by Tim Collins
We left the trunk with the rest of our cases in the boarding house store room last night. Our room was two floors up, so we wouldn’t have heard if anyone had opened the trunk and broken the bones.
But why would they do it?
Perhaps they were a local who hates visitors coming to the town, or a drunken vandal. But why target our bones? They’re only valuable to us.
I don’t suppose it really matters. The important thing is that my bad luck has returned. I shall just have to hope it stays away from now on.
Friday, August 26th
Hell Creek is living up to its name in terms of temperature, but the bone bed more than makes up for it. We had to walk for two miles across flat, scorching land to get to the place Mr. Armstrong had marked, but it was worth it.
We came across the end of a thigh bone in this morning’s dig, but it was so huge we didn’t manage to get it out of the ground until late this evening.
It reached above Father’s waist when he stood next to it, and he’s not a short man. It needed both of us to carry it back, and the woman who runs the boarding house gave us a funny look when we asked if we could store it in the hallway. If we find a full skeleton of this beast, I have no idea how we’ll get it back home. But I’ll make a raft out of it and paddle home if I have to. Anything to wave this massive bone in the faces of Sir Leopold Pinkerton Hamilton and his friends.
Monday, August 29th
This morning we unearthed what I thought was a shin bone, but I soon discovered that it tapered toward the end.
We finished removing it this evening, and it turned out to be some kind of horn. It’s almost as big as the thigh, so it can’t have come from any living animal.
This is exciting. There’s nothing like this in any of Mr. Armstrong’s journals. If this is a new dinosaur, it must be one of the most remarkable ones of all.
Tuesday, August 30th
I’ve pieced much of the creature’s skull together now, and I was right about it being very distinctive. I think the complete skull would be about six feet long. If this is from the same creature as the thigh bone, its proportions must have been bizarre. Maybe its head was very big compared to its body, or maybe it had lots of legs, like a caterpillar.
As far as I can tell, the creature had two large horns on either side of its head. There was another horn on the end of its nose, which was shorter and wider. Its skull flattened out into a plate with pointy bits on the end.
It’s a shame the skull is broken, but it at least means we’ll be able to get it home. We’ll carry the trunk out tomorrow morning and bring the skull pieces back in the evening. Then we can move on to our next stop, Black Canyon.
GET REAL
The skull Ann has found belongs to the creature now known as Triceratops. It was a large plant-eating dinosaur that lived around 68 million years ago. It’s one of the most recognizable dinosaurs, thanks to its three horns and the bony frill around the back of its head.
The neck frill might have helped it to defend itself against its main predator, Tyrannosaurus rex, or it might have regulated body temperature. Another theory is that the frills were used for displays of dominance, like the antlers in animals such as reindeer.
Triceratops was identified by Othniel Charles Marsh after specimens were sent to him by bone collectors. At first he thought the horns must have belonged to an extinct buffalo, but he soon realized they were from a dinosaur.
Chapter 5
-
A Dangerous Expedition
Wednesday, August 31st
Today my dreadful curse struck again. I spent the morning searching for the rest of the creature’s remains, but found nothing. I still had my thigh bone and the impressive skull, so I had no reason to be frustrated.
We managed to fit all the skull pieces into the trunk, except for the thigh bone and tusk, which we tied to the top.
We were on our way back to our boarding house when we heard hooves thundering behind us. Three men were approaching on horseback.
Before long they were circling us and kicking up a huge cloud of dust.
When they came to a halt, I asked them what they wanted. One of them took a pistol out of his holster and pointed it at us while the others untied cloth sacks and held them out.
“Give us what’s inside your trunk,” said the first man. “Do it fast.”
Despite the peril of our situation, I couldn’t stop myself laughing. The bandits must have thought they’d struck gold by chancing across a pair of tourists carrying their luggage through the desert. I couldn’t wait to see their faces when they found out what we were actually carrying.
We placed the trunk on the floor and Father opened it up. I smiled at the man with the gun and shrugged.
Instead of rolling his eyes and admitting his mistake, the first bandit simply said, “In the sacks.”
“These are just old bones,” I said. I tried to sound calm, but I could hear my voice wavering. “There are hundreds more in the ground around here.”
The man just pointed his gun to the empty sack, and then back at us.
“Please let us go,” said Father. “These old scraps aren’t worth anything.”
It was true. The broken skull of an ancient creature would be worth nothing to these bandits. It wouldn’t even make an interesting curiosity to wager in a card game. Yet to me, it meant everything. It was a piece of solid evidence of an entirely new creature that I could take back to the Geological Society.
The bandit just stared at us in silence. I suspected his expression wouldn’t change if he pulled the trigger. It was probably something he’d done a hundred times before.
