I have said--or perhaps I have not said, for my memory plays mesad tricks these days--that I glowed with pride when three suchmen as my comrades thanked me for having saved, or at leastgreatly helped, the situation. As the youngster of the party,not merely in years, but in experience, character, knowledge, andall 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 glowof self-satisfaction, that added measure of self-confidence, wereto lead me on that very night to the most dreadful experienceof my life, ending with a shock which turns my heart sick when Ithink of it.

It came about in this way. I had been unduly excited by theadventure 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 hispointed, goat-like beard wagging with each weary nod of his head. Lord John lay silent, wrapped in the South American poncho whichhe wore, while Challenger snored with a roll and rattle whichreverberated through the woods. The full moon was shiningbrightly, and the air was crisply cold. What a night for a walk! And then suddenly came the thought, "Why not?" Suppose I stolesoftly 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 werefound, we should return to London with first-hand knowledge ofthe central mystery of the plateau, to which I alone, of allmen, would have penetrated. I thought of Gladys, with her "Thereare heroisms all round us." I seemed to hear her voice as shesaid it. I thought also of McArdle. What a three column articlefor the paper! What a foundation for a career! A correspondentshipin the next great war might be within my reach. I clutched at agun--my pockets were full of cartridges--and, parting the thornbushes at the gate of our zareba, quickly slipped out. My lastglance showed me the unconscious Summerlee, most futile ofsentinels, still nodding away like a queer mechanical toy in frontof 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 tooimaginative to be a really courageous man, but that I have anoverpowering fear of seeming afraid. This was the power whichnow carried me onwards. I simply could not slink back withnothing done. Even if my comrades should not have missed me, andshould never know of my weakness, there would still remain someintolerable self-shame in my own soul. And yet I shuddered atthe position in which I found myself, and would have given all Ipossessed at that moment to have been honorably free of thewhole business.

It was dreadful in the forest. The trees grew so thickly andtheir foliage spread so widely that I could see nothing of themoon-light save that here and there the high branches made atangled filigree against the starry sky. As the eyes became moreused to the obscurity one learned that there were differentdegrees of darkness among the trees--that some were dimlyvisible, while between and among them there were coal-blackshadowed patches, like the mouths of caves, from which I shrankin horror as I passed. I thought of the despairing yell of thetortured iguanodon--that dreadful cry which had echoed throughthe woods. I thought, too, of the glimpse I had in the light ofLord John's torch of that bloated, warty, blood-slavering muzzle. Even now I was on its hunting-ground. At any instant it mightspring upon me from the shadows--this nameless and horrible monster. I stopped, and, picking a cartridge from my pocket, I opened thebreech 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 amost excellent reason for my failure--one for which no one wouldthink the less of me. But again the foolish pride fought againstthat very word. I could not--must not--fail. After all, myrifle would probably have been as useless as a shot-gun againstsuch dangers as I might meet. If I were to go back to camp tochange my weapon I could hardly expect to enter and to leaveagain without being seen. In that case there would beexplanations, and my attempt would no longer be all my own. After a little hesitation, then, I screwed up my courage andcontinued upon my way, my useless gun under my arm.

The darkness of the forest had been alarming, but even worsewas the white, still flood of moonlight in the open glade ofthe iguanodons. Hid among the bushes, I looked out at it. None ofthe great brutes were in sight. Perhaps the tragedy which hadbefallen 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 amongthe jungle on the farther side I picked up once again the brookwhich was my guide. It was a cheery companion, gurgling andchuckling as it ran, like the dear old trout-stream in the WestCountry where I have fished at night in my boyhood. So long asI followed it down I must come to the lake, and so long as Ifollowed it back I must come to the camp. Often I had to losesight 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,with occasional high trees, took the place of the forest. I could make good progress, therefore, and I could see withoutbeing seen. I passed close to the pterodactyl swamp, and as Idid so, with a dry, crisp, leathery rattle of wings, one ofthese great creatures--it was twenty feet at least from tip totip--rose up from somewhere near me and soared into the air. As it passed across the face of the moon the light shone clearlythrough the membranous wings, and it looked like a flyingskeleton against the white, tropical radiance. I crouched lowamong the bushes, for I knew from past experience that with asingle cry the creature could bring a hundred of its loathsomemates about my ears. It was not until it had settled again thatI dared to steal onwards upon my journey.

