"It Was Terrible 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.

I have said, or perhaps I haven't, that I glowed with pride when my three companions thanked me. My memory plays sad tricks on me these days. They thanked me for saving the situation, or at least helping a great deal. As the youngest in the group, I had been overshadowed from the start. I was younger not just in years, but in experience, character, knowledge, and everything else that makes a man. And now I was coming into my own. The thought warmed me. Alas, pride comes before a fall! That little glow of self-satisfaction and extra confidence would lead me that very night to the most dreadful experience of my life. It ended with a shock that still makes me sick at heart 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.

This is how it happened. I was too excited by the adventure with the tree to sleep. Summerlee was on guard, sitting hunched over our small fire. He was a strange, angular figure, with his rifle across his knees. His pointed, goat-like beard wagged each time his head nodded with weariness. Lord John lay silently, wrapped in the South American poncho he wore. Challenger snored with a rolling rattle that echoed through the woods. The full moon shone brightly, and the air was crisp and cold. What a night for a walk! Then suddenly I thought, "Why not?" Suppose I slipped away quietly and made my way down to the central lake. Suppose I returned by breakfast with some record of the place. Wouldn't the others think me an even more worthy companion? Then, if Summerlee got his way and we found a means of escape, we would return to London. We would have firsthand knowledge of the plateau's central mystery, which I alone, of all men, would have explored. I thought of Gladys and her words, "There are heroisms all round us." I seemed to hear her voice as she said them. I thought of McArdle, too. What a three-column article for the paper! What a foundation for a career! A position as a correspondent in the next great war might be within my reach. I grabbed a gun. My pockets were full of cartridges. Then I parted the thorn bushes at the gate of our zareba and quickly slipped out. I glanced back one last time. Summerlee, that most useless of sentries, was still unaware of me. He sat nodding in front of the smoldering fire, like a strange mechanical toy.

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.

I had not gone a hundred yards before I deeply regretted my rashness. I may have said somewhere in this account that I am too imaginative to be truly brave. But I have an overpowering fear of appearing afraid. That fear was what drove me onward now. I simply could not sneak back without having done anything. Even if my companions had not missed me and never learned of my weakness, I would still feel unbearable shame. Yet I shuddered at the situation I was in. At that moment, I would have given everything I possessed to be 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!

The forest was terrifying. The trees grew so thickly and their leaves spread so widely that I could see almost no moonlight. Here and there, the high branches formed a tangled pattern against the starry sky. As my eyes grew used to the darkness, I began to see different degrees of darkness among the trees. Some trees were dimly visible. Between and among them were patches of coal-black shadow, like the mouths of caves. I shrank from them in horror as I passed. I thought of the tortured iguanodon's despairing yell, the dreadful cry that had echoed through the woods. I also thought of the glimpse I had caught in the light of Lord John's torch. I had seen that bloated, warty muzzle, dripping with blood. Even now I was on the monster's hunting ground. At any moment, that nameless, horrible creature might spring at me from the shadows. I stopped, took a cartridge from my pocket, and opened the breech of my gun. As I touched the lever, my heart leaped. I had taken the shotgun, not the rifle!

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.

Once again, I felt a strong urge to turn back. Surely, I had an excellent reason to fail, and no one would think less of me for it. But once again, my foolish pride rebelled at the very word. I could not, must not, fail. After all, my rifle would probably have been as useless as a shotgun against whatever dangers I might meet. If I went back to camp to change weapons, I could hardly expect to come and go unseen. Then I would have to explain myself, and my attempt would no longer be mine alone. After hesitating a little, I gathered my courage and continued on 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.

The darkness of the forest had been frightening, but the white, still moonlight in the iguanodons' open glade was even worse. Hidden among the bushes, I looked out at the glade. None of the great beasts were in sight. Perhaps the tragedy that had struck one of them had driven them from their feeding ground. In the misty, silvery night, I could see no sign of any living thing. So I gathered my courage and hurried across the glade. In the jungle on the far side, I found the brook that was guiding me. It was a cheerful companion, gurgling and chuckling as it ran. It reminded me of the dear old trout stream in the West Country where I had fished at night as a boy. As long as I followed the brook downstream, I would reach the lake. And as long as I followed it back upstream, I would reach the camp. I often lost sight of it because of the tangled brush, but I could always hear it tinkling and splashing.

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.

