upon the
edges of these patches of sand. With my glass I could clearly see that they
were alive, but what their nature might be I could not imagine.

From the side of the plateau on which we were, slopes of woodland, with
occasional glades, stretched down for five or six miles to the central lake. I
could see at my very feet the glade of the iguanodons, and farther off was a
round opening in the trees which marked the swamp of the pterodactyls. On

the side facing me, however, the plateau presented a very different aspect.
There the basalt cliffs of the outside were reproduced upon the inside,
forming an escarpment about two hundred feet high, with a woody slope
beneath it. Along the base of these red cliffs, some distance above the
ground, I could see a number of dark holes through the glass, which I
conjectured to be the mouths of caves. At the opening of one of these
something white was shimmering, but I was unable to make out what it
was. I sat charting the country until the sun had set and it was so dark that I
could no longer distinguish details. Then I climbed down to my companions
waiting for me so eagerly at the bottom of the great tree. For once I was the
hero of the expedition. Alone I had thought of it, and alone I had done it;
and here was the chart which would save us a month's blind groping among
unknown dangers. Each of them shook me solemnly by the hand.

But before they discussed the details of my map I had to tell them of my
encounter with the ape-man among the branches.

"He has been there all the time," said I.

"How do you know that?" asked Lord John.

"Because I have never been without that feeling that something
malevolent was watching us. I mentioned it to you, Professor Challenger."

"Our young friend certainly said something of the kind. He is also the
one among us who is endowed with that Celtic temperament which would
make him sensitive to such impressions."

"The whole theory of telepathy——" began Summerlee, filling his pipe.

"Is too vast to be now discussed," said Challenger, with decision. "Tell
me, now," he added, with the air of a bishop addressing a Sunday-school,
"did you happen to observe whether the creature could cross its thumb over
its palm?"

"No, indeed."

"Had it a tail?"

"No."

"Was the foot prehensile?"

"I do not think it could have made off so fast among the branches if it
could not get a grip with its feet."

"In South America there are, if my memory serves me—you will check
the observation, Professor Summerlee—some thirty-six species of
monkeys, but the anthropoid ape is unknown. It is clear, however, that he
exists in this country, and that he is not the hairy, gorilla-like variety, which
is never seen out of Africa or the East." (I was inclined to interpolate, as I
looked at him, that I had seen his first cousin in Kensington.) "This is a
whiskered and colorless type, the latter characteristic pointing to the fact
that he spends his days in arboreal seclusion. The question which we have
to face is whether he approaches more closely to the ape or the man. In the
latter case, he may well approximate to what the vulgar have called the
'missing link.' The solution of this problem is our immediate duty."

"It is nothing of the sort," said Summerlee, abruptly. "Now that, through
the intelligence and activity of Mr. Malone" (I cannot help quoting the
words), "we have got our chart, our one and only immediate duty is to get
ourselves safe and sound out of this awful place."

"The flesh-pots of civilization," groaned Challenger.

"The ink-pots of civilization, sir. It is our task to put on record what we
have seen, and to leave the further exploration to others. You all agreed as
much before Mr. Malone got us the chart."

"Well," said Challenger, "I admit that my mind will be more at ease
when I am assured that the result of our expedition has been conveyed to
our friends. How we are to get down from this place I have not as yet an
idea. I have never yet encountered any problem, however, which my
inventive brain was unable to solve, and I promise you that to-morrow I
will turn my attention to the question of our descent." And so the matter
was allowed to rest.

But that evening, by the light of the fire and of a single candle, the first
map of the lost world was elaborated. Every detail which I had roughly
noted from my watch-tower was drawn out in its relative place.
Challenger's pencil hovered over the great blank which marked the lake.

"What shall we call it?" he asked.

"Why should you not take the chance of perpetuating your own name?"
said Summerlee, with his usual touch of acidity.

"I trust, sir, that my name will have other and more personal claims upon
posterity," said Challenger, severely. "Any ignoramus can hand down his
worthless memory by imposing it upon a mountain or a river. I need no
such monument."

Summerlee, with a twisted smile, was about to make some fresh assault
when Lord John hastened to intervene.

"It's up to you, young fellah, to name the lake," said he. "You saw it first,
and, by George, if you choose to put 'Lake Malone' on it, no one has a better
right."

"By all means. Let our young friend give it a name," said Challenger.

"Then," said I, blushing, I dare say, as I said it, "let it be named Lake
Gladys."

"Don't you think the Central Lake would be more descriptive?"
remarked Summerlee.

"I should prefer Lake Gladys."

Challenger looked at me sympathetically, and shook his great head in
mock disapproval. "Boys will be boys," said he. "Lake Gladys let it be."

CHAPTER XII

"It was Dreadful in the Forest"

I have said—or perhaps I have not said, for my memory plays me sad
tricks these days—that I glowed with pride when three such men as my
comrades thanked me for having saved, or at least greatly helped, the
situation. As the youngster of the party, not merely in years, but in
experience, character, knowledge, and all that goes to make a man, I had
been overshadowed from the first. And now I was coming into my own. I
warmed at the thought. Alas! for the pride which goes before a fall! That
little glow of self-satisfaction, that added measure of self-confidence, were
to lead me on that very night to the most dreadful experience of my life,
ending with a shock which turns my heart sick when I think of it.

It came about in this way. I had been unduly excited by the adventure of
the tree, and sleep seemed to be impossible. Summerlee was on guard,
sitting hunched over our small fire, a quaint, angular figure, his rifle across
his knees and his pointed, goat-like beard wagging with each weary nod of
his head. Lord John lay silent, wrapped in the South American poncho
which he wore, while Challenger snored with a roll and rattle which
reverberated through the woods. The full moon was shining brightly, and
the air was crisply cold. What a night for a walk! And then suddenly came
the thought, "Why not?" Suppose I stole softly away, suppose I made my
way down to the central lake, suppose I was back at breakfast with some
record of the place—would I not in that case be thought an even more
worthy associate? Then, if Summerlee carried the day and some means of
escape were found, we should return to London with first-hand knowledge
of the central mystery of the plateau, to which I alone, of all men, would
have penetrated. I thought of Gladys, with her "There are heroisms all
round us." I seemed to hear her voice as she said it. I thought also of
McArdle. What a three column article for the paper! What a foundation for
a career! A correspondentship in the next great war might be within my

reach. I clutched at a gun—my pockets were full of cartridges—and, parting
the thorn bushes at the gate of our zareba, quickly slipped out. My last
glance showed me the unconscious Summerlee, most futile of sentinels, still
nodding away like a queer mechanical toy in front of the smouldering fire.

I had not gone a hundred yards before I deeply repented my rashness. I
may have said somewhere in this chronicle that I am too imaginative to be a
really courageous man, but that I have an overpowering fear of seeming
afraid. This was the power which now carried me onwards. I simply could
not slink back with nothing done. Even if my comrades should not have
missed me, and should never know of my weakness, there would still
remain some intolerable self-shame in my own soul. And yet I shuddered at
the position in which I found myself, and would have given all I possessed
at that moment to have been honorably free of the whole business.

It was dreadful in the forest. The trees grew so thickly and their foliage
spread so widely that I could see nothing of the moon-light save that here
and there the high branches made a tangled filigree against the starry sky.
As the eyes became more used to the obscurity one learned that there were
different degrees of darkness among the trees—that some were dimly
visible, while between and among them there were coal-black shadowed
patches, like the mouths of caves, from which I shrank in horror as I passed.
I thought of the despairing yell of the tortured iguanodon—that dreadful cry
which had echoed through the woods. I thought, too, of the glimpse I had in
the light of Lord John's torch of that bloated, warty, blood-slavering muzzle.
Even now I was on its hunting-ground. At any instant it might spring upon
me from the shadows—this nameless and horrible monster. I stopped, and,
picking a cartridge from my pocket, I opened the breech of my gun. As I
touched the lever my heart leaped within me. It was the shot-gun, not the
rifle, which I had taken!

Again the impulse to return swept over me. Here, surely, was a most
excellent reason for my failure—one for which no one would think the less
of me. But again the foolish pride fought against that very word. I could not
—must not—fail. After all, my rifle would probably have been as useless as
a shot-gun against such dangers as I might meet. If I were to go back to
camp to change my weapon I could hardly expect to enter and to leave

again without being seen. In that case there would be explanations, and my
attempt would no longer be all my own. After a little hesitation, then, I
screwed up my courage and continued upon my way, my useless gun under
my arm.

The darkness of the forest had been alarming, but even worse was the
white, still flood of moonlight in the open glade of the iguanodons. Hid
among the bushes, I looked out at it. None of the great brutes were in sight.
Perhaps the tragedy which had befallen one of them had driven them from
their feeding-ground. In the misty, silvery night I could see no sign of any
living thing. Taking courage, therefore, I slipped rapidly across it, and
among the jungle on the farther side I picked up once again the brook which
was my guide. It was a cheery companion, gurgling and chuckling as it ran,
like the dear old trout-stream in the West Country where I have fished at
night in my boyhood. So long as I followed it down I must come to the
lake, and so long as I followed it back I must come to the camp. Often I had
to lose sight of it on account of the tangled brush-wood, but I was always
within earshot of its tinkle and splash.

As one descended the slope the woods became thinner, and bushes, with
occasional high trees, took the place of the forest. I could make good
progress, therefore, and I could see without being seen. I passed close to the
pterodactyl swamp, and as I did so, with a dry, crisp, leathery rattle of
wings, one of these great creatures—it was twenty feet at least from tip to
tip—rose up from somewhere near me and soared into the air. As it passed
across the face of the moon the light shone clearly through the membranous
wings, and it looked like a flying skeleton against the white, tropical
radiance. I crouched low among the bushes, for I knew from past
experience that with a single cry the creature could bring a hundred of its
loathsome mates about my ears. It was not until it had settled again that I
dared to steal onwards upon my journey.

The night had been exceedingly still, but as I advanced I became
conscious of a low, rumbling sound, a continuous murmur, somewhere in
front of me. This grew louder as I proceeded, until at last it was clearly
quite close to me. When I stood still the sound was constant, so that it
seemed to come from some stationary cause. It was like a boiling kettle or

the bubbling of some great pot. Soon I came upon the source of it, for in the
center of a small clearing I found a lake—or a pool, rather, for it was not
larger than the basin of the Trafalgar Square fountain—of some black,
pitch-like stuff, the surface of which rose and fell in great blisters of
bursting gas. The air above it was shimmering with heat, and the ground
round was so hot that I could hardly bear to lay my hand on it. It was clear
that the great volcanic outburst which had raised this strange plateau so
many years ago had not yet entirely spent its forces. Blackened rocks and
mounds of lava I had already seen everywhere peeping out from amid the
luxuriant vegetation which draped them, but this asphalt pool in the jungle
was the first sign that we had of actual existing activity on the slopes of the
ancient crater. I had no time to examine it further for I had need to hurry if I
were to be back in camp in the morning.

It was a fearsome walk, and one which will be with me so long as
memory holds. In the great moonlight clearings I slunk along among the
shadows on the margin. In the jungle I crept forward, stopping with a
beating heart whenever I heard, as I often did, the crash of breaking
branches as some wild beast went past. Now and then great shadows
loomed up for an instant and were gone—great, silent shadows which
seemed to prowl upon padded feet. How often I stopped with the intention
of returning, and yet every time my pride conquered my fear, and sent me
on again until my object should be attained.

At last (my watch showed that it was one in the morning) I saw the
gleam of water amid the openings of the jungle, and ten minutes later I was
among the reeds upon the borders of the central lake. I was exceedingly dry,
so I lay down and took a long draught of its waters, which were fresh and
cold. There was a broad pathway with many tracks upon it at the spot which
I had found, so that it was clearly one of the drinking-places of the animals.
Close to the water's edge there was a huge isolated block of lava. Up this I
climbed, and, lying on the top, I had an excellent view in every direction.

The first thing which I saw filled me with amazement. When I described
the view from the summit of the great tree, I said that on the farther cliff I
could see a number of dark spots, which appeared to be the mouths of
caves. Now, as I looked up at the same cliffs, I saw discs of light in every

direction, ruddy, clearly-defined patches, like the port-holes of a liner in the
darkness. For a moment I thought it was the lava-glow from some volcanic
action; but this could not be so. Any volcanic action would surely be down
in the hollow and not high among the rocks. What, then, was the
alternative? It was wonderful, and yet it must surely be. These ruddy spots
must be the reflection of fires within the caves—fires which could only be
lit by the hand of man. There were human beings, then, upon the plateau.
How gloriously my expedition was justified! Here was news indeed for us
to bear back with us to London!

For a long time I lay and watched these red, quivering blotches of light. I
suppose they were ten miles off from me, yet even at that distance one
could observe how, from time to time, they twinkled or were obscured as
someone passed before them. What would I not have given to be able to
crawl up to them, to peep in, and to take back some word to my comrades
as to the appearance and character of the race who lived in so strange a
place! It was out of the question for the moment, and yet surely we could
not leave the plateau until we had some definite knowledge upon the point.

Lake Gladys—my own lake—lay like a sheet of quicksilver before me,
with a reflected moon shining brightly in the center of it. It was shallow, for
in many places I saw low sandbanks protruding above the water.
Everywhere upon the still surface I could see signs of life, sometimes mere
rings and ripples in the water, sometimes the gleam of a great silver-sided
fish in the air, sometimes the arched, slate-colored back of some passing
monster. Once upon a yellow sandbank I saw a creature like a huge swan,
with a clumsy body and a high, flexible neck, shuffling about upon the
margin. Presently it plunged in, and for some time I could see the arched
neck and darting head undulating over the water. Then it dived, and I saw it
no more.

My attention was soon drawn away from these distant sights and brought
back to what was going on at my very feet. Two creatures like large
armadillos had come down to the drinking-place, and were squatting at the
edge of the water, their long, flexible tongues like red ribbons shooting in
and out as they lapped. A huge deer, with branching horns, a magnificent
creature which carried itself like a king, came down with its doe and two

fawns and drank beside the armadillos. No such deer exist anywhere else
upon earth, for the moose or elks which I have seen would hardly have
reached its shoulders. Presently it gave a warning snort, and was off with its
family among the reeds, while the armadillos also scuttled for shelter. A
new-comer, a most monstrous animal, was coming down the path.

For a moment I wondered where I could have seen that ungainly shape,
that arched back with triangular fringes along it, that strange bird-like head
held close to the ground. Then it came back, to me. It was the stegosaurus—
the very creature which Maple White had preserved in his sketch-book, and
which had been the first object which arrested the attention of Challenger!
There he was—perhaps the very specimen which the American artist had
encountered. The ground shook beneath his tremendous weight, and his
gulpings of water resounded through the still night. For five minutes he was
so close to my rock that by stretching out my hand I could have touched the
hideous waving hackles upon his back. Then he lumbered away and was
lost among the boulders.

Looking at my watch, I saw that it was half-past two o'clock, and high
time, therefore, that I started upon my homeward journey. There was no
difficulty about the direction in which I should return for all along I had
kept the little brook upon my left, and it opened into the central lake within
a stone's-throw of the boulder upon which I had been lying. I set off,
therefore, in high spirits, for I felt that I had done good work and was
bringing back a fine budget of news for my companions. Foremost of all, of
course, were the sight of the fiery caves and the certainty that some
troglodytic race inhabited them. But besides that I could speak from
experience of the central lake. I could testify that it was full of strange
creatures, and I had seen several land forms of primeval life which we had
not before encountered. I reflected as I walked that few men in the world
could have spent a stranger night or added more to human knowledge in the
course of it.

I was plodding up the slope, turning these thoughts over in my mind, and
had reached a point which may have been half-way to home, when my
mind was brought back to my own position by a strange noise behind me. It
was something between a snore and a growl, low, deep, and exceedingly

menacing. Some strange creature was evidently near me, but nothing could
be seen, so I hastened more rapidly upon my way. I had traversed half a
mile or so when suddenly the sound was repeated, still behind me, but
louder and more menacing than before. My heart stood still within me as it
flashed across me that the beast, whatever it was, must surely be after ME.
My skin grew cold and my hair rose at the thought. That these monsters
should tear each other to pieces was a part of the strange struggle for
existence, but that they should turn upon modern man, that they should
deliberately track and hunt down the predominant human, was a staggering
and fearsome thought. I remembered again the blood-beslobbered face
which we had seen in the glare of Lord John's torch, like some horrible
vision from the deepest circle of Dante's hell. With my knees shaking
beneath me, I stood and glared with starting eyes down the moonlit path
which lay behind me. All was quiet as in a dream landscape. Silver
clearings and the black patches of the bushes—nothing else could I see.
Then from out of the silence, imminent and threatening, there came once
more that low, throaty croaking, far louder and closer than before. There
could no longer be a doubt. Something was on my trail, and was closing in
upon me every minute.

