Затерянный мир / The Lost World. Артур Конан Дойл

and I do it.”

      One thing only was clear. He was our one link with the outside world. On no account must he leave us.

      “No, no!” he cried. “I not leave you. You always find me here. But can’t keep Indians. Too much Curupuri and they go home.”

      “Make them wait till tomorrow, Zambo,” I shouted; “then I can send letter back by them.”

      “Very good, sir! I promise they wait till tomorrow,” said the negro. “But what I do for you now?”

      First of all, under our directions, he threw one end of the rope across the chasm to us. He then fastened his end of the rope to the package of supplies which had been carried up, and we were able to drag it across. This gave us the means of life for at least a week, even if we found nothing else. Finally he descended and carried up two other packets of mixed goods – a box of ammunition and a number of other things, all of which we got across by throwing our rope to him and hauling it back. It was evening when he at last climbed down. He promised us to keep the Indians till next morning.

      And so I have spent nearly the whole of this our first night on the plateau writing up our experiences by the light of a single candle-lantern.

      We camped at the very edge of the cliff and decided not to light fire or to make any unnecessary sound.

      Tomorrow (or today because it is already dawn as I write) we shall begin to explore this strange land. Don’t know if I ever shall write again… Meanwhile, I can see that the Indians are still in their place, and I am sure that the faithful Zambo will be here to get my letter.

      P. S. The more I think the more desperate does our position seem. I see no possible hope of our return. If there were a high tree near the edge of the plateau we might drop a return bridge across, but there is none within fifty yards. The rope, of course, is far too short that we could descend by it. No, our position is hopeless… hopeless!

      Chapter 10

      The Most Wonderful Things Have Happened

      The most wonderful things have happened and are happening to us. All the paper that I possess consists of five old note-books, and I have only the one pencil. But so long as I can move my hand I will continue to write down our experiences and impressions, since we are the only men to see such things.

      On the morning after our being trapped upon the plateau by Gomez we began a new stage in our experiences. First we shifted our position to a small clearing thickly surrounded by trees. There we sat in comfort while we made our first plans for the invasion of this new country. There were no signs of life except some birds.

      Our first care was to make a list of our own stores, so that we might know what we had to rely on. With the things that Zambo had sent across on the rope, we were very well supplied. We had our four rifles and a shot-gun. In the matter of provisions we had enough to last for several weeks, with tobacco and a few scientific implements, including a large telescope and binoculars. We cut down with our knives thorny bushes, which we piled round in a circle some fifteen yards in diameter. This was to be our refuge against sudden danger and the house for our stores. Fort Challenger, we called it.

      “So long as neither man nor beast has seen or heard us, we are safe,” said Lord John. “From the time they know we are here our troubles begin. There are no signs that they have found us out as yet. We want to have a good look at our neighbours before we get on visiting terms.”

      “But we must go further,” I said.

      “By all means, my boy! We will go further. But with common sense. Above all, we must never, unless it is life or death, fire off our guns.”

      “But YOU fired yesterday,” said Summerlee.

      “Well, I had to. However, the wind was strong. It is not likely that the sound could have travelled far into the plateau. By the way, what shall we call this land?”

      “It can only have one name,” said Challenger. “It is called after the man who discovered it. It is Maple White Land.”

      So we knew that the place was inhabited by some unknown creatures, and there was that of Maple White’s sketch-book to show that more dreadful and more dangerous monsters might still appear. Our situation was clearly full of danger.

      We therefore blocked the entrance to our refuge with several thorny bushes, and left our camp following a small river. Hardly had we started our journey when we came across signs that there were indeed wonders awaiting us. We entered a region where the stream widened out. Suddenly Lord John, who was walking first, stopped.

      “Look at this!” said he. “By George, this must be the trail of the father of all birds!”

      An enormous three-toed track was imprinted in the soft mud before us. If it were indeed a bird… its foot must be enormous. Lord John looked eagerly round him.

      “The track is a fresh one,” said he, “The creature has not passed ten minutes. My God! See, here is the mark of a little one!”

      Sure enough, smaller tracks of the same general form were running parallel to the large ones.

      “But what do you make of this?” cried Professor Summerlee, pointing to what looked like the huge print of a five-fingered hand among the three-toed marks.

      “I guess I know!” cried Challenger, in an ecstasy. “It is a creature walking erect upon three-toed feet, and occasionally putting one of its five-fingered forepaws on the ground. Not a bird, my dear Roxton… not a bird.”

      “A beast?”

      “No, a reptile – a dinosaur. Nothing else could have left such a track. Who in the world could have hoped to have seen a sight like that?”

      Following the tracks, we passed through the brushwood and trees. Beyond was an open area, and there were five of the most extraordinary creatures that I have ever seen. Two being adults and three young ones. In size they were enormous. Even the babies were as big as elephants! All five were sitting up, balancing themselves upon their broad, powerful tails and their huge three-toed hind-feet, while with their small five-fingered front-feet they pulled down the branches. I do not know that I can describe their appearance to you better than by saying that they looked like monstrous kangaroos, with skins like black crocodiles.

      I do not know how long we stayed motionless gazing at this marvelous spectacle. A strong wind blew towards us and we were well concealed, so there was no chance of discovery. The strength of the parents seemed to be limitless, for one of them, having some difficulty in reaching the leaves, put his fore-legs round the trunk and tore it down. The action seemed, as I thought, to show not only the great development of its muscles, but also the small one of its brain. The tree came crashing down on the head of it. The incident made it think, apparently, that the neighbourhood was dangerous, and it slowly went through the wood, followed by its mate and its three enormous babies. Then they vanished from our sight.

      I looked at my companions. Lord John was standing next to me, his eager hunter’s soul shining from his eyes. The two professors were in silent ecstasy. In their excitement they stood like two little children in the presence of a wonder.

      “Oh my!” Sammerlee cried at last. “What will they say in England of this?”

      “My dear Summerlee, I will tell you with great confidence exactly what they will say in England,” said Challenger. “They will say that you are an infernal liar and a scientific charlatan, exactly as you and others said of me.”

      “But photographs?”

      “Faked, Summerlee! Only faked!”

      “Specimens?”

      “Things look a bit different from London,” said Lord John. “Who’s to blame them? WHAT did you say they were?”

      “Iguanodons,” said Summerlee. “You’ll find their footmarks all over the Hastings sands, in Kent, and in Sussex. The South of England was alive with them when there was plenty of leaves there. Conditions have changed, and the