Chapter 4
For several days things went along in about the same course. I took ourposition every morning with my crude sextant; but the results werealways most unsatisfactory. They always showed a considerable westingwhen I knew that we had been sailing due north. I blamed my crudeinstrument, and kept on. Then one afternoon the girl came to me.
"Pardon me," she said, "but were I you, I should watch this manBenson--especially when he is in charge." I asked her what she meant,thinking I could see the influence of von Schoenvorts raising asuspicion against one of my most trusted men.
"If you will note the boat's course a half-hour after Benson goes onduty," she said, "you will know what I mean, and you will understandwhy he prefers a night watch. Possibly, too, you will understand someother things that have taken place aboard."
Then she went back to her room, thus ending the conversation. I waiteduntil half an hour after Benson had gone on duty, and then I went ondeck, passing through the conning-tower where Benson sat, and lookingat the compass. It showed that our course was north by west--that is,one point west of north, which was, for our assumed position, aboutright. I was greatly relieved to find that nothing was wrong, for thegirl's words had caused me considerable apprehension. I was about toreturn to my room when a thought occurred to me that again caused me tochange my mind--and, incidentally, came near proving my death-warrant.
When I had left the conning-tower little more than a half-hour since,the sea had been breaking over the port bow, and it seemed to me quiteimprobable that in so short a time an equally heavy sea could bedeluging us from the opposite side of the ship--winds may changequickly, but not a long, heavy sea. There was only one othersolution--since I left the tower, our course had been altered someeight points. Turning quickly, I climbed out upon the conning-tower.A single glance at the heavens confirmed my suspicions; theconstellations which should have been dead ahead were directlystarboard. We were sailing due west.
Just for an instant longer I stood there to check up my calculations--Iwanted to be quite sure before I accused Benson of perfidy, and aboutthe only thing I came near making quite sure of was death. I cannotsee even now how I escaped it. I was standing on the edge of theconning-tower, when a heavy palm suddenly struck me between theshoulders and hurled me forward into space. The drop to the triangulardeck forward of the conning-tower might easily have broken a leg forme, or I might have slipped off onto the deck and rolled overboard; butfate was upon my side, as I was only slightly bruised. As I came to myfeet, I heard the conning-tower cover slam. There is a ladder whichleads from the deck to the top of the tower. Up this I scrambled, asfast as I could go; but Benson had the cover tight before I reached it.
I stood there a moment in dumb consternation. What did the fellowintend? What was going on below? If Benson was a traitor, how could Iknow that there were not other traitors among us? I cursed myself formy folly in going out upon the deck, and then this thought suggestedanother--a hideous one: who was it that had really been responsible formy being here?
Thinking to attract attention from inside the craft, I again ran downthe ladder and onto the small deck only to find that the steel coversof the conning-tower windows were shut, and then I leaned with my backagainst the tower and cursed myself for a gullible idiot.
I glanced at the bow. The sea seemed to be getting heavier, for everywave now washed completely over the lower deck. I watched them for amoment, and then a sudden chill pervaded my entire being. It was notthe chill of wet clothing, or the dashing spray which drenched my face;no, it was the chill of the hand of death upon my heart. In an instantI had turned the last corner of life's highway and was looking GodAlmighty in the face--the U-33 was being slowly submerged!
It would be difficult, even impossible, to set down in writing mysensations at that moment. All I can particularly recall is that Ilaughed, though neither from a spirit of bravado nor from hysteria.And I wanted to smoke. Lord! how I did want to smoke; but that was outof the question.
I watched the water rise until the little deck I stood on was awash,and then I clambered once more to the top of the conning-tower. Fromthe very slow submergence of the boat I knew that Benson was doing theentire trick alone--that he was merely permitting the diving-tanks tofill and that the diving-rudders were not in use. The throbbing of theengines ceased, and in its stead came the steady vibration of theelectric motors. The water was halfway up the conning-tower! I hadperhaps five minutes longer on the deck. I tried to decide what Ishould do after I was washed away. Should I swim until exhaustionclaimed me, or should I give up and end the agony at the first plunge?
