CHAPTER XII
"It was Dreadful in the Forest"
I have said--or perhaps I have not said, for my memory plays me sadtricks these days--that I glowed with pride when three such men as mycomrades thanked me for having saved, or at least greatly helped, thesituation. As the youngster of the party, not merely in years, but inexperience, character, knowledge, and all that goes to make a man, Ihad been overshadowed from the first. And now I was coming into myown. I warmed at the thought. Alas! for the pride which goes before afall! That little glow of self-satisfaction, that added measure ofself-confidence, were to lead me on that very night to the mostdreadful experience of my life, ending with a shock which turns myheart sick when I think of it.
It came about in this way. I had been unduly excited by the adventureof the tree, and sleep seemed to be impossible. Summerlee was onguard, sitting hunched over our small fire, a quaint, angular figure,his rifle across his knees and his pointed, goat-like beard waggingwith each weary nod of his head. Lord John lay silent, wrapped in theSouth American poncho which he wore, while Challenger snored with aroll and rattle which reverberated through the woods. The full moonwas shining brightly, and the air was crisply cold. What a night for awalk! And then suddenly came the thought, "Why not?" Suppose I stolesoftly away, suppose I made my way down to the central lake, suppose Iwas back at breakfast with some record of the place--would I not inthat case be thought an even more worthy associate? Then, if Summerleecarried the day and some means of escape were found, we should returnto London with first-hand knowledge of the central mystery of theplateau, to which I alone, of all men, would have penetrated. I thoughtof Gladys, with her "There are heroisms all round us." I seemed to hearher voice as she said it. I thought also of McArdle. What a threecolumn article for the paper! What a foundation for a career! Acorrespondentship in the next great war might be within my reach. Iclutched at a gun--my pockets were full of cartridges--and, parting thethorn bushes at the gate of our zareba, quickly slipped out. My lastglance showed me the unconscious Summerlee, most futile of sentinels,still nodding away like a queer mechanical toy in front of thesmouldering fire.
I had not gone a hundred yards before I deeply repented my rashness. Imay have said somewhere in this chronicle that I am too imaginative tobe a really courageous man, but that I have an overpowering fear ofseeming afraid. This was the power which now carried me onwards. Isimply could not slink back with nothing done. Even if my comradesshould not have missed me, and should never know of my weakness, therewould still remain some intolerable self-shame in my own soul. And yetI shuddered at the position in which I found myself, and would havegiven all I possessed at that moment to have been honorably free of thewhole business.
It was dreadful in the forest. The trees grew so thickly and theirfoliage spread so widely that I could see nothing of the moon-lightsave that here and there the high branches made a tangled filigreeagainst the starry sky. As the eyes became more used to the obscurityone learned that there were different degrees of darkness among thetrees--that some were dimly visible, while between and among them therewere coal-black shadowed patches, like the mouths of caves, from whichI shrank in horror as I passed. I thought of the despairing yell ofthe tortured iguanodon--that dreadful cry which had echoed through thewoods. I thought, too, of the glimpse I had in the light of LordJohn's torch of that bloated, warty, blood-slavering muzzle. Even nowI was on its hunting-ground. At any instant it might spring upon mefrom the shadows--this nameless and horrible monster. I stopped, and,picking a cartridge from my pocket, I opened the breech of my gun. AsI touched the lever my heart leaped within me. It was the shot-gun,not the rifle, which I had taken!
Again the impulse to return swept over me. Here, surely, was a mostexcellent reason for my failure--one for which no one would think theless of me. But again the foolish pride fought against that very word.I could not--must not--fail. After all, my rifle would probably havebeen as useless as a shot-gun against such dangers as I might meet. IfI were to go back to camp to change my weapon I could hardly expect toenter and to leave again without being seen. In that case there wouldbe explanations, and my attempt would no longer be all my own. After alittle hesitation, then, I screwed up my courage and continued upon myway, my useless gun under my arm.