I stood like a man paralyzed, still staring at the ground which I had
traversed. Then suddenly I saw it. There was movement among the bushes
at the far end of the clearing which I had just traversed. A great dark
shadow disengaged itself and hopped out into the clear moonlight. I say
"hopped" advisedly, for the beast moved like a kangaroo, springing along in
an erect position upon its powerful hind legs, while its front ones were held
bent in front of it. It was of enormous size and power, like an erect elephant,
but its movements, in spite of its bulk, were exceedingly alert. For a
moment, as I saw its shape, I hoped that it was an iguanodon, which I knew
to be harmless, but, ignorant as I was, I soon saw that this was a very
different creature. Instead of the gentle, deer-shaped head of the great three-
toed leaf-eater, this beast had a broad, squat, toad-like face like that which
had alarmed us in our camp. His ferocious cry and the horrible energy of his
pursuit both assured me that this was surely one of the great flesh-eating
dinosaurs, the most terrible beasts which have ever walked this earth. As the
huge brute loped along it dropped forward upon its fore-paws and brought
its nose to the ground every twenty yards or so. It was smelling out my trail.

Sometimes, for an instant, it was at fault. Then it would catch it up again
and come bounding swiftly along the path I had taken.

Even now when I think of that nightmare the sweat breaks out upon my
brow. What could I do? My useless fowling-piece was in my hand. What
help could I get from that? I looked desperately round for some rock or tree,
but I was in a bushy jungle with nothing higher than a sapling within sight,
while I knew that the creature behind me could tear down an ordinary tree
as though it were a reed. My only possible chance lay in flight. I could not
move swiftly over the rough, broken ground, but as I looked round me in
despair I saw a well-marked, hard-beaten path which ran across in front of
me. We had seen several of the sort, the runs of various wild beasts, during
our expeditions. Along this I could perhaps hold my own, for I was a fast
runner, and in excellent condition. Flinging away my useless gun, I set
myself to do such a half-mile as I have never done before or since. My
limbs ached, my chest heaved, I felt that my throat would burst for want of
air, and yet with that horror behind me I ran and I ran and ran. At last I
paused, hardly able to move. For a moment I thought that I had thrown him
off. The path lay still behind me. And then suddenly, with a crashing and a
rending, a thudding of giant feet and a panting of monster lungs the beast
was upon me once more. He was at my very heels. I was lost.

Madman that I was to linger so long before I fled! Up to then he had
hunted by scent, and his movement was slow. But he had actually seen me
as I started to run. From then onwards he had hunted by sight, for the path
showed him where I had gone. Now, as he came round the curve, he was
springing in great bounds. The moonlight shone upon his huge projecting
eyes, the row of enormous teeth in his open mouth, and the gleaming fringe
of claws upon his short, powerful forearms. With a scream of terror I turned
and rushed wildly down the path. Behind me the thick, gasping breathing of
the creature sounded louder and louder. His heavy footfall was beside me.
Every instant I expected to feel his grip upon my back. And then suddenly
there came a crash—I was falling through space, and everything beyond
was darkness and rest.

As I emerged from my unconsciousness—which could not, I think, have
lasted more than a few minutes—I was aware of a most dreadful and

penetrating smell. Putting out my hand in the darkness I came upon
something which felt like a huge lump of meat, while my other hand closed
upon a large bone. Up above me there was a circle of starlit sky, which
showed me that I was lying at the bottom of a deep pit. Slowly I staggered
to my feet and felt myself all over. I was stiff and sore from head to foot,
but there was no limb which would not move, no joint which would not
bend. As the circumstances of my fall came back into my confused brain, I
looked up in terror, expecting to see that dreadful head silhouetted against
the paling sky. There was no sign of the monster, however, nor could I hear
any sound from above. I began to walk slowly round, therefore, feeling in
every direction to find out what this strange place could be into which I had
been so opportunely precipitated.

It was, as I have said, a pit, with sharply-sloping walls and a level
bottom about twenty feet across. This bottom was littered with great
gobbets of flesh, most of which was in the last state of putridity. The
atmosphere was poisonous and horrible. After tripping and stumbling over
these lumps of decay, I came suddenly against something hard, and I found
that an upright post was firmly fixed in the center of the hollow. It was so
high that I could not reach the top of it with my hand, and it appeared to be
covered with grease.

Suddenly I remembered that I had a tin box of wax-vestas in my pocket.
Striking one of them, I was able at last to form some opinion of this place
into which I had fallen. There could be no question as to its nature. It was a
trap—made by the hand of man. The post in the center, some nine feet long,
was sharpened at the upper end, and was black with the stale blood of the
creatures who had been impaled upon it. The remains scattered about were
fragments of the victims, which had been cut away in order to clear the
stake for the next who might blunder in. I remembered that Challenger had
declared that man could not exist upon the plateau, since with his feeble
weapons he could not hold his own against the monsters who roamed over
it. But now it was clear enough how it could be done. In their narrow-
mouthed caves the natives, whoever they might be, had refuges into which
the huge saurians could not penetrate, while with their developed brains
they were capable of setting such traps, covered with branches, across the

paths which marked the run of the animals as would destroy them in spite
of all their strength and activity. Man was always the master.

The sloping wall of the pit was not difficult for an active man to climb,
but I hesitated long before I trusted myself within reach of the dreadful
creature which had so nearly destroyed me. How did I know that he was not
lurking in the nearest clump of bushes, waiting for my reappearance? I took
heart, however, as I recalled a conversation between Challenger and
Summerlee upon the habits of the great saurians. Both were agreed that the
monsters were practically brainless, that there was no room for reason in
their tiny cranial cavities, and that if they have disappeared from the rest of
the world it was assuredly on account of their own stupidity, which made it
impossible for them to adapt themselves to changing conditions.

To lie in wait for me now would mean that the creature had appreciated
what had happened to me, and this in turn would argue some power
connecting cause and effect. Surely it was more likely that a brainless
creature, acting solely by vague predatory instinct, would give up the chase
when I disappeared, and, after a pause of astonishment, would wander away
in search of some other prey? I clambered to the edge of the pit and looked
over. The stars were fading, the sky was whitening, and the cold wind of
morning blew pleasantly upon my face. I could see or hear nothing of my
enemy. Slowly I climbed out and sat for a while upon the ground, ready to
spring back into my refuge if any danger should appear. Then, reassured by
the absolute stillness and by the growing light, I took my courage in both
hands and stole back along the path which I had come. Some distance down
it I picked up my gun, and shortly afterwards struck the brook which was
my guide. So, with many a frightened backward glance, I made for home.

And suddenly there came something to remind me of my absent
companions. In the clear, still morning air there sounded far away the sharp,
hard note of a single rifle-shot. I paused and listened, but there was nothing
more. For a moment I was shocked at the thought that some sudden danger
might have befallen them. But then a simpler and more natural explanation
came to my mind. It was now broad daylight. No doubt my absence had
been noticed. They had imagined, that I was lost in the woods, and had fired
this shot to guide me home. It is true that we had made a strict resolution

against firing, but if it seemed to them that I might be in danger they would
not hesitate. It was for me now to hurry on as fast as possible, and so to
reassure them.

I was weary and spent, so my progress was not so fast as I wished; but at
last I came into regions which I knew. There was the swamp of the
pterodactyls upon my left; there in front of me was the glade of the
iguanodons. Now I was in the last belt of trees which separated me from
Fort Challenger. I raised my voice in a cheery shout to allay their fears. No
answering greeting came back to me. My heart sank at that ominous
stillness. I quickened my pace into a run. The zareba rose before me, even
as I had left it, but the gate was open. I rushed in. In the cold, morning light
it was a fearful sight which met my eyes. Our effects were scattered in wild
confusion over the ground; my comrades had disappeared, and close to the
smouldering ashes of our fire the grass was stained crimson with a hideous
pool of blood.

I was so stunned by this sudden shock that for a time I must have nearly
lost my reason. I have a vague recollection, as one remembers a bad dream,
of rushing about through the woods all round the empty camp, calling
wildly for my companions. No answer came back from the silent shadows.
The horrible thought that I might never see them again, that I might find
myself abandoned all alone in that dreadful place, with no possible way of
descending into the world below, that I might live and die in that nightmare
country, drove me to desperation. I could have torn my hair and beaten my
head in my despair. Only now did I realize how I had learned to lean upon
my companions, upon the serene self-confidence of Challenger, and upon
the masterful, humorous coolness of Lord John Roxton. Without them I was
like a child in the dark, helpless and powerless. I did not know which way
to turn or what I should do first.

After a period, during which I sat in bewilderment, I set myself to try
and discover what sudden misfortune could have befallen my companions.
The whole disordered appearance of the camp showed that there had been
some sort of attack, and the rifle-shot no doubt marked the time when it had
occurred. That there should have been only one shot showed that it had
been all over in an instant. The rifles still lay upon the ground, and one of

them—Lord John's—had the empty cartridge in the breech. The blankets of
Challenger and of Summerlee beside the fire suggested that they had been
asleep at the time. The cases of ammunition and of food were scattered
about in a wild litter, together with our unfortunate cameras and plate-
carriers, but none of them were missing. On the other hand, all the exposed
provisions—and I remembered that there were a considerable quantity of
them—were gone. They were animals, then, and not natives, who had made
the inroad, for surely the latter would have left nothing behind.

But if animals, or some single terrible animal, then what had become of
my comrades? A ferocious beast would surely have destroyed them and left
their remains. It is true that there was that one hideous pool of blood, which
told of violence. Such a monster as had pursued me during the night could
have carried away a victim as easily as a cat would a mouse. In that case the
others would have followed in pursuit. But then they would assuredly have
taken their rifles with them. The more I tried to think it out with my
confused and weary brain the less could I find any plausible explanation. I
searched round in the forest, but could see no tracks which could help me to
a conclusion. Once I lost myself, and it was only by good luck, and after an
hour of wandering, that I found the camp once more.

Suddenly a thought came to me and brought some little comfort to my
heart. I was not absolutely alone in the world. Down at the bottom of the
cliff, and within call of me, was waiting the faithful Zambo. I went to the
edge of the plateau and looked over. Sure enough, he was squatting among
his blankets beside his fire in his little camp. But, to my amazement, a
second man was seated in front of him. For an instant my heart leaped for
joy, as I thought that one of my comrades had made his way safely down.
But a second glance dispelled the hope. The rising sun shone red upon the
man's skin. He was an Indian. I shouted loudly and waved my handkerchief.
Presently Zambo looked up, waved his hand, and turned to ascend the
pinnacle. In a short time he was standing close to me and listening with
deep distress to the story which I told him.

"Devil got them for sure, Massa Malone," said he. "You got into the
devil's country, sah, and he take you all to himself. You take advice, Massa
Malone, and come down quick, else he get you as well."

"How can I come down, Zambo?"

"You get creepers from trees, Massa Malone. Throw them over here. I
make fast to this stump, and so you have bridge."

"We have thought of that. There are no creepers here which could bear
us."

"Send for ropes, Massa Malone."

"Who can I send, and where?"

"Send to Indian villages, sah. Plenty hide rope in Indian village. Indian
down below; send him."

"Who is he?

"One of our Indians. Other ones beat him and take away his pay. He
come back to us. Ready now to take letter, bring rope,—anything."

To take a letter! Why not? Perhaps he might bring help; but in any case
he would ensure that our lives were not spent for nothing, and that news of
all that we had won for Science should reach our friends at home. I had two
completed letters already waiting. I would spend the day in writing a third,
which would bring my experiences absolutely up to date. The Indian could
bear this back to the world. I ordered Zambo, therefore, to come again in
the evening, and I spent my miserable and lonely day in recording my own
adventures of the night before. I also drew up a note, to be given to any
white merchant or captain of a steam-boat whom the Indian could find,
imploring them to see that ropes were sent to us, since our lives must
depend upon it. These documents I threw to Zambo in the evening, and also
my purse, which contained three English sovereigns. These were to be
given to the Indian, and he was promised twice as much if he returned with
the ropes.

So now you will understand, my dear Mr. McArdle, how this
communication reaches you, and you will also know the truth, in case you
never hear again from your unfortunate correspondent. To-night I am too

weary and too depressed to make my plans. To-morrow I must think out
some way by which I shall keep in touch with this camp, and yet search
round for any traces of my unhappy friends.

CHAPTER XIII

"A Sight which I shall Never Forget"

Just as the sun was setting upon that melancholy night I saw the lonely
figure of the Indian upon the vast plain beneath me, and I watched him, our
one faint hope of salvation, until he disappeared in the rising mists of
evening which lay, rose-tinted from the setting sun, between the far-off river
and me.

It was quite dark when I at last turned back to our stricken camp, and my
last vision as I went was the red gleam of Zambo's fire, the one point of
light in the wide world below, as was his faithful presence in my own
shadowed soul. And yet I felt happier than I had done since this crushing
blow had fallen upon me, for it was good to think that the world should
know what we had done, so that at the worst our names should not perish
with our bodies, but should go down to posterity associated with the result
of our labors.

It was an awesome thing to sleep in that ill-fated camp; and yet it was
even more unnerving to do so in the jungle. One or the other it must be.
Prudence, on the one hand, warned me that I should remain on guard, but
exhausted Nature, on the other, declared that I should do nothing of the
kind. I climbed up on to a limb of the great gingko tree, but there was no
secure perch on its rounded surface, and I should certainly have fallen off
and broken my neck the moment I began to doze. I got down, therefore, and
pondered over what I should do. Finally, I closed the door of the zareba, lit
three separate fires in a triangle, and having eaten a hearty supper dropped
off into a profound sleep, from which I had a strange and most welcome

awakening. In the early morning, just as day was breaking, a hand was laid
upon my arm, and starting up, with all my nerves in a tingle and my hand
feeling for a rifle, I gave a cry of joy as in the cold gray light I saw Lord
John Roxton kneeling beside me.

It was he—and yet it was not he. I had left him calm in his bearing,
correct in his person, prim in his dress. Now he was pale and wild-eyed,
gasping as he breathed like one who has run far and fast. His gaunt face was
scratched and bloody, his clothes were hanging in rags, and his hat was
gone. I stared in amazement, but he gave me no chance for questions. He
was grabbing at our stores all the time he spoke.

"Quick, young fellah! Quick!" he cried. "Every moment counts. Get the
rifles, both of them. I have the other two. Now, all the cartridges you can
gather. Fill up your pockets. Now, some food. Half a dozen tins will do.
That's all right! Don't wait to talk or think. Get a move on, or we are done!"

Still half-awake, and unable to imagine what it all might mean, I found
myself hurrying madly after him through the wood, a rifle under each arm
and a pile of various stores in my hands. He dodged in and out through the
thickest of the scrub until he came to a dense clump of brush-wood. Into
this he rushed, regardless of thorns, and threw himself into the heart of it,
pulling me down by his side.

"There!" he panted. "I think we are safe here. They'll make for the camp
as sure as fate. It will be their first idea. But this should puzzle 'em."

"What is it all?" I asked, when I had got my breath. "Where are the
professors? And who is it that is after us?"

"The ape-men," he cried. "My God, what brutes! Don't raise your voice,
for they have long ears—sharp eyes, too, but no power of scent, so far as I
could judge, so I don't think they can sniff us out. Where have you been,
young fellah? You were well out of it."

In a few sentences I whispered what I had done.

"Pretty bad," said he, when he had heard of the dinosaur and the pit. "It
isn't quite the place for a rest cure. What? But I had no idea what its
possibilities were until those devils got hold of us. The man-eatin' Papuans
had me once, but they are Chesterfields compared to this crowd."

"How did it happen?" I asked.

"It was in the early mornin'. Our learned friends were just stirrin'. Hadn't
even begun to argue yet. Suddenly it rained apes. They came down as thick
as apples out of a tree. They had been assemblin' in the dark, I suppose,
until that great tree over our heads was heavy with them. I shot one of them
through the belly, but before we knew where we were they had us spread-
eagled on our backs. I call them apes, but they carried sticks and stones in
their hands and jabbered talk to each other, and ended up by tyin' our hands
with creepers, so they are ahead of any beast that I have seen in my
wanderin's. Ape-men—that's what they are—Missin' Links, and I wish they
had stayed missin'. They carried off their wounded comrade—he was
bleedin' like a pig—and then they sat around us, and if ever I saw frozen
murder it was in their faces. They were big fellows, as big as a man and a
deal stronger. Curious glassy gray eyes they have, under red tufts, and they
just sat and gloated and gloated. Challenger is no chicken, but even he was
cowed. He managed to struggle to his feet, and yelled out at them to have
done with it and get it over. I think he had gone a bit off his head at the
suddenness of it, for he raged and cursed at them like a lunatic. If they had
been a row of his favorite Pressmen he could not have slanged them worse."