From below came two muffled reports. They sounded not unlike shots.Was Benson meeting with resistance? Personally it could mean little tome, for even though my men might overcome the enemy, none would know ofmy predicament until long after it was too late to succor me. The topof the conning-tower was now awash. I clung to the wireless mast,while the great waves surged sometimes completely over me.
I knew the end was near and, almost involuntarily, I did that which Ihad not done since childhood--I prayed. After that I felt better.
I clung and waited, but the water rose no higher.
Instead it receded. Now the top of the conning-tower received only thecrests of the higher waves; now the little triangular deck below becamevisible! What had occurred within? Did Benson believe me alreadygone, and was he emerging because of that belief, or had he and hisforces been vanquished? The suspense was more wearing than that whichI had endured while waiting for dissolution. Presently the main deckcame into view, and then the conning-tower opened behind me, and Iturned to look into the anxious face of Bradley. An expression ofrelief overspread his features.
"Thank God, man!" was all he said as he reached forth and dragged meinto the tower. I was cold and numb and rather all in. Another fewminutes would have done for me, I am sure, but the warmth of theinterior helped to revive me, aided and abetted by some brandy whichBradley poured down my throat, from which it nearly removed themembrane. That brandy would have revived a corpse.
When I got down into the centrale, I saw the Germans lined up on oneside with a couple of my men with pistols standing over them. VonSchoenvorts was among them. On the floor lay Benson, moaning, andbeyond him stood the girl, a revolver in one hand. I looked about,bewildered.
"What has happened down here?" I asked. "Tell me!"
Bradley replied. "You see the result, sir," he said. "It might havebeen a very different result but for Miss La Rue. We were all asleep.Benson had relieved the guard early in the evening; there was no one towatch him--no one but Miss La Rue. She felt the submergence of theboat and came out of her room to investigate. She was just in time tosee Benson at the diving rudders. When he saw her, he raised hispistol and fired point-blank at her, but he missed and she fired--anddidn't miss. The two shots awakened everyone, and as our men werearmed, the result was inevitable as you see it; but it would have beenvery different had it not been for Miss La Rue. It was she who closedthe diving-tank sea-cocks and roused Olson and me, and had the pumpsstarted to empty them."
And there I had been thinking that through her machinations I had beenlured to the deck and to my death! I could have gone on my knees toher and begged her forgiveness--or at least I could have, had I notbeen Anglo-Saxon. As it was, I could only remove my soggy cap and bowand mumble my appreciation. She made no reply--only turned and walkedvery rapidly toward her room. Could I have heard aright? Was it reallya sob that came floating back to me through the narrow aisle of theU-33?
Benson died that night. He remained defiant almost to the last; butjust before he went out, he motioned to me, and I leaned over to catchthe faintly whispered words.
"I did it alone," he said. "I did it because I hate you--I hate allyour kind. I was kicked out of your shipyard at Santa Monica. I waslocked out of California. I am an I. W. W. I became a Germanagent--not because I love them, for I hate them too--but because Iwanted t
o injure Americans, whom I hated more. I threw the wirelessapparatus overboard. I destroyed the chronometer and the sextant. Idevised a scheme for varying the compass to suit my wishes. I toldWilson that I had seen the girl talking with von Schoenvorts, and Imade the poor egg think he had seen her doing the same thing. I amsorry--sorry that my plans failed. I hate you."
He didn't die for a half-hour after that; nor did he speakagain--aloud; but just a few seconds before he went to meet his Maker,his lips moved in a faint whisper; and as I leaned closer to catch hiswords, what do you suppose I heard? "Now--I--lay me--down--to--sleep"That was all; Benson was dead. We threw his body overboard.
The wind of that night brought on some pretty rough weather with a lotof black clouds which persisted for several days. We didn't know whatcourse we had been holding, and there was no way of finding out, as wecould no longer trust the compass, not knowing what Benson had done toit. The long and the short of it was that we cruised about aimlesslyuntil the sun came out again. I'll never forget that day or itssurprises. We reckoned, or rather guessed, that we were somewhere offthe coast of Peru. The wind, which had been blowing fitfully from theeast, suddenly veered around into the south, and presently we felt asudden chill.