As I went down the slope, the woods grew thinner. Bushes and occasional tall trees replaced the forest. So I could make good progress and see without being seen. I passed close to the pterodactyl swamp. As I did, one of the great creatures rose from somewhere nearby and soared into the air. Its wings made a dry, crisp, leathery rattle. They stretched at least twenty feet from tip to tip. As it passed across the moon, the light shone clearly through its membranous wings. It looked like a flying skeleton against the white tropical glow. I crouched low among the bushes. From past experience, I knew that one cry could bring a hundred of its loathsome mates down on me. Only after it had settled again did I dare to sneak onward.

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.

The night had been extremely still, but as I went on, I noticed a low, rumbling sound somewhere ahead. It was a continuous murmur, and it grew louder as I moved on. At last, it was clearly quite close. When I stood still, the sound continued, so it seemed to come from something in one place. It was like a boiling kettle or a great pot bubbling. Soon I found the source. In the center of a small clearing was a lake, or rather a pool. It was no larger than the basin of the Trafalgar Square fountain. The pool was filled with a black, pitch-like substance. Great bubbles of gas rose and burst on its surface. The air above it shimmered with heat, and the ground around it was so hot I could hardly bear to touch it. Clearly, the great volcanic eruption that had raised this strange plateau so many years ago had not yet spent all its force. Everywhere, I had already seen blackened rocks and mounds of lava peeking out from the lush vegetation covering them. But this asphalt pool in the jungle was our first sign of actual volcanic activity on the slopes of the ancient crater. I had no time to examine it further, because I had to hurry if I was to reach camp by 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.

It was a terrifying walk, and I will remember it as long as my memory lasts. In the wide, moonlit clearings, I slipped along in the shadows at the edges. In the jungle, I crept forward, stopping with my heart pounding whenever I heard branches crash as a wild animal passed. I heard this often. Now and then, huge shadows appeared for a moment and vanished. They were silent and seemed to prowl on padded feet. Many times I stopped, intending to turn back. But each time, my pride overcame my fear and sent me on again until I reached my goal.

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.

At last, I saw water gleaming through openings in the jungle. My watch showed that it was one in the morning. Ten minutes later, I was among the reeds at the edge of the central lake. I was very thirsty, so I lay down and took a long drink. The water was fresh and cold. A broad path with many tracks led to the spot I had found. It was clearly one of the places where the animals came to drink. Near the water’s edge stood a huge, isolated block of lava. I climbed it and lay down on top, where 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!

The first thing I saw filled me with amazement. When I described the view from the top of the great tree, I mentioned some dark spots on the distant cliff. They looked like cave entrances. Now, as I looked up at the same cliffs, I saw circles of light in every direction. They were reddish, sharply defined patches, like the portholes of a ship in the darkness. For a moment, I thought they were the glow of lava from volcanic activity, but that could not be true. Any volcanic activity would surely be down in the hollow, not high among the rocks. What else could it be? The answer was astonishing, but it had to be true. The reddish spots had to be reflections of fires inside the caves, fires that only humans could have lit. There were human beings on the plateau! How wonderfully my expedition had been justified! What news we had to take back 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.

For a long time, I lay watching these red, flickering patches of light. I suppose they were ten miles away. Even at that distance, I could see them flicker or disappear when someone passed in front of them. What I would have given to crawl up to them and peek inside! I could have brought back word to my comrades about the appearance and character of the people living in such a strange place. For the moment, that was out of the question. Yet surely we could not leave the plateau until we knew something definite about them.

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.

Lake Gladys, my own lake, lay before me like a sheet of liquid silver. The moon shone brightly in its reflection at the center. The lake was shallow, for I could see low sandbanks rising above the water in many places. Everywhere on the still surface, I saw signs of life. Sometimes there were only rings and ripples. Sometimes a large fish with silver sides flashed in the air. Sometimes the arched, slate-colored back of a passing monster appeared. Once, on a yellow sandbank, I saw a creature like a huge swan. It had a clumsy body and a tall, flexible neck, and it shuffled along the water's edge. Soon it plunged in. For a while, I could see its arched neck and darting head moving in waves over the water. Then it dived, and I did not see it again.

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.

My attention soon shifted from these distant sights to what was happening at my feet. Two creatures like large armadillos had come down to the drinking place. They crouched at the water’s edge, their long, flexible tongues darting in and out like red ribbons as they lapped. A huge deer with branching antlers came down with its mate and two young. It was a magnificent creature that carried itself like a king. The deer drank beside the armadillos. No such deer exist anywhere else on earth. The moose or elk I have seen would hardly have reached its shoulders. Soon, the deer gave a warning snort and fled with its family into the reeds. The armadillos also scuttled away to find shelter. A newcomer, a truly 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.

