The Land That Time Forgot

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  Chapter 10

  Once a day I descend to the base of the cliff and hunt, and fill mystomach with water from a clear cold spring. I have three gourds whichI fill with water and take back to my cave against the long nights. Ihave fashioned a spear and a bow and arrow, that I may conserve myammunition, which is running low. My clothes are worn to shreds.Tomorrow I shall discard them for leopard-skins which I have tanned andsewn into a garment strong and warm. It is cold up here. I have afire burning and I sit bent over it while I write; but I am safe here.No other living creature ventures to the chill summit of the barriercliffs. I am safe, and I am alone with my sorrows and my rememberedjoys--but without hope. It is said that hope springs eternal in thehuman breast; but there is none in mine.

  I am about done. Presently I shall fold these pages and push them intomy thermos bottle. I shall cork it and screw the cap tight, and then Ishall hurl it as far out into the sea as my strength will permit. Thewind is off-shore; the tide is running out; perhaps it will be carriedinto one of those numerous ocean-currents which sweep perpetually frompole to pole and from continent to continent, to be deposited at lastupon some inhabited shore. If fate is kind and this does happen, then,for God's sake, come and get me!

  It was a week ago that I wrote the preceding paragraph, which I thoughtwould end the written record of my life upon Caprona. I had paused toput a new point on my quill and stir the crude ink (which I made bycrushing a black variety of berry and mixing it with water) beforeattaching my signature, when faintly from the valley far below came anunmistakable sound which brought me to my feet, trembling withexcitement, to peer eagerly downward from my dizzy ledge. How full ofmeaning that sound was to me you may guess when I tell you that it wasthe report of a firearm! For a moment my gaze traversed the landscapebeneath until it was caught and held by four figures near the base ofthe cliff--a human figure held at bay by three hyaenodons, thoseferocious and blood-thirsty wild dogs of the Eocene. A fourth beastlay dead or dying near by.

  I couldn't be sure, looking down from above as I was; but yet Itrembled like a leaf in the intuitive belief that it was Lys, and myjudgment served to confirm my wild desire, for whoever it was carriedonly a pistol, and thus had Lys been armed. The first wave of suddenjoy which surged through me was short-lived in the face of theswift-following conviction that the one who fought below was alreadydoomed. Luck and only luck it must have been which had permitted thatfirst shot to lay low one of the savage creatures, for even such aheavy weapon as my pistol is entirely inadequate against even thelesser carnivora of Caspak. In a moment the three would charge! Afutile shot would but tend more greatly to enrage the one it chanced tohit; and then the three would drag down the little human figure andtear it to pieces.

  And maybe it was Lys! My heart stood still at the thought, but mindand muscle responded to the quick decision I was forced to make. Therewas but a single hope--a single chance--and I took it. I raised myrifle to my shoulder and took careful aim. It was a long shot, adangerous shot, for unless one is accustomed to it, shooting from aconsiderable altitude is most deceptive work. There is, though,something about marksmanship which is quite beyond all scientific laws.

  Upon no other theory can I explain my marksmanship of that moment.Three times my rifle spoke--three quick, short syllables of death. Idid not take conscious aim; and yet at each report a beast crumpled inits tracks!

  From my ledge to the base of the cliff is a matter of several thousandfeet of dangerous climbing; yet I venture to say that the first apefrom whose loins my line has descended never could have equaled thespeed with which I literally dropped down the face of that ruggedescarpment. The last two hundred feet is over a steep incline of looserubble to the valley bottom, and I had just reached the top of thiswhen there arose to my ears an agonized cry--"Bowen! Bowen! Quick, mylove, quick!"

  I had been too much occupied with the dangers of the descent to glancedown toward the valley; but that cry which told me that it was indeedLys, and that she was again in danger, brought my eyes quickly upon herin time to see a hairy, burly brute seize her and start off at a runtoward the near-by wood. From rock to rock, chamoislike, I leapeddownward toward the valley, in pursuit of Lys and her hideous abductor.

  He was heavier than I by many pounds, and so weighted by the burden hecarried that I easily overtook him; and at last he turned, snarling, toface me. It was Kho of the tribe of Tsa, the hatchet-men. Herecognized me, and with a low growl he threw Lys aside and came for me."The she is mine," he cried. "I kill! I kill!"