"Peru!" snorted Olson. "When were yez after smellin' iceber-rgs offPeru?"
Icebergs! "Icebergs, nothin'!" exclaimed one of the Englishmen. "Why,man, they don't come north of fourteen here in these waters."
"Then," replied Olson, "ye're sout' of fourteen, me b'y."
We thought he was crazy; but he wasn't, for that afternoon we sighted agreat berg south of us, and we'd been running north, we thought, fordays. I can tell you we were a discouraged lot; but we got a faintthrill of hope early the next morning when the lookout bawled down theopen hatch: "Land! Land northwest by west!"
I think we were all sick for the sight of land. I know that I was; butmy interest was quickly dissipated by the sudden illness of three ofthe Germans. Almost simultaneously they commenced vomiting. Theycouldn't suggest any explanation for it. I asked them what they hadeaten, and found they had eaten nothing other than the food cooked forall of us. "Have you drunk anything?" I asked, for I knew that therewas liquor aboard, and medicines in the same locker.
"Only water," moaned one of them. "We all drank water together thismorning. We opened a new tank. Maybe it was the water."
I started an investigation which revealed a terrifying condition--someone, probably Benson, had poisoned all the running water on the ship.It would have been worse, though, had land not been in sight. Thesight of land filled us with renewed hope.
Our course had been altered, and we were rapidly approaching whatappeared to be a precipitous headland. Cliffs, seemingly risingperpendicularly out of the sea, faded away into the mist upon eitherhand as we approached. The land before us might have been a continent,so mighty appeared the shoreline; yet we knew that we must be thousandsof miles from the nearest western land-mass--New Zealand or Australia.
We took our bearings with our crude and inaccurate instruments; wesearched the chart; we cudgeled our brains; and at last it was Bradleywho suggested a solution. He was in the tower and watching thecompass, to which he called my attention. The needle was pointingstraight toward the land. Bradley swung the helm hard to starboard. Icould feel the U-33 respond, and yet the arrow still clung straight andsure toward the distant cliffs.
"What do you make of it?" I asked him.
"Did you ever hear of Caproni?" he asked.
"An early Italian navigator?" I returned.
"Yes; he followed Cook about 1721. He is scarcely mentioned even bycontemporaneous historians--probably because he got into politicaldifficulties on his return to Italy. It was the fashion to scoff athis claims, but I recall reading one of his works--his only one, Ibelieve--in which he described a new continent in the south seas, acontinent made up of 'some strange metal' which attracted the compass;a rockbound, inhospitable coast, without beach or harbor, whichextended for hundreds of miles. He could make no landing; nor in theseveral days he cruised about it did he see sign of life. He called itCaprona and sailed away. I believe, sir, that we are looking upon thecoast of Caprona, uncharted and forgotten for two hundred years."
"If you are right, it might account for much of the deviation of thecompass during the past two days," I suggested. "Caprona has beenluring us upon her deadly rocks. Well, we'll accept her challenge.We'll land upon Caprona. Along that long front there must be avulnerable spot. We will find it, Bradley, for we must find it. Wemust find water on Caprona, or we must die."
And so we approached the coast upon which no living eyes had everrested. Straight from the ocean's depths rose towering cliffs, shotwith brown and blues and greens--withered moss and lichen and theverdigris of copper, and everywhere the rusty ocher of iron pyrites.The cliff-tops, though ragged, were of such uniform height as tosuggest the boundaries of a great plateau, and now and again we caughtglimpses of verdure topping the rocky escarpment, as though bush orjungle-land had pushed outward from a lush vegetation farther inland tosignal to an unseeing world that Caprona lived and joyed in life beyondher austere and repellent coast.
But metaphor, however poetic, never slaked a dry throat. To enjoyCaprona's romantic suggestions we must have water, and so we came inclose, always sounding, and skirted the shore. As close in as we daredcruise, we found fathomless depths, and always the same undentedcoastline of bald cliffs. As darkness threatened, we drew away and laywell off the coast all night. We had not as yet really commenced tosuffer for lack of water; but I knew that it would not be long beforewe did, and so at the first streak of dawn I moved in again and oncemore took up the hopeless survey of the forbidding coast.
