CHAPTER XII

"It was Dreadful in the Forest"

I have said--or perhaps I have not said, for my memory plays me sad

tricks these days--that I glowed with pride when three such men as my

comrades thanked me for having saved, or at least greatly helped, the

situation. As the youngster of the party, not merely in years, but in

experience, character, knowledge, and all that goes to make a man, I

had been overshadowed from the first. And now I was coming into my

own. I warmed at the thought. Alas! for the pride which goes before a

fall! That little glow of self-satisfaction, that added measure of

self-confidence, were to lead me on that very night to the most

dreadful experience of my life, ending with a shock which turns my

heart sick when I think of it.

It came about in this way. I had been unduly excited by the adventure

of the tree, and sleep seemed to be impossible. Summerlee was on

guard, sitting hunched over our small fire, a quaint, angular figure,

his rifle across his knees and his pointed, goat-like beard wagging

with each weary nod of his head. Lord John lay silent, wrapped in the

South American poncho which he wore, while Challenger snored with a

roll and rattle which reverberated through the woods. The full moon

was shining brightly, and the air was crisply cold. What a night for a

walk! And then suddenly came the thought, "Why not?" Suppose I stole

softly away, suppose I made my way down to the central lake, suppose I

was back at breakfast with some record of the place--would I not in

that case be thought an even more worthy associate? Then, if Summerlee

carried the day and some means of escape were found, we should return

to London with first-hand knowledge of the central mystery of the

plateau, to which I alone, of all men, would have penetrated. I thought

of Gladys, with her "There are heroisms all round us." I seemed to hear

her voice as she said it. I thought also of McArdle. What a three

column article for the paper! What a foundation for a career! A

correspondentship in the next great war might be within my reach. I

clutched at a gun--my pockets were full of cartridges--and, parting the

thorn bushes at the gate of our zareba, quickly slipped out. My last

glance showed me the unconscious Summerlee, most futile of sentinels,

still nodding away like a queer mechanical toy in front of the

smouldering fire.

I had not gone a hundred yards before I deeply repented my rashness. I

may have said somewhere in this chronicle that I am too imaginative to

be a really courageous man, but that I have an overpowering fear of

seeming afraid. This was the power which now carried me onwards. I

simply could not slink back with nothing done. Even if my comrades

should not have missed me, and should never know of my weakness, there

would still remain some intolerable self-shame in my own soul. And yet

I shuddered at the position in which I found myself, and would have

given all I possessed at that moment to have been honorably free of the

whole business.

It was dreadful in the forest. The trees grew so thickly and their

foliage spread so widely that I could see nothing of the moon-light

save that here and there the high branches made a tangled filigree

against the starry sky. As the eyes became more used to the obscurity

one learned that there were different degrees of darkness among the

trees--that some were dimly visible, while between and among them there

were coal-black shadowed patches, like the mouths of caves, from which

I shrank in horror as I passed. I thought of the despairing yell of

the tortured iguanodon--that dreadful cry which had echoed through the

woods. I thought, too, of the glimpse I had in the light of Lord

John's torch of that bloated, warty, blood-slavering muzzle. Even now

I was on its hunting-ground. At any instant it might spring upon me

from the shadows--this nameless and horrible monster. I stopped, and,

picking a cartridge from my pocket, I opened the breech of my gun. As

I 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 most

excellent reason for my failure--one for which no one would think the

less of me. But again the foolish pride fought against that very word.

I could not--must not--fail. After all, my rifle would probably have

been as useless as a shot-gun against such dangers as I might meet. If

I were to go back to camp to change my weapon I could hardly expect to

enter and to leave again without being seen. In that case there would

be explanations, and my attempt would no longer be all my own. After a

little hesitation, then, I screwed up my courage and continued upon my

way, my useless gun under my arm.

The darkness of the forest had been alarming, but even worse was the

white, still flood of moonlight in the open glade of the iguanodons.

Hid among the bushes, I looked out at it. None of the great brutes

were in sight. Perhaps the tragedy which had befallen one of them had

driven them from their feeding-ground. In the misty, silvery night I

could see no sign of any living thing. Taking courage, therefore, I

slipped rapidly across it, and among the jungle on the farther side I

picked up once again the brook which was my guide. It was a cheery

companion, gurgling and chuckling as it ran, like the dear old

trout-stream in the West Country where I have fished at night in my

boyhood. So long as I followed it down I must come to the lake, and so

long as I followed it back I must come to the camp. Often I had to

lose sight of it on account of the tangled brush-wood, but I was always

within earshot of its tinkle and splash.

