The Long-Lost Secret Diary of the World's Worst Dinosaur Hunter

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The Long-Lost Secret Diary of the World's Worst Dinosaur Hunter Page 5

by Tim Collins


  Wednesday, September 14th

  The more I think about it, the more convinced I become that someone has been meddling with us. And tonight, I’m going to find out who.

  This evening we carried our new fossils back to our boarding house in the trunk and examined them on the ground outside. If anyone is spying on us, they’ll have seen our new finds.

  I’m going to make it easy for them. I’ve left the trunk just inside the unlocked entrance to the boarding house. Instead of going to sleep, I’ll watch it from a chair in the hallway.

  At worst, I’ll miss out on a night of sleep. But if it works, I’ll finally catch our tormentor.

  Thursday, September 15th

  We have now abandoned our schedule. We are heading back east on the railroad, toward New York, with an empty trunk. Father is still shaken from what happened last night, and we need to discuss what we’re going to do next.

  There are two hours before our train stops at Black Canyon. I need to talk to Father soon, but first I want to get down everything that happened last night.

  Rather than going upstairs, I pulled a wooden chair into the gloom at the end of the hallway and watched the trunk.

  I sat and stared at it for hour after hour. Every time I felt myself nodding off I shifted in the chair so I was less comfortable. I wanted to be wide awake when our enemy emerged.

  I listened for footsteps but could hear nothing except the distant cries of coyotes outside and Father’s snores from the floor above.

  A voice in my head told me I was wasting my time. That everything that had gone wrong was simply down to my curse and that it would be better to get some sleep. I ignored it and kept staring at the trunk.

  Eventually I couldn’t help it. My head lolled forward and I fell asleep. I dreamed the dinosaurs had come back to life and I was chasing them across the desert. Every time I got close to one I would stumble to the dusty ground. After one such imaginary fall I jolted awake to see the handle of the front door turning.

  My heart was still racing from the dream and I thought I might be imagining things. But the door opened and a tall figure crept in. He passed the hall window and I saw his thin white mustache.

  The man stopped in front of my trunk and unfurled a large cloth sack. Then he slowly opened the lid. He smiled and lifted one of the tail bones out.

  I stood up and stepped forward.

  “What do you want with my bones?” I asked.

  The man with the white mustache jumped, dropping the bone.

  “Please excuse me,” he said, backing toward the door. “I mistook them for the remains of my Uncle Charles.”

  “You used a lie like that before,” I said. “When you told that family from Black Canyon that we were robbing their graves.”

  “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about, young lady,” said the man. “Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for someone.”

  He looked genuinely confused and in my sleepy state I wondered if this really was a misunderstanding. I had to remind myself that I’d caught him in the act of stealing.

  “Did you pay the bandits in Hell Creek to come after us too?” I asked.

  “I don’t follow,” said the man. “You seem to be up very late, so why don’t you run along to bed?”

  There were heavy steps behind me. Father was coming down the stairs.

  He squinted at the man. “You?” he asked. “The man from the station in New York? What on earth are you doing out here?”

  “Okay,” said the man. “I’ll admit it. We have met before. And thanks for blabbing the truth in that station. I had a pretty good idea who you were, but your careless talk confirmed my suspicions.”

  “He’s been following us all along,” I said. “He’s the one who’s been sabotaging our whole expedition.”

  “I’ll soon teach him about that,” said Father, rolling his sleeves up and holding his fists out.

  The man lifted aside his coat, pulled out a handgun and pointed it at us. Father’s hands drooped back down.

  “Of course I’ve been tailing you,” said the man. “Do you think I would let a little schoolgirl like you steal my glory?”

  “What glory?” I asked. “Who are you?”

  “The greatest fossil man in the world,” he said. “I’ve watched your digs with great interest. Your first find was fairly unremarkable, hardly the sort of thing that would help my reputation. I didn’t think the bones were worth sending back east, so I simply hammered them to pieces. Your other finds have been truly magnificent, however. Soon all the world will know about them, and they’ll know them as my discoveries.”

  “But how did you know about our trip?” I asked.

  “Oh come on,” said the man. “I know you’re uneducated, but at least try and show some intelligence.”

  He took a letter out of his pocket. I recognized it straight away. It was one of the pleas for financial help to the American universities.

  “I’m Professor Edwin Wolf of Harvard University,” said the man. “You wrote to me, remember? At first I dismissed your ideas as the daydreams of a young girl with an overactive imagination, but the more I studied the maps, the more I thought you were right about bone beds in the West. I decided to follow you from New York and watch from a distance. If you discovered nothing, I’d have wasted a few weeks. But if you discovered something important, I could take it as easily as candy from a baby.”

  He shoved the letter back into his pocket.

  “If you thought we were right about the bone beds, why didn’t you offer to join us?” I asked. “We could have dug together, and presented our finds to the world together.”

  His cheeks flushed red and the gun trembled in his hand. I was worried he might squeeze the trigger without meaning to.