The darkness of the forest had been alarming, but even worse was thewhite, still flood of moonlight in the open glade of the iguanodons.Hid among the bushes, I looked out at it. None of the great bruteswere in sight. Perhaps the tragedy which had befallen one of them haddriven them from their feeding-ground. In the misty, silvery night Icould see no sign of any living thing. Taking courage, therefore, Islipped rapidly across it, and among the jungle on the farther side Ipicked up once again the brook which was my guide. It was a cheerycompanion, gurgling and chuckling as it ran, like the dear oldtrout-stream in the West Country where I have fished at night in myboyhood. So long as I followed it down I must come to the lake, and solong as I followed it back I must come to the camp. Often I had tolose sight of it on account of the tangled brush-wood, but I was alwayswithin earshot of its tinkle and splash.
As one descended the slope the woods became thinner, and bushes, withoccasional high trees, took the place of the forest. I could make goodprogress, therefore, and I could see without being seen. I passedclose to the pterodactyl swamp, and as I did so, with a dry, crisp,leathery rattle of wings, one of these great creatures--it was twentyfeet at least from tip to tip--rose up from somewhere near me andsoared into the air. As it passed across the face of the moon thelight shone clearly through the membranous wings, and it looked like aflying skeleton against the white, tropical radiance. I crouched lowamong the bushes, for I knew from past experience that with a singlecry the creature could bring a hundred of its loathsome mates about myears. It was not until it had settled again that I dared to stealonwards upon my journey.
The night had been exceedingly still, but as I advanced I becameconscious of a low, rumbling sound, a continuous murmur, somewhere infront of me. This grew louder as I proceeded, until at last it wasclearly 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 aboiling kettle or the bubbling of some great pot. Soon I came upon thesource of it, for in the center of a small clearing I found a lake--ora pool, rather, for it was not larger than the basin of the TrafalgarSquare fountain--of some black, pitch-like stuff, the surface of whichrose and fell in great blisters of bursting gas. The air above it wasshimmering with heat, and the ground round was so hot that I couldhardly bear to lay my hand on it. It was clear that the great volcanicoutburst which had raised this strange plateau so many years ago hadnot yet entirely spent its forces. Blackened rocks and mounds of lavaI had already seen everywhere peeping out from amid the luxuriantvegetation which draped them, but this asphalt pool in the jungle wasthe first sign that we had of actual existing activity on the slopes ofthe ancient crater. I had no time to examine it further for I had needto hurry if I were to be back in camp in the morning.
It was a fearsome walk, and one which will be with me so long as memoryholds. In the great moonlight clearings I slunk along among theshadows on the margin. In the jungle I crept forward, stopping with abeating heart whenever I heard, as I often did, the crash of breakingbranches as some wild beast went past. Now and then great shadowsloomed up for an instant and were gone--great, silent shadows whichseemed to prowl upon padded feet. How often I stopped with theintention of returning, and yet every time my pride conquered my fear,and sent me on again until my object should be attained.
At last (my watch showed that it was one in the morning) I saw thegleam of water amid the openings of the jungle, and ten minutes later Iwas among the reeds upon the borders of the central lake. I wasexceedingly 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 tracksupon it at the spot which
I had found, so that it was clearly one ofthe drinking-places of the animals. Close to the water's edge therewas a huge isolated block of lava. Up this I climbed, and, lying onthe top, I had an excellent view in every direction.
The first thing which I saw filled me with amazement. When I describedthe view from the summit of the great tree, I said that on the farthercliff I could see a number of dark spots, which appeared to be themouths of caves. Now, as I looked up at the same cliffs, I saw discsof light in every direction, ruddy, clearly-defined patches, like theport-holes of a liner in the darkness. For a moment I thought it wasthe lava-glow from some volcanic action; but this could not be so. Anyvolcanic action would surely be down in the hollow and not high amongthe rocks. What, then, was the alternative? It was wonderful, and yetit must surely be. These ruddy spots must be the reflection of fireswithin the caves--fires which could only be lit by the hand of man.There were human beings, then, upon the plateau. How gloriously myexpedition was justified! Here was news indeed for us to bear backwith us to London!