The night had been exceedingly still, but as I advanced I becameconscious of a low, rumbling sound, a continuous murmur,somewhere in front of me. This grew louder as I proceeded, untilat last it was clearly quite close to me. When I stood stillthe sound was constant, so that it seemed to come from somestationary cause. It was like a boiling kettle or the bubblingof some great pot. Soon I came upon the source of it, for in thecenter of a small clearing I found a lake--or a pool, rather,for it was not larger than the basin of the Trafalgar Squarefountain--of some black, pitch-like stuff, the surface of whichrose and fell in great blisters of bursting gas. The air aboveit was shimmering with heat, and the ground round was so hot thatI could hardly bear to lay my hand on it. It was clear that thegreat volcanic outburst which had raised this strange plateau somany years ago had not yet entirely spent its forces. Blackened rocksand mounds of lava I had already seen everywhere peeping out fromamid the luxuriant vegetation which draped them, but this asphaltpool in the jungle was the first sign that we had of actualexisting activity on the slopes of the ancient crater. I had notime to examine it further for I had need to hurry if I were to beback in camp in the morning.

It was a fearsome walk, and one which will be with me so long asmemory holds. In the great moonlight clearings I slunk alongamong 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 weregone--great, silent shadows which seemed to prowl upon padded feet. How often I stopped with the intention of returning, and yet everytime my pride conquered my fear, and sent me on again until myobject should be attained.

At last (my watch showed that it was one in the morning) I sawthe gleam of water amid the openings of the jungle, and tenminutes later I was among the reeds upon the borders of thecentral lake. I was exceedingly dry, so I lay down and took along draught of its waters, which were fresh and cold. There wasa broad pathway with many tracks upon it at the spot which I hadfound, so that it was clearly one of the drinking-places ofthe animals. Close to the water's edge there was a huge isolatedblock of lava. Up this I climbed, and, lying on the top, I hadan excellent view in every direction.

The first thing which I saw filled me with amazement. When Idescribed the view from the summit of the great tree, I said thaton the farther cliff I could see a number of dark spots, whichappeared to be the mouths of caves. Now, as I looked up at thesame cliffs, I saw discs of light in every direction, ruddy,clearly-defined patches, like the port-holes of a liner inthe darkness. For a moment I thought it was the lava-glow fromsome volcanic action; but this could not be so. Any volcanic actionwould surely be down in the hollow and not high among the rocks. What, then, was the alternative? It was wonderful, and yet itmust surely be. These ruddy spots must be the reflection offires within the caves--fires which could only be lit by thehand of man. There were human beings, then, upon the plateau. How gloriously my expedition was justified! Here was news indeedfor us to bear back with us to London!

For a long time I lay and watched these red, quivering blotchesof light. I suppose they were ten miles off from me, yet evenat that distance one could observe how, from time to time, theytwinkled or were obscured as someone passed before them. What wouldI not have given to be able to crawl up to them, to peep in, andto take back some word to my comrades as to the appearance andcharacter of the race who lived in so strange a place! It wasout of the question for the moment, and yet surely we could notleave the plateau until we had some definite knowledge upon the point.

Lake Gladys--my own lake--lay like a sheet of quicksilver beforeme, with a reflected moon shining brightly in the center of it. It was shallow, for in many places I saw low sandbanks protrudingabove the water. Everywhere upon the still surface I could seesigns 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 aboutupon the margin. Presently it plunged in, and for some time Icould 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 andbrought back to what was going on at my very feet. Two creatureslike large armadillos had come down to the drinking-place, andwere squatting at the edge of the water, their long, flexibletongues like red ribbons shooting in and out as they lapped. A huge deer, with branching horns, a magnificent creature whichcarried itself like a king, came down with its doe and two fawnsand drank beside the armadillos. No such deer exist anywhereelse upon earth, for the moose or elks which I have seen wouldhardly 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 mostmonstrous animal, was coming down the path.