Toward noon we discovered a beach, the first we had seen. It was anarrow strip of sand at the base of a part of the cliff that seemedlower than any we had before scanned. At its foot, half buried in thesand, lay great boulders, mute evidence that in a bygone age somemighty natural force had crumpled Caprona's barrier at this point. Itwas Bradley who first called our attention to a strange object lyingamong the boulders above the surf.
"Looks like a man," he said, and passed his glasses to me.
I looked long and carefully and could have sworn that the thing I sawwas the sprawled figure of a human being. Miss La Rue was on deck withus. I turned and asked her to go below. Without a word she did as Ibade. Then I stripped, and as I did so, Nobs looked questioningly atme. He had been wont at home to enter the surf with me, and evidentlyhe had not forgotten it.
"What are you going to do, sir?" asked Olson.
"I'm going to see what that thing is on shore," I replied. "If it's aman, it may mean that Caprona is inhabited, or it may merely mean thatsome poor devils were shipwrecked here. I ought to be able to tell fromthe clothing which is more near the truth.
"How about sharks?" queried Olson. "Sure, you ought to carry a knoife."
"Here you are, sir," cried one of the men.
It was a long slim blade he offered--one that I could carry between myteeth--and so I accepted it gladly.
"Keep close in," I directed Bradley, and then I dived over the side andstruck out for the narrow beach. There was another splash directlybehind me, and turning my head, I saw faithful old Nobs swimmingvaliantly in my wake.
The surf was not heavy, and there was no undertow, so we made shoreeasily, effecting an equally easy landing. The beach was composedlargely of small stones worn smooth by the action of water. There waslittle sand, though from the deck of the U-33 the beach had appeared tobe all sand, and I saw no evidences of mollusca or crustacea such asare common to all beaches I have previously seen. I attribute this tothe fact of the smallness of the beach, the enormous depth ofsurrounding water and the great distance at which Caprona lies from hernearest neighbor.
As Nobs and I approached the recumbent figure farther up the beach, Iwas appraised by my nose that whether man or not, the thing had once beenorganic and alive, but th
at for some time it had been dead. Nobshalted, sniffed and growled. A little later he sat down upon hishaunches, raised his muzzle to the heavens and bayed forth a mostdismal howl. I shied a small stone at him and bade him shut up--hisuncanny noise made me nervous. When I had come quite close to thething, I still could not say whether it had been man or beast. Thecarcass was badly swollen and partly decomposed. There was no sign ofclothing upon or about it. A fine, brownish hair covered the chest andabdomen, and the face, the palms of the hands, the feet, the shouldersand back were practically hairless. The creature must have been aboutthe height of a fair sized man; its features were similar to those of aman; yet had it been a man?
I could not say, for it resembled an ape no more than it did a man.Its large toes protruded laterally as do those of the semiarborealpeoples of Borneo, the Philippines and other remote regions where lowtypes still persist. The countenance might have been that of a crossbetween Pithecanthropus, the Java ape-man, and a daughter of thePiltdown race of prehistoric Sussex. A wooden cudgel lay beside thecorpse.
Now this fact set me thinking. There was no wood of any description insight. There was nothing about the beach to suggest a wrecked mariner.There was absolutely nothing about the body to suggest that it mightpossibly in life have known a maritime experience. It was the body ofa low type of man or a high type of beast. In neither instance wouldit have been of a seafaring race. Therefore I deduced that it wasnative to Caprona--that it lived inland, and that it had fallen or beenhurled from the cliffs above. Such being the case, Caprona wasinhabitable, if not inhabited, by man; but how to reach the inhabitableinterior! That was the question. A closer view of the cliffs than hadbeen afforded me from the deck of the U-33 only confirmed my convictionthat no mortal man could scale those perpendicular heights; there wasnot a finger-hold, not a toe-hold, upon them. I turned away baffled.