"Well, what did they do?" I was enthralled by the strange story which my
companion was whispering into my ear, while all the time his keen eyes
were shooting in every direction and his hand grasping his cocked rifle.

"I thought it was the end of us, but instead of that it started them on a
new line. They all jabbered and chattered together. Then one of them stood
out beside Challenger. You'll smile, young fellah, but 'pon my word they
might have been kinsmen. I couldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with
my own eyes. This old ape-man—he was their chief—was a sort of red
Challenger, with every one of our friend's beauty points, only just a trifle
more so. He had the short body, the big shoulders, the round chest, no neck,
a great ruddy frill of a beard, the tufted eyebrows, the 'What do you want,

damn you!' look about the eyes, and the whole catalogue. When the ape-
man stood by Challenger and put his paw on his shoulder, the thing was
complete. Summerlee was a bit hysterical, and he laughed till he cried. The
ape-men laughed too—or at least they put up the devil of a cacklin'—and
they set to work to drag us off through the forest. They wouldn't touch the
guns and things—thought them dangerous, I expect—but they carried away
all our loose food. Summerlee and I got some rough handlin' on the way—
there's my skin and my clothes to prove it—for they took us a bee-line
through the brambles, and their own hides are like leather. But Challenger
was all right. Four of them carried him shoulder high, and he went like a
Roman emperor. What's that?"

It was a strange clicking noise in the distance not unlike castanets.

"There they go!" said my companion, slipping cartridges into the second
double barrelled "Express." "Load them all up, young fellah my lad, for
we're not going to be taken alive, and don't you think it! That's the row they
make when they are excited. By George! they'll have something to excite
them if they put us up. The 'Last Stand of the Grays' won't be in it. 'With
their rifles grasped in their stiffened hands, mid a ring of the dead and
dyin',' as some fathead sings. Can you hear them now?"

"Very far away."

"That little lot will do no good, but I expect their search parties are all
over the wood. Well, I was telling you my tale of woe. They got us soon to
this town of theirs—about a thousand huts of branches and leaves in a great
grove of trees near the edge of the cliff. It's three or four miles from here.
The filthy beasts fingered me all over, and I feel as if I should never be
clean again. They tied us up—the fellow who handled me could tie like a
bosun—and there we lay with our toes up, beneath a tree, while a great
brute stood guard over us with a club in his hand. When I say 'we' I mean
Summerlee and myself. Old Challenger was up a tree, eatin' pines and
havin' the time of his life. I'm bound to say that he managed to get some
fruit to us, and with his own hands he loosened our bonds. If you'd seen him
sitting up in that tree hob-nobbin' with his twin brother—and singin' in that
rollin' bass of his, 'Ring out, wild bells,' cause music of any kind seemed to
put 'em in a good humor, you'd have smiled; but we weren't in much mood

for laughin', as you can guess. They were inclined, within limits, to let him
do what he liked, but they drew the line pretty sharply at us. It was a mighty
consolation to us all to know that you were runnin' loose and had the
archives in your keepin'.

"Well, now, young fellah, I'll tell you what will surprise you. You say
you saw signs of men, and fires, traps, and the like. Well, we have seen the
natives themselves. Poor devils they were, down-faced little chaps, and had
enough to make them so. It seems that the humans hold one side of this
plateau—over yonder, where you saw the caves—and the ape-men hold this
side, and there is bloody war between them all the time. That's the situation,
so far as I could follow it. Well, yesterday the ape-men got hold of a dozen
of the humans and brought them in as prisoners. You never heard such a
jabberin' and shriekin' in your life. The men were little red fellows, and had
been bitten and clawed so that they could hardly walk. The ape-men put two
of them to death there and then—fairly pulled the arm off one of them—it
was perfectly beastly. Plucky little chaps they are, and hardly gave a
squeak. But it turned us absolutely sick. Summerlee fainted, and even
Challenger had as much as he could stand. I think they have cleared, don't
you?"

We listened intently, but nothing save the calling of the birds broke the
deep peace of the forest. Lord Roxton went on with his story.

"I think you have had the escape of your life, young fellah my lad. It was
catchin' those Indians that put you clean out of their heads, else they would
have been back to the camp for you as sure as fate and gathered you in. Of
course, as you said, they have been watchin' us from the beginnin' out of
that tree, and they knew perfectly well that we were one short. However,
they could think only of this new haul; so it was I, and not a bunch of apes,
that dropped in on you in the morning. Well, we had a horrid business
afterwards. My God! what a nightmare the whole thing is! You remember
the great bristle of sharp canes down below where we found the skeleton of
the American? Well, that is just under ape-town, and that's the jumpin'-off
place of their prisoners. I expect there's heaps of skeletons there, if we
looked for 'em. They have a sort of clear parade-ground on the top, and they
make a proper ceremony about it. One by one the poor devils have to jump,

and the game is to see whether they are merely dashed to pieces or whether
they get skewered on the canes. They took us out to see it, and the whole
tribe lined up on the edge. Four of the Indians jumped, and the canes went
through 'em like knittin' needles through a pat of butter. No wonder we
found that poor Yankee's skeleton with the canes growin' between his ribs.
It was horrible—but it was doocedly interestin' too. We were all fascinated
to see them take the dive, even when we thought it would be our turn next
on the spring-board.

"Well, it wasn't. They kept six of the Indians up for to-day—that's how I
understood it—but I fancy we were to be the star performers in the show.
Challenger might get off, but Summerlee and I were in the bill. Their
language is more than half signs, and it was not hard to follow them. So I
thought it was time we made a break for it. I had been plottin' it out a bit,
and had one or two things clear in my mind. It was all on me, for
Summerlee was useless and Challenger not much better. The only time they
got together they got slangin' because they couldn't agree upon the scientific
classification of these red-headed devils that had got hold of us. One said it
was the dryopithecus of Java, the other said it was pithecanthropus.
Madness, I call it—Loonies, both. But, as I say, I had thought out one or
two points that were helpful. One was that these brutes could not run as fast
as a man in the open. They have short, bandy legs, you see, and heavy
bodies. Even Challenger could give a few yards in a hundred to the best of
them, and you or I would be a perfect Shrubb. Another point was that they
knew nothin' about guns. I don't believe they ever understood how the
fellow I shot came by his hurt. If we could get at our guns there was no
sayin' what we could do.

"So I broke away early this mornin', gave my guard a kick in the tummy
that laid him out, and sprinted for the camp. There I got you and the guns,
and here we are."

"But the professors!" I cried, in consternation.

"Well, we must just go back and fetch 'em. I couldn't bring 'em with me.
Challenger was up the tree, and Summerlee was not fit for the effort. The
only chance was to get the guns and try a rescue. Of course they may
scupper them at once in revenge. I don't think they would touch Challenger,

but I wouldn't answer for Summerlee. But they would have had him in any
case. Of that I am certain. So I haven't made matters any worse by boltin'.
But we are honor bound to go back and have them out or see it through with
them. So you can make up your soul, young fellah my lad, for it will be one
way or the other before evenin'."

I have tried to imitate here Lord Roxton's jerky talk, his short, strong
sentences, the half-humorous, half-reckless tone that ran through it all. But
he was a born leader. As danger thickened his jaunty manner would
increase, his speech become more racy, his cold eyes glitter into ardent life,
and his Don Quixote moustache bristle with joyous excitement. His love of
danger, his intense appreciation of the drama of an adventure—all the more
intense for being held tightly in—his consistent view that every peril in life
is a form of sport, a fierce game betwixt you and Fate, with Death as a
forfeit, made him a wonderful companion at such hours. If it were not for
our fears as to the fate of our companions, it would have been a positive joy
to throw myself with such a man into such an affair. We were rising from
our brushwood hiding-place when suddenly I felt his grip upon my arm.

"By George!" he whispered, "here they come!"

From where we lay we could look down a brown aisle, arched with
green, formed by the trunks and branches. Along this a party of the ape-men
were passing. They went in single file, with bent legs and rounded backs,
their hands occasionally touching the ground, their heads turning to left and
right as they trotted along. Their crouching gait took away from their
height, but I should put them at five feet or so, with long arms and
enormous chests. Many of them carried sticks, and at the distance they
looked like a line of very hairy and deformed human beings. For a moment
I caught this clear glimpse of them. Then they were lost among the bushes.

"Not this time," said Lord John, who had caught up his rifle. "Our best
chance is to lie quiet until they have given up the search. Then we shall see
whether we can't get back to their town and hit 'em where it hurts most.
Give 'em an hour and we'll march."

We filled in the time by opening one of our food tins and making sure of
our breakfast. Lord Roxton had had nothing but some fruit since the

morning before and ate like a starving man. Then, at last, our pockets
bulging with cartridges and a rifle in each hand, we started off upon our
mission of rescue. Before leaving it we carefully marked our little hiding-
place among the brush-wood and its bearing to Fort Challenger, that we
might find it again if we needed it. We slunk through the bushes in silence
until we came to the very edge of the cliff, close to the old camp. There we
halted, and Lord John gave me some idea of his plans.

"So long as we are among the thick trees these swine are our masters,"
said he. "They can see us and we cannot see them. But in the open it is
different. There we can move faster than they. So we must stick to the open
all we can. The edge of the plateau has fewer large trees than further inland.
So that's our line of advance. Go slowly, keep your eyes open and your rifle
ready. Above all, never let them get you prisoner while there is a cartridge
left—that's my last word to you, young fellah."

When we reached the edge of the cliff I looked over and saw our good
old black Zambo sitting smoking on a rock below us. I would have given a
great deal to have hailed him and told him how we were placed, but it was
too dangerous, lest we should be heard. The woods seemed to be full of the
ape-men; again and again we heard their curious clicking chatter. At such
times we plunged into the nearest clump of bushes and lay still until the
sound had passed away. Our advance, therefore, was very slow, and two
hours at least must have passed before I saw by Lord John's cautious
movements that we must be close to our destination. He motioned to me to
lie still, and he crawled forward himself. In a minute he was back again, his
face quivering with eagerness.

"Come!" said he. "Come quick! I hope to the Lord we are not too late
already!"

I found myself shaking with nervous excitement as I scrambled forward
and lay down beside him, looking out through the bushes at a clearing
which stretched before us.

It was a sight which I shall never forget until my dying day—so weird,
so impossible, that I do not know how I am to make you realize it, or how
in a few years I shall bring myself to believe in it if I live to sit once more

on a lounge in the Savage Club and look out on the drab solidity of the
Embankment. I know that it will seem then to be some wild nightmare,
some delirium of fever. Yet I will set it down now, while it is still fresh in
my memory, and one at least, the man who lay in the damp grasses by my
side, will know if I have lied.

A wide, open space lay before us—some hundreds of yards across—all
green turf and low bracken growing to the very edge of the cliff. Round this
clearing there was a semi-circle of trees with curious huts built of foliage
piled one above the other among the branches. A rookery, with every nest a
little house, would best convey the idea. The openings of these huts and the
branches of the trees were thronged with a dense mob of ape-people, whom
from their size I took to be the females and infants of the tribe. They formed
the background of the picture, and were all looking out with eager interest
at the same scene which fascinated and bewildered us.

In the open, and near the edge of the cliff, there had assembled a crowd
of some hundred of these shaggy, red-haired creatures, many of them of
immense size, and all of them horrible to look upon. There was a certain
discipline among them, for none of them attempted to break the line which
had been formed. In front there stood a small group of Indians—little,
clean-limbed, red fellows, whose skins glowed like polished bronze in the
strong sunlight. A tall, thin white man was standing beside them, his head
bowed, his arms folded, his whole attitude expressive of his horror and
dejection. There was no mistaking the angular form of Professor
Summerlee.

In front of and around this dejected group of prisoners were several ape-
men, who watched them closely and made all escape impossible. Then,
right out from all the others and close to the edge of the cliff, were two
figures, so strange, and under other circumstances so ludicrous, that they
absorbed my attention. The one was our comrade, Professor Challenger.
The remains of his coat still hung in strips from his shoulders, but his shirt
had been all torn out, and his great beard merged itself in the black tangle
which covered his mighty chest. He had lost his hat, and his hair, which had
grown long in our wanderings, was flying in wild disorder. A single day
seemed to have changed him from the highest product of modern

civilization to the most desperate savage in South America. Beside him
stood his master, the king of the ape-men. In all things he was, as Lord John
had said, the very image of our Professor, save that his coloring was red
instead of black. The same short, broad figure, the same heavy shoulders,
the same forward hang of the arms, the same bristling beard merging itself
in the hairy chest. Only above the eyebrows, where the sloping forehead
and low, curved skull of the ape-man were in sharp contrast to the broad
brow and magnificent cranium of the European, could one see any marked
difference. At every other point the king was an absurd parody of the
Professor.

All this, which takes me so long to describe, impressed itself upon me in
a few seconds. Then we had very different things to think of, for an active
drama was in progress. Two of the ape-men had seized one of the Indians
out of the group and dragged him forward to the edge of the cliff. The king
raised his hand as a signal. They caught the man by his leg and arm, and
swung him three times backwards and forwards with tremendous violence.
Then, with a frightful heave they shot the poor wretch over the precipice.
With such force did they throw him that he curved high in the air before
beginning to drop. As he vanished from sight, the whole assembly, except
the guards, rushed forward to the edge of the precipice, and there was a
long pause of absolute silence, broken by a mad yell of delight. They sprang
about, tossing their long, hairy arms in the air and howling with exultation.
Then they fell back from the edge, formed themselves again into line, and
waited for the next victim.

This time it was Summerlee. Two of his guards caught him by the wrists
and pulled him brutally to the front. His thin figure and long limbs
struggled and fluttered like a chicken being dragged from a coop.
Challenger had turned to the king and waved his hands frantically before
him. He was begging, pleading, imploring for his comrade's life. The ape-
man pushed him roughly aside and shook his head. It was the last conscious
movement he was to make upon earth. Lord John's rifle cracked, and the
king sank down, a tangled red sprawling thing, upon the ground.

"Shoot into the thick of them! Shoot! sonny, shoot!" cried my
companion.

There are strange red depths in the soul of the most commonplace man. I
am tenderhearted by nature, and have found my eyes moist many a time
over the scream of a wounded hare. Yet the blood lust was on me now. I
found myself on my feet emptying one magazine, then the other, clicking
open the breech to re-load, snapping it to again, while cheering and yelling
with pure ferocity and joy of slaughter as I did so. With our four guns the
two of us made a horrible havoc. Both the guards who held Summerlee
were down, and he was staggering about like a drunken man in his
amazement, unable to realize that he was a free man. The dense mob of ape-
men ran about in bewilderment, marveling whence this storm of death was
coming or what it might mean. They waved, gesticulated, screamed, and
tripped up over those who had fallen. Then, with a sudden impulse, they all
rushed in a howling crowd to the trees for shelter, leaving the ground
behind them spotted with their stricken comrades. The prisoners were left
for the moment standing alone in the middle of the clearing.

Challenger's quick brain had grasped the situation. He seized the
bewildered Summerlee by the arm, and they both ran towards us. Two of
their guards bounded after them and fell to two bullets from Lord John. We
ran forward into the open to meet our friends, and pressed a loaded rifle into
the hands of each. But Summerlee was at the end of his strength. He could
hardly totter. Already the ape-men were recovering from their panic. They
were coming through the brushwood and threatening to cut us off.
Challenger and I ran Summerlee along, one at each of his elbows, while
Lord John covered our retreat, firing again and again as savage heads
snarled at us out of the bushes. For a mile or more the chattering brutes
were at our very heels. Then the pursuit slackened, for they learned our
power and would no longer face that unerring rifle. When we had at last
reached the camp, we looked back and found ourselves alone.

So it seemed to us; and yet we were mistaken. We had hardly closed the
thornbush door of our zareba, clasped each other's hands, and thrown
ourselves panting upon the ground beside our spring, when we heard a
patter of feet and then a gentle, plaintive crying from outside our entrance.
Lord Roxton rushed forward, rifle in hand, and threw it open. There,
prostrate upon their faces, lay the little red figures of the four surviving
Indians, trembling with fear of us and yet imploring our protection. With an

expressive sweep of his hands one of them pointed to the woods around
them, and indicated that they were full of danger. Then, darting forward, he
threw his arms round Lord John's legs, and rested his face upon them.

