Chapter 15
Part 15
11 min read · 2,191 words
That night--I am still speaking of the first day of our
circumnavigation of the plateau--a great experience awaited us, and one
which for ever set at rest any doubt which we could have had as to the
wonders so near us.
You will realize as you read it, my dear Mr. McArdle, and possibly for
the first time that the paper has not sent me on a wild-goose chase,
and that there is inconceivably fine copy waiting for the world
whenever we have the Professor's leave to make use of it. I shall not
dare to publish these articles unless I can bring back my proofs to
England, or I shall be hailed as the journalistic Munchausen of all
time. I have no doubt that you feel the same way yourself, and that
you would not care to stake the whole credit of the Gazette upon this
adventure until we can meet the chorus of criticism and scepticism
which such articles must of necessity elicit. So this wonderful
incident, which would make such a headline for the old paper, must
still wait its turn in the editorial drawer.
And yet it was all over in a flash, and there was no sequel to it, save
in our own convictions.
What occurred was this. Lord John had shot an ajouti--which is a
small, pig-like animal--and, half of it having been given to the
Indians, we were cooking the other half upon our fire. There is a
chill in the air after dark, and we had all drawn close to the blaze.
The night was moonless, but there were some stars, and one could see
for a little distance across the plain. Well, suddenly out of the
darkness, out of the night, there swooped something with a swish like
an aeroplane. The whole group of us were covered for an instant by a
canopy of leathery wings, and I had a momentary vision of a long,
snake-like neck, a fierce, red, greedy eye, and a great snapping beak,
filled, to my amazement, with little, gleaming teeth. The next instant
it was gone--and so was our dinner. A huge black shadow, twenty feet
across, skimmed up into the air; for an instant the monster wings
blotted out the stars, and then it vanished over the brow of the cliff
above us. We all sat in amazed silence round the fire, like the heroes
of Virgil when the Harpies came down upon them. It was Summerlee who
was the first to speak.
"Professor Challenger," said he, in a solemn voice, which quavered with
emotion, "I owe you an apology. Sir, I am very much in the wrong, and
I beg that you will forget what is past."
It was handsomely said, and the two men for the first time shook hands.
So much we have gained by this clear vision of our first pterodactyl.
It was worth a stolen supper to bring two such men together.
But if prehistoric life existed upon the plateau it was not
superabundant, for we had no further glimpse of it during the next
three days. During this time we traversed a barren and forbidding
country, which alternated between stony desert and desolate marshes
full of many wild-fowl, upon the north and east of the cliffs. From
that direction the place is really inaccessible, and, were it not for a
hardish ledge which runs at the very base of the precipice, we should
have had to turn back. Many times we were up to our waists in the
slime and blubber of an old, semi-tropical swamp. To make matters
worse, the place seemed to be a favorite breeding-place of the Jaracaca
snake, the most venomous and aggressive in South America. Again and
again these horrible creatures came writhing and springing towards us
across the surface of this putrid bog, and it was only by keeping our
shot-guns for ever ready that we could feel safe from them. One
funnel-shaped depression in the morass, of a livid green in color from
some lichen which festered in it, will always remain as a nightmare
memory in my mind. It seems to have been a special nest of these
vermins, and the slopes were alive with them, all writhing in our
direction, for it is a peculiarity of the Jaracaca that he will always
attack man at first sight. There were too many for us to shoot, so we
fairly took to our heels and ran until we were exhausted. I shall
always remember as we looked back how far behind we could see the heads
and necks of our horrible pursuers rising and falling amid the reeds.
Jaracaca Swamp we named it in the map which we are constructing.
The cliffs upon the farther side had lost their ruddy tint, being
chocolate-brown in color; the vegetation was more scattered along the
top of them, and they had sunk to three or four hundred feet in height,
but in no place did we find any point where they could be ascended. If
anything, they were more impossible than at the first point where we
had met them. Their absolute steepness is indicated in the photograph
which I took over the stony desert.
"Surely," said I, as we discussed the situation, "the rain must find
its way down somehow. There are bound to be water-channels in the
rocks."
"Our young friend has glimpses of lucidity," said Professor Challenger,
patting me upon the shoulder.
"The rain must go somewhere," I repeated.
"He keeps a firm grip upon actuality. The only drawback is that we
have conclusively proved by ocular demonstration that there are no
water channels down the rocks."
"Where, then, does it go?" I persisted.
"I think it may be fairly assumed that if it does not come outwards it
must run inwards."
"Then there is a lake in the center."
"So I should suppose."
"It is more than likely that the lake may be an old crater," said
Summerlee. "The whole formation is, of course, highly volcanic. But,
however that may be, I should expect to find the surface of the plateau
slope inwards with a considerable sheet of water in the center, which
may drain off, by some subterranean channel, into the marshes of the
Jaracaca Swamp."
"Or evaporation might preserve an equilibrium," remarked Challenger,
and the two learned men wandered off into one of their usual scientific
arguments, which were as comprehensible as Chinese to the layman.