Nobs and I met with no sharks upon our return journey to the submarine.My report filled everyone with theories and speculations, and withrenewed hope and determination. They all reasoned along the same linesthat I had reasoned--the conclusions were obvious, but not the water.We were now thirstier than ever.
The balance of that day we spent in continuing a minute and fruitlessexploration of the monotonous coast. There was not another break inthe frowning cliffs--not even another minute patch of pebbly beach. Asthe sun fell, so did our spirits. I had tried to make advances to thegirl again; but she would have none of me, and so I was not onlythirsty but otherwise sad and downhearted. I was glad when the new daybroke the hideous spell of a sleepless night.
The morning's search brought us no shred of hope. Caprona wasimpregnable--that was the decision of all; yet we kept on. It musthave been about two bells of the afternoon watch that Bradley called myattention to the branch of a tree, with leaves upon it, floating on thesea. "It may have been carried down to the ocean by a river," hesuggested.
"Yes," I replied, "it may have; it may have tumbled or been thrown offthe top of one of these cliffs."
Bradley's face fell. "I thought of that, too," he replied, "but Iwanted to believe the other."
"Right you are!" I cried. "We must believe the other until we prove itfalse. We can't afford to give up heart now, when we need heart most.The branch was carried down by a river, and we are going to find thatriver." I smote my open palm with a clenched fist, to emphasize adetermination unsupported by hope. "There!" I cried suddenly. "Seethat, Bradley?" And I pointed at a spot closer to shore. "See that,man!" Some flowers and grasses and another leafy branch floated towardus. We both scanned the water and the coastline. Bradley evidentlydiscovered something, or at least thought that he had. He called downfor a bucket and a rope, and when they were passed up to him, helowered the former into the sea and drew it in filled with water. Ofthis he took a taste, and straightening up, looked into my eyes with anexpression of elation--as much as to say "I told you so!"
"This water is warm," he announced, "and fresh!"
I grabbed the bucket and tasted its contents. The water was very warm,and it was fresh, but there was a most unpleasant taste to it.
"Did you ever taste water from a stagnant pool full of tadpoles?"Bradley asked.
"That's it," I exclaimed, "--that's just the taste exactly, though Ihaven't experienced it since boyhood; but how can water from a flowingstream, taste thus, and what the dickens makes it so warm? It must beat least 70 or 80 Fahrenheit, possibly higher."
"Yes," agreed Bradley, "I should say higher; but where does it comefrom?"
"That is easily discovered now that we have found it," I answered. "Itcan't come from the ocean; so it must come from the land. All that wehave to do is follow it, and sooner or later we shall come upon itssource."
We were already rather close in; but I ordered the U-33's prow turnedinshore and we crept slowly along, constantly dipping up the water andtasting it to assure ourselves that we didn't get outside thefresh-water current. There was a very light off-shore wind andscarcely any breakers, so that the approach to the shore was continuedwithout finding bottom; yet though we were already quite close, we sawno indication of any indention in the coast from which even a tinybrooklet might issue, and certainly no mouth of a large river such asthis must necessarily be to freshen the ocean even two hundred yardsfrom shore. The tide was running out, and this, together with thestrong flow of the freshwater current, would have prevented our goingagainst the cliffs even had we not been under power; as it was we hadto buck the combined forces in order to hold our position at all. Wecame up to within twenty-five feet of the sheer wall, which loomed highabove us. There was no break in its forbidding face. As we watched theface of the waters and searched the cliff's high face, Olson suggestedthat the fresh water might come from a submarine geyser. This, hesaid, would account for its heat; but even as he spoke a bush, coveredthickly with leaves and flowers, bubbled to the surface and floated offastern.
"Flowering shrubs don't thrive in the subterranean caverns from whichgeysers spring," suggested Bradley.
Olson shook his head. "It beats me," he said.
"I've got it!" I exclaimed suddenly. "Look there!" And I pointed atthe base of the cliff ahead of us, which the receding tide wasgradually exposing to our view. They all looked, and all saw what Ihad seen--the top of a dark opening in the rock, through which waterwas pouring out into the sea. "It's the subterranean channel of aninland river," I cried. "It flows through a land covered withvegetation--and therefore a land upon which the sun shines. Nosubterranean caverns produce any order of plant life even remotelyresembling what we have seen disgorged by this river. Beyond thosecliffs lie fertile lands and fresh water--perhaps, game!"