"By George!" cried our peer, pulling at his moustache in great perplexity,
"I say—what the deuce are we to do with these people? Get up, little
chappie, and take your face off my boots."

Summerlee was sitting up and stuffing some tobacco into his old briar.

"We've got to see them safe," said he. "You've pulled us all out of the
jaws of death. My word! it was a good bit of work!"

"Admirable!" cried Challenger. "Admirable! Not only we as individuals,
but European science collectively, owe you a deep debt of gratitude for
what you have done. I do not hesitate to say that the disappearance of
Professor Summerlee and myself would have left an appreciable gap in
modern zoological history. Our young friend here and you have done most
excellently well."

He beamed at us with the old paternal smile, but European science
would have been somewhat amazed could they have seen their chosen
child, the hope of the future, with his tangled, unkempt head, his bare chest,
and his tattered clothes. He had one of the meat-tins between his knees, and
sat with a large piece of cold Australian mutton between his fingers. The
Indian looked up at him, and then, with a little yelp, cringed to the ground
and clung to Lord John's leg.

"Don't you be scared, my bonnie boy," said Lord John, patting the
matted head in front of him. "He can't stick your appearance, Challenger;
and, by George! I don't wonder. All right, little chap, he's only a human, just
the same as the rest of us."

"Really, sir!" cried the Professor.

"Well, it's lucky for you, Challenger, that you ARE a little out of the
ordinary. If you hadn't been so like the king——"

"Upon my word, Lord John, you allow yourself great latitude."

"Well, it's a fact."

"I beg, sir, that you will change the subject. Your remarks are irrelevant
and unintelligible. The question before us is what are we to do with these
Indians? The obvious thing is to escort them home, if we knew where their
home was."

"There is no difficulty about that," said I. "They live in the caves on the
other side of the central lake."

"Our young friend here knows where they live. I gather that it is some
distance."

"A good twenty miles," said I.

Summerlee gave a groan.

"I, for one, could never get there. Surely I hear those brutes still howling
upon our track."

As he spoke, from the dark recesses of the woods we heard far away the
jabbering cry of the ape-men. The Indians once more set up a feeble wail of
fear.

"We must move, and move quick!" said Lord John. "You help
Summerlee, young fellah. These Indians will carry stores. Now, then, come
along before they can see us."

In less than half-an-hour we had reached our brushwood retreat and
concealed ourselves. All day we heard the excited calling of the ape-men in
the direction of our old camp, but none of them came our way, and the tired
fugitives, red and white, had a long, deep sleep. I was dozing myself in the
evening when someone plucked my sleeve, and I found Challenger kneeling
beside me.

"You keep a diary of these events, and you expect eventually to publish
it, Mr. Malone," said he, with solemnity.

"I am only here as a Press reporter," I answered.

"Exactly. You may have heard some rather fatuous remarks of Lord John
Roxton's which seemed to imply that there was some—some resemblance
——"

"Yes, I heard them."

"I need not say that any publicity given to such an idea—any levity in
your narrative of what occurred—would be exceedingly offensive to me."

"I will keep well within the truth."

"Lord John's observations are frequently exceedingly fanciful, and he is
capable of attributing the most absurd reasons to the respect which is
always shown by the most undeveloped races to dignity and character. You
follow my meaning?"

"Entirely."

"I leave the matter to your discretion." Then, after a long pause, he
added: "The king of the ape-men was really a creature of great distinction—
a most remarkably handsome and intelligent personality. Did it not strike
you?"

"A most remarkable creature," said I.

And the Professor, much eased in his mind, settled down to his slumber
once more.

CHAPTER XIV

"Those Were the Real Conquests"

We had imagined that our pursuers, the ape-men, knew nothing of our
brush-wood hiding-place, but we were soon to find out our mistake. There
was no sound in the woods—not a leaf moved upon the trees, and all was
peace around us—but we should have been warned by our first experience
how cunningly and how patiently these creatures can watch and wait until
their chance comes. Whatever fate may be mine through life, I am very sure
that I shall never be nearer death than I was that morning. But I will tell you
the thing in its due order.

We all awoke exhausted after the terrific emotions and scanty food of
yesterday. Summerlee was still so weak that it was an effort for him to
stand; but the old man was full of a sort of surly courage which would never
admit defeat. A council was held, and it was agreed that we should wait
quietly for an hour or two where we were, have our much-needed breakfast,
and then make our way across the plateau and round the central lake to the
caves where my observations had shown that the Indians lived. We relied
upon the fact that we could count upon the good word of those whom we
had rescued to ensure a warm welcome from their fellows. Then, with our
mission accomplished and possessing a fuller knowledge of the secrets of
Maple White Land, we should turn our whole thoughts to the vital problem
of our escape and return. Even Challenger was ready to admit that we
should then have done all for which we had come, and that our first duty
from that time onwards was to carry back to civilization the amazing
discoveries we had made.

We were able now to take a more leisurely view of the Indians whom we
had rescued. They were small men, wiry, active, and well-built, with lank
black hair tied up in a bunch behind their heads with a leathern thong, and
leathern also were their loin-clothes. Their faces were hairless, well formed,
and good-humored. The lobes of their ears, hanging ragged and bloody,
showed that they had been pierced for some ornaments which their captors
had torn out. Their speech, though unintelligible to us, was fluent among
themselves, and as they pointed to each other and uttered the word "Accala"
many times over, we gathered that this was the name of the nation.
Occasionally, with faces which were convulsed with fear and hatred, they
shook their clenched hands at the woods round and cried: "Doda! Doda!"
which was surely their term for their enemies.

"What do you make of them, Challenger?" asked Lord John. "One thing
is very clear to me, and that is that the little chap with the front of his head
shaved is a chief among them."

It was indeed evident that this man stood apart from the others, and that
they never ventured to address him without every sign of deep respect. He
seemed to be the youngest of them all, and yet, so proud and high was his
spirit that, upon Challenger laying his great hand upon his head, he started
like a spurred horse and, with a quick flash of his dark eyes, moved further
away from the Professor. Then, placing his hand upon his breast and
holding himself with great dignity, he uttered the word "Maretas" several
times. The Professor, unabashed, seized the nearest Indian by the shoulder
and proceeded to lecture upon him as if he were a potted specimen in a
class-room.

"The type of these people," said he in his sonorous fashion, "whether
judged by cranial capacity, facial angle, or any other test, cannot be
regarded as a low one; on the contrary, we must place it as considerably
higher in the scale than many South American tribes which I can mention.
On no possible supposition can we explain the evolution of such a race in
this place. For that matter, so great a gap separates these ape-men from the
primitive animals which have survived upon this plateau, that it is
inadmissible to think that they could have developed where we find them."

"Then where the dooce did they drop from?" asked Lord John.

"A question which will, no doubt, be eagerly discussed in every
scientific society in Europe and America," the Professor answered. "My
own reading of the situation for what it is worth—" he inflated his chest
enormously and looked insolently around him at the words—"is that
evolution has advanced under the peculiar conditions of this country up to
the vertebrate stage, the old types surviving and living on in company with
the newer ones. Thus we find such modern creatures as the tapir—an
animal with quite a respectable length of pedigree—the great deer, and the
ant-eater in the companionship of reptilian forms of jurassic type. So much
is clear. And now come the ape-men and the Indian. What is the scientific
mind to think of their presence? I can only account for it by an invasion
from outside. It is probable that there existed an anthropoid ape in South

America, who in past ages found his way to this place, and that he
developed into the creatures we have seen, some of which"—here he looked
hard at me—"were of an appearance and shape which, if it had been
accompanied by corresponding intelligence, would, I do not hesitate to say,
have reflected credit upon any living race. As to the Indians I cannot doubt
that they are more recent immigrants from below. Under the stress of
famine or of conquest they have made their way up here. Faced by
ferocious creatures which they had never before seen, they took refuge in
the caves which our young friend has described, but they have no doubt had
a bitter fight to hold their own against wild beasts, and especially against
the ape-men who would regard them as intruders, and wage a merciless war
upon them with a cunning which the larger beasts would lack. Hence the
fact that their numbers appear to be limited. Well, gentlemen, have I read
you the riddle aright, or is there any point which you would query?"

Professor Summerlee for once was too depressed to argue, though he
shook his head violently as a token of general disagreement. Lord John
merely scratched his scanty locks with the remark that he couldn't put up a
fight as he wasn't in the same weight or class. For my own part I performed
my usual role of bringing things down to a strictly prosaic and practical
level by the remark that one of the Indians was missing.

"He has gone to fetch some water," said Lord Roxton. "We fitted him up
with an empty beef tin and he is off."

"To the old camp?" I asked.

"No, to the brook. It's among the trees there. It can't be more than a
couple of hundred yards. But the beggar is certainly taking his time."

"I'll go and look after him," said I. I picked up my rifle and strolled in
the direction of the brook, leaving my friends to lay out the scanty
breakfast. It may seem to you rash that even for so short a distance I should
quit the shelter of our friendly thicket, but you will remember that we were
many miles from Ape-town, that so far as we knew the creatures had not
discovered our retreat, and that in any case with a rifle in my hands I had no
fear of them. I had not yet learned their cunning or their strength.

I could hear the murmur of our brook somewhere ahead of me, but there
was a tangle of trees and brushwood between me and it. I was making my
way through this at a point which was just out of sight of my companions,
when, under one of the trees, I noticed something red huddled among the
bushes. As I approached it, I was shocked to see that it was the dead body
of the missing Indian. He lay upon his side, his limbs drawn up, and his
head screwed round at a most unnatural angle, so that he seemed to be
looking straight over his own shoulder. I gave a cry to warn my friends that
something was amiss, and running forwards I stooped over the body. Surely
my guardian angel was very near me then, for some instinct of fear, or it
may have been some faint rustle of leaves, made me glance upwards. Out of
the thick green foliage which hung low over my head, two long muscular
arms covered with reddish hair were slowly descending. Another instant
and the great stealthy hands would have been round my throat. I sprang
backwards, but quick as I was, those hands were quicker still. Through my
sudden spring they missed a fatal grip, but one of them caught the back of
my neck and the other one my face. I threw my hands up to protect my
throat, and the next moment the huge paw had slid down my face and
closed over them. I was lifted lightly from the ground, and I felt an
intolerable pressure forcing my head back and back until the strain upon the
cervical spine was more than I could bear. My senses swam, but I still tore
at the hand and forced it out from my chin. Looking up I saw a frightful
face with cold inexorable light blue eyes looking down into mine. There
was something hypnotic in those terrible eyes. I could struggle no longer.
As the creature felt me grow limp in his grasp, two white canines gleamed
for a moment at each side of the vile mouth, and the grip tightened still
more upon my chin, forcing it always upwards and back. A thin, oval-tinted
mist formed before my eyes and little silvery bells tinkled in my ears. Dully
and far off I heard the crack of a rifle and was feebly aware of the shock as I
was dropped to the earth, where I lay without sense or motion.

I awoke to find myself on my back upon the grass in our lair within the
thicket. Someone had brought the water from the brook, and Lord John was
sprinkling my head with it, while Challenger and Summerlee were propping
me up, with concern in their faces. For a moment I had a glimpse of the
human spirits behind their scientific masks. It was really shock, rather than

any injury, which had prostrated me, and in half-an-hour, in spite of aching
head and stiff neck, I was sitting up and ready for anything.

"But you've had the escape of your life, young fellah my lad," said Lord
Roxton. "When I heard your cry and ran forward, and saw your head
twisted half-off and your stohwassers kickin' in the air, I thought we were
one short. I missed the beast in my flurry, but he dropped you all right and
was off like a streak. By George! I wish I had fifty men with rifles. I'd clear
out the whole infernal gang of them and leave this country a bit cleaner than
we found it."

It was clear now that the ape-men had in some way marked us down, and
that we were watched on every side. We had not so much to fear from them
during the day, but they would be very likely to rush us by night; so the
sooner we got away from their neighborhood the better. On three sides of us
was absolute forest, and there we might find ourselves in an ambush. But on
the fourth side—that which sloped down in the direction of the lake—there
was only low scrub, with scattered trees and occasional open glades. It was,
in fact, the route which I had myself taken in my solitary journey, and it led
us straight for the Indian caves. This then must for every reason be our road.

One great regret we had, and that was to leave our old camp behind us,
not only for the sake of the stores which remained there, but even more
because we were losing touch with Zambo, our link with the outside world.
However, we had a fair supply of cartridges and all our guns, so, for a time
at least, we could look after ourselves, and we hoped soon to have a chance
of returning and restoring our communications with our negro. He had
faithfully promised to stay where he was, and we had not a doubt that he
would be as good as his word.

It was in the early afternoon that we started upon our journey. The young
chief walked at our head as our guide, but refused indignantly to carry any
burden. Behind him came the two surviving Indians with our scanty
possessions upon their backs. We four white men walked in the rear with
rifles loaded and ready. As we started there broke from the thick silent
woods behind us a sudden great ululation of the ape-men, which may have
been a cheer of triumph at our departure or a jeer of contempt at our flight.
Looking back we saw only the dense screen of trees, but that long-drawn

yell told us how many of our enemies lurked among them. We saw no sign
of pursuit, however, and soon we had got into more open country and
beyond their power.

As I tramped along, the rearmost of the four, I could not help smiling at
the appearance of my three companions in front. Was this the luxurious
Lord John Roxton who had sat that evening in the Albany amidst his
Persian rugs and his pictures in the pink radiance of the tinted lights? And
was this the imposing Professor who had swelled behind the great desk in
his massive study at Enmore Park? And, finally, could this be the austere
and prim figure which had risen before the meeting at the Zoological
Institute? No three tramps that one could have met in a Surrey lane could
have looked more hopeless and bedraggled. We had, it is true, been only a
week or so upon the top of the plateau, but all our spare clothing was in our
camp below, and the one week had been a severe one upon us all, though
least to me who had not to endure the handling of the ape-men. My three
friends had all lost their hats, and had now bound handkerchiefs round their
heads, their clothes hung in ribbons about them, and their unshaven grimy
faces were hardly to be recognized. Both Summerlee and Challenger were
limping heavily, while I still dragged my feet from weakness after the shock
of the morning, and my neck was as stiff as a board from the murderous
grip that held it. We were indeed a sorry crew, and I did not wonder to see
our Indian companions glance back at us occasionally with horror and
amazement on their faces.

In the late afternoon we reached the margin of the lake, and as we
emerged from the bush and saw the sheet of water stretching before us our
native friends set up a shrill cry of joy and pointed eagerly in front of them.
It was indeed a wonderful sight which lay before us. Sweeping over the
glassy surface was a great flotilla of canoes coming straight for the shore
upon which we stood. They were some miles out when we first saw them,
but they shot forward with great swiftness, and were soon so near that the
rowers could distinguish our persons. Instantly a thunderous shout of
delight burst from them, and we saw them rise from their seats, waving
their paddles and spears madly in the air. Then bending to their work once
more, they flew across the intervening water, beached their boats upon the
sloping sand, and rushed up to us, prostrating themselves with loud cries of

greeting before the young chief. Finally one of them, an elderly man, with a
necklace and bracelet of great lustrous glass beads and the skin of some
beautiful mottled amber-colored animal slung over his shoulders, ran
forward and embraced most tenderly the youth whom we had saved. He
then looked at us and asked some questions, after which he stepped up with
much dignity and embraced us also each in turn. Then, at his order, the
whole tribe lay down upon the ground before us in homage. Personally I
felt shy and uncomfortable at this obsequious adoration, and I read the same
feeling in the faces of Roxton and Summerlee, but Challenger expanded
like a flower in the sun.

"They may be undeveloped types," said he, stroking his beard and
looking round at them, "but their deportment in the presence of their
superiors might be a lesson to some of our more advanced Europeans.
Strange how correct are the instincts of the natural man!"

It was clear that the natives had come out upon the war-path, for every
man carried his spear—a long bamboo tipped with bone—his bow and
arrows, and some sort of club or stone battle-axe slung at his side. Their
dark, angry glances at the woods from which we had come, and the frequent
repetition of the word "Doda," made it clear enough that this was a rescue
party who had set forth to save or revenge the old chief's son, for such we
gathered that the youth must be. A council was now held by the whole tribe
squatting in a circle, whilst we sat near on a slab of basalt and watched their
proceedings. Two or three warriors spoke, and finally our young friend
made a spirited harangue with such eloquent features and gestures that we
could understand it all as clearly as if we had known his language.