I loved the broken skull, but it wasn’t worth being killed for. I carried the pieces over from the trunk into the cloth sacks. At every stage, I was expecting the men to realize they were stealing something worthless and give up. But it never happened. Eventually, I’d handed all the pieces over. The bandits tied the sacks to their horses and galloped away.
We trudged back to our boarding house as the men rode out of sight and my precious skull disappeared with them.
Thursday, September 1st
We have carried on to our next stop, Black Canyon. What else could we do?
I am now convinced my bad luck will strike at every turn. Every time I make a discovery, cruel fate will snatch it away. But I cannot simply admit defeat and go home. I shall have to carry on, even if further disaster awaits.
All I’ve ever wanted is to be a great fossil collector. If I waste six months and all our savings only to return home empty-handed, I shall officially be the worst in the world.
But I must keep trying to escape my terrible curse.
Sunday, September 4th
We have enjoyed a spell of cooler weather, which has allowed us to work through the day. No success so far, however. The spot Mr. Armstrong marked as a bone bed has yielded only dull rocks. I must force myself to keep going, and try not to think about the wonderful skull the bandits stole.
Tuesday, September 6th
Just two days before we are due to leave, we have finally found something. This morning I struck upon a large, flat bone I hoped would be part of another three-horned skull. But it turned out to be the pelvis of an altogether different creature. Soon afterward I found a toe bone, a thigh bone, four teeth, and several fragments of rib. This is a very large dinosaur, one that would tower far above humans if it were still alive.
After consulting Mr. Armstrong’s journals, I can conclude that we’ve found yet another new species. That’s three major discoveries in just four locations. This truly is a country rich in brilliant fossils. If only my bad luck hadn’t followed me here.
GET REAL
The dinosaur Ann has discovered is Allosaurus, a predator that lived in the late Jurassic period. It had strong hind limbs, a long tail, and teeth that cu
rved backward so it could hold onto prey. Scientists have recently found evidence that Allosaurus battled Stegosaurus, which would be a good fight to pull up a seat and watch if you ever invent a time machine.
Wednesday, September 7th
Once again, we have been hit by the curse. And once again we must move on to our next destination without our precious bones.
I kept on working until late last night. I managed to find a few more of the sharp, curved teeth and an intact rib. I felt as though a skull must be close, but I gave up as the sun began to set.
The trunk was very heavy with all the bones inside, so we made slow progress back to our boarding house. There was an astonishing orange sunset ahead of us, but I would have traded it for a glimpse of ancient skull.
When I heard horses approaching, I thought we may be under attack by bandits again. But when I glanced over my shoulder I saw it was just a wooden wagon covered in dirty white cloth. I didn’t think they could want anything with us, so I kept on walking.
The wagon pulled up alongside us and the rider shouted, “Hey!” He peered at us with his small black eyes. His face was matted with dust and he was missing a lot of his teeth. A woman who was sitting next to him had her face set into a tight squint as though she was staring into the sun. Flies were swarming around her dark shirt, and she made no effort to brush them away.
“That them?” she asked.
“Must be,” said the man.
Father waved at them. “I’m not sure who you think we are, but there’s been a huge misunderstanding,” he said. “We are visitors from England and we mean you no harm.”
The man turned to his side and spat before fixing his eyes back on Father.
Father took his hat off and bowed. “It’s been lovely to meet you, but if you don’t mind we’ll be on our way.”
The man pointed at the trunk and said, “Open it.”
I pushed the lid open and the couple peered inside.
“That’s them alright,” said the woman.
Someone else was shuffling around in the dark space of the wagon. There was a metallic clack and an old lady with wild gray hair sprung forward. She was pointing a huge rifle right at Father.
“Grave robbin’ scum!” she shouted.
“You’ve got it wrong,” said Father. “We’re nothing of the sort.” He held his hands above his head and I noticed they were quaking.
“We know what you been doing,” said the man. “We found the earth on our family grave disturbed. We spoke to a gentleman who was passing, and he said he’d seen two folks just like you stealing the bones. He said we’d catch you if we was fast.”
The woman let out a loud sob and the man squeezed her hand. The old lady scowled at us and clasped the rifle’s trigger. Even the horse seemed to be frowning.
“Anyway, we’ve caught you now,” said the man. “We don’t know what you’re doing with the bones but—”
“I know what they’re doing,” said the old woman. “Witchcraft!”
“I’m not a witch!” I said.
“That’s exactly what a witch would say!” yelled the old woman. There were only a couple of teeth left in her dark gums.
I pointed into the trunk. “These bones are far too big to be from your family plot. Look . . . ”
I reached into the case and the woman let out another sob. I held one of the thigh bones next to me, and it came all the way up to my chest.
“See?” I asked. “It’s from a lizard, not a human.”
The man stared at it in confusion. The woman stopped sobbing and wiped her red eyes.
“She’s put a spell on them,” said the old lady. “Probably trying to bring them back to life but made them grow instead.”