As one descended the slope the woods became thinner, and bushes, with

occasional high trees, took the place of the forest. I could make good

progress, therefore, and I could see without being seen. I passed

close to the pterodactyl swamp, and as I did so, with a dry, crisp,

leathery rattle of wings, one of these great creatures--it was twenty

feet at least from tip to tip--rose up from somewhere near me and

soared into the air. As it passed across the face of the moon the

light shone clearly through the membranous wings, and it looked like a

flying skeleton against the white, tropical radiance. I crouched low

among the bushes, for I knew from past experience that with a single

cry the creature could bring a hundred of its loathsome mates about my

ears. It was not until it had settled again that I dared to steal

onwards upon my journey.

The night had been exceedingly still, but as I advanced I became

conscious of a low, rumbling sound, a continuous murmur, somewhere in

front of me. This grew louder as I proceeded, until at last it was

clearly 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 a

boiling kettle or the bubbling of some great pot. Soon I came upon the

source of it, for in the center of a small clearing I found a lake--or

a pool, rather, for it was not larger than the basin of the Trafalgar

Square fountain--of some black, pitch-like stuff, the surface of which

rose and fell in great blisters of bursting gas. The air above it was

shimmering with heat, and the ground round was so hot that I could

hardly bear to lay my hand on it. It was clear that the great volcanic

outburst which had raised this strange plateau so many years ago had

not yet entirely spent its forces. Blackened rocks and mounds of lava

I had already seen everywhere peeping out from amid the luxuriant

vegetation which draped them, but this asphalt pool in the jungle was

the first sign that we had of actual existing activity on the slopes of

the ancient crater. I had no time to examine it further for I had need

to 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 memory

holds. In the great moonlight clearings I slunk along among the

shadows on the margin. In the jungle I crept forward, stopping with a

beating heart whenever I heard, as I often did, the crash of breaking

branches as some wild beast went past. Now and then great shadows

loomed up for an instant and were gone--great, silent shadows which

seemed to prowl upon padded feet. How often I stopped with the

intention 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 the

gleam of water amid the openings of the jungle, and ten minutes later I

was among the reeds upon the borders of the central lake. I was

exceedingly 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 tracks

upon it at the spot which I had found, so that it was clearly one of

the drinking-places of the animals. Close to the water's edge there

was a huge isolated block of lava. Up this I climbed, and, lying on

the top, I had an excellent view in every direction.

The first thing which I saw filled me with amazement. When I described

the view from the summit of the great tree, I said that on the farther

cliff I could see a number of dark spots, which appeared to be the

mouths of caves. Now, as I looked up at the same cliffs, I saw discs

of light in every direction, ruddy, clearly-defined patches, like the

port-holes of a liner in the darkness. For a moment I thought it was

the lava-glow from some volcanic action; but this could not be so. Any

volcanic action would surely be down in the hollow and not high among

the rocks. What, then, was the alternative? It was wonderful, and yet

it must surely be. These ruddy spots must be the reflection of fires

within the caves--fires which could only be lit by the hand of man.

There were human beings, then, upon the plateau. How gloriously my

expedition was justified! Here was news indeed for us to bear back

with us to London!

For a long time I lay and watched these red, quivering blotches of

light. I suppose they were ten miles off from me, yet even at that

distance one could observe how, from time to time, they twinkled or

were obscured as someone passed before them. What would I not have

given to be able to crawl up to them, to peep in, and to take back some

word to my comrades as to the appearance and character of the race who

lived in so strange a place! It was out of the question for the

moment, and yet surely we could not leave the plateau until we had some

definite 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 was

shallow, for in many places I saw low sandbanks protruding above the

water. Everywhere upon the still surface I could see signs of life,

sometimes mere rings and ripples in the water, sometimes the gleam of a

great silver-sided fish in the air, sometimes the arched, slate-colored

back of some passing monster. Once upon a yellow sandbank I saw a

creature like a huge swan, with a clumsy body and a high, flexible

neck, shuffling about upon the margin. Presently it plunged in, and

for some time I could see the arched neck and darting head undulating

over the water. Then it dived, and I saw it no more.