"What is the use of returning?" he said. "Sooner or later the thing must
be done. Your comrades have been murdered. What if I have returned safe?
These others have been done to death. There is no safety for any of us. We
are assembled now and ready." Then he pointed to us. "These strange men
are our friends. They are great fighters, and they hate the ape-men even as
we do. They command," here he pointed up to heaven, "the thunder and the
lightning. When shall we have such a chance again? Let us go forward, and
either die now or live for the future in safety. How else shall we go back
unashamed to our women?"

The little red warriors hung upon the words of the speaker, and when he
had finished they burst into a roar of applause, waving their rude weapons
in the air. The old chief stepped forward to us, and asked us some questions,
pointing at the same time to the woods. Lord John made a sign to him that
he should wait for an answer and then he turned to us.

"Well, it's up to you to say what you will do," said he; "for my part I
have a score to settle with these monkey-folk, and if it ends by wiping them
off the face of the earth I don't see that the earth need fret about it. I'm goin'
with our little red pals and I mean to see them through the scrap. What do
you say, young fellah?"

"Of course I will come."

"And you, Challenger?"

"I will assuredly co-operate."

"And you, Summerlee?"

"We seem to be drifting very far from the object of this expedition, Lord
John. I assure you that I little thought when I left my professional chair in
London that it was for the purpose of heading a raid of savages upon a
colony of anthropoid apes."

"To such base uses do we come," said Lord John, smiling. "But we are
up against it, so what's the decision?"

"It seems a most questionable step," said Summerlee, argumentative to
the last, "but if you are all going, I hardly see how I can remain behind."

"Then it is settled," said Lord John, and turning to the chief he nodded
and slapped his rifle.

The old fellow clasped our hands, each in turn, while his men cheered
louder than ever. It was too late to advance that night, so the Indians settled
down into a rude bivouac. On all sides their fires began to glimmer and
smoke. Some of them who had disappeared into the jungle came back

presently driving a young iguanodon before them. Like the others, it had a
daub of asphalt upon its shoulder, and it was only when we saw one of the
natives step forward with the air of an owner and give his consent to the
beast's slaughter that we understood at last that these great creatures were as
much private property as a herd of cattle, and that these symbols which had
so perplexed us were nothing more than the marks of the owner. Helpless,
torpid, and vegetarian, with great limbs but a minute brain, they could be
rounded up and driven by a child. In a few minutes the huge beast had been
cut up and slabs of him were hanging over a dozen camp fires, together
with great scaly ganoid fish which had been speared in the lake.

Summerlee had lain down and slept upon the sand, but we others roamed
round the edge of the water, seeking to learn something more of this strange
country. Twice we found pits of blue clay, such as we had already seen in
the swamp of the pterodactyls. These were old volcanic vents, and for some
reason excited the greatest interest in Lord John. What attracted Challenger,
on the other hand, was a bubbling, gurgling mud geyser, where some
strange gas formed great bursting bubbles upon the surface. He thrust a
hollow reed into it and cried out with delight like a schoolboy then he was
able, on touching it with a lighted match, to cause a sharp explosion and a
blue flame at the far end of the tube. Still more pleased was he when,
inverting a leathern pouch over the end of the reed, and so filling it with the
gas, he was able to send it soaring up into the air.

"An inflammable gas, and one markedly lighter than the atmosphere. I
should say beyond doubt that it contained a considerable proportion of free
hydrogen. The resources of G. E. C. are not yet exhausted, my young
friend. I may yet show you how a great mind molds all Nature to its use."
He swelled with some secret purpose, but would say no more.

There was nothing which we could see upon the shore which seemed to
me so wonderful as the great sheet of water before us. Our numbers and our
noise had frightened all living creatures away, and save for a few
pterodactyls, which soared round high above our heads while they waited
for the carrion, all was still around the camp. But it was different out upon
the rose-tinted waters of the central lake. It boiled and heaved with strange
life. Great slate-colored backs and high serrated dorsal fins shot up with a

fringe of silver, and then rolled down into the depths again. The sand-banks
far out were spotted with uncouth crawling forms, huge turtles, strange
saurians, and one great flat creature like a writhing, palpitating mat of black
greasy leather, which flopped its way slowly to the lake. Here and there
high serpent heads projected out of the water, cutting swiftly through it with
a little collar of foam in front, and a long swirling wake behind, rising and
falling in graceful, swan-like undulations as they went. It was not until one
of these creatures wriggled on to a sand-bank within a few hundred yards of
us, and exposed a barrel-shaped body and huge flippers behind the long
serpent neck, that Challenger, and Summerlee, who had joined us, broke out
into their duet of wonder and admiration.

"Plesiosaurus! A fresh-water plesiosaurus!" cried Summerlee. "That I
should have lived to see such a sight! We are blessed, my dear Challenger,
above all zoologists since the world began!"

It was not until the night had fallen, and the fires of our savage allies
glowed red in the shadows, that our two men of science could be dragged
away from the fascinations of that primeval lake. Even in the darkness as
we lay upon the strand, we heard from time to time the snort and plunge of
the huge creatures who lived therein.

At earliest dawn our camp was astir and an hour later we had started
upon our memorable expedition. Often in my dreams have I thought that I
might live to be a war correspondent. In what wildest one could I have
conceived the nature of the campaign which it should be my lot to report!
Here then is my first despatch from a field of battle:

Our numbers had been reinforced during the night by a fresh batch of
natives from the caves, and we may have been four or five hundred strong
when we made our advance. A fringe of scouts was thrown out in front, and
behind them the whole force in a solid column made their way up the long
slope of the bush country until we were near the edge of the forest. Here
they spread out into a long straggling line of spearmen and bowmen.
Roxton and Summerlee took their position upon the right flank, while
Challenger and I were on the left. It was a host of the stone age that we
were accompanying to battle—we with the last word of the gunsmith's art
from St. James' Street and the Strand.

We had not long to wait for our enemy. A wild shrill clamor rose from
the edge of the wood and suddenly a body of ape-men rushed out with clubs
and stones, and made for the center of the Indian line. It was a valiant move
but a foolish one, for the great bandy-legged creatures were slow of foot,
while their opponents were as active as cats. It was horrible to see the fierce
brutes with foaming mouths and glaring eyes, rushing and grasping, but
forever missing their elusive enemies, while arrow after arrow buried itself
in their hides. One great fellow ran past me roaring with pain, with a dozen
darts sticking from his chest and ribs. In mercy I put a bullet through his
skull, and he fell sprawling among the aloes. But this was the only shot
fired, for the attack had been on the center of the line, and the Indians there
had needed no help of ours in repulsing it. Of all the ape-men who had
rushed out into the open, I do not think that one got back to cover.

But the matter was more deadly when we came among the trees. For an
hour or more after we entered the wood, there was a desperate struggle in
which for a time we hardly held our own. Springing out from among the
scrub the ape-men with huge clubs broke in upon the Indians and often
felled three or four of them before they could be speared. Their frightful
blows shattered everything upon which they fell. One of them knocked
Summerlee's rifle to matchwood and the next would have crushed his skull
had an Indian not stabbed the beast to the heart. Other ape-men in the trees
above us hurled down stones and logs of wood, occasionally dropping
bodily on to our ranks and fighting furiously until they were felled. Once
our allies broke under the pressure, and had it not been for the execution
done by our rifles they would certainly have taken to their heels. But they
were gallantly rallied by their old chief and came on with such a rush that
the ape-men began in turn to give way. Summerlee was weaponless, but I
was emptying my magazine as quick as I could fire, and on the further flank
we heard the continuous cracking of our companion's rifles.

Then in a moment came the panic and the collapse. Screaming and
howling, the great creatures rushed away in all directions through the
brushwood, while our allies yelled in their savage delight, following swiftly
after their flying enemies. All the feuds of countless generations, all the
hatreds and cruelties of their narrow history, all the memories of ill-usage
and persecution were to be purged that day. At last man was to be supreme

and the man-beast to find forever his allotted place. Fly as they would the
fugitives were too slow to escape from the active savages, and from every
side in the tangled woods we heard the exultant yells, the twanging of bows,
and the crash and thud as ape-men were brought down from their hiding-
places in the trees.

I was following the others, when I found that Lord John and Challenger
had come across to join us.

"It's over," said Lord John. "I think we can leave the tidying up to them.
Perhaps the less we see of it the better we shall sleep."

Challenger's eyes were shining with the lust of slaughter.

"We have been privileged," he cried, strutting about like a gamecock, "to
be present at one of the typical decisive battles of history—the battles
which have determined the fate of the world. What, my friends, is the
conquest of one nation by another? It is meaningless. Each produces the
same result. But those fierce fights, when in the dawn of the ages the cave-
dwellers held their own against the tiger folk, or the elephants first found
that they had a master, those were the real conquests—the victories that
count. By this strange turn of fate we have seen and helped to decide even
such a contest. Now upon this plateau the future must ever be for man."

It needed a robust faith in the end to justify such tragic means. As we
advanced together through the woods we found the ape-men lying thick,
transfixed with spears or arrows. Here and there a little group of shattered
Indians marked where one of the anthropoids had turned to bay, and sold
his life dearly. Always in front of us we heard the yelling and roaring which
showed the direction of the pursuit. The ape-men had been driven back to
their city, they had made a last stand there, once again they had been
broken, and now we were in time to see the final fearful scene of all. Some
eighty or a hundred males, the last survivors, had been driven across that
same little clearing which led to the edge of the cliff, the scene of our own
exploit two days before. As we arrived the Indians, a semicircle of
spearmen, had closed in on them, and in a minute it was over, Thirty or
forty died where they stood. The others, screaming and clawing, were thrust
over the precipice, and went hurtling down, as their prisoners had of old, on

to the sharp bamboos six hundred feet below. It was as Challenger had said,
and the reign of man was assured forever in Maple White Land. The males
were exterminated, Ape Town was destroyed, the females and young were
driven away to live in bondage, and the long rivalry of untold centuries had
reached its bloody end.

For us the victory brought much advantage. Once again we were able to
visit our camp and get at our stores. Once more also we were able to
communicate with Zambo, who had been terrified by the spectacle from
afar of an avalanche of apes falling from the edge of the cliff.

"Come away, Massas, come away!" he cried, his eyes starting from his
head. "The debbil get you sure if you stay up there."

"It is the voice of sanity!" said Summerlee with conviction. "We have
had adventures enough and they are neither suitable to our character or our
position. I hold you to your word, Challenger. From now onwards you
devote your energies to getting us out of this horrible country and back once
more to civilization."

CHAPTER XV

"Our Eyes have seen Great Wonders"

I write this from day to day, but I trust that before I come to the end of it,
I may be able to say that the light shines, at last, through our clouds. We are
held here with no clear means of making our escape, and bitterly we chafe
against it. Yet, I can well imagine that the day may come when we may be
glad that we were kept, against our will, to see something more of the
wonders of this singular place, and of the creatures who inhabit it.

The victory of the Indians and the annihilation of the ape-men, marked
the turning point of our fortunes. From then onwards, we were in truth

masters of the plateau, for the natives looked upon us with a mixture of fear
and gratitude, since by our strange powers we had aided them to destroy
their hereditary foe. For their own sakes they would, perhaps, be glad to see
the departure of such formidable and incalculable people, but they have not
themselves suggested any way by which we may reach the plains below.
There had been, so far as we could follow their signs, a tunnel by which the
place could be approached, the lower exit of which we had seen from
below. By this, no doubt, both ape-men and Indians had at different epochs
reached the top, and Maple White with his companion had taken the same
way. Only the year before, however, there had been a terrific earthquake,
and the upper end of the tunnel had fallen in and completely disappeared.
The Indians now could only shake their heads and shrug their shoulders
when we expressed by signs our desire to descend. It may be that they
cannot, but it may also be that they will not, help us to get away.

At the end of the victorious campaign the surviving ape-folk were driven
across the plateau (their wailings were horrible) and established in the
neighborhood of the Indian caves, where they would, from now onwards,
be a servile race under the eyes of their masters. It was a rude, raw,
primeval version of the Jews in Babylon or the Israelites in Egypt. At night
we could hear from amid the trees the long-drawn cry, as some primitive
Ezekiel mourned for fallen greatness and recalled the departed glories of
Ape Town. Hewers of wood and drawers of water, such were they from
now onwards.

We had returned across the plateau with our allies two days after the
battle, and made our camp at the foot of their cliffs. They would have had
us share their caves with them, but Lord John would by no means consent
to it considering that to do so would put us in their power if they were
treacherously disposed. We kept our independence, therefore, and had our
weapons ready for any emergency, while preserving the most friendly
relations. We also continually visited their caves, which were most
remarkable places, though whether made by man or by Nature we have
never been able to determine. They were all on the one stratum, hollowed
out of some soft rock which lay between the volcanic basalt forming the
ruddy cliffs above them, and the hard granite which formed their base.

The openings were about eighty feet above the ground, and were led up
to by long stone stairs, so narrow and steep that no large animal could
mount them. Inside they were warm and dry, running in straight passages of
varying length into the side of the hill, with smooth gray walls decorated
with many excellent pictures done with charred sticks and representing the
various animals of the plateau. If every living thing were swept from the
country the future explorer would find upon the walls of these caves ample
evidence of the strange fauna—the dinosaurs, iguanodons, and fish lizards
—which had lived so recently upon earth.

Since we had learned that the huge iguanodons were kept as tame herds
by their owners, and were simply walking meat-stores, we had conceived
that man, even with his primitive weapons, had established his ascendancy
upon the plateau. We were soon to discover that it was not so, and that he
was still there upon tolerance.

It was on the third day after our forming our camp near the Indian caves
that the tragedy occurred. Challenger and Summerlee had gone off together
that day to the lake where some of the natives, under their direction, were
engaged in harpooning specimens of the great lizards. Lord John and I had
remained in our camp, while a number of the Indians were scattered about
upon the grassy slope in front of the caves engaged in different ways.
Suddenly there was a shrill cry of alarm, with the word "Stoa" resounding
from a hundred tongues. From every side men, women, and children were
rushing wildly for shelter, swarming up the staircases and into the caves in a
mad stampede.

Looking up, we could see them waving their arms from the rocks above
and beckoning to us to join them in their refuge. We had both seized our
magazine rifles and ran out to see what the danger could be. Suddenly from
the near belt of trees there broke forth a group of twelve or fifteen Indians,
running for their lives, and at their very heels two of those frightful
monsters which had disturbed our camp and pursued me upon my solitary
journey. In shape they were like horrible toads, and moved in a succession
of springs, but in size they were of an incredible bulk, larger than the largest
elephant. We had never before seen them save at night, and indeed they are
nocturnal animals save when disturbed in their lairs, as these had been. We

now stood amazed at the sight, for their blotched and warty skins were of a
curious fish-like iridescence, and the sunlight struck them with an ever-
varying rainbow bloom as they moved.

We had little time to watch them, however, for in an instant they had
overtaken the fugitives and were making a dire slaughter among them.
Their method was to fall forward with their full weight upon each in turn,
leaving him crushed and mangled, to bound on after the others. The
wretched Indians screamed with terror, but were helpless, run as they
would, before the relentless purpose and horrible activity of these
monstrous creatures. One after another they went down, and there were not
half-a-dozen surviving by the time my companion and I could come to their
help. But our aid was of little avail and only involved us in the same peril.
At the range of a couple of hundred yards we emptied our magazines, firing
bullet after bullet into the beasts, but with no more effect than if we were
pelting them with pellets of paper. Their slow reptilian natures cared
nothing for wounds, and the springs of their lives, with no special brain
center but scattered throughout their spinal cords, could not be tapped by
any modern weapons. The most that we could do was to check their
progress by distracting their attention with the flash and roar of our guns,
and so to give both the natives and ourselves time to reach the steps which
led to safety. But where the conical explosive bullets of the twentieth
century were of no avail, the poisoned arrows of the natives, dipped in the
juice of strophanthus and steeped afterwards in decayed carrion, could
succeed. Such arrows were of little avail to the hunter who attacked the
beast, because their action in that torpid circulation was slow, and before its
powers failed it could certainly overtake and slay its assailant. But now, as
the two monsters hounded us to the very foot of the stairs, a drift of darts
came whistling from every chink in the cliff above them. In a minute they
were feathered with them, and yet with no sign of pain they clawed and
slobbered with impotent rage at the steps which would lead them to their
victims, mounting clumsily up for a few yards and then sliding down again
to the ground. But at last the poison worked. One of them gave a deep
rumbling groan and dropped his huge squat head on to the earth. The other
bounded round in an eccentric circle with shrill, wailing cries, and then
lying down writhed in agony for some minutes before it also stiffened and
lay still. With yells of triumph the Indians came flocking down from their

caves and danced a frenzied dance of victory round the dead bodies, in mad
joy that two more of the most dangerous of all their enemies had been slain.
That night they cut up and removed the bodies, not to eat—for the poison
was still active—but lest they should breed a pestilence. The great reptilian
hearts, however, each as large as a cushion, still lay there, beating slowly
and steadily, with a gentle rise and fall, in horrible independent life. It was
only upon the third day that the ganglia ran down and the dreadful things
were still.