For a moment I wondered where I could have seen that ungainlyshape, that arched back with triangular fringes along it, thatstrange bird-like head held close to the ground. Then it cameback, to me. It was the stegosaurus--the very creature whichMaple White had preserved in his sketch-book, and which had beenthe first object which arrested the attention of Challenger!There he was--perhaps the very specimen which the American artisthad 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 outmy 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, andhigh time, therefore, that I started upon my homeward journey. There was no difficulty about the direction in which I shouldreturn 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 theboulder upon which I had been lying. I set off, therefore, inhigh spirits, for I felt that I had done good work and wasbringing back a fine budget of news for my companions. Foremost ofall, of course, were the sight of the fiery caves and the certaintythat some troglodytic race inhabited them. But besides that Icould speak from experience of the central lake. I could testifythat it was full of strange creatures, and I had seen severalland forms of primeval life which we had not before encountered. I reflected as I walked that few men in the world could have spenta stranger night or added more to human knowledge in the course of it.

I was plodding up the slope, turning these thoughts over in mymind, and had reached a point which may have been half-way tohome, when my mind was brought back to my own position by astrange noise behind me. It was something between a snore anda growl, low, deep, and exceedingly menacing. Some strangecreature was evidently near me, but nothing could be seen, so Ihastened more rapidly upon my way. I had traversed half a mileor so when suddenly the sound was repeated, still behind me, butlouder and more menacing than before. My heart stood stillwithin me as it flashed across me that the beast, whatever itwas, must surely be after ME. My skin grew cold and my hairrose at the thought. That these monsters should tear each otherto pieces was a part of the strange struggle for existence,but that they should turn upon modern man, that they shoulddeliberately track and hunt down the predominant human, was astaggering and fearsome thought. I remembered again theblood-beslobbered face which we had seen in the glare of LordJohn's torch, like some horrible vision from the deepest circleof Dante's hell. With my knees shaking beneath me, I stood andglared with starting eyes down the moonlit path which lay behind me. All was quiet as in a dream landscape. Silver clearings and theblack patches of the bushes--nothing else could I see. Then fromout of the silence, imminent and threatening, there came once morethat low, throaty croaking, far louder and closer than before. There could no longer be a doubt. Something was on my trail, andwas closing in upon me every minute.

I stood like a man paralyzed, still staring at the ground which Ihad traversed. Then suddenly I saw it. There was movement amongthe bushes at the far end of the clearing which I had just traversed. A great 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 powerfulhind legs, while its front ones were held bent in front of it. It was of enormous size and power, like an erect elephant, but itsmovements, in spite of its bulk, were exceedingly alert. For amoment, 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 sawthat this was a very different creature. Instead of the gentle,deer-shaped head of the great three-toed leaf-eater, this beasthad a broad, squat, toad-like face like that which had alarmed usin our camp. His ferocious cry and the horrible energy of hispursuit both assured me that this was surely one of the greatflesh-eating dinosaurs, the most terrible beasts which have everwalked this earth. As the huge brute loped along it dropped forwardupon its fore-paws and brought its nose to the ground every twentyyards or so. It was smelling out my trail. Sometimes, for aninstant, it was at fault. Then it would catch it up again andcome bounding swiftly along the path I had taken.

Even now when I think of that nightmare the sweat breaks out uponmy brow. What could I do? My useless fowling-piece was in my hand. What help could I get from that? I looked desperately round forsome rock or tree, but I was in a bushy jungle with nothing higherthan a sapling within sight, while I knew that the creature behindme could tear down an ordinary tree as though it were a reed. My only possible chance lay in flight. I could not move swiftlyover the rough, broken ground, but as I looked round me in despairI saw a well-marked, hard-beaten path which ran across in frontof me. We had seen several of the sort, the runs of various wildbeasts, during our expeditions. Along this I could perhaps holdmy own, for I was a fast runner, and in excellent condition. Flinging away my useless gun, I set myself to do such a half-mileas I have never done before or since. My limbs ached, my chestheaved, I felt that my throat would burst for want of air, and yetwith 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 hadthrown him off. The path lay still behind me. And then suddenly,with a crashing and a rending, a thudding of giant feet and apanting of monster lungs the beast was upon me once more. He wasat my very heels. I was lost.