"Yis, sir," said Olson, "behoind the cliffs! Ye spoke a true word,sir--behoind!"
Bradley laughed--a rather sorry laugh, though. "You might as well callour attention to the fact, sir," he said, "that science has indicatedthat there is fresh water and vegetation on Mars."
"Not at all," I rejoined. "A U-boat isn't constructed to navigatespace, but it is designed to travel below the surface of the water."
"You'd be after sailin' into that blank pocket?" asked Olson.
"I would, Olson," I replied. "We haven't one chance for life in ahundred thousand if we don't find food and water upon Caprona. Thiswater coming out of the cliff is not salt; but neither is it fit todrink, though each of us has drunk. It is fair to assume that inlandthe river is fed by pure streams, that there are fruits and herbs andgame. Shall we lie out here and die of thirst and starvation with aland of plenty possibly only a few hundred yards away? We have themeans for navigating a subterranean river. Are we too cowardly toutilize this means?"
"Be afther goin' to it," said Olson.
"I'm willing to see it through," agreed Bradley.
"Then under the bottom, wi' the best o' luck an' give 'em hell!" crieda young fellow who had been in the trenches.
"To the diving-stations!" I commanded, and in less than a minute thedeck was dese
rted, the conning-tower covers had slammed to and the U-33was submerging--possibly for the last time. I know that I had thisfeeling, and I think that most of the others did.
As we went down, I sat in the tower with the searchlight projecting itsseemingly feeble rays ahead. We submerged very slowly and withoutheadway more than sufficient to keep her nose in the right direction,and as we went down, I saw outlined ahead of us the black opening inthe great cliff. It was an opening that would have admitted ahalf-dozen U-boats at one and the same time, roughly cylindrical incontour--and dark as the pit of perdition.
As I gave the command which sent the U-33 slowly ahead, I could not butfeel a certain uncanny presentiment of evil. Where were we going?What lay at the end of this great sewer? Had we bidden farewellforever to the sunlight and life, or were there before us dangers evengreater than those which we now faced? I tried to keep my mind fromvain imagining by calling everything which I observed to the eager earsbelow. I was the eyes of the whole company, and I did my best not tofail them. We had advanced a hundred yards, perhaps, when our firstdanger confronted us. Just ahead was a sharp right-angle turn in thetunnel. I could see the river's flotsam hurtling against the rockywall upon the left as it was driven on by the mighty current, and Ifeared for the safety of the U-33 in making so sharp a turn under suchadverse conditions; but there was nothing for it but to try. I didn'twarn my fellows of the danger--it could have but caused them uselessapprehension, for if we were to be smashed against the rocky wall, nopower on earth could avert the quick end that would come to us. I gavethe command full speed ahead and went charging toward the menace. Iwas forced to approach the dangerous left-hand wall in order to makethe turn, and I depended upon the power of the motors to carry usthrough the surging waters in safety. Well, we made it; but it was anarrow squeak. As we swung around, the full force of the currentcaught us and drove the stern against the rocks; there was a thud whichsent a tremor through the whole craft, and then a moment of nastygrinding as the steel hull scraped the rock wall. I expectedmomentarily the inrush of waters that would seal our doom; butpresently from below came the welcome word that all was well.
In another fifty yards there was a second turn, this time toward theleft! but it was more of a gentle curve, and we took it withouttrouble. After that it was plain sailing, though as far as I couldknow, there might be most anything ahead of us, and my nerves strainedto the snapping-point every instant. After the second turn the channelran comparatively straight for between one hundred and fifty and twohundred yards. The waters grew suddenly lighter, and my spirits roseaccordingly. I shouted down to those below that I saw daylight ahead,and a great shout of thanksgiving reverberated through the ship. Amoment later we emerged into sunlit water, and immediately I raised theperiscope and looked about me upon the strangest landscape I had everseen.