For a long time I lay and watched these red, quivering blotches oflight. I suppose they were ten miles off from me, yet even at thatdistance one could observe how, from time to time, they twinkled orwere obscured as someone passed before them. What would I not havegiven to be able to crawl up to them, to peep in, and to take back someword to my comrades as to the appearance and character of the race wholived in so strange a place! It was out of the question for themoment, and yet surely we could not leave the plateau until we had somedefinite knowledge upon the point.
Lake Gladys--my own lake--lay like a sheet of quicksilver before me,with a reflected moon shining brightly in the center of it. It wasshallow, for in many places I saw low sandbanks protruding above thewater. Everywhere upon the still surface I could see signs of life,sometimes mere rings and ripples in the water, sometimes the gleam of agreat silver-sided fish in the air, sometimes the arched, slate-coloredback of some passing monster. Once upon a yellow sandbank I saw acreature like a huge swan, with a clumsy body and a high, flexibleneck, shuffling about upon the margin. Presently it plunged in, andfor some time I could see the arched neck and darting head undulatingover the water. Then it dived, and I saw it no more.
My attention was soon drawn away from these distant sights and broughtback to what was going on at my very feet. Two creatures like largearmadillos had come down to the drinking-place, and were squatting atthe edge of the water, their long, flexible tongues like red ribbonsshooting in and out as they lapped. A huge deer, with branching horns,a magnificent creature which carried itself like a king, came down withits doe and two fawns and drank beside the armadillos. No such deerexist anywhere else upon earth, for the moose or elks which I have seenwould hardly have reached its shoulders. Presently it gave a warningsnort, and was off with its family among the reeds, while thearmadillos also scuttled for shelter. A new-comer, a most monstrousanimal, 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 strangebird-like head held close to the ground. Then it came back, to me. Itwas the stegosaurus--the very creature which Maple White had preservedin his sketch-book, and which had been the first object which arrestedthe attention of Challenger! There he was--perhaps the very specimenwhich the American artist had encountered. The ground shook beneathhis tremendous weight, and his gulpings of water resounded through thestill night. For five minutes he was so close to my rock that bystretching out my hand I could have touched the hideous waving hacklesupon his back. Then he lumbered away and was lost among the boulders.
Looking at my watch, I saw that it was half-past two o'clock, and hightime, therefore, that I started upon my homeward journey. There was nodifficulty about the direction in which I should return for all along Ihad kept the little brook upon my left, and it opened into the centrallake 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 goodwork 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 thecertainty that some troglodytic race inhabited them. But besides thatI could speak from experience of the central lake. I could testifythat it was full of strange creatures, and I had seen several landforms of primeval life which we had not before encountered. Ireflected as I walked that few men in the world could have spent astranger night or added more to human knowledge in the course of it.
I was plodding up the slope, turning these thoughts over in my mind,and had reached a point which may have been half-way to home, when mymind was brought back to my own position by a strange noise behind me.It was something between a snore and a growl, low, deep, andexceedingly menacing. Some strange creature was evidently near me, butnothing could be seen, so I hastened more rapidly upon my way. I hadtraversed half a mile or so when suddenly the sound was repeated, stillbehind me, but louder and more menacing than before. My heart stoodstill within me as it flashed across me that the beast, whatever itwas, must surely be after ME. My skin grew cold and my hair rose atthe thought. That these monsters should tear each other to pieces wasa part of the strange struggle for existence, but that they should turnupon modern man, that they should deliberately track and hunt down thepredominant human, was a staggering and fearsome thought. I rememberedagain the blood-beslobbered face which we had seen in the glare of LordJohn's torch, like some horrible vision from the deepest circle ofDante's hell. With my knees shaking beneath me, I stood and glaredwith starting eyes down the moonlit path which lay behind me. All wasquiet as in a dream landscape. Silver clearings and the black patchesof the bushes--nothing else could I see. Then from out of the silence,imminent and threatening, there came once more that low, throatycroaking, far louder and closer than before. There could no longer bea doubt. Something was on my trail, and was closing in upon me everyminute.
