The Lost Continent

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  6

  Victory was nowhere in sight. Alone, I floated upon the bosom of theThames. In that brief instant I believe that I suffered more mentalanguish than I have crowded into all the balance of my life before orsince. A few hours before, I had been wishing that I might be rid ofher, and now that she was gone I would have given my life to have herback again.

  Wearily I turned to swim about the spot where she had disappeared,hoping that she might rise once at least, and I would be given theopportunity to save her, and, as I turned, the water boiled before myface and her head shot up before me. I was on the point of strikingout to seize her, when a happy smile illumined her features.

  "You are not dead!" she cried. "I have been searching the bottom foryou. I was sure that the blow she gave you must have disabled you,"and she glanced about for the lioness.

  "She has gone?" she asked.

  "Dead," I replied.

  "The blow you struck her with the thing you call rifle stunned her,"she explained, "and then I swam in close enough to get my knife intoher heart."

  Ah, such a girl! I could not but wonder what one of our ownPan-American women would have done under like circumstances. But then,of course, they have not been trained by stern necessity to cope withthe emergencies and dangers of savage primeval life.

  Along the bank we had just quitted, a score of lions paced to and fro,growling menacingly. We could not return, and we struck out for theopposite shore. I am a strong swimmer, and had no doubt as to myability to cross the river, but I was not so sure about Victory, so Iswam close behind her, to be ready to give her assistance should sheneed it.

  She did not, however, reaching the opposite bank as fresh, apparently,as when she entered the water. Victory is a wonder. Each day that wewere together brought new proofs of it. Nor was it her courage orvitality only which amazed me. She had a head on those shapelyshoulders of hers, and dignity! My, but she could be regal when shechose!

  She told me that the lions were fewer upon this side of the river, butthat there were many wolves, running in great packs later in the year.Now they were north somewhere, and we should have little to fear fromthem, though we might meet with a few.

  My first concern was to take my weapons apart and dry them, which wasrather difficult in the face of the fact that every rag about me wasdrenched. But finally, thanks to the sun and much rubbing, Isucceeded, though I had no oil to lubricate them.

  We ate some wild berries and roots that Victory found, and then we setoff again down the river, keeping an eye open for game on one side andthe launch on the other, for I thought that Delcarte, who would be thenatural leader during my absence, might run up the Thames in search ofme.

  The balance of that day we sought in vain for game or for the launch,and when night came we lay down, our stomachs empty, to sleep beneaththe stars. We were entirely unprotected from attack from wild beasts,and for this reason I remained awake most of the night, on guard. Butnothing approached us, though I could hear the lions roaring across theriver, and once I thought I heard the howl of a beast north of us--itmight have been a wolf.

  Altogether, it was a most unpleasant night, and I determined then thatif we were forced to sleep out again that I should provide some sort ofshelter which would protect us from attack while we slept.

  Toward morning I dozed, and the sun was well up when Victory aroused meby gently shaking my shoulder.

  "Antelope!" she whispered in my ear, and, as I raised my head, shepointed up-river. Crawling to my knees, I looked in the direction sheindicated, to see a buck standing upon a little knoll some two hundredyards from us. There was good cover between the animal and me, and so,though I might have hit him at two hundred yards, I preferred to crawlcloser to him and make sure of the meat we both so craved.

  I had covered about fifty yards of the distance, and the beast wasstill feeding peacefully, so I thought that I would make even surer ofa hit by going ahead another fifty yards, when the animal suddenlyraised his head and looked away, up-river. His whole attitudeproclaimed that he was startled by something beyond him that I couldnot see.

  Realizing that he might break and run and that I should then probablymiss him entirely, I raised my rifle to my shoulder. But even as I didso the animal leaped into the air, and simultaneously there was a soundof a shot from beyond the knoll.

  For an instant I was dumbfounded. Had the report come from down-river,I should have instantly thought that one of my own men had fired. Butcoming from up-river it puzzled me considerably. Who could there bewith firearms in primitive England other than we of the Coldwater?