Some day, when I have a better desk than a meat-tin and more helpful
tools than a worn stub of pencil and a last, tattered note-book, I will write
some fuller account of the Accala Indians—of our life amongst them, and of
the glimpses which we had of the strange conditions of wondrous Maple
White Land. Memory, at least, will never fail me, for so long as the breath
of life is in me, every hour and every action of that period will stand out as
hard and clear as do the first strange happenings of our childhood. No new
impressions could efface those which are so deeply cut. When the time
comes I will describe that wondrous moonlit night upon the great lake when
a young ichthyosaurus—a strange creature, half seal, half fish, to look at,
with bone-covered eyes on each side of his snout, and a third eye fixed
upon the top of his head—was entangled in an Indian net, and nearly upset
our canoe before we towed it ashore; the same night that a green water-
snake shot out from the rushes and carried off in its coils the steersman of
Challenger's canoe. I will tell, too, of the great nocturnal white thing—to
this day we do not know whether it was beast or reptile—which lived in a
vile swamp to the east of the lake, and flitted about with a faint
phosphorescent glimmer in the darkness. The Indians were so terrified at it
that they would not go near the place, and, though we twice made
expeditions and saw it each time, we could not make our way through the
deep marsh in which it lived. I can only say that it seemed to be larger than
a cow and had the strangest musky odor. I will tell also of the huge bird
which chased Challenger to the shelter of the rocks one day—a great
running bird, far taller than an ostrich, with a vulture-like neck and cruel
head which made it a walking death. As Challenger climbed to safety one
dart of that savage curving beak shore off the heel of his boot as if it had
been cut with a chisel. This time at least modern weapons prevailed and the
great creature, twelve feet from head to foot—phororachus its name,

according to our panting but exultant Professor—went down before Lord
Roxton's rifle in a flurry of waving feathers and kicking limbs, with two
remorseless yellow eyes glaring up from the midst of it. May I live to see
that flattened vicious skull in its own niche amid the trophies of the Albany.
Finally, I will assuredly give some account of the toxodon, the giant ten-
foot guinea pig, with projecting chisel teeth, which we killed as it drank in
the gray of the morning by the side of the lake.

All this I shall some day write at fuller length, and amidst these more
stirring days I would tenderly sketch in these lovely summer evenings,
when with the deep blue sky above us we lay in good comradeship among
the long grasses by the wood and marveled at the strange fowl that swept
over us and the quaint new creatures which crept from their burrows to
watch us, while above us the boughs of the bushes were heavy with
luscious fruit, and below us strange and lovely flowers peeped at us from
among the herbage; or those long moonlit nights when we lay out upon the
shimmering surface of the great lake and watched with wonder and awe the
huge circles rippling out from the sudden splash of some fantastic monster;
or the greenish gleam, far down in the deep water, of some strange creature
upon the confines of darkness. These are the scenes which my mind and my
pen will dwell upon in every detail at some future day.

But, you will ask, why these experiences and why this delay, when you
and your comrades should have been occupied day and night in the devising
of some means by which you could return to the outer world? My answer is,
that there was not one of us who was not working for this end, but that our
work had been in vain. One fact we had very speedily discovered: The
Indians would do nothing to help us. In every other way they were our
friends—one might almost say our devoted slaves—but when it was
suggested that they should help us to make and carry a plank which would
bridge the chasm, or when we wished to get from them thongs of leather or
liana to weave ropes which might help us, we were met by a good-humored,
but an invincible, refusal. They would smile, twinkle their eyes, shake their
heads, and there was the end of it. Even the old chief met us with the same
obstinate denial, and it was only Maretas, the youngster whom we had
saved, who looked wistfully at us and told us by his gestures that he was
grieved for our thwarted wishes. Ever since their crowning triumph with the

ape-men they looked upon us as supermen, who bore victory in the tubes of
strange weapons, and they believed that so long as we remained with them
good fortune would be theirs. A little red-skinned wife and a cave of our
own were freely offered to each of us if we would but forget our own
people and dwell forever upon the plateau. So far all had been kindly,
however far apart our desires might be; but we felt well assured that our
actual plans of a descent must be kept secret, for we had reason to fear that
at the last they might try to hold us by force.

In spite of the danger from dinosaurs (which is not great save at night,
for, as I may have said before, they are mostly nocturnal in their habits) I
have twice in the last three weeks been over to our old camp in order to see
our negro who still kept watch and ward below the cliff. My eyes strained
eagerly across the great plain in the hope of seeing afar off the help for
which we had prayed. But the long cactus-strewn levels still stretched away,
empty and bare, to the distant line of the cane-brake.

"They will soon come now, Massa Malone. Before another week pass
Indian come back and bring rope and fetch you down." Such was the cheery
cry of our excellent Zambo.

I had one strange experience as I came from this second visit which had
involved my being away for a night from my companions. I was returning
along the well-remembered route, and had reached a spot within a mile or
so of the marsh of the pterodactyls, when I saw an extraordinary object
approaching me. It was a man who walked inside a framework made of
bent canes so that he was enclosed on all sides in a bell-shaped cage. As I
drew nearer I was more amazed still to see that it was Lord John Roxton.
When he saw me he slipped from under his curious protection and came
towards me laughing, and yet, as I thought, with some confusion in his
manner.

"Well, young fellah," said he, "who would have thought of meetin' you
up here?"

"What in the world are you doing?" I asked.

"Visitin' my friends, the pterodactyls," said he.

"But why?"

"Interestin' beasts, don't you think? But unsociable! Nasty rude ways
with strangers, as you may remember. So I rigged this framework which
keeps them from bein' too pressin' in their attentions."

"But what do you want in the swamp?"

He looked at me with a very questioning eye, and I read hesitation in his
face.

"Don't you think other people besides Professors can want to know
things?" he said at last. "I'm studyin' the pretty dears. That's enough for
you."

"No offense," said I.

His good-humor returned and he laughed.

"No offense, young fellah. I'm goin' to get a young devil chick for
Challenger. That's one of my jobs. No, I don't want your company. I'm safe
in this cage, and you are not. So long, and I'll be back in camp by night-
fall."

He turned away and I left him wandering on through the wood with his
extraordinary cage around him.

If Lord John's behavior at this time was strange, that of Challenger was
more so. I may say that he seemed to possess an extraordinary fascination
for the Indian women, and that he always carried a large spreading palm
branch with which he beat them off as if they were flies, when their
attentions became too pressing. To see him walking like a comic opera
Sultan, with this badge of authority in his hand, his black beard bristling in
front of him, his toes pointing at each step, and a train of wide-eyed Indian
girls behind him, clad in their slender drapery of bark cloth, is one of the
most grotesque of all the pictures which I will carry back with me. As to
Summerlee, he was absorbed in the insect and bird life of the plateau, and
spent his whole time (save that considerable portion which was devoted to

abusing Challenger for not getting us out of our difficulties) in cleaning and
mounting his specimens.

Challenger had been in the habit of walking off by himself every
morning and returning from time to time with looks of portentous
solemnity, as one who bears the full weight of a great enterprise upon his
shoulders. One day, palm branch in hand, and his crowd of adoring
devotees behind him, he led us down to his hidden work-shop and took us
into the secret of his plans.

The place was a small clearing in the center of a palm grove. In this was
one of those boiling mud geysers which I have already described. Around
its edge were scattered a number of leathern thongs cut from iguanodon
hide, and a large collapsed membrane which proved to be the dried and
scraped stomach of one of the great fish lizards from the lake. This huge
sack had been sewn up at one end and only a small orifice left at the other.
Into this opening several bamboo canes had been inserted and the other
ends of these canes were in contact with conical clay funnels which
collected the gas bubbling up through the mud of the geyser. Soon the
flaccid organ began to slowly expand and show such a tendency to upward
movements that Challenger fastened the cords which held it to the trunks of
the surrounding trees. In half an hour a good-sized gas-bag had been
formed, and the jerking and straining upon the thongs showed that it was
capable of considerable lift. Challenger, like a glad father in the presence of
his first-born, stood smiling and stroking his beard, in silent, self-satisfied
content as he gazed at the creation of his brain. It was Summerlee who first
broke the silence.

"You don't mean us to go up in that thing, Challenger?" said he, in an
acid voice.

"I mean, my dear Summerlee, to give you such a demonstration of its
powers that after seeing it you will, I am sure, have no hesitation in trusting
yourself to it."

"You can put it right out of your head now, at once," said Summerlee
with decision, "nothing on earth would induce me to commit such a folly.
Lord John, I trust that you will not countenance such madness?"

"Dooced ingenious, I call it," said our peer. "I'd like to see how it
works."

"So you shall," said Challenger. "For some days I have exerted my
whole brain force upon the problem of how we shall descend from these
cliffs. We have satisfied ourselves that we cannot climb down and that there
is no tunnel. We are also unable to construct any kind of bridge which may
take us back to the pinnacle from which we came. How then shall I find a
means to convey us? Some little time ago I had remarked to our young
friend here that free hydrogen was evolved from the geyser. The idea of a
balloon naturally followed. I was, I will admit, somewhat baffled by the
difficulty of discovering an envelope to contain the gas, but the
contemplation of the immense entrails of these reptiles supplied me with a
solution to the problem. Behold the result!"

He put one hand in the front of his ragged jacket and pointed proudly
with the other.

By this time the gas-bag had swollen to a goodly rotundity and was
jerking strongly upon its lashings.

"Midsummer madness!" snorted Summerlee.

Lord John was delighted with the whole idea. "Clever old dear, ain't he?"
he whispered to me, and then louder to Challenger. "What about a car?"

"The car will be my next care. I have already planned how it is to be
made and attached. Meanwhile I will simply show you how capable my
apparatus is of supporting the weight of each of us."

"All of us, surely?"

"No, it is part of my plan that each in turn shall descend as in a
parachute, and the balloon be drawn back by means which I shall have no
difficulty in perfecting. If it will support the weight of one and let him
gently down, it will have done all that is required of it. I will now show you
its capacity in that direction."

He brought out a lump of basalt of a considerable size, constructed in the
middle so that a cord could be easily attached to it. This cord was the one
which we had brought with us on to the plateau after we had used it for
climbing the pinnacle. It was over a hundred feet long, and though it was
thin it was very strong. He had prepared a sort of collar of leather with
many straps depending from it. This collar was placed over the dome of the
balloon, and the hanging thongs were gathered together below, so that the
pressure of any weight would be diffused over a considerable surface. Then
the lump of basalt was fastened to the thongs, and the rope was allowed to
hang from the end of it, being passed three times round the Professor's arm.

"I will now," said Challenger, with a smile of pleased anticipation,
"demonstrate the carrying power of my balloon." As he said so he cut with a
knife the various lashings that held it.

Never was our expedition in more imminent danger of complete
annihilation. The inflated membrane shot up with frightful velocity into the
air. In an instant Challenger was pulled off his feet and dragged after it. I
had just time to throw my arms round his ascending waist when I was
myself whipped up into the air. Lord John had me with a rat-trap grip round
the legs, but I felt that he also was coming off the ground. For a moment I
had a vision of four adventurers floating like a string of sausages over the
land that they had explored. But, happily, there were limits to the strain
which the rope would stand, though none apparently to the lifting powers of
this infernal machine. There was a sharp crack, and we were in a heap upon
the ground with coils of rope all over us. When we were able to stagger to
our feet we saw far off in the deep blue sky one dark spot where the lump of
basalt was speeding upon its way.

"Splendid!" cried the undaunted Challenger, rubbing his injured arm. "A
most thorough and satisfactory demonstration! I could not have anticipated
such a success. Within a week, gentlemen, I promise that a second balloon
will be prepared, and that you can count upon taking in safety and comfort
the first stage of our homeward journey." So far I have written each of the
foregoing events as it occurred. Now I am rounding off my narrative from
the old camp, where Zambo has waited so long, with all our difficulties and
dangers left like a dream behind us upon the summit of those vast ruddy

crags which tower above our heads. We have descended in safety, though in
a most unexpected fashion, and all is well with us. In six weeks or two
months we shall be in London, and it is possible that this letter may not
reach you much earlier than we do ourselves. Already our hearts yearn and
our spirits fly towards the great mother city which holds so much that is
dear to us.

It was on the very evening of our perilous adventure with Challenger's
home-made balloon that the change came in our fortunes. I have said that
the one person from whom we had had some sign of sympathy in our
attempts to get away was the young chief whom we had rescued. He alone
had no desire to hold us against our will in a strange land. He had told us as
much by his expressive language of signs. That evening, after dusk, he
came down to our little camp, handed me (for some reason he had always
shown his attentions to me, perhaps because I was the one who was nearest
his age) a small roll of the bark of a tree, and then pointing solemnly up at
the row of caves above him, he had put his finger to his lips as a sign of
secrecy and had stolen back again to his people.

I took the slip of bark to the firelight and we examined it together. It was
about a foot square, and on the inner side there was a singular arrangement
of lines, which I here reproduce:

They were neatly done in charcoal upon the white surface, and looked to
me at first sight like some sort of rough musical score.

"Whatever it is, I can swear that it is of importance to us," said I. "I
could read that on his face as he gave it."

"Unless we have come upon a primitive practical joker," Summerlee
suggested, "which I should think would be one of the most elementary
developments of man."

"It is clearly some sort of script," said Challenger.

"Looks like a guinea puzzle competition," remarked Lord John, craning
his neck to have a look at it. Then suddenly he stretched out his hand and
seized the puzzle.

"By George!" he cried, "I believe I've got it. The boy guessed right the
very first time. See here! How many marks are on that paper? Eighteen.
Well, if you come to think of it there are eighteen cave openings on the hill-
side above us."

"He pointed up to the caves when he gave it to me," said I.

"Well, that settles it. This is a chart of the caves. What! Eighteen of them
all in a row, some short, some deep, some branching, same as we saw them.
It's a map, and here's a cross on it. What's the cross for? It is placed to mark
one that is much deeper than the others."

"One that goes through," I cried.

"I believe our young friend has read the riddle," said Challenger. "If the
cave does not go through I do not understand why this person, who has
every reason to mean us well, should have drawn our attention to it. But if it
does go through and comes out at the corresponding point on the other side,
we should not have more than a hundred feet to descend."

"A hundred feet!" grumbled Summerlee.

"Well, our rope is still more than a hundred feet long," I cried. "Surely
we could get down."

"How about the Indians in the cave?" Summerlee objected.

"There are no Indians in any of the caves above our heads," said I. "They
are all used as barns and store-houses. Why should we not go up now at
once and spy out the land?"

There is a dry bituminous wood upon the plateau—a species of
araucaria, according to our botanist—which is always used by the Indians
for torches. Each of us picked up a faggot of this, and we made our way up
weed-covered steps to the particular cave which was marked in the
drawing. It was, as I had said, empty, save for a great number of enormous
bats, which flapped round our heads as we advanced into it. As we had no
desire to draw the attention of the Indians to our proceedings, we stumbled

along in the dark until we had gone round several curves and penetrated a
considerable distance into the cavern. Then, at last, we lit our torches. It
was a beautiful dry tunnel with smooth gray walls covered with native
symbols, a curved roof which arched over our heads, and white glistening
sand beneath our feet. We hurried eagerly along it until, with a deep groan
of bitter disappointment, we were brought to a halt. A sheer wall of rock
had appeared before us, with no chink through which a mouse could have
slipped. There was no escape for us there.

We stood with bitter hearts staring at this unexpected obstacle. It was not
the result of any convulsion, as in the case of the ascending tunnel. The end
wall was exactly like the side ones. It was, and had always been, a cul-de-
sac.

"Never mind, my friends," said the indomitable Challenger. "You have
still my firm promise of a balloon."

Summerlee groaned.