For a moment, I wondered where I had seen that awkward shape before. It had an arched back with triangular fringes along it and a strange, bird-like head held close to the ground. Then I remembered. It was the stegosaurus, the very creature Maple White had drawn in his sketchbook. The drawing had been the first thing to catch Challenger’s attention! There he was, perhaps the very specimen the American artist had encountered. The ground shook under his tremendous weight, and his gulps of water echoed through the still night. For five minutes he was so close to my rock that I could have reached out and touched the hideous, waving spines on his back. Then he lumbered away and disappeared 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 looked at my watch and saw that it was half past two. It was high time I started back. I had no trouble finding the way. I had kept the little brook on my left the whole time. It flowed into the central lake a stone's throw from the boulder where I had been lying. So I set off in high spirits. I felt I had done good work and was bringing my companions plenty of news. Most important, of course, I had seen the fiery caves and was certain that a race of cave dwellers inhabited them. But I could also speak from experience about the central lake. I could say for certain that it was full of strange creatures. I had also seen several kinds of prehistoric land life that we had not encountered before. As I walked, I reflected that few men in the world could have spent a stranger night or added more to human knowledge in its course.

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 was trudging up the slope, turning these thoughts over in my mind. I had reached a point that may have been halfway home when a strange noise behind me brought me back to my surroundings. It was somewhere between a snore and a growl, low, deep, and extremely threatening. Some strange creature was clearly near me, but I could see nothing, so I hurried on. I had gone about half a mile when I suddenly heard the sound again. It was still behind me, but louder and more threatening than before. My heart stopped as I realized that the beast, whatever it was, must surely be after ME. My skin grew cold and my hair stood on end at the thought. These monsters tearing each other to pieces was part of the strange struggle for survival. But the thought that they would turn on modern man was staggering and terrifying. They would deliberately track and hunt down the dominant human. I remembered again the blood-smeared face we had seen in the beam of Lord John's torch. It had looked like a horrible vision from the deepest circle of Dante's hell. With my knees shaking, I stood and stared with wide eyes down the moonlit path behind me. Everything was quiet, like a landscape in a dream. I could see nothing but silver clearings and dark patches of bushes. Then, out of the silence, came that low, throaty croaking again. It was far louder and closer than before, and the threat felt immediate. There could no longer be any doubt. Something was following me and closing in with 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.

I stood as if paralyzed, still staring at the ground I had crossed. Then I suddenly saw it. Something moved among the bushes at the far end of the clearing I had just crossed. A huge, dark shadow emerged and hopped into the open moonlight. I say "hopped" deliberately, because the beast moved like a kangaroo. It sprang along upright on its powerful hind legs, with its front legs bent before it. It was enormous and powerful, like an upright elephant. But despite its bulk, it moved with remarkable speed and agility. For a moment, its shape made me hope it was an iguanodon, which I knew was harmless. But even with my limited knowledge, I soon saw that this was a very different creature. The great three-toed leaf-eater had a gentle, deer-shaped head. This beast had a broad, squat, toad-like face, like the one that had frightened us in our camp. Its fierce cry and the terrifying energy of its pursuit convinced me of what it was. Surely, it was one of the great meat-eating dinosaurs, the most terrible beasts ever to walk the earth. As the huge brute loped along, it dropped onto its front paws every twenty yards or so. Each time, it brought its nose to the ground. It was following my scent. Sometimes, for a moment, it lost the trail. Then it would pick it up again and bound 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.

Even now, when I think of that nightmare, sweat breaks out on my forehead. What could I do? I held my useless shotgun in my hand. How could it help me? I looked desperately around for a rock or tree, but I was in a jungle full of bushes. Nothing taller than a sapling was in sight. And I knew the creature behind me could tear down an ordinary tree as easily as a reed. My only possible chance was to run. I could not move quickly over the rough, uneven ground. But as I looked around in despair, I saw a clear, well-worn path crossing in front of me. We had seen several paths like it on our expeditions, tracks made by various wild animals. I was a fast runner and in excellent condition, so perhaps I could hold my own along this path. I threw away my useless gun and set out to run half a mile as I never had before or since. My limbs ached, and my chest heaved. I felt as though my throat would burst for lack of air. Yet with that horror behind me, I ran and ran and ran. At last I stopped, hardly able to move. For a moment I thought I had shaken him off. The path behind me was still. Then suddenly the beast was upon me again, crashing and tearing through the jungle. His giant feet thudded, and his monstrous lungs panted. He was right at my 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.