  Victory was directly behind me, and I motioned for her to lie down, asI did, behind the bush from which I had been upon the point of firingat the antelope. We could see that the buck was quite dead, and fromour hiding place we waited to discover the identity of his slayer whenthe latter should approach and claim his kill.

  We had not long to wait, and when I saw the head and shoulders of a manappear above the crest of the knoll, I sprang to my feet, with aheartfelt cry of joy, for it was Delcarte.

  At the sound of my voice, Delcarte half raised his rifle in readinessfor the attack of an enemy, but a moment later he recognized me, andwas coming rapidly to meet us. Behind him was Snider. They both wereastounded to see me upon the north bank of the river, and much more soat the sight of my companion.

  Then I introduced them to Victory, and told them that she was queen ofEngland. They thought, at first, that I was joking. But when I hadrecounted my adventures and they realized that I was in earnest, theybelieved me.

  They told me that they had followed me inshore when I had not returnedfrom the hunt, that they had met the men of the elephant country, andhad had a short and one-sided battle with the fellows. And thatafterward they had returned to the launch with a prisoner, from whomthey had learned that I had probably been captured by the men of thelion country.

  With the prisoner as a guide they had set off up-river in search of me,but had been much delayed by motor trouble, and had finally campedafter dark a half mile above the spot where Victory and I had spent thenight. They must have passed us in the dark, and why I did not hearthe sound of the propeller I do not know, unless it passed me at a timewhen the lions were making an unusually earsplitting din upon theopposite side.

  Taking the antelope with us, we all returned to the launch, where wefound Taylor as delighted to see me alive again as Delcarte had been.I cannot say truthfully that Snider evinced much enthusiasm at myrescue.

  Taylor had found the ingredients for chemical fuel, and the distillingof them had, with the motor trouble, accounted for their delay insetting out after me.

  The prisoner that Delcarte and Snider had taken was a powerful youngfellow from the elephant country. Notwithstanding the fact that theyhad all assured him to the contrary, he still could not believe that wewould not kill him.

  He assured us that his name was Thirty-six, and, as he could not countabove ten, I am sure that he had no conception of the correct meaningof the word, and that it may have been handed down to him either fromthe military number of an ancestor who had served in the English ranksduring the Great War, or that originally it was the number of somefamous regiment with which a forbear fought.

  Now that we were reunited, we held a council to determine what coursewe should pursue in the immediate future. Snider was still for settingout to sea and returning to Pan-America, but the better judgment ofDelcarte and Taylor ridiculed the suggestion--we should not have liveda fortnight.

  To remain in England, constantly menaced by wild beasts and men equallyas wild, seemed about as bad. I suggested that we cross the Channeland ascertain if we could not discover a more enlightened and civilizedpeople upon the continent. I was sure that some trace of the ancientculture and greatness of Europe must remain. Germany, probably, wouldbe much as it was during the twentieth century, for, in common withmost Pan-Americans, I was positive that Germany had been victorious inthe Great War.


  Snider demurred at the suggestion. He said that it was bad enough tohave come this far. He did not want to make it worse by going to thecontinent. The outcome of it was that I finally lost my patience, andtold him that from then on he would do what I thought best--that Iproposed to assume command of the party, and that they might allconsider themselves under my orders, as much so as though we were stillaboard the Coldwater and in Pan-American waters.

  Delcarte and Taylor immediately assured me that they had not for aninstant assumed anything different, and that they were as ready tofollow and obey me here as they would be upon the other side of thirty.

  Snider said nothing, but he wore a sullen scowl. And I wished then, asI had before, and as I did to a much greater extent later, that fatehad not decreed that he should have chanced to be a member of thelaunch's party upon that memorable day when last we quitted theColdwater.

  Victory, who was given a voice in our councils, was all for going tothe continent, or anywhere else, in fact, where she might see newsights and experience new adventures.

  "Afterward we can come back to Grabritin," she said, "and if Buckinghamis not dead and we can catch him away from his men and kill him, then Ican return to my people, and we can all live in peace and happiness."