  “Can you imagine what my colleagues would say if they found I’d needed the assistance of a little girl?” he asked. “That wouldn’t make my reputation. It would destroy it.”

  He took a series of deep breaths and the gun fell still again.

  “But there’s no need to worry about it now,” he said. “I’ve already sent your other finds back east. I shall present them to the American Geological Society later this year, and they shall be named the “great wolfosaurus” and the “three-horned wolfosaurus.” You should forget the rest of your schedule as I shall examine the two final bone beds on your list to see if there are any other fossils that could further my impending fame. In fact, I strongly advise you to return to New York right away and await your crossing home. If I see you again I’ll shoot you without hesitation.”

  He lifted the rest of our bones into his sack, smiled, and went out.

  “This country is truly full of scoundrels,” said Father. “We should never have come.”

  “We’ll know we discovered those dinosaurs,” I said. “Even if no one else does.”

  We went to our room and packed, then we waited at the station for this train.

  I think that’s everything. Now to talk to Father.

  Friday, September 16th

  We now risk our lives with every step we take. That’s because we didn’t head back to New York as Professor Wolf commanded. Instead, we changed trains at Black Canyon and went west again. We passed back through Midway, and then through Rock Spring, which was meant to be our next stop. We carried on to the final bone bed, Pine Bluff.

  At first I wanted to carry on with our schedule as planned, but Father refused. He said he wanted to return to New York, as we’d only had a brief stay last time and he felt like seeing more of it. Hmm. I don’t remember him being so keen on the place before Professor Wolf threatened us.

  When I announced I’d rather be shot than leave this country without an amazing fossil, we came to a compromise. We would travel straight on to the final bone bed at Pine Bluff, get all we could from it, and leave on Wednesday, one day bef
ore Professor Wolf was due to arrive.

  Saturday, September 17th

  Our gamble has been worth it so far. The bone bed here in Pine Bluff is the best of all. I struck a large thigh bone soon after we began last night, which I think comes from the same type of creature we discovered in Black Canyon. This morning I began to uncover the skull pieces of another of those three-horned dinosaurs. That means two of my three major finds are back. Even if Professor Wolf claims these discoveries as his own while we sail home, we’ll still have the first examples outside America.

  Father paced back and forth all day, keeping watch for Professor Wolf. I’m sure the bone bed at Rock Spring will keep that villain occupied until we leave here on Wednesday. But even

  if it doesn’t, I’m enjoying this dig far too much to quit.

  If this is my last diary entry, it means Professor Wolf has caught up with us and made good on his threat.

  Sunday, September 18th

  The problem with this bone bed is that it’s just too good. Today I discovered neck vertebrae like the ones from the Midway site, as well as fragments of shin bones and ribs that I think are from the same creature.

  My new finds have helped me forget all about Professor Wolf’s disgraceful behavior, but they’ve created a new problem. How are we going to get them all home? I’ve already got too much to fit in the trunk.

  Rather disappointingly, Father stayed back at our boarding house today. He said it was because he was tired, but I know it’s really because he’s scared of Professor Wolf. I don’t blame him, I just wish he would be more honest about it.

  I feel a little worried too. Every now and then I’ll spot something out of the corner of my eye and think it’s Professor Wolf stalking toward me with his gun raised. But as soon as I get back to the fabulous bone bed I forget all about the danger.

  Monday, September 19th

  Today I uncovered a new creature that wasn’t at any of the other sites. It’s also unlike anything I’ve seen in Mr. Armstrong’s journals. In fact, it’s unlike anything I’ve seen anywhere.

  The first things I discovered were large bony plates that tapered to a point at the end. I wondered if I’d found some sort of ancient turtle. But then I uncovered a brilliantly-preserved row of ribs next to them and saw it was another dinosaur.

  From the way the plates and ribs were arranged, it looks as though the creature had a row of hard spikes on its back. But what would be the point of that? If the plates were for armor, what good would they do there?

  I have no idea, but I’m glad I got to it before Professor Wolf could. This fearsome beast deserves better than to become known as the “spiky-backed wolfosaurus.”

  I really hope there isn’t another one in the ground around here for Professor Wolf to dig up when he arrives. Even though all my other discoveries have been stolen, I’ll still have this one. Just one find as good as this will be enough for my name to go down in fossil-hunting history.

  I took the spiky monster’s bones back to our room and piled them on top of the others. I have far too many to take back, but I can’t bear to leave any behind.

  If I have to choose one lot of remains, I suppose it will have to be the one from today. But it would break my heart to leave the three-horned dinosaur behind. That’s my favorite of all.

  I told Father about my problem tonight, but he didn’t say anything. He’s so worried about Professor Wolf catching up with us, he just wants me to decide so we can go.

  GET REAL

  Ann has found the remains of a Stegosaurus, a large plant-eating dinosaur with two alternating rows of bony plates along its back.

  Scientists don’t agree exactly what the plates were for. It’s possible they helped to defend against predators, though they would only have protected a limited area. They might also have deterred enemies by making the creature seem even bigger than it was. Some researchers have also suggested that the plates helped to regulate body temperature.