I stood like a man paralyzed, still staring at the ground which I hadtraversed. Then suddenly I saw it. There was movement among thebushes at the far end of the clearing which I had just traversed. Agreat dark shadow disengaged itself and hopped out into the clearmoonlight. I say "hopped" advisedly, for the beast moved like akangaroo, springing along in an erect position upon its powerful hindlegs, while its front ones were held bent in front of it. It was ofenormous size and power, like an erect elephant, but its movements, inspite of its bulk, were exceedingly alert. For a moment, as I saw itsshape, 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 differentcreature. Instead of the gentle, deer-shaped head of the greatthree-toed leaf-eater, this beast had a broad, squat, toad-like facelike that which had alarmed us in our camp. His ferocious cry and thehorrible energy of his pursuit both assured me that this was surely oneof the great flesh-eating dinosaurs, the most terrible beasts whichhave ever walked this earth. As the huge brute loped along it droppedforward upon its fore-paws and brought its nose to the ground everytwenty yards or so. It was smelling out my trail. Sometimes, for aninstant, it was at fault. Then it would catch it up again and comebounding swiftly along the path I had taken.
Even now when I think of that nightmare the sweat breaks out upon mybrow. What could I do? My useless fowling-piece was in my hand. Whathelp could I get from that? I looked desperately round for some rockor tree, but I was in a bushy jungle with nothing higher than a saplingwithin sight, while I knew that the creature behind me could tear downan ordinary tree as though it were a reed. My only possible chance layin flight. I could not move swiftly over the rough, broken ground, butas I looked round me in despair I saw a well-marked, hard-beaten pathwhich ran across in front of me. We had seen several of the sort, theruns of various wild beasts, during our expeditions. Along this Icould perhaps hold my own, for I was a fast runner, and in excellentcondition. Flinging away my useless gun, I set myself to do such ahalf-mile as I have never done before or since.
My limbs ached, mychest heaved, I felt that my throat would burst for want of air, andyet with that horror behind me I ran and I ran and ran. At last Ipaused, hardly able to move. For a moment I thought that I had thrownhim off. The path lay still behind me. And then suddenly, with acrashing and a rending, a thudding of giant feet and a panting ofmonster lungs the beast was upon me once more. He was at my veryheels. I was lost.
Madman that I was to linger so long before I fled! Up to then he hadhunted by scent, and his movement was slow. But he had actually seenme as I started to run. From then onwards he had hunted by sight, forthe 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 hugeprojecting eyes, the row of enormous teeth in his open mouth, and thegleaming fringe of claws upon his short, powerful forearms. With ascream of terror I turned and rushed wildly down the path. Behind methe thick, gasping breathing of the creature sounded louder and louder.His heavy footfall was beside me. Every instant I expected to feel hisgrip upon my back. And then suddenly there came a crash--I was fallingthrough space, and everything beyond was darkness and rest.
As I emerged from my unconsciousness--which could not, I think, havelasted more than a few minutes--I was aware of a most dreadful andpenetrating smell. Putting out my hand in the darkness I came uponsomething which felt like a huge lump of meat, while my other handclosed upon a large bone. Up above me there was a circle of starlitsky, 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 stiffand 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 cameback into my confused brain, I looked up in terror, expecting to seethat dreadful head silhouetted against the paling sky. There was nosign of the monster, however, nor could I hear any sound from above. Ibegan to walk slowly round, therefore, feeling in every direction tofind out what this strange place could be into which I had been soopportunely precipitated.
It was, as I have said, a pit, with sharply-sloping walls and a levelbottom about twenty feet across. This bottom was littered with greatgobbets of flesh, most of which was in the last state of putridity.The atmosphere was poisonous and horrible. After tripping andstumbling over these lumps of decay, I came suddenly against somethinghard, and I found that an upright post was firmly fixed in the centerof the hollow. It was so high that I could not reach the top of itwith my hand, and it appeared to be covered with grease.