We were in the middle of a broad and now sluggish river the banks ofwhich were lined by giant, arboraceous ferns, raising their mightyfronds fifty, one hundred, two hundred feet into the quiet air. Closeby us something rose to the surface of the river and dashed at theperiscope. I had a vision of wide, distended jaws, and then all wasblotted out. A shiver ran down into the tower as the thing closed uponthe periscope. A moment later it was gone, and I could see again.Above the trees there soared into my vision a huge thing on batlikewings--a creature large as a large whale, but fashioned more after theorder of a lizard. Then again something charged the periscope andblotted out the mirror. I will confess that I was almost gasping forbreath as I gave the commands to emerge. Into what sort of strangeland had fate guided us?
The instant the deck was awash, I opened the conning-tower hatch andstepped out. In another minute the deck-hatch lifted, and those whowere not on duty below streamed up the ladder, Olson bringing Nobsunder one arm. For several minutes no one spoke; I think they musteach have been as overcome by awe as was I. All about us was a floraand fauna as strange and wonderful to us as might have been those upona distant planet had we suddenly been miraculously transported throughether to an unknown world. Even the grass upon the nearer bank wasunearthly--lush and high it grew, and each blade bore upon its tip abrilliant flower--violet or yellow or carmine or blue--making asgorgeous a sward as human imagination might conceive. But the life!It teemed. The tall, fernlike trees were alive with monkeys, snakes,and lizards. Huge insects hummed and buzzed hither and thither. Mightyforms could be seen moving upon the ground in the thick forest, whilethe bosom of the river wriggled with living things, and above flappedthe wings of gigantic creatures such as we are taught have been extinctthroughout countless ages.
"Look!" cried Olson. "Would you look at the giraffe comin' up out o'the bottom of the say?" We looked in the direction he pointed and sawa long, glossy neck surmounted by a small head rising above the surfaceof the river. Presently the back of the creature was exposed, brownand glossy as the water dripped from it. It turned its eyes upon us,opened its lizard-like mouth, emitted a shrill hiss and came for us.The thing must have been sixteen or eighteen feet in length and closelyresembled pictures I had seen of restored plesiosaurs of the lowerJurassic. It charged us as savagely as a mad bull, and one would havethought it intended to destroy and devour the mighty U-boat, as Iverily believe it did intend.
We were moving slowly up the river as the creature bore down upon uswith distended jaws. The long neck was far outstretched, and the fourflippers with which it swam were working with powerful strokes,carrying it forward at a rapid pace. When it reached the craft's side,the jaws closed upon one of the stanchions of the deck rail and tore itfrom its socket as though it had been a toothpick stuck in putty. Atthis exhibition of titanic strength I think we all simultaneouslystepped backward, and Bradley drew his revolver and fired. The bulletstruck the thing in the neck, just above its body; but instead ofdisabling it, merely increased its rage. Its hissing rose to a shrillscream as it raised half its body out of water onto the sloping sidesof the hull of the U-33 and endeavored to scramble upon the deck todevour us. A dozen shots rang out as we who were armed drew ourpistols and fired at the thing; but though struck several times, itshowed no signs of succumbing and only floundered farther aboard thesubmarine.
I had noticed that the girl had come on deck and was standing not farbehind me, and when I saw the danger to which we were all exposed, Iturned and forced her toward the hatch. We had not spoken for somedays, and we did not speak now; but she gave me a disdainful look,which was quite as eloquent as words, and broke loose from my grasp. Isaw I could do nothing with her unless I exerted force, and so I turnedwith my back toward her that I might be in a position to shield herfrom the strange reptile should it really succeed in reaching the deck;and as I did so I saw the thing raise one flipper over the rail, dartits head forward and with the quickness of lightning seize upon one ofthe boches. I ran forward, discharging my pistol into the creature'sbody in an effort to force it to relinquish its prey; but I might asprofitably have shot at the sun.