My attention was soon drawn away from these distant sights and brought

back to what was going on at my very feet. Two creatures like large

armadillos had come down to the drinking-place, and were squatting at

the edge of the water, their long, flexible tongues like red ribbons

shooting in and out as they lapped. A huge deer, with branching horns,

a magnificent creature which carried itself like a king, came down with

its doe and two fawns and drank beside the armadillos. No such deer

exist anywhere else upon earth, for the moose or elks which I have seen

would hardly have reached its shoulders. Presently it gave a warning

snort, and was off with its family among the reeds, while the

armadillos also scuttled for shelter. A new-comer, a most monstrous

animal, 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 strange

bird-like head held close to the ground. Then it came back, to me. It

was the stegosaurus--the very creature which Maple White had preserved

in his sketch-book, and which had been the first object which arrested

the attention of Challenger! There he was--perhaps the very specimen

which the American artist had encountered. The ground shook beneath

his tremendous weight, and his gulpings of water resounded through the

still night. For five minutes he was so close to my rock that by

stretching out my hand I could have touched the hideous waving hackles

upon 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 high

time, therefore, that I started upon my homeward journey. There was no

difficulty about the direction in which I should return for all along I

had kept the little brook upon my left, and it opened into the central

lake 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 good

work 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 the

certainty that some troglodytic race inhabited them. But besides that

I could speak from experience of the central lake. I could testify

that it was full of strange creatures, and I had seen several land

forms of primeval life which we had not before encountered. I

reflected as I walked that few men in the world could have spent a

stranger 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 my

mind was brought back to my own position by a strange noise behind me.

It was something between a snore and a growl, low, deep, and

exceedingly menacing. Some strange creature was evidently near me, but

nothing could be seen, so I hastened more rapidly upon my way. I had

traversed half a mile or so when suddenly the sound was repeated, still

behind me, but louder and more menacing than before. My heart stood

still within me as it flashed across me that the beast, whatever it

was, must surely be after ME. My skin grew cold and my hair rose at

the thought. That these monsters should tear each other to pieces was

a part of the strange struggle for existence, but that they should turn

upon modern man, that they should deliberately track and hunt down the

predominant human, was a staggering and fearsome thought. I remembered

again the blood-beslobbered face which we had seen in the glare of Lord

John's torch, like some horrible vision from the deepest circle of

Dante's hell. With my knees shaking beneath me, I stood and glared

with starting eyes down the moonlit path which lay behind me. All was

quiet as in a dream landscape. Silver clearings and the black patches

of the bushes--nothing else could I see. Then from out of the silence,

imminent and threatening, there came once more that low, throaty

croaking, far louder and closer than before. There could no longer be

a doubt. Something was on my trail, and was closing in upon me every

minute.

I stood like a man paralyzed, still staring at the ground which I had

traversed. Then suddenly I saw it. There was movement among the

bushes at the far end of the clearing which I had just traversed. A

great dark shadow disengaged itself and hopped out into the clear

moonlight. I say "hopped" advisedly, for the beast moved like a

kangaroo, springing along in an erect position upon its powerful hind

legs, while its front ones were held bent in front of it. It was of

enormous size and power, like an erect elephant, but its movements, in

spite of its bulk, were exceedingly alert. For a moment, as I saw its

shape, 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 different

creature. Instead of the gentle, deer-shaped head of the great

three-toed leaf-eater, this beast had a broad, squat, toad-like face

like that which had alarmed us in our camp. His ferocious cry and the

horrible energy of his pursuit both assured me that this was surely one

of the great flesh-eating dinosaurs, the most terrible beasts which

have ever walked this earth. As the huge brute loped along it dropped

forward upon its fore-paws and brought its nose to the ground every

twenty yards or so. It was smelling out my trail. Sometimes, for an

instant, it was at fault. Then it would catch it up again and come

bounding swiftly along the path I had taken.

Even now when I think of that nightmare the sweat breaks out upon my

brow. What could I do? My useless fowling-piece was in my hand. What

help could I get from that? I looked desperately round for some rock

or tree, but I was in a bushy jungle with nothing higher than a sapling

within sight, while I knew that the creature behind me could tear down

an ordinary tree as though it were a reed. My only possible chance lay

in flight. I could not move swiftly over the rough, broken ground, but

as I looked round me in despair I saw a well-marked, hard-beaten path

which ran across in front of me. We had seen several of the sort, the

runs of various wild beasts, during our expeditions. Along this I

could perhaps hold my own, for I was a fast runner, and in excellent

condition. Flinging away my useless gun, I set myself to do such a

half-mile as I have never done before or since. My limbs ached, my

chest heaved, I felt that my throat would burst for want of air, and

yet with that horror behind me I ran and I ran and ran. At last I

paused, hardly able to move. For a moment I thought that I had thrown

him off. The path lay still behind me. And then suddenly, with a

crashing and a rending, a thudding of giant feet and a panting of

monster lungs the beast was upon me once more. He was at my very

heels. I was lost.