Suddenly I remembered that I had a tin box of wax-vestas in my pocket.Striking one of them, I was able at last to form some opinion of thisplace into which I had fallen. There could be no question as to itsnature. It was a trap--made by the hand of man. The post in thecenter, some nine feet long, was sharpened at the upper end, and wasblack with the stale blood of the creatures who had been impaled uponit. The remains scattered about were fragments of the victims, whichhad been cut away in order to clear the stake for the next who mightblunder in. I remembered that Challenger had declared that man couldnot exist upon the plateau, since with his feeble weapons he could nothold his own against the monsters who roamed over it. But now it wasclear enough how it could be done. In their narrow-mouthed caves thenatives, whoever they might be, had refuges into which the hugesaurians could not penetrate, while with their developed brains theywere capable of setting such traps, covered with branches, across thepaths which marked the run of the animals as would destroy them inspite of all their strength and activity. Man was always the master.
The sloping wall of the pit was not difficult for an active man toclimb, but I hesitated long before I trusted myself within reach of thedreadful creature which had so nearly destroyed me. How did I knowthat he was not lurking in the nearest clump of bushes, waiting for myreappearance? I took heart, however, as I recalled a conversationbetween Challenger and Summerlee upon the habits of the great saurians.Both were agreed that the monsters were practically brainless, thatthere was no room for reason in their tiny cranial cavities, and thatif they have disappeared from the rest of the world it was assuredly onaccount of their own stupidity, which made it impossible for them toadapt themselves to changing conditions.
To lie in wait for me now would mean that the creature had appreciatedwhat had happened to me, and this in turn would argue some powerconnecting cause and effect. Surely it was more likely that abrainless creature, acting solely by vague predatory instinct, wouldgive up the chase when I disappeared, and, after a pause ofastonishment, would wander away in search of some other prey? Iclambered to the edge of the pit and looked over. The stars werefading, the sky was whitening, and the cold wind of morning blewpleasantly 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 tospring back into my refuge if any danger should appear. Then,reassured by the absolute stillness and by the growing light, I took mycourage 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 struckthe brook which was my guide. So, with many a frightened backwardglance, I made for home.
And suddenly there came something to remind me of my absent companions.In the clear, still morning air there sounded far away the sharp, hardnote of a single rifle-shot. I paused and listened, but there wasnothing more. For a moment I was shocked at the thought that somesudden danger might have befallen them. But then a simpler and morenatural explanation came to my mind. It was now broad daylight. Nodoubt my absence had been noticed. They had imagined, that I was lostin the woods, and had fired this shot to guide me home. It is truethat we had made a strict resolution against firing, but if it seemedto them that I might be in danger they would not hesitate. It was forme now to hurry on as fast as possible, and so to reassure them.
I was weary and spent, so my progress was not so fast as I wished; butat last I came into regions which I knew. There was the swamp of thepterodactyls upon my left; there in front of me was the glade of theiguanodons. Now I was in the last belt of trees which separated mefrom Fort Challenger. I raised my voice in a cheery shout to allaytheir fears. No answering greeting came back to me. My heart sank atthat ominous stillness. I quickened my pace into a run. The zarebarose before me, even as I had left it, but the gate was open. I rushedin. In the cold, morning light it was a fearful sight which met myeyes. Our effects were scattered in wild confusion over the ground; mycomrades had disappeared, and close to the smouldering ashes of ourfire the grass was stained crimson with a hideous pool of blood.
I was so stunned by this sudden shock that for a time I must havenearly lost my reason. I have a vague recollection, as one remembers abad dream, of rushing about through the woods all round the empty camp,calling wildly for my companions. No answer came back from the silentshadows. The horrible thought that I might never see them again, thatI might find myself abandoned all alone in that dreadful place, with nopossible way of descending into the world below, that I might live anddie in that nightmare country, drove me to desperation. I could havetorn my hair and beaten my head in my despair. Only now did I realizehow I had learned to lean upon my companions, upon the sereneself-confidence of Challenger, and upon the masterful, humorouscoolness of Lord John Roxton. Without them I was like a child in thedark, helpless and powerless. I did not know which way to turn or whatI should do first.