  I had had to discard my rifle before I commenced the rapid descent ofthe cliff, so that now I was armed only with a hunting knife, and thisI whipped from its scabbard as Kho leaped toward me. He was a mightybeast, mightily muscled, and the urge that has made males fight sincethe dawn of life on earth filled him with the blood-lust and the thirstto slay; but not one whit less did it fill me with the same primalpassions. Two abysmal beasts sprang at each other's throats that daybeneath the shadow of earth's oldest cliffs--the man of now and theman-thing of the earliest, forgotten then, imbued by the same deathlesspassion that has come down unchanged through all the epochs, periodsand eras of time from the beginning, and which shall continue to theincalculable end--woman, the imperishable Alpha and Omega of life.

  Kho closed and sought my jugular with his teeth. He seemed to forgetthe hatchet dangling by its aurochs-hide thong at his hip, as I forgot,for the moment, the dagger in my hand. And I doubt not but that Khowould easily have bested me in an encounter of that sort had not Lys'voice awakened within my momentarily reverted brain the skill andcunning of reasoning man.

  "Bowen!" she cried. "Your knife! Your knife!"

  It was enough. It recalled me from the forgotten eon to which my brainhad flown and left me once again a modern man battling with a clumsy,unskilled brute. No longer did my jaws snap at the hairy throat beforeme; but instead my knife sought and found a space between two ribs overthe savage heart. Kho voiced a single horrid scream, stiffenedspasmodically and sank to the earth. And Lys threw herself into myarms. All the fears and sorrows of the past were wiped away, and onceagain I was the happiest of men.

  With some misgivings I shortly afterward cast my eyes upward toward theprecarious ledge which ran before my cave, for it seemed to me quitebeyond all reason to expect a dainty modern belle to essay the perilsof that frightful climb. I asked her if she thought she could bravethe ascent, and she laughed gayly in my face.

  "Watch!" she cried, and ran eagerly toward the base of the cliff. Likea squirrel she clambered swiftly aloft, so that I was forced to exertmyself to keep pace with her. At first she frightened me; butpresently I was aware that she was quite as safe here as was I. When wefinally came to my ledge and I again held her in my arms, she recalledto my mind that for several weeks she had been living the life of acave-girl with the tribe of hatchet-men. They had been driven fromtheir former caves by another tribe which had slain many and carriedoff quite half the females, and the new cliffs to which they had flownhad proven far higher and more precipitous, so that she had become,through necessity, a most practiced climber.

  She told me of Kho's desire for her, since all his females had beenstolen and of how her life had been a constant nightmare of terror asshe sought by night and by day to elude the great brute. For a timeNobs had been all the protection she required; but one day hedisappeared--nor has she seen him since. She believes that he wasdeliberately made away with; and so do I, for we both are sure that henever would have deserted her. With her means of protection gone, Lyswas now at the mercy of the hatchet-man; nor was it many hours beforehe had caught her at the base of the cliff and seized her; but as hebore her triumphantly aloft toward his cave, she had managed to breakloose and escape him.

  "For three days he has pursued me," she said, "through this horribleworld. How I have passed through in safety I cannot guess, nor how Ihave always managed to outdistance him; yet I have done it, until justas you discovered me. Fate was kind to us
, Bowen."

  I nodded my head in assent and crushed her to me. And then we talkedand planned as I cooked antelope-steaks over my fire, and we came tothe conclusion that there was no hope of rescue, that she and I weredoomed to live and die upon Caprona. Well, it might be worse! I wouldrather live here always with Lys than to live elsewhere without her;and she, dear girl, says the same of me; but I am afraid of this lifefor her. It is a hard, fierce, dangerous life, and I shall pray alwaysthat we shall be rescued from it--for her sake.

  That night the clouds broke, and the moon shone down upon our littleledge; and there, hand in hand, we turned our faces toward heaven andplighted our troth beneath the eyes of God. No human agency could havemarried us more sacredly than we are wed. We are man and wife, and weare content. If God wills it, we shall live out our lives here. If Hewills otherwise, then this manuscript which I shall now consign to theinscrutable forces of the sea shall fall into friendly hands. However,we are each without hope. And so we say good-bye in this, our lastmessage to the world beyond the barrier cliffs.

  (Signed) Bowen J. Tyler, Jr. Lys La R. Tyler.