Madman that I was to linger so long before I fled! Up to then he had

hunted by scent, and his movement was slow. But he had actually seen

me as I started to run. From then onwards he had hunted by sight, for

the 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 huge

projecting eyes, the row of enormous teeth in his open mouth, and the

gleaming fringe of claws upon his short, powerful forearms. With a

scream of terror I turned and rushed wildly down the path. Behind me

the thick, gasping breathing of the creature sounded louder and louder.

His heavy footfall was beside me. Every instant I expected to feel his

grip upon my back. And then suddenly there came a crash--I was falling

through space, and everything beyond was darkness and rest.

As I emerged from my unconsciousness--which could not, I think, have

lasted more than a few minutes--I was aware of a most dreadful and

penetrating smell. Putting out my hand in the darkness I came upon

something which felt like a huge lump of meat, while my other hand

closed upon a large bone. Up above me there was a circle of starlit

sky, 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 stiff

and 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 came

back into my confused brain, I looked up in terror, expecting to see

that dreadful head silhouetted against the paling sky. There was no

sign of the monster, however, nor could I hear any sound from above. I

began to walk slowly round, therefore, feeling in every direction to

find out what this strange place could be into which I had been so

opportunely precipitated.

It was, as I have said, a pit, with sharply-sloping walls and a level

bottom about twenty feet across. This bottom was littered with great

gobbets of flesh, most of which was in the last state of putridity.

The atmosphere was poisonous and horrible. After tripping and

stumbling over these lumps of decay, I came suddenly against something

hard, and I found that an upright post was firmly fixed in the center

of the hollow. It was so high that I could not reach the top of it

with 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 this

place into which I had fallen. There could be no question as to its

nature. It was a trap--made by the hand of man. The post in the

center, some nine feet long, was sharpened at the upper end, and was

black with the stale blood of the creatures who had been impaled upon

it. The remains scattered about were fragments of the victims, which

had been cut away in order to clear the stake for the next who might

blunder in. I remembered that Challenger had declared that man could

not exist upon the plateau, since with his feeble weapons he could not

hold his own against the monsters who roamed over it. But now it was

clear enough how it could be done. In their narrow-mouthed caves the

natives, whoever they might be, had refuges into which the huge

saurians could not penetrate, while with their developed brains they

were capable of setting such traps, covered with branches, across the

paths which marked the run of the animals as would destroy them in

spite of all their strength and activity. Man was always the master.

The sloping wall of the pit was not difficult for an active man to

climb, but I hesitated long before I trusted myself within reach of the

dreadful creature which had so nearly destroyed me. How did I know

that he was not lurking in the nearest clump of bushes, waiting for my

reappearance? I took heart, however, as I recalled a conversation

between Challenger and Summerlee upon the habits of the great saurians.

Both were agreed that the monsters were practically brainless, that

there was no room for reason in their tiny cranial cavities, and that

if they have disappeared from the rest of the world it was assuredly on

account of their own stupidity, which made it impossible for them to

adapt themselves to changing conditions.