After a period, during which I sat in bewilderment, I set myself to tryand discover what sudden misfortune could have befallen my companions.The whole disordered appearance of the camp showed that there had beensome sort of attack, and the rifle-shot no doubt marked the time whenit had occurred. That there should have been only one shot showed thatit had been all over in an instant. The rifles still lay upon theground, and one of them--Lord John's--had the empty cartridge in thebreech. The blankets of Challenger and of Summerlee beside the firesuggested that they had been asleep at the time. The cases ofammunition and of food were scattered about in a
wild litter, togetherwith our unfortunate cameras and plate-carriers, but none of them weremissing. On the other hand, all the exposed provisions--and Iremembered that there were a considerable quantity of them--were gone.They were animals, then, and not natives, who had made the inroad, forsurely the latter would have left nothing behind.
But if animals, or some single terrible animal, then what had become ofmy comrades? A ferocious beast would surely have destroyed them andleft their remains. It is true that there was that one hideous pool ofblood, which told of violence. Such a monster as had pursued me duringthe night could have carried away a victim as easily as a cat would amouse. In that case the others would have followed in pursuit. Butthen they would assuredly have taken their rifles with them. The moreI tried to think it out with my confused and weary brain the less couldI find any plausible explanation. I searched round in the forest, butcould see no tracks which could help me to a conclusion. Once I lostmyself, and it was only by good luck, and after an hour of wandering,that I found the camp once more.
Suddenly a thought came to me and brought some little comfort to myheart. I was not absolutely alone in the world. Down at the bottom ofthe cliff, and within call of me, was waiting the faithful Zambo. Iwent to the edge of the plateau and looked over. Sure enough, he wassquatting among his blankets beside his fire in his little camp. But,to my amazement, a second man was seated in front of him. For aninstant my heart leaped for joy, as I thought that one of my comradeshad 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. Ishouted loudly and waved my handkerchief. Presently Zambo looked up,waved his hand, and turned to ascend the pinnacle. In a short time hewas standing close to me and listening with deep distress to the storywhich I told him.
"Devil got them for sure, Massa Malone," said he. "You got into thedevil's country, sah, and he take you all to himself. You take advice,Massa Malone, and come down quick, else he get you as well."
"How can I come down, Zambo?"
"You get creepers from trees, Massa Malone. Throw them over here. Imake fast to this stump, and so you have bridge."
"We have thought of that. There are no creepers here which could bearus."
"Send for ropes, Massa Malone."
"Who can I send, and where?"
"Send to Indian villages, sah. Plenty hide rope in Indian village.Indian down below; send him."
"Who is he?
"One of our Indians. Other ones beat him and take away his pay. Hecome back to us. Ready now to take letter, bring rope,--anything."
To take a letter! Why not? Perhaps he might bring help; but in anycase he would ensure that our lives were not spent for nothing, andthat news of all that we had won for Science should reach our friendsat home. I had two completed letters already waiting. I would spendthe day in writing a third, which would bring my experiences absolutelyup to date. The Indian could bear this back to the world. I orderedZambo, therefore, to come again in the evening, and I spent mymiserable and lonely day in recording my own adventures of the nightbefore. I also drew up a note, to be given to any white merchant orcaptain of a steam-boat whom the Indian could find, imploring them tosee 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 tothe Indian, and he was promised twice as much if he returned with theropes.
So now you will understand, my dear Mr. McArdle, how this communicationreaches you, and you will also know the truth, in case you never hearagain from your unfortunate correspondent. To-night I am too weary andtoo depressed to make my plans. To-morrow I must think out some way bywhich I shall keep in touch with this camp, and yet search round forany traces of my unhappy friends.
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