Madman that I was to linger so long before I fled! Up to then hehad hunted by scent, and his movement was slow. But he hadactually seen me as I started to run. From then onwards he hadhunted by sight, for the path showed him where I had gone. Now, ashe came round the curve, he was springing in great bounds. The moonlight shone upon his huge projecting eyes, the row ofenormous teeth in his open mouth, and the gleaming fringe ofclaws upon his short, powerful forearms. With a scream of terrorI 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 feelhis grip upon my back. And then suddenly there came a crash--I wasfalling 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 mostdreadful and penetrating smell. Putting out my hand in thedarkness I came upon something which felt like a huge lump ofmeat, while my other hand closed upon a large bone. Up above methere was a circle of starlit sky, which showed me that I waslying at the bottom of a deep pit. Slowly I staggered to my feetand felt myself all over. I was stiff and sore from head tofoot, but there was no limb which would not move, no joint whichwould not bend. As the circumstances of my fall came back intomy confused brain, I looked up in terror, expecting to see thatdreadful head silhouetted against the paling sky. There was nosign of the monster, however, nor could I hear any sound from above. I began to walk slowly round, therefore, feeling in every directionto find out what this strange place could be into which I had beenso opportunely precipitated.

It was, as I have said, a pit, with sharply-sloping walls and alevel bottom about twenty feet across. This bottom was litteredwith great gobbets of flesh, most of which was in the last stateof putridity. The atmosphere was poisonous and horrible. After tripping and stumbling over these lumps of decay, I camesuddenly against something hard, and I found that an upright postwas firmly fixed in the center of the hollow. It was so high thatI could not reach the top of it with my hand, and it appeared to becovered with grease.

Suddenly I remembered that I had a tin box of wax-vestas inmy pocket. Striking one of them, I was able at last to form someopinion of this place into which I had fallen. There could be noquestion as to its nature. It was a trap--made by the hand of man. The post in the center, some nine feet long, was sharpenedat the upper end, and was black with the stale blood of thecreatures who had been impaled upon it. The remains scatteredabout were fragments of the victims, which had been cut away inorder to clear the stake for the next who might blunder in. I remembered that Challenger had declared that man could not existupon the plateau, since with his feeble weapons he could not holdhis own against the monsters who roamed over it. But now it wasclear enough how it could be done. In their narrow-mouthed cavesthe natives, whoever they might be, had refuges into which thehuge saurians could not penetrate, while with their developedbrains they were capable of setting such traps, covered withbranches, across the paths which marked the run of the animals aswould 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 manto climb, but I hesitated long before I trusted myself withinreach of the dreadful creature which had so nearly destroyed me. How did I know that he was not lurking in the nearest clump ofbushes, waiting for my reappearance? I took heart, however, as Irecalled a conversation between Challenger and Summerlee upon thehabits of the great saurians. Both were agreed that the monsterswere practically brainless, that there was no room for reason intheir tiny cranial cavities, and that if they have disappearedfrom the rest of the world it was assuredly on account of theirown stupidity, which made it impossible for them to adaptthemselves to changing conditions.

To lie in wait for me now would mean that the creature hadappreciated what had happened to me, and this in turn would arguesome power connecting cause and effect. Surely it was morelikely that a brainless creature, acting solely by vaguepredatory instinct, would give up the chase when I disappeared,and, after a pause of astonishment, would wander away in searchof some other prey? I clambered to the edge of the pit andlooked over. The stars were fading, the sky was whitening, andthe cold wind of morning blew pleasantly upon my face. I couldsee or hear nothing of my enemy. Slowly I climbed out and sat fora while upon the ground, ready to spring back into my refuge if anydanger should appear. Then, reassured by the absolute stillnessand by the growing light, I took my courage in both hands andstole back along the path which I had come. Some distance downit I picked up my gun, and shortly afterwards struck the brookwhich 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, butthere was nothing more. For a moment I was shocked at the thoughtthat some sudden danger might have befallen them. But then asimpler and more natural explanation came to my mind. It was nowbroad daylight. No doubt my absence had been noticed. They hadimagined, that I was lost in the woods, and had fired this shotto guide me home. It is true that we had made a strict resolutionagainst firing, but if it seemed to them that I might be in dangerthey would not hesitate. It was for me now to hurry on as fast aspossible, and so to reassure them.