Shrieking and screaming, the German was dragged from the deck, and themoment the reptile was clear of the boat, it dived beneath the surfaceof the water with its terrified prey. I think we were all more or lessshaken by the frightfulness of the tragedy--until Olson remarked thatthe balance of power now rested where it belonged. Following the deathof Benson we had been nine and nine--nine Germans and nine "Allies," aswe called ourselves, now there were but eight Germans. We nevercounted the girl on either side, I suppose because she was a girl,though we knew well enough now that she was ours.
And so Olson's remark helped to clear the atmosphere for the Allies atleast, and then our attention was once more directed toward the river,for around us there had sprung up a perfect bedlam of screams andhisses and a seething caldron of hideous reptiles, devoid of fear andfilled only with hunger and with rage. They clambered, squirmed andwriggled to the deck, forcing us steadily backward, though we emptiedour pistols into them. There were all sorts and conditions of horriblethings--huge, hideous, grotesque, mons
trous--a veritable Mesozoicnightmare. I saw that the girl was gotten below as quickly as possible,and she took Nobs with her--poor Nobs had nearly barked his head off;and I think, too, that for the first time since his littlest puppyhoodhe had known fear; nor can I blame him. After the girl I sent Bradleyand most of the Allies and then the Germans who were on deck--vonSchoenvorts being still in irons below.
The creatures were approaching perilously close before I droppedthrough the hatchway and slammed down the cover. Then I went into thetower and ordered full speed ahead, hoping to distance the fearsomethings; but it was useless. Not only could any of them easilyoutdistance the U-33, but the further upstream we progressed thegreater the number of our besiegers, until fearful of navigating astrange river at high speed, I gave orders to reduce and moved slowlyand majestically through the plunging, hissing mass. I was mighty gladthat our entrance into the interior of Caprona had been inside asubmarine rather than in any other form of vessel. I could readilyunderstand how it might have been that Caprona had been invaded in thepast by venturesome navigators without word of it ever reaching theoutside world, for I can assure you that only by submarine could manpass up that great sluggish river, alive.
We proceeded up the river for some forty miles before darkness overtookus. I was afraid to submerge and lie on the bottom overnight for fearthat the mud might be deep enough to hold us, and as we could not holdwith the anchor, I ran in close to shore, and in a brief interim ofattack from the reptiles we made fast to a large tree. We also dippedup some of the river water and found it, though quite warm, a littlesweeter than before. We had food enough, and with the water we were allquite refreshed; but we missed fresh meat. It had been weeks, now,since we had tasted it, and the sight of the reptiles gave me anidea--that a steak or two from one of them might not be bad eating. SoI went on deck with a rifle, twenty of which were aboard the U-33. Atsight of me a huge thing charged and climbed to the deck. I retreatedto the top of the conning-tower, and when it had raised its mighty bulkto the level of the little deck on which I stood, I let it have abullet right between the eyes.
The thing stopped then and looked at me a moment as much as to say:"Why this thing has a stinger! I must be careful." And then it reachedout its long neck and opened its mighty jaws and grabbed for me; but Iwasn't there. I had tumbled backward into the tower, and I mighty nearkilled myself doing it. When I glanced up, that little head on the endof its long neck was coming straight down on top of me, and once more Itumbled into greater safety, sprawling upon the floor of the centrale.
Olson was looking up, and seeing what was poking about in the tower,ran for an ax; nor did he hesitate a moment when he returned with one,but sprang up the ladder and commenced chopping away at that hideousface. The thing didn't have sufficient brainpan to entertain more thana single idea at once. Though chopped and hacked, and with a bulletholebetween its eyes, it still persisted madly in its attempt to get insidethe tower and devour Olson, though its body was many times the diameterof the hatch; nor did it cease its efforts until after Olson hadsucceeded in decapitating it. Then the two men went on deck throughthe main hatch, and while one kept watch, the other cut a hind quarteroff Plesiosaurus Olsoni, as Bradley dubbed the thing. Meantime Olsoncut off the long neck, saying that it would make fine soup. By thetime we had cleared away the blood and refuse in the tower, the cookhad juicy steaks and a steaming broth upon the electric stove, and thearoma arising from P. Olsoni filled us all with a hitherto unfeltadmiration for him and all his kind.
The Land That Time Forgot Page 4