What a fool I was to wait so long before running! Until then, he had been tracking me by scent and moving slowly. But he had actually seen me when I started to run. After that, he hunted by sight, following me along the path. Now he came around the bend in great leaps. The moonlight shone on his huge, bulging eyes and the row of enormous teeth in his open mouth. It also lit the gleaming row of claws on his short, powerful forearms. With a scream of terror, I turned and ran wildly down the path. Behind me, the creature’s heavy, gasping breaths grew louder and louder. His heavy footsteps were beside me. At any moment, I expected to feel him grab my back. Then suddenly there was 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.

When I regained consciousness, I noticed a terrible, overpowering smell. I don't think I could have been unconscious for more than a few minutes. I reached out in the darkness and touched something that felt like a huge lump of meat. My other hand closed around a large bone. Above me was a circle of starry sky. It 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 every limb could move and every joint could bend. As I remembered the circumstances of my fall, I looked up in terror. I expected to see that dreadful head silhouetted against the paling sky. But there was no sign of the monster, and I could hear no sound from above. So I began to walk slowly around, feeling in every direction. I wanted to find out what this strange place was, the place I had fallen into at such a fortunate moment.

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.

As I have said, it was a pit with steeply sloping walls and a flat bottom about twenty feet across. The bottom was littered with huge chunks of flesh, most of them almost completely rotten. The air was poisonous and horrible. I tripped and stumbled over these rotting lumps, then suddenly bumped into something hard. I found an upright post firmly fixed in the center of the pit. It was so tall that I could not reach the top, and it seemed to be covered in 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.

Suddenly, I remembered that I had a tin box of wax matches in my pocket. I struck one and could finally see what kind of place I had fallen into. There was no doubt about it. It was a trap, made by human hands. The post in the center was about nine feet long and sharpened at the top. It was black with the dried blood of creatures that had been impaled on it. The remains scattered around were fragments of the victims. They had been cut away to clear the stake for the next creature that stumbled in. I remembered that Challenger had said humans could not live on the plateau. Their weapons were too weak to defend them against the monsters that roamed there. But now it was clear how they could survive. Whoever the natives were, their narrow-mouthed caves gave them shelter that the huge saurians could not enter. Their advanced brains also enabled them to set traps like this one. They covered them with branches and placed them across the animals' paths. These traps could kill the creatures despite all their strength and speed. 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.

The sloping wall of the pit was not difficult for an active man to climb. But I hesitated a long time before putting myself within reach of the dreadful creature that had nearly killed me. How did I know he was not hiding in the nearest clump of bushes, waiting for me to reappear? But I took courage when I remembered a conversation between Challenger and Summerlee about the habits of the great saurians. Both agreed that the monsters were practically brainless. Their skulls were so small that there was no room for reason. They agreed that if the saurians had disappeared from the rest of the world, it was certainly because of their own stupidity. That stupidity made it impossible for them to adapt 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.

For the creature to lie in wait for me now, it would have to understand what had happened to me. That would suggest some ability to connect cause and effect. Surely it was more likely to be a brainless creature, acting only on vague predatory instinct. Wouldn't it give up the chase when I disappeared? After pausing in surprise, wouldn't it wander off in search of other prey? I climbed to the edge of the pit and looked out. The stars were fading, the sky was growing lighter, and the cold morning wind felt pleasant on my face. I could neither see nor hear my enemy. Slowly, I climbed out and sat on the ground for a while. I was ready to jump back into the pit if any danger appeared. The complete stillness and growing light reassured me. Then I gathered my courage and crept back along the path I had taken. Some way along it, I picked up my gun. Soon afterward, I reached the brook that would guide me home. With many a frightened glance behind me, I headed 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.

Suddenly, something reminded me of my absent companions. In the clear, still morning air, I heard the sharp crack of a single rifle shot far away. I stopped and listened, but heard nothing more. For a moment, I was alarmed by the thought that some sudden danger might have struck them. But then a simpler and more natural explanation came to mind. It was broad daylight now. No doubt they had noticed my absence. They must have thought I was lost in the woods and fired the shot to guide me home. We had made a strict promise not to fire, but they would not hesitate if they thought I might be in danger. Now I had to hurry on as fast as I could 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 exhausted, so I could not move as fast as I wanted. But at last I reached familiar territory. The swamp of the pterodactyls was on my left, and the glade of the iguanodons lay ahead. Now only one last stretch of trees separated me from Fort Challenger. I called out a cheerful greeting to ease my comrades’ fears. No one called back. My heart sank at the ominous silence. I broke into a run. The zareba stood before me, just as I had left it, but the gate was open. I rushed in. In the cold morning light, I saw a terrifying sight. Our belongings were scattered in wild confusion across the ground. My comrades had disappeared, and beside the smoldering ashes of our fire, a hideous pool of blood stained the grass crimson.