"Can we be in the wrong cave?" I suggested.

"No use, young fellah," said Lord John, with his finger on the chart.
"Seventeen from the right and second from the left. This is the cave sure
enough."

I looked at the mark to which his finger pointed, and I gave a sudden cry
of joy.

"I believe I have it! Follow me! Follow me!"

I hurried back along the way we had come, my torch in my hand.
"Here," said I, pointing to some matches upon the ground, "is where we lit
up."

"Exactly."

"Well, it is marked as a forked cave, and in the darkness we passed the
fork before the torches were lit. On the right side as we go out we should

find the longer arm."

It was as I had said. We had not gone thirty yards before a great black
opening loomed in the wall. We turned into it to find that we were in a
much larger passage than before. Along it we hurried in breathless
impatience for many hundreds of yards. Then, suddenly, in the black
darkness of the arch in front of us we saw a gleam of dark red light. We
stared in amazement. A sheet of steady flame seemed to cross the passage
and to bar our way. We hastened towards it. No sound, no heat, no
movement came from it, but still the great luminous curtain glowed before
us, silvering all the cave and turning the sand to powdered jewels, until as
we drew closer it discovered a circular edge.

"The moon, by George!" cried Lord John. "We are through, boys! We are
through!"

It was indeed the full moon which shone straight down the aperture
which opened upon the cliffs. It was a small rift, not larger than a window,
but it was enough for all our purposes. As we craned our necks through it
we could see that the descent was not a very difficult one, and that the level
ground was no very great way below us. It was no wonder that from below
we had not observed the place, as the cliffs curved overhead and an ascent
at the spot would have seemed so impossible as to discourage close
inspection. We satisfied ourselves that with the help of our rope we could
find our way down, and then returned, rejoicing, to our camp to make our
preparations for the next evening.

What we did we had to do quickly and secretly, since even at this last
hour the Indians might hold us back. Our stores we would leave behind us,
save only our guns and cartridges. But Challenger had some unwieldy stuff
which he ardently desired to take with him, and one particular package, of
which I may not speak, which gave us more labor than any. Slowly the day
passed, but when the darkness fell we were ready for our departure. With
much labor we got our things up the steps, and then, looking back, took one
last long survey of that strange land, soon I fear to be vulgarized, the prey
of hunter and prospector, but to each of us a dreamland of glamour and
romance, a land where we had dared much, suffered much, and learned
much—OUR land, as we shall ever fondly call it. Along upon our left the

neighboring caves each threw out its ruddy cheery firelight into the gloom.
From the slope below us rose the voices of the Indians as they laughed and
sang. Beyond was the long sweep of the woods, and in the center,
shimmering vaguely through the gloom, was the great lake, the mother of
strange monsters. Even as we looked a high whickering cry, the call of
some weird animal, rang clear out of the darkness. It was the very voice of
Maple White Land bidding us good-bye. We turned and plunged into the
cave which led to home.

Two hours later, we, our packages, and all we owned, were at the foot of
the cliff. Save for Challenger's luggage we had never a difficulty. Leaving it
all where we descended, we started at once for Zambo's camp. In the early
morning we approached it, but only to find, to our amazement, not one fire
but a dozen upon the plain. The rescue party had arrived. There were twenty
Indians from the river, with stakes, ropes, and all that could be useful for
bridging the chasm. At least we shall have no difficulty now in carrying our
packages, when to-morrow we begin to make our way back to the Amazon.

And so, in humble and thankful mood, I close this account. Our eyes
have seen great wonders and our souls are chastened by what we have
endured. Each is in his own way a better and deeper man. It may be that
when we reach Para we shall stop to refit. If we do, this letter will be a mail
ahead. If not, it will reach London on the very day that I do. In either case,
my dear Mr. McArdle, I hope very soon to shake you by the hand.

CHAPTER XVI

"A Procession! A Procession!"

I should wish to place upon record here our gratitude to all our friends
upon the Amazon for the very great kindness and hospitality which was
shown to us upon our return journey. Very particularly would I thank
Senhor Penalosa and other officials of the Brazilian Government for the

special arrangements by which we were helped upon our way, and Senhor
Pereira of Para, to whose forethought we owe the complete outfit for a
decent appearance in the civilized world which we found ready for us at
that town. It seemed a poor return for all the courtesy which we
encountered that we should deceive our hosts and benefactors, but under the
circumstances we had really no alternative, and I hereby tell them that they
will only waste their time and their money if they attempt to follow upon
our traces. Even the names have been altered in our accounts, and I am very
sure that no one, from the most careful study of them, could come within a
thousand miles of our unknown land.

The excitement which had been caused through those parts of South
America which we had to traverse was imagined by us to be purely local,
and I can assure our friends in England that we had no notion of the uproar
which the mere rumor of our experiences had caused through Europe. It
was not until the Ivernia was within five hundred miles of Southampton that
the wireless messages from paper after paper and agency after agency,
offering huge prices for a short return message as to our actual results,
showed us how strained was the attention not only of the scientific world
but of the general public. It was agreed among us, however, that no definite
statement should be given to the Press until we had met the members of the
Zoological Institute, since as delegates it was our clear duty to give our first
report to the body from which we had received our commission of
investigation. Thus, although we found Southampton full of Pressmen, we
absolutely refused to give any information, which had the natural effect of
focussing public attention upon the meeting which was advertised for the
evening of November 7th. For this gathering, the Zoological Hall which had
been the scene of the inception of our task was found to be far too small,
and it was only in the Queen's Hall in Regent Street that accommodation
could be found. It is now common knowledge the promoters might have
ventured upon the Albert Hall and still found their space too scanty.

It was for the second evening after our arrival that the great meeting had
been fixed. For the first, we had each, no doubt, our own pressing personal
affairs to absorb us. Of mine I cannot yet speak. It may be that as it stands
further from me I may think of it, and even speak of it, with less emotion. I
have shown the reader in the beginning of this narrative where lay the

springs of my action. It is but right, perhaps, that I should carry on the tale
and show also the results. And yet the day may come when I would not
have it otherwise. At least I have been driven forth to take part in a
wondrous adventure, and I cannot but be thankful to the force that drove
me.

And now I turn to the last supreme eventful moment of our adventure.
As I was racking my brain as to how I should best describe it, my eyes fell
upon the issue of my own Journal for the morning of the 8th of November
with the full and excellent account of my friend and fellow-reporter
Macdona. What can I do better than transcribe his narrative—head-lines
and all? I admit that the paper was exuberant in the matter, out of
compliment to its own enterprise in sending a correspondent, but the other
great dailies were hardly less full in their account. Thus, then, friend Mac in
his report:

THE NEW WORLD
GREAT MEETING AT THE QUEEN'S HALL
SCENES OF UPROAR
EXTRAORDINARY INCIDENT
WHAT WAS IT?
NOCTURNAL RIOT IN REGENT STREET
(Special)

"The much-discussed meeting of the Zoological Institute, convened to
hear the report of the Committee of Investigation sent out last year to South
America to test the assertions made by Professor Challenger as to the
continued existence of prehistoric life upon that Continent, was held last
night in the greater Queen's Hall, and it is safe to say that it is likely to be a
red letter date in the history of Science, for the proceedings were of so
remarkable and sensational a character that no one present is ever likely to
forget them." (Oh, brother scribe Macdona, what a monstrous opening

sentence!) "The tickets were theoretically confined to members and their
friends, but the latter is an elastic term, and long before eight o'clock, the
hour fixed for the commencement of the proceedings, all parts of the Great
Hall were tightly packed. The general public, however, which most
unreasonably entertained a grievance at having been excluded, stormed the
doors at a quarter to eight, after a prolonged melee in which several people
were injured, including Inspector Scoble of H. Division, whose leg was
unfortunately broken. After this unwarrantable invasion, which not only
filled every passage, but even intruded upon the space set apart for the
Press, it is estimated that nearly five thousand people awaited the arrival of
the travelers. When they eventually appeared, they took their places in the
front of a platform which already contained all the leading scientific men,
not only of this country, but of France and of Germany. Sweden was also
represented, in the person of Professor Sergius, the famous Zoologist of the
University of Upsala. The entrance of the four heroes of the occasion was
the signal for a remarkable demonstration of welcome, the whole audience
rising and cheering for some minutes. An acute observer might, however,
have detected some signs of dissent amid the applause, and gathered that
the proceedings were likely to become more lively than harmonious. It may
safely be prophesied, however, that no one could have foreseen the
extraordinary turn which they were actually to take.

"Of the appearance of the four wanderers little need be said, since their
photographs have for some time been appearing in all the papers. They bear
few traces of the hardships which they are said to have undergone.
Professor Challenger's beard may be more shaggy, Professor Summerlee's
features more ascetic, Lord John Roxton's figure more gaunt, and all three
may be burned to a darker tint than when they left our shores, but each
appeared to be in most excellent health. As to our own representative, the
well-known athlete and international Rugby football player, E. D. Malone,
he looks trained to a hair, and as he surveyed the crowd a smile of good-
humored contentment pervaded his honest but homely face." (All right,
Mac, wait till I get you alone!)

"When quiet had been restored and the audience resumed their seats after
the ovation which they had given to the travelers, the chairman, the Duke of
Durham, addressed the meeting. 'He would not,' he said, 'stand for more

than a moment between that vast assembly and the treat which lay before
them. It was not for him to anticipate what Professor Summerlee, who was
the spokesman of the committee, had to say to them, but it was common
rumor that their expedition had been crowned by extraordinary success.'
(Applause.) 'Apparently the age of romance was not dead, and there was
common ground upon which the wildest imaginings of the novelist could
meet the actual scientific investigations of the searcher for truth. He would
only add, before he sat down, that he rejoiced—and all of them would
rejoice—that these gentlemen had returned safe and sound from their
difficult and dangerous task, for it cannot be denied that any disaster to such
an expedition would have inflicted a well-nigh irreparable loss to the cause
of Zoological science.' (Great applause, in which Professor Challenger was
observed to join.)

"Professor Summerlee's rising was the signal for another extraordinary
outbreak of enthusiasm, which broke out again at intervals throughout his
address. That address will not be given in extenso in these columns, for the
reason that a full account of the whole adventures of the expedition is being
published as a supplement from the pen of our own special correspondent.
Some general indications will therefore suffice. Having described the
genesis of their journey, and paid a handsome tribute to his friend Professor
Challenger, coupled with an apology for the incredulity with which his
assertions, now fully vindicated, had been received, he gave the actual
course of their journey, carefully withholding such information as would aid
the public in any attempt to locate this remarkable plateau. Having
described, in general terms, their course from the main river up to the time
that they actually reached the base of the cliffs, he enthralled his hearers by
his account of the difficulties encountered by the expedition in their
repeated attempts to mount them, and finally described how they succeeded
in their desperate endeavors, which cost the lives of their two devoted half-
breed servants." (This amazing reading of the affair was the result of
Summerlee's endeavors to avoid raising any questionable matter at the
meeting.)

"Having conducted his audience in fancy to the summit, and marooned
them there by reason of the fall of their bridge, the Professor proceeded to
describe both the horrors and the attractions of that remarkable land. Of

personal adventures he said little, but laid stress upon the rich harvest
reaped by Science in the observations of the wonderful beast, bird, insect,
and plant life of the plateau. Peculiarly rich in the coleoptera and in the
lepidoptera, forty-six new species of the one and ninety-four of the other
had been secured in the course of a few weeks. It was, however, in the
larger animals, and especially in the larger animals supposed to have been
long extinct, that the interest of the public was naturally centered. Of these
he was able to give a goodly list, but had little doubt that it would be largely
extended when the place had been more thoroughly investigated. He and his
companions had seen at least a dozen creatures, most of them at a distance,
which corresponded with nothing at present known to Science. These would
in time be duly classified and examined. He instanced a snake, the cast skin
of which, deep purple in color, was fifty-one feet in length, and mentioned a
white creature, supposed to be mammalian, which gave forth well-marked
phosphorescence in the darkness; also a large black moth, the bite of which
was supposed by the Indians to be highly poisonous. Setting aside these
entirely new forms of life, the plateau was very rich in known prehistoric
forms, dating back in some cases to early Jurassic times. Among these he
mentioned the gigantic and grotesque stegosaurus, seen once by Mr.
Malone at a drinking-place by the lake, and drawn in the sketch-book of
that adventurous American who had first penetrated this unknown world.
He described also the iguanodon and the pterodactyl—two of the first of the
wonders which they had encountered. He then thrilled the assembly by
some account of the terrible carnivorous dinosaurs, which had on more than
one occasion pursued members of the party, and which were the most
formidable of all the creatures which they had encountered. Thence he
passed to the huge and ferocious bird, the phororachus, and to the great elk
which still roams upon this upland. It was not, however, until he sketched
the mysteries of the central lake that the full interest and enthusiasm of the
audience were aroused. One had to pinch oneself to be sure that one was
awake as one heard this sane and practical Professor in cold measured tones
describing the monstrous three-eyed fish-lizards and the huge water-snakes
which inhabit this enchanted sheet of water. Next he touched upon the
Indians, and upon the extraordinary colony of anthropoid apes, which might
be looked upon as an advance upon the pithecanthropus of Java, and as
coming therefore nearer than any known form to that hypothetical creation,
the missing link. Finally he described, amongst some merriment, the

ingenious but highly dangerous aeronautic invention of Professor
Challenger, and wound up a most memorable address by an account of the
methods by which the committee did at last find their way back to
civilization.

"It had been hoped that the proceedings would end there, and that a vote
of thanks and congratulation, moved by Professor Sergius, of Upsala
University, would be duly seconded and carried; but it was soon evident
that the course of events was not destined to flow so smoothly. Symptoms
of opposition had been evident from time to time during the evening, and
now Dr. James Illingworth, of Edinburgh, rose in the center of the hall. Dr.
Illingworth asked whether an amendment should not be taken before a
resolution.

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Yes, sir, if there must be an amendment.'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, there must be an amendment.'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Then let us take it at once.'

"PROFESSOR SUMMERLEE (springing to his feet): 'Might I explain,
your Grace, that this man is my personal enemy ever since our controversy
in the Quarterly Journal of Science as to the true nature of Bathybius?'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'I fear I cannot go into personal matters. Proceed.'

"Dr. Illingworth was imperfectly heard in part of his remarks on account
of the strenuous opposition of the friends of the explorers. Some attempts
were also made to pull him down. Being a man of enormous physique,
however, and possessed of a very powerful voice, he dominated the tumult
and succeeded in finishing his speech. It was clear, from the moment of his
rising, that he had a number of friends and sympathizers in the hall, though
they formed a minority in the audience. The attitude of the greater part of
the public might be described as one of attentive neutrality.

"Dr. Illingworth began his remarks by expressing his high appreciation
of the scientific work both of Professor Challenger and of Professor
Summerlee. He much regretted that any personal bias should have been

read into his remarks, which were entirely dictated by his desire for
scientific truth. His position, in fact, was substantially the same as that
taken up by Professor Summerlee at the last meeting. At that last meeting
Professor Challenger had made certain assertions which had been queried
by his colleague. Now this colleague came forward himself with the same
assertions and expected them to remain unquestioned. Was this reasonable?
('Yes,' 'No,' and prolonged interruption, during which Professor Challenger
was heard from the Press box to ask leave from the chairman to put Dr.
Illingworth into the street.) A year ago one man said certain things. Now
four men said other and more startling ones. Was this to constitute a final
proof where the matters in question were of the most revolutionary and
incredible character? There had been recent examples of travelers arriving
from the unknown with certain tales which had been too readily accepted.
Was the London Zoological Institute to place itself in this position? He
admitted that the members of the committee were men of character. But
human nature was very complex. Even Professors might be misled by the
desire for notoriety. Like moths, we all love best to flutter in the light.
Heavy-game shots liked to be in a position to cap the tales of their rivals,
and journalists were not averse from sensational coups, even when
imagination had to aid fact in the process. Each member of the committee
had his own motive for making the most of his results. ('Shame! shame!')
He had no desire to be offensive. ('You are!' and interruption.) The
corroboration of these wondrous tales was really of the most slender
description. What did it amount to? Some photographs. {Was it possible
that in this age of ingenious manipulation photographs could be accepted as
evidence?} What more? We have a story of a flight and a descent by ropes
which precluded the production of larger specimens. It was ingenious, but
not convincing. It was understood that Lord John Roxton claimed to have
the skull of a phororachus. He could only say that he would like to see that
skull.

"LORD JOHN ROXTON: 'Is this fellow calling me a liar?' (Uproar.)