On the sixth day we completed our first circuit of the cliffs, and
found ourselves back at the first camp, beside the isolated pinnacle of
rock. We were a disconsolate party, for nothing could have been more
minute than our investigation, and it was absolutely certain that there
was no single point where the most active human being could possibly
hope to scale the cliff. The place which Maple White's chalk-marks had
indicated as his own means of access was now entirely impassable.
What were we to do now? Our stores of provisions, supplemented by our
guns, were holding out well, but the day must come when they would need
replenishment. In a couple of months the rains might be expected, and
we should be washed out of our camp. The rock was harder than marble,
and any attempt at cutting a path for so great a height was more than
our time or resources would admit. No wonder that we looked gloomily
at each other that night, and sought our blankets with hardly a word
exchanged. I remember that as I dropped off to sleep my last
recollection was that Challenger was squatting, like a monstrous
bull-frog, by the fire, his huge head in his hands, sunk apparently in
the deepest thought, and entirely oblivious to the good-night which I
wished him.
But it was a very different Challenger who greeted us in the morning--a
Challenger with contentment and self-congratulation shining from his
whole person. He faced us as we assembled for breakfast with a
deprecating false modesty in his eyes, as who should say, "I know that
I deserve all that you can say, but I pray you to spare my blushes by
not saying it." His beard bristled exultantly, his chest was thrown
out, and his hand was thrust into the front of his jacket. So, in his
fancy, may he see himself sometimes, gracing the vacant pedestal in
Trafalgar Square, and adding one more to the horrors of the London
streets.
"Eureka!" he cried, his teeth shining through his beard. "Gentlemen,
you may congratulate me and we may congratulate each other. The
problem is solved."
"You have found a way up?"
"I venture to think so."
"And where?"
For answer he pointed to the spire-like pinnacle upon our right.
Our faces--or mine, at least--fell as we surveyed it. That it could be
climbed we had our companion's assurance. But a horrible abyss lay
between it and the plateau.
"We can never get across," I gasped.
"We can at least all reach the summit," said he. "When we are up I may
be able to show you that the resources of an inventive mind are not yet
exhausted."
After breakfast we unpacked the bundle in which our leader had brought
his climbing accessories. From it he took a coil of the strongest and
lightest rope, a hundred and fifty feet in length, with climbing irons,
clamps, and other devices. Lord John was an experienced mountaineer,
and Summerlee had done some rough climbing at various times, so that I
was really the novice at rock-work of the party; but my strength and
activity may have made up for my want of experience.
It was not in reality a very stiff task, though there were moments
which made my hair bristle upon my head. The first half was perfectly
easy, but from there upwards it became continually steeper until, for
the last fifty feet, we were literally clinging with our fingers and
toes to tiny ledges and crevices in the rock. I could not have
accomplished it, nor could Summerlee, if Challenger had not gained the
summit (it was extraordinary to see such activity in so unwieldy a
creature) and there fixed the rope round the trunk of the considerable
tree which grew there. With this as our support, we were soon able to
scramble up the jagged wall until we found ourselves upon the small
grassy platform, some twenty-five feet each way, which formed the
summit.
The first impression which I received when I had recovered my breath
was of the extraordinary view over the country which we had traversed.
The whole Brazilian plain seemed to lie beneath us, extending away and
away until it ended in dim blue mists upon the farthest sky-line. In
the foreground was the long slope, strewn with rocks and dotted with
tree-ferns; farther off in the middle distance, looking over the
saddle-back hill, I could just see the yellow and green mass of bamboos
through which we had passed; and then, gradually, the vegetation
increased until it formed the huge forest which extended as far as the
eyes could reach, and for a good two thousand miles beyond.
I was still drinking in this wonderful panorama when the heavy hand of
the Professor fell upon my shoulder.
"This way, my young friend," said he; "vestigia nulla retrorsum. Never
look rearwards, but always to our glorious goal."
The level of the plateau, when I turned, was exactly that on which we
stood, and the green bank of bushes, with occasional trees, was so near
that it was difficult to realize how inaccessible it remained. At a
rough guess the gulf was forty feet across, but, so far as I could see,
it might as well have been forty miles. I placed one arm round the
trunk of the tree and leaned over the abyss. Far down were the small
dark figures of our servants, looking up at us. The wall was
absolutely precipitous, as was that which faced me.
"This is indeed curious," said the creaking voice of Professor
Summerlee.
I turned, and found that he was examining with great interest the tree
to which I clung. That smooth bark and those small, ribbed leaves
seemed familiar to my eyes. "Why," I cried, "it's a beech!"
"Exactly," said Summerlee. "A fellow-countryman in a far land."
"Not only a fellow-countryman, my good sir," said Challenger, "but
also, if I may be allowed to enlarge your simile, an ally of the first
value. This beech tree will be our saviour."
"By George!" cried Lord John, "a bridge!"
"Exactly, my friends, a bridge! It is not for nothing that I expended
an hour last night in focusing my mind upon the situation. I have some
recollection of once remarking to our young friend here that G. E. C.
is at his best when his back is to the wall. Last night you will admit
that all our backs were to the wall. But where will-power and
intellect go together, there is always a way out. A drawbridge had to
be found which could be dropped across the abyss. Behold it!"
Arthur Conan Doyle — text from Project Gutenberg (eBook #139)
Comments
Loading comments…