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.

The sudden shock stunned me so badly that I must have nearly lost my mind for a while. I vaguely remember rushing through the woods around the empty camp, calling wildly for my companions. The memory is like a bad dream. No answer came from the silent shadows. I was driven to desperation by the horrible thought that I might never see them again. I might be abandoned all alone in that dreadful place, with no way down to the world below. I might live and die in that nightmare country. In my despair, I could have torn my hair and beaten my head. Only then did I realize how much I had come to rely on my companions. I had depended on Challenger’s calm confidence and Lord John Roxton’s commanding, good-humored composure. Without them, I was like a child in the dark, helpless and powerless. I did not know which way to turn or what to 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.

After sitting in confusion for a while, I tried to figure out what sudden misfortune had struck my companions. The disordered state of the camp showed that there had been some kind of attack. The rifle shot had no doubt marked the moment it happened. The fact that there had been only one shot showed that the attack had been over in an instant. The rifles still lay on the ground. One of them, Lord John's, had an empty cartridge in the breech. Challenger's and Summerlee's blankets lay beside the fire, suggesting that they had been asleep at the time. The ammunition and food cases were scattered in a wild mess, along with our unfortunate cameras and photographic plate holders. But none of them were missing. On the other hand, all the food left out in the open was gone. I remembered that there had been a considerable amount of it. So animals, not natives, had raided the camp, for surely the natives 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.

But if animals, or one terrible animal, had done this, what had happened to my companions? A ferocious beast would surely have killed them and left their remains. There was, of course, that one hideous pool of blood, which showed that violence had occurred. A monster like the one that had chased me during the night could have carried off a victim. It could have done so as easily as a cat carries off a mouse. In that case, the others would have followed in pursuit. But then they would surely have taken their rifles with them. The more I tried to reason it out with my confused and weary brain, the less I could find a plausible explanation. I searched the forest around the camp, but saw no tracks that could help me reach a conclusion. Once I got lost, and only by luck did I find the camp again after an hour of wandering.

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.

Suddenly, a thought came to me and brought me a little comfort. I was not completely alone in the world. Faithful Zambo was waiting at the bottom of the cliff, close enough to hear me call. I went to the edge of the plateau and looked down. Sure enough, he was sitting among his blankets beside the fire in his little camp. But to my amazement, a second man was sitting in front of him. For a moment, my heart leaped with joy. I thought one of my companions had made his way safely down. But a second look dashed that hope. The rising sun shone red on the man's skin. He was an Indian. I shouted loudly and waved my handkerchief. Soon Zambo looked up, waved, and started climbing the pinnacle. Before long, he was standing beside me, deeply distressed as he listened to my story.

"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."

"The devil got them for sure, Master Malone," he said. "You got into the devil's country, sir, and he take you all to himself. You take advice, Master Malone, and come down quick, or he get you as well."

"How can I come down, Zambo?"

"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."

"Get vines from the trees, Master Malone. Throw them over here. I tie them to this stump, and so you have a bridge."

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

"We've thought of that. There are no vines here strong enough to support us."

"Send for ropes, Massa Malone."

"Send for ropes, Master Malone."

"Who can I send, and where?"

"Who can I send, and where?"

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

"Send to Indian villages, sir. Plenty hide rope in Indian village. Indian down below. Send him."

"Who is he?

"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."

"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.

Take a letter! Why not? Perhaps he might bring help. But in any case, he would make sure our lives were not spent for nothing. He would also make sure news of all we had won for science reached our friends at home. I already had two completed letters waiting. I would spend the day writing a third, bringing my account of my experiences completely up to date. The Indian could carry it back to the world. So I told Zambo to come again in the evening. I spent my miserable, lonely day writing down my adventures from the night before. I also wrote a note for any white merchant or steamboat captain the Indian could find. In it, I begged them to make sure ropes were sent to us, because our lives depended on them. That evening, I threw these documents down to Zambo, along with 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.

So now you understand, my dear Mr. McArdle, how this message reaches you. You will also know the truth if you never hear from your unfortunate correspondent again. Tonight I am too tired and too depressed to make plans. Tomorrow I must find a way to stay in touch with this camp while searching for any trace of my unhappy friends.