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Order! order! Dr. Illingworth, I must direct you to
bring your remarks to a conclusion and to move your amendment.'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, I have more to say, but I bow to
your ruling. I move, then, that, while Professor Summerlee be thanked for
his interesting address, the whole matter shall be regarded as 'non-proven,'
and shall be referred back to a larger, and possibly more reliable Committee
of Investigation.'

"It is difficult to describe the confusion caused by this amendment. A
large section of the audience expressed their indignation at such a slur upon
the travelers by noisy shouts of dissent and cries of, 'Don't put it!'
'Withdraw!' 'Turn him out!' On the other hand, the malcontents—and it
cannot be denied that they were fairly numerous—cheered for the
amendment, with cries of 'Order!' 'Chair!' and 'Fair play!' A scuffle broke
out in the back benches, and blows were freely exchanged among the
medical students who crowded that part of the hall. It was only the
moderating influence of the presence of large numbers of ladies which
prevented an absolute riot. Suddenly, however, there was a pause, a hush,
and then complete silence. Professor Challenger was on his feet. His
appearance and manner are peculiarly arresting, and as he raised his hand
for order the whole audience settled down expectantly to give him a
hearing.

"'It will be within the recollection of many present,' said Professor
Challenger, 'that similar foolish and unmannerly scenes marked the last
meeting at which I have been able to address them. On that occasion
Professor Summerlee was the chief offender, and though he is now
chastened and contrite, the matter could not be entirely forgotten. I have
heard to-night similar, but even more offensive, sentiments from the person
who has just sat down, and though it is a conscious effort of self-effacement
to come down to that person's mental level, I will endeavor to do so, in
order to allay any reasonable doubt which could possibly exist in the minds
of anyone.' (Laughter and interruption.) 'I need not remind this audience
that, though Professor Summerlee, as the head of the Committee of
Investigation, has been put up to speak to-night, still it is I who am the real
prime mover in this business, and that it is mainly to me that any successful
result must be ascribed. I have safely conducted these three gentlemen to
the spot mentioned, and I have, as you have heard, convinced them of the
accuracy of my previous account. We had hoped that we should find upon

our return that no one was so dense as to dispute our joint conclusions.
Warned, however, by my previous experience, I have not come without
such proofs as may convince a reasonable man. As explained by Professor
Summerlee, our cameras have been tampered with by the ape-men when
they ransacked our camp, and most of our negatives ruined.' (Jeers,
laughter, and 'Tell us another!' from the back.) 'I have mentioned the ape-
men, and I cannot forbear from saying that some of the sounds which now
meet my ears bring back most vividly to my recollection my experiences
with those interesting creatures.' (Laughter.) 'In spite of the destruction of so
many invaluable negatives, there still remains in our collection a certain
number of corroborative photographs showing the conditions of life upon
the plateau. Did they accuse them of having forged these photographs?' (A
voice, 'Yes,' and considerable interruption which ended in several men
being put out of the hall.) 'The negatives were open to the inspection of
experts. But what other evidence had they? Under the conditions of their
escape it was naturally impossible to bring a large amount of baggage, but
they had rescued Professor Summerlee's collections of butterflies and
beetles, containing many new species. Was this not evidence?' (Several
voices, 'No.') 'Who said no?'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH (rising): 'Our point is that such a collection might
have been made in other places than a prehistoric plateau.' (Applause.)

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'No doubt, sir, we have to bow to your
scientific authority, although I must admit that the name is unfamiliar.
Passing, then, both the photographs and the entomological collection, I
come to the varied and accurate information which we bring with us upon
points which have never before been elucidated. For example, upon the
domestic habits of the pterodactyl—'(A voice: 'Bosh,' and uproar)—'I say,
that upon the domestic habits of the pterodactyl we can throw a flood of
light. I can exhibit to you from my portfolio a picture of that creature taken
from life which would convince you——'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'No picture could convince us of anything.'

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'You would require to see the thing
itself?'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Undoubtedly.'

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'And you would accept that?'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH (laughing): 'Beyond a doubt.'

"It was at this point that the sensation of the evening arose—a sensation
so dramatic that it can never have been paralleled in the history of scientific
gatherings. Professor Challenger raised his hand in the air as a signal, and at
once our colleague, Mr. E. D. Malone, was observed to rise and to make his
way to the back of the platform. An instant later he re-appeared in company
of a gigantic negro, the two of them bearing between them a large square
packing-case. It was evidently of great weight, and was slowly carried
forward and placed in front of the Professor's chair. All sound had hushed in
the audience and everyone was absorbed in the spectacle before them.
Professor Challenger drew off the top of the case, which formed a sliding
lid. Peering down into the box he snapped his fingers several times and was
heard from the Press seat to say, 'Come, then, pretty, pretty!' in a coaxing
voice. An instant later, with a scratching, rattling sound, a most horrible and
loathsome creature appeared from below and perched itself upon the side of
the case. Even the unexpected fall of the Duke of Durham into the
orchestra, which occurred at this moment, could not distract the petrified
attention of the vast audience. The face of the creature was like the wildest
gargoyle that the imagination of a mad medieval builder could have
conceived. It was malicious, horrible, with two small red eyes as bright as
points of burning coal. Its long, savage mouth, which was held half-open,
was full of a double row of shark-like teeth. Its shoulders were humped, and
round them were draped what appeared to be a faded gray shawl. It was the
devil of our childhood in person. There was a turmoil in the audience—
someone screamed, two ladies in the front row fell senseless from their
chairs, and there was a general movement upon the platform to follow their
chairman into the orchestra. For a moment there was danger of a general
panic. Professor Challenger threw up his hands to still the commotion, but
the movement alarmed the creature beside him. Its strange shawl suddenly
unfurled, spread, and fluttered as a pair of leathery wings. Its owner
grabbed at its legs, but too late to hold it. It had sprung from the perch and
was circling slowly round the Queen's Hall with a dry, leathery flapping of

its ten-foot wings, while a putrid and insidious odor pervaded the room. The
cries of the people in the galleries, who were alarmed at the near approach
of those glowing eyes and that murderous beak, excited the creature to a
frenzy. Faster and faster it flew, beating against walls and chandeliers in a
blind frenzy of alarm. 'The window! For heaven's sake shut that window!'
roared the Professor from the platform, dancing and wringing his hands in
an agony of apprehension. Alas, his warning was too late! In a moment the
creature, beating and bumping along the wall like a huge moth within a gas-
shade, came upon the opening, squeezed its hideous bulk through it, and
was gone. Professor Challenger fell back into his chair with his face buried
in his hands, while the audience gave one long, deep sigh of relief as they
realized that the incident was over.

"Then—oh! how shall one describe what took place then—when the full
exuberance of the majority and the full reaction of the minority united to
make one great wave of enthusiasm, which rolled from the back of the hall,
gathering volume as it came, swept over the orchestra, submerged the
platform, and carried the four heroes away upon its crest?" (Good for you,
Mac!) "If the audience had done less than justice, surely it made ample
amends. Every one was on his feet. Every one was moving, shouting,
gesticulating. A dense crowd of cheering men were round the four travelers.
'Up with them! up with them!' cried a hundred voices. In a moment four
figures shot up above the crowd. In vain they strove to break loose. They
were held in their lofty places of honor. It would have been hard to let them
down if it had been wished, so dense was the crowd around them. 'Regent
Street! Regent Street!' sounded the voices. There was a swirl in the packed
multitude, and a slow current, bearing the four upon their shoulders, made
for the door. Out in the street the scene was extraordinary. An assemblage of
not less than a hundred thousand people was waiting. The close-packed
throng extended from the other side of the Langham Hotel to Oxford
Circus. A roar of acclamation greeted the four adventurers as they appeared,
high above the heads of the people, under the vivid electric lamps outside
the hall. 'A procession! A procession!' was the cry. In a dense phalanx,
blocking the streets from side to side, the crowd set forth, taking the route
of Regent Street, Pall Mall, St. James's Street, and Piccadilly. The whole
central traffic of London was held up, and many collisions were reported
between the demonstrators upon the one side and the police and taxi-

cabmen upon the other. Finally, it was not until after midnight that the four
travelers were released at the entrance to Lord John Roxton's chambers in
the Albany, and that the exuberant crowd, having sung 'They are Jolly Good
Fellows' in chorus, concluded their program with 'God Save the King.' So
ended one of the most remarkable evenings that London has seen for a
considerable time."

So far my friend Macdona; and it may be taken as a fairly accurate, if
florid, account of the proceedings. As to the main incident, it was a
bewildering surprise to the audience, but not, I need hardly say, to us. The
reader will remember how I met Lord John Roxton upon the very occasion
when, in his protective crinoline, he had gone to bring the "Devil's chick" as
he called it, for Professor Challenger. I have hinted also at the trouble which
the Professor's baggage gave us when we left the plateau, and had I
described our voyage I might have said a good deal of the worry we had to
coax with putrid fish the appetite of our filthy companion. If I have not said
much about it before, it was, of course, that the Professor's earnest desire
was that no possible rumor of the unanswerable argument which we carried
should be allowed to leak out until the moment came when his enemies
were to be confuted.

One word as to the fate of the London pterodactyl. Nothing can be said
to be certain upon this point. There is the evidence of two frightened
women that it perched upon the roof of the Queen's Hall and remained there
like a diabolical statue for some hours. The next day it came out in the
evening papers that Private Miles, of the Coldstream Guards, on duty
outside Marlborough House, had deserted his post without leave, and was
therefore courtmartialed. Private Miles' account, that he dropped his rifle
and took to his heels down the Mall because on looking up he had suddenly
seen the devil between him and the moon, was not accepted by the Court,
and yet it may have a direct bearing upon the point at issue. The only other
evidence which I can adduce is from the log of the SS. Friesland, a Dutch-
American liner, which asserts that at nine next morning, Start Point being at
the time ten miles upon their starboard quarter, they were passed by
something between a flying goat and a monstrous bat, which was heading at
a prodigious pace south and west. If its homing instinct led it upon the right

line, there can be no doubt that somewhere out in the wastes of the Atlantic
the last European pterodactyl found its end.

And Gladys—oh, my Gladys!—Gladys of the mystic lake, now to be re-
named the Central, for never shall she have immortality through me. Did I
not always see some hard fiber in her nature? Did I not, even at the time
when I was proud to obey her behest, feel that it was surely a poor love
which could drive a lover to his death or the danger of it? Did I not, in my
truest thoughts, always recurring and always dismissed, see past the beauty
of the face, and, peering into the soul, discern the twin shadows of
selfishness and of fickleness glooming at the back of it? Did she love the
heroic and the spectacular for its own noble sake, or was it for the glory
which might, without effort or sacrifice, be reflected upon herself? Or are
these thoughts the vain wisdom which comes after the event? It was the
shock of my life. For a moment it had turned me to a cynic. But already, as
I write, a week has passed, and we have had our momentous interview with
Lord John Roxton and—well, perhaps things might be worse.

Let me tell it in a few words. No letter or telegram had come to me at
Southampton, and I reached the little villa at Streatham about ten o'clock
that night in a fever of alarm. Was she dead or alive? Where were all my
nightly dreams of the open arms, the smiling face, the words of praise for
her man who had risked his life to humor her whim? Already I was down
from the high peaks and standing flat-footed upon earth. Yet some good
reasons given might still lift me to the clouds once more. I rushed down the
garden path, hammered at the door, heard the voice of Gladys within,
pushed past the staring maid, and strode into the sitting-room. She was
seated in a low settee under the shaded standard lamp by the piano. In three
steps I was across the room and had both her hands in mine.

"Gladys!" I cried, "Gladys!"

She looked up with amazement in her face. She was altered in some
subtle way. The expression of her eyes, the hard upward stare, the set of the
lips, was new to me. She drew back her hands.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Gladys!" I cried. "What is the matter? You are my Gladys, are you not
—little Gladys Hungerton?"

"No," said she, "I am Gladys Potts. Let me introduce you to my
husband."

How absurd life is! I found myself mechanically bowing and shaking
hands with a little ginger-haired man who was coiled up in the deep arm-
chair which had once been sacred to my own use. We bobbed and grinned
in front of each other.

"Father lets us stay here. We are getting our house ready," said Gladys.

"Oh, yes," said I.

"You didn't get my letter at Para, then?"

"No, I got no letter."

"Oh, what a pity! It would have made all clear."

"It is quite clear," said I.

"I've told William all about you," said she. "We have no secrets. I am so
sorry about it. But it couldn't have been so very deep, could it, if you could
go off to the other end of the world and leave me here alone. You're not
crabby, are you?"

"No, no, not at all. I think I'll go."

"Have some refreshment," said the little man, and he added, in a
confidential way, "It's always like this, ain't it? And must be unless you had
polygamy, only the other way round; you understand." He laughed like an
idiot, while I made for the door.

I was through it, when a sudden fantastic impulse came upon me, and I
went back to my successful rival, who looked nervously at the electric push.

"Will you answer a question?" I asked.

"Well, within reason," said he.

"How did you do it? Have you searched for hidden treasure, or
discovered a pole, or done time on a pirate, or flown the Channel, or what?
Where is the glamour of romance? How did you get it?"

He stared at me with a hopeless expression upon his vacuous, good-
natured, scrubby little face.

"Don't you think all this is a little too personal?" he said.

"Well, just one question," I cried. "What are you? What is your
profession?"

"I am a solicitor's clerk," said he. "Second man at Johnson and
Merivale's, 41 Chancery Lane."

"Good-night!" said I, and vanished, like all disconsolate and broken-
hearted heroes, into the darkness, with grief and rage and laughter all
simmering within me like a boiling pot.

One more little scene, and I have done. Last night we all supped at Lord
John Roxton's rooms, and sitting together afterwards we smoked in good
comradeship and talked our adventures over. It was strange under these
altered surroundings to see the old, well-known faces and figures. There
was Challenger, with his smile of condescension, his drooping eyelids, his
intolerant eyes, his aggressive beard, his huge chest, swelling and puffing as
he laid down the law to Summerlee. And Summerlee, too, there he was with
his short briar between his thin moustache and his gray goat's-beard, his
worn face protruded in eager debate as he queried all Challenger's
propositions. Finally, there was our host, with his rugged, eagle face, and
his cold, blue, glacier eyes with always a shimmer of devilment and of
humor down in the depths of them. Such is the last picture of them that I
have carried away.

It was after supper, in his own sanctum—the room of the pink radiance
and the innumerable trophies—that Lord John Roxton had something to say

to us. From a cupboard he had brought an old cigar-box, and this he laid
before him on the table.

"There's one thing," said he, "that maybe I should have spoken about
before this, but I wanted to know a little more clearly where I was. No use
to raise hopes and let them down again. But it's facts, not hopes, with us
now. You may remember that day we found the pterodactyl rookery in the
swamp—what? Well, somethin' in the lie of the land took my notice.
Perhaps it has escaped you, so I will tell you. It was a volcanic vent full of
blue clay." The Professors nodded.

"Well, now, in the whole world I've only had to do with one place that
was a volcanic vent of blue clay. That was the great De Beers Diamond
Mine of Kimberley—what? So you see I got diamonds into my head. I
rigged up a contraption to hold off those stinking beasts, and I spent a
happy day there with a spud. This is what I got."

He opened his cigar-box, and tilting it over he poured about twenty or
thirty rough stones, varying from the size of beans to that of chestnuts, on
the table.

"Perhaps you think I should have told you then. Well, so I should, only I
know there are a lot of traps for the unwary, and that stones may be of any
size and yet of little value where color and consistency are clean off.
Therefore, I brought them back, and on the first day at home I took one
round to Spink's, and asked him to have it roughly cut and valued."

He took a pill-box from his pocket, and spilled out of it a beautiful
glittering diamond, one of the finest stones that I have ever seen.

"There's the result," said he. "He prices the lot at a minimum of two
hundred thousand pounds. Of course it is fair shares between us. I won't
hear of anythin' else. Well, Challenger, what will you do with your fifty
thousand?"

"If you really persist in your generous view," said the Professor, "I
should found a private museum, which has long been one of my dreams."

"And you, Summerlee?"

"I would retire from teaching, and so find time for my final classification
of the chalk fossils."

"I'll use my own," said Lord John Roxton, "in fitting a well-formed
expedition and having another look at the dear old plateau. As to you,
young fellah, you, of course, will spend yours in gettin' married."

"Not just yet," said I, with a rueful smile. "I think, if you will have me,
that I would rather go with you."

Lord Roxton said nothing, but a brown hand was stretched out to me
across the table.

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