  As well as its back plates, Stegosaurus is famed for having a very small brain in relation to its overall size. Despite its vast bulk, it had the same size of brain as a dog. But unlike a dog, it wouldn’t have been much use at fetching sticks or rolling over to let you rub its belly.

  Chapter 7

  -

  Return to England

  Tuesday, September 20th

  I take back everything I said about Father. He wasn’t cowering in our boarding house after all. For the past two days he’s actually been in the town’s saloon bar winning money from local miners at Three Card Monte. I asked him if he’d been using the dealing trick he taught himself, but he denied it. I don’t believe him, and it’s just as well we have to leave town tomorrow. Professor Wolf won’t be the only one trying to shoot us if the locals find out he’s cheated them.

  Father let some of the players give him their luggage instead of money. As a result, we now have enough trunk space to take almost all my finds home, and we can also afford to pay the train guards to stow them all.

  I couldn’t quite fit all the bones into our new trunks, though. I still have a skull, a tail, some ribs, six legs, and a few of those bony plates. I’ve thought of something I can do with them, but I don’t have much time, so I’ll have to leave this entry for now.

  Wednesday, September 21st

  We had to take the short trip from our boarding house to the train stop four times this morning because of all our new luggage. Our journey home will no doubt contain much more inconvenience. But it will all be worth it when I show the Geological Society my fossils.

  We waited on the far end of the platform as the train pulled in, so that the guard could show us where to store our things.

  The train chugged in, came to a stop, and the passengers stepped out. I was gazing at them when I spotted something that made my heart stop.

  A white mustache.

  Professor Wolf was there. He’d arrived a day earlier than we expected, on the very train we planned to leave on.

  I looked around for Father, but he was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t blame him for running away, but had no idea how he could have vanished so quickly.

  The lid of one of the trunks at my feet creaked open and I saw Father’s pale, terrified face inside. He pointed to the next case along and snapped the lid shut.

  Without thinking, I leaped in. I immediately regretted the one I’d picked, as it was full of tail vertebrae from the long dinosaur. At least I hadn’t bedded down in the trunk of spiky back plates.

  I lay on the knots of bone, listening to the footsteps going past and praying that Professor Wolf wouldn’t fling the lid open and draw his gun.

  Two people approached and my case was swept up. The rail porters muttered about how heavy it was as they placed it in the carriage. I wondered how they’d react when they tried to lift Father’s case. He must be twice as heavy as me.

  In the end, it took them four tries to lug it up. They were soon panting and muttering about how they don’t get paid enough to handle luggage that could break their backs.

  The rest of our trunks were piled in soon afterward, and the train pulled away. I let out a deep sigh. We’d managed to escape Professor Wolf, and now it was time to find our seats and begin the long journey home.

  I tried to push the lid of the case. Nothing happened. I tried again.

  I could hear Father’s voice above the chugging train. “I think they’ve put the other trunks on top on ours!” he shouted. “How long is it until our stop?”

  “A few hours,” I said. “I forget how long exactly.” I hadn’t forgotten. It was six hours. I had six whole hours to try and make myself comfortable on some knotty tail bones.

  The trunk grew hotter as the day wore on, and soon I was wiping sweat from my brow. I fought the urge to bang my fists against the lid and scream. I had the horrible feeling that my bad luck had struck again and I wo
uld starve or die of exhaustion inside the sweltering case.

  I told myself to snap out of it. If it hadn’t been for my silly belief in the curse, I’d have realized someone was disrupting our trip much sooner. I wasn’t cursed. I was lucky.

  Lucky to have found some amazing bones and lucky to be heading home to share them with experts. All I had to do was survive one horrible journey.

  I was about to ask Father how he was coping when I heard snoring from his trunk. Not too badly, then.

  By the time we finally arrived in Rock Spring I was so weak I couldn’t even cry for help as I waited for the station porters to reach us.

  “What’s in these?” I heard one of them ask as they lugged the box on top of mine away.

  “Bones,” said another man.

  “Nobody said anything about dead bodies,” said the first man. “They ought to pay us extra.”

  I tried to push the lid of my trunk open, but I was still too feeble. I only managed to squeeze my fingers out from underneath the lid.

  The first man gasped. “They’re coming back to life,” he whispered. “Must be some sort of voodoo magic.”

  “Don’t be dumb,” said the second man. He stepped over and threw open the top of my trunk.

  I managed to sit up, but when I tried to speak all that came out was a low moan. The men looked at each other, screamed, and ran away.

  I suppose I must have looked like a reanimated corpse with my pale skin and tired eyes, so I can understand the confusion. But grown men should know that dead bodies don’t really come back to life, so I have little sympathy.

  I’m pleased to say that after much water and rest, Father and I are now fully recovered. I’m considering reporting the cowardly porters to their superiors, but it would be too difficult to explain why we were traveling inside trunks of bones in the first place.

 

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