CHAPTER X "The most Wonderful Things have Happened"

lpicture.Itscomradeshadflownhigheratthesuddensound,andwerecirclingaboveourheads. "Now,"criedLordJohn,"nowforourlives!" Westaggeredthroughthebrushwood,andevenaswereachedthetreestheharpieswereonusagain.Summerleewasknockeddown,butwetorehimupandrushedamongthetrunks.Oncethereweweresafe,forthosehugewingshadnospacefortheirsweepbeneaththebranches.Aswelimpedhomewards,sadlymauledanddiscomfited,wesawthemforalongtimeflyingatagreatheightagainstthedeepblueskyaboveourheads,soaringroundandround,nobiggerthanwood-pigeons,withtheireyesnodoubtstillfollowingourprogress.Atlast,however,aswereachedthethickerwoodstheygaveupthechase,andwesawthemnomore. "Amostinterestingandconvincingexperience,"saidChallenger,aswehaltedbesidethebrookandhebathedaswollenknee."Weareexceptionallywellinformed,Summerlee,astothehabitsoftheenragedpterodactyl." Summerleewaswipingthebloodfromacutinhisforehead,whileIwastyingupanastystabinthemuscleoftheneck.LordJohnhadtheshoulderofhiscoattornaway,butthecreature'steethhadonlygrazedtheflesh. "Itisworthnoting,"Challengercontinued,"thatouryoungfriendhasreceivedanundoubtedstab,whileLordJohn'scoatcouldonlyhavebeentornbyabite.Inmyowncase,Iwasbeatenabouttheheadbytheirwings,sowehavehadaremarkableexhibitionoftheirvariousmethodsofoffence." "Ithasbeentouchandgoforourlives,"saidLordJohn,gravely,"andIcouldnotthinkofamorerottensortofdeaththantobeoutedbysuchfilthyvermin.Iwassorrytofiremyrifle,but,byJove!therewasnogreatchoice." "Weshouldnotbehereifyouhadn't,"saidI,withconviction. "Itmaydonoharm,"saidhe."Amongthesewoodstheremustbemanyloudcracksfromsplittingorfallingtreeswhichwouldbejustlikethesoundofagun.Butnow,ifyouareofmyopinion,wehavehadthrillsenoughforoneday,andhadbestgetbacktothesurgicalboxatthecampforsomecarbolic.Whoknowswhatvenomthesebeastsmayhaveintheirhideousjaws?" Butsurelynomeneverhadjustsuchadaysincetheworldbegan.Somefreshsurprisewaseverinstoreforus.When,followingthecourseofourbrook,weatlastreachedourgladeandsawthethornybarricadeofourcamp,wethoughtthatouradventureswereatanend.Butwehadsomethingmoretothinkofbeforewecouldrest.ThegateofFortChallengerhadbeenuntouched,thewallswereunbroken,andyetithadbeenvisitedbysomestrangeandpowerfulcreatureinourabsence.Nofoot-markshowedatraceofitsnature,andonlytheoverhangingbranchoftheenormousginkotreesuggestedhowitmighthavecomeandgonebutofitsmalevolentstrengththerewasampleevidenceintheconditionofourstores.Theywerestrewnatrandomallovertheground,andonetinofmeathadbeencrushedintopiecessoastoextractthecontents.Acaseofcartridgeshadbeenshatteredintomatchwood,andoneofthebrassshellslayshreddedintopiecesbesideit.Againthefeelingofvaguehorrorcameuponoursouls,andwegazedroundwithfrightenedeyesatthedarkshadowswhichlayaroundus,inallofwhichsomefearsomeshapemightbelurking.HowgooditwaswhenwewerehailedbythevoiceofZambo,and,goingtotheedgeoftheplateau,sawhimsittinggrinningatusuponthetopoftheoppositepinnacle. "Allwell,MassaChallenger,allwell!"hecried."Mestayhere.Nofear.Youalwaysfindmewhenyouwant." Hishonestblackface,andtheimmenseviewbeforeus,whichcarriedushalf-waybacktotheaffluentoftheAmazon,helpedustorememberthatwereallywereuponthisearthinthetwentiethcentury,andhadnotbysomemagicbeenconveyedtosomerawplanetinitsearliestandwildeststate.Howdifficultitwastorealizethatthevioletlineuponthefarhorizonwaswelladvancedtothatgreatriveruponwhichhugesteamersran,andfolktalkedofthesmallaffairsoflife,whilewe,maroonedamongthecreaturesofabygoneage,couldbutgazetowardsitandyearnforallthatitmeant! Oneothermemoryremainswithmeofthiswonderfulday,andwithitIwillclosethisletter.Thetwoprofessors,theirtempersaggravatednodoubtbytheirinjuries,hadfallenoutastowhetherourassailantswereofthegenuspterodactylusordimorphodon,andhighwordshadensued.ToavoidtheirwranglingImovedsomelittlewayapart,andwasseatedsmokinguponthetrunkofafallentree,whenLordJohnstrolledoverinmydirection. "Isay,Malone,"saidhe,"doyourememberthatplacewherethosebeastswere?" "Veryclearly." "Asortofvolcanicpit,wasitnot?" "Exactly,"saidI. "Didyounoticethesoil?" "Rocks." "Butroundthewater—wherethereedswere?" "Itwasabluishsoil.Itlookedlikeclay." "Exactly.Avolcanictubefullofblueclay." "Whatofthat?"Iasked. "Oh,nothing,nothing,"saidhe,andstrolledbacktowherethevoicesofthecontendingmenofscienceroseinaprolongedduet,thehigh,stridentnoteofSummerleerisingandfallingtothesonorousbassofChallenger.IshouldhavethoughtnomoreofLordJohn'sremarkwereitnotthatonceagainthatnightIheardhimmuttertohimself:"Blueclay—clayinavolcanictube!"TheywerethelastwordsIheardbeforeIdroppedintoanexhaustedsleep.