The man put his hand on the end of her rifle and forced it down. “No,” he said. “I reckon she’s telling the truth. Even Uncle Abraham wasn’t that tall.”
“Why would there be lizards round here anyway?” asked the old lady. “Unless a witch summoned them.”
“Maybe so,” said the man. “But it’s none of our business. We’ve got enough problems of our own without witches and lizards.” He fixed his tiny eyes on me. “You can go.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed my side of the trunk.
“Leave the bones here,” said the old lady. “I want to check in case there are some you ain’t bewitched yet.”
I was about to argue back when I saw Father scooping the bones out.
“Let’s cut our losses,” he said. “We’ve got out of this without taking any rifle blasts. I’d say that was a good result.”
I supposed he was right.
When Father had finished removing our precious finds, we picked up the empty case and trudged back.
As we were going, I turned back to the family.
“What did the man look like?” I asked. “The one who said we’d been robbing your graves?”
“About as tall as me,” said the man. “Maybe a little older. He had a white mustache.”
Thursday, September 8th
There was no sign of a man with a white mustache in the town. I thought he might have been an angry old local, determined to turn everyone against us tourists, but there was no one fitting the description. All the men I saw were too young for white hair and the only people they were angry with were their fellow card players.
Maybe it doesn’t matter who set the family against us. Our efforts will result in disaster whatever we do, because of my curse.
Oh well. At least our next destination, Midway, should be free of unfortunate incidents.
According to Mr. Armstrong’s notes, there’s nothing but a few small boarding houses, a saloon, a store, and some private houses. It was all set up for men working on the railway, and now that the work is complete it may become a ghost town. Surely it’s the sort of place where I can dig for bones without getting hassled by violent bandits or mad locals.
GET REAL
There are many abandoned towns or “ghost towns” in the American West. Some grew rapidly and were abandoned in just a few months. This was often because the town was built around a resource that ran out. An example is Bodie in California, which sprung up around a silver mine. The town had 2,000 buildings and 10,000 inhabitants at its height, but swiftly became a ghost town when the silver
was gone.
Chapter 6
-
A Wolf at
the Door
Friday, September 9th
Midway is just as quiet as we were expecting. The bone bed Mr. Armstrong marked is only a few hundred yards from the boarding house, which itself is just a few hundred yards from the rail station.
We’ve found nothing yet. But if we do, at least I can be confident of getting it onto the train without running into thieves.
Father is already snoring away behind me, leaving me with nothing to do but look back over this journal.
I see that a man with a white mustache spoke to Father on the train platform in New York. Could this be the same man who told the family we’d been stealing from their graves?
I doubt it. He wouldn’t have followed us all the way from New York just to play a practical joke. And Father seemed to think he was very nice.
But what if someone has been behind all the things that have happened to us? Reading back over my diary, I wonder if my belief in my curse has blinded me. Maybe it hasn’t all been bad luck. Maybe it’s been sabotage.
Sunday, September 11th
The Midway bone bed has now yielded its treasure. We moved our dig location a few yards to the right and soon a huge knot of bone emerged. I knew it was some sort of vertebra, but I couldn’t imagine where it would fit into a full skeleton. It was only when I discovered more just like it that I realized I was looking at the parts of a long, flexible neck.
Monday, September 12th
> Today we discovered some tail vertebrae from the same creature. The beast must have been over a hundred feet long. No sign of the legs yet, but whatever they looked like, it must have been very strange. It seems impossible that such a thing could have walked the Earth. Yet the evidence is all right here. These finds could change the way everyone thinks about life on Earth—if I ever manage to get any of them home.
GET REAL
The massive creature Ann has discovered is the Diplodocus. They were a type of plant-eating dinosaur known as sauropods, that had long necks and tails, small heads, and thick legs. Illustrations usually show them reaching up with their long necks to eat leaves, but in truth scientists can’t agree on how flexible their necks were. Some think they could move them around freely, while others believe they were held in a fixed position and they had to rear up on their hind legs to reach tall trees.
Tuesday, September 13th
I’ve found a skull which I think fits with the neck and tail bones, but it’s not very big. If this is indeed the right one, the creature must have looked very funny lumbering around with its tiny head.
I asked Father to lay the creature’s bones out on the ground this evening while I continued my dig. When he’d done it, I noticed he’d put the skull on the tail instead of the neck. I’ll have to be sure he doesn’t do that in front of the Geological Society. A mistake like that could ruin my reputation forever.
GET REAL
Placing a skull at the end of a creature’s tail might seem like a basic error, but it was made by one of the most famous fossil hunters of all. When Edward Drinker Cope was reconstructing a sea reptile called Elasmosaurus in 1868, he thought its head would have been at the end of its short tail rather than its long neck. He (wrongly) assumed the long tail would have been used to propel it through the water.