I was weary and spent, so my progress was not so fast as Iwished; but at last I came into regions which I knew. There wasthe swamp of the pterodactyls upon my left; there in front of mewas the glade of the iguanodons. Now I was in the last belt oftrees which separated me from Fort Challenger. I raised my voicein a cheery shout to allay their fears. No answering greetingcame back to me. My heart sank at that ominous stillness. I quickened my pace into a run. The zareba rose before me, evenas 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 effectswere scattered in wild confusion over the ground; my comrades haddisappeared, and close to the smouldering ashes of our fire thegrass was stained crimson with a hideous pool of blood.

I was so stunned by this sudden shock that for a time I musthave nearly lost my reason. I have a vague recollection, asone remembers a bad dream, of rushing about through the woodsall round the empty camp, calling wildly for my companions. No answer came back from the silent shadows. The horriblethought that I might never see them again, that I might findmyself abandoned all alone in that dreadful place, with nopossible way of descending into the world below, that I mightlive 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 mycompanions, 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 myselfto try and discover what sudden misfortune could have befallenmy companions. The whole disordered appearance of the campshowed that there had been some sort of attack, and the rifle-shot no doubt marked the time when it had occurred. That thereshould have been only one shot showed that it had been all overin an instant. The rifles still lay upon the ground, and oneof them--Lord John's--had the empty cartridge in the breech. 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,together with our unfortunate cameras and plate-carriers, butnone of them were missing. On the other hand, all the exposedprovisions--and I remembered that there were a considerablequantity of them--were gone. They were animals, then, and notnatives, who had made the inroad, for surely the latter wouldhave left nothing behind.

But if animals, or some single terrible animal, then what hadbecome of my comrades? A ferocious beast would surely havedestroyed them and left their remains. It is true that there wasthat one hideous pool of blood, which told of violence. Such amonster as had pursued me during the night could have carriedaway a victim as easily as a cat would a mouse. In that case theothers would have followed in pursuit. But then they wouldassuredly have taken their rifles with them. The more I tried tothink it out with my confused and weary brain the less could Ifind 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 anhour of wandering, that I found the camp once more.

Suddenly a thought came to me and brought some little comfort tomy heart. I was not absolutely alone in the world. Down at thebottom of the cliff, and within call of me, was waiting thefaithful Zambo. I went to the edge of the plateau and looked over. Sure enough, he was squatting among his blankets beside his firein his little camp. But, to my amazement, a second man was seatedin front of him. For an instant my heart leaped for joy, as Ithought that one of my comrades had made his way safely down. But a second glance dispelled the hope. The rising sun shonered upon the man's skin. He was an Indian. I shouted loudlyand waved my handkerchief. Presently Zambo looked up, waved hishand, and turned to ascend the pinnacle. In a short time he wasstanding close to me and listening with deep distress to the storywhich I told him.

"Devil got them for sure, Massa Malone," said he. "You gotinto the devil's country, sah, and he take you all to himself. You take advice, Massa Malone, and come down quick, else he getyou 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 couldbear 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; butin any case he would ensure that our lives were not spent fornothing, and that news of all that we had won for Scienceshould reach our friends at home. I had two completed lettersalready waiting. I would spend the day in writing a third, whichwould bring my experiences absolutely up to date. The Indian couldbear this back to the world. I ordered Zambo, therefore, to comeagain in the evening, and I spent my miserable and lonely day inrecording my own adventures of the night before. I also drew upa note, to be given to any white merchant or captain of asteam-boat whom the Indian could find, imploring them to see thatropes were sent to us, since our lives must depend upon it. These documents I threw to Zambo in the evening, and also mypurse, which contained three English sovereigns. These were tobe given to the Indian, and he was promised twice as much if hereturned with the ropes.

So now you will understand, my dear Mr. McArdle, how thiscommunication reaches you, and you will also know the truth, incase 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 intouch with this camp, and yet search round for any traces of myunhappy friends.