To lie in wait for me now would mean that the creature had appreciated

what had happened to me, and this in turn would argue some power

connecting cause and effect. Surely it was more likely that a

brainless creature, acting solely by vague predatory instinct, would

give up the chase when I disappeared, and, after a pause of

astonishment, would wander away in search of some other prey? I

clambered to the edge of the pit and looked over. The stars were

fading, the sky was whitening, and the cold wind of morning blew

pleasantly 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 to

spring back into my refuge if any danger should appear. Then,

reassured by the absolute stillness and by the growing light, I took my

courage 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 struck

the brook which was my guide. So, with many a frightened backward

glance, 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, hard

note of a single rifle-shot. I paused and listened, but there was

nothing more. For a moment I was shocked at the thought that some

sudden danger might have befallen them. But then a simpler and more

natural explanation came to my mind. It was now broad daylight. No

doubt my absence had been noticed. They had imagined, that I was lost

in the woods, and had fired this shot to guide me home. It is true

that we had made a strict resolution against firing, but if it seemed

to them that I might be in danger they would not hesitate. It was for

me 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; but

at last I came into regions which I knew. There was the swamp of the

pterodactyls upon my left; there in front of me was the glade of the

iguanodons. Now I was in the last belt of trees which separated me

from Fort Challenger. I raised my voice in a cheery shout to allay

their fears. No answering greeting came back to me. My heart sank at

that ominous stillness. I quickened my pace into a run. The zareba

rose before me, even as I had left it, but the gate was open. I rushed

in. In the cold, morning light it was a fearful sight which met my

eyes. Our effects were scattered in wild confusion over the ground; my

comrades had disappeared, and close to the smouldering ashes of our

fire 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 have

nearly lost my reason. I have a vague recollection, as one remembers a

bad dream, of rushing about through the woods all round the empty camp,

calling wildly for my companions. No answer came back from the silent

shadows. The horrible thought that I might never see them again, that

I might find myself abandoned all alone in that dreadful place, with no

possible way of descending into the world below, that I might live and

die in that nightmare country, drove me to desperation. I could have

torn my hair and beaten my head in my despair. Only now did I realize

how I had learned to lean upon my companions, upon the serene

self-confidence of Challenger, and upon the masterful, humorous

coolness of Lord John Roxton. Without them I was like a child in the

dark, helpless and powerless. I did not know which way to turn or what

I should do first.

After a period, during which I sat in bewilderment, I set myself to try

and discover what sudden misfortune could have befallen my companions.

The whole disordered appearance of the camp showed that there had been

some sort of attack, and the rifle-shot no doubt marked the time when

it had occurred. That there should have been only one shot showed that

it had been all over in an instant. The rifles still lay upon the

ground, and one of them--Lord John's--had the empty cartridge in the

breech. The blankets of Challenger and of Summerlee beside the fire

suggested that they had been asleep at the time. The cases of

ammunition and of food were scattered about in a wild litter, together

with our unfortunate cameras and plate-carriers, but none of them were

missing. On the other hand, all the exposed provisions--and I

remembered that there were a considerable quantity of them--were gone.

They were animals, then, and not natives, who had made the inroad, for

surely the latter would have left nothing behind.

But if animals, or some single terrible animal, then what had become of

my comrades? A ferocious beast would surely have destroyed them and

left their remains. It is true that there was that one hideous pool of

blood, which told of violence. Such a monster as had pursued me during

the night could have carried away a victim as easily as a cat would a

mouse. In that case the others would have followed in pursuit. But

then they would assuredly have taken their rifles with them. The more

I tried to think it out with my confused and weary brain the less could

I find any plausible explanation. I searched round in the forest, but

could see no tracks which could help me to a conclusion. Once I lost

myself, 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 my

heart. I was not absolutely alone in the world. Down at the bottom of

the cliff, and within call of me, was waiting the faithful Zambo. I

went to the edge of the plateau and looked over. Sure enough, he was

squatting among his blankets beside his fire in his little camp. But,

to my amazement, a second man was seated in front of him. For an

instant my heart leaped for joy, as I thought that one of my comrades

had 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. I

shouted loudly and waved my handkerchief. Presently Zambo looked up,

waved his hand, and turned to ascend the pinnacle. In a short time he

was standing close to me and listening with deep distress to the story

which I told him.

"Devil got them for sure, Massa Malone," said he. "You got into the

devil'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. I

make fast to this stump, and so you have bridge."

"We have thought of that. There are no creepers here which could bear

us."

"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. He

come back to us. Ready now to take letter, bring rope,--anything."

To take a letter! Why not? Perhaps he might bring help; but in any

case he would ensure that our lives were not spent for nothing, and

that news of all that we had won for Science should reach our friends

at home. I had two completed letters already waiting. I would spend

the day in writing a third, which would bring my experiences absolutely

up to date. The Indian could bear this back to the world. I ordered

Zambo, therefore, to come again in the evening, and I spent my

miserable and lonely day in recording my own adventures of the night

before. I also drew up a note, to be given to any white merchant or

captain of a steam-boat whom the Indian could find, imploring them to

see 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 to

the Indian, and he was promised twice as much if he returned with the

ropes.

So now you will understand, my dear Mr. McArdle, how this communication

reaches you, and you will also know the truth, in case you never hear

again from your unfortunate correspondent. To-night I am too weary and

too depressed to make my plans. To-morrow I must think out some way by

which I shall keep in touch with this camp, and yet search round for

any traces of my unhappy friends.