  She spoke of killing Buckingham with no greater concern than one mightevince in the contemplated destruction of a sheep; yet she was neithercruel nor vindictive. In fact, Victory is a very sweet and womanlywoman. But human life is of small account beyond thirty--a legacy fromthe bloody days when thousands of men perished in the trenches betweenthe rising and the setting of a sun, when they laid them lengthwise inthese same trenches and sprinkled dirt over them, when the Germanscorded their corpses like wood and set fire to them, when women andchildren and old men were butchered, and great passenger ships weretorpedoed without warning.

  Thirty-six, finally assured that we did not intend slaying him, was askeen to accompany us as was Victory.

  The crossing to the continent was uneventful, its monotony beingrelieved, however, by the childish delight of Victory and Thirty-six inthe novel experience of riding safely upon the bosom of the water, andof being so far from land.

  With the possible exception of Snider, the little party appeared in thebest of spirits, laughing and joking, or interestedly discussing thepossibilities which the future held for us: what we should find uponthe continent, and whether the inhabitants would be civilized orbarbarian peoples.

  Victory asked me to explain the difference between the two, and when Ihad tried to do so as clearly as possible, she broke into a gay littlelaugh.

  "Oh," she cried, "then I am a barbarian!"

  I could not but laugh, too, as I admitted that she was, indeed, abarbarian. She was not offended, taking the matter as a huge joke.But some time thereafter she sat in silence, apparently deep inthought. Finally she looked up at me, her strong white teeth gleamingbehind her smiling lips.

  "Should you take that thing you call 'razor,'" she said, "and cut thehair from the face of Thirty-six, and exchange garments with him, youwould be the barbarian and Thirty-six the civilized man. There is noother difference between you, except your weapons. Clothe you in awolfskin, give you a knife and a spear, and set you down in the woodsof Grabritin--of what service would your civilization be to you?"

  Delcarte and Taylor smiled at her reply, but Thirty-six and Sniderlaughed uproariously. I was not surprised at Thirty-six, but I thoughtthat Snider laughed louder than the occasion warranted. As a matter offact, Snider, it seemed to me, was taking advantage of everyopportunity, however slight, to show insubordination, and I determinedthen that at the first real breach of discipline I should take actionthat would remind Snider, ever after, that I was still his commandingofficer.

  I could not help but notice that his eyes were much upon Victory, and Idid not like it, for I knew the type of man he was. But as it wouldnot be necessary ever to leave the girl alone with him I felt noapprehension for her safety.

  After the incident of the discussion of barbarians I thought thatVictory's manner toward me changed perceptibly. She held aloof fromme, and when Snider took his turn at the wheel, sat beside him, uponthe pretext that she wished to learn how to steer the launch. Iwondered if she had guessed the man's antipathy for me, and was seekinghis company solely for the purpose of piquing me.

  Snider was, too, taking full advantage of his opportunity. Often heleaned toward the girl to whisper in her ear, and he laughed much,which was unusual with Snider.

  Of course, it was nothing at all to me; yet, for some unaccountablereason, the sight of the two of them sitting there so close to oneanother and seeming to be enjoying each other's society to such adegree irritated me tremendously, and put me in such a bad humor that Itook no pleasure whatsoever in the last few hours of the crossing.

  We aimed to land near the site of ancient Ostend. But when we nearedthe coast we discovered no indication of any human habitationswhatever, let alone a city. After we had landed, we found the samehowling wilderness about us that we had discovered on the British Isle.There was no slightest indication that civilized man had ever set afoot upon that portion of the continent of Europe.

  Although I had feared as much, since our experience in England, I couldnot but own to a feeling of marked disappointment, and to the gravestfears of the future, which induced a mental depression that was in noway dissipated by the continued familiarity between Victory and Snider.

  I was angry with myself that I permitted that matter to affect me as ithad. I did not wish to admit to myself that I was angry with thisuncultured little savage, that it made the slightest difference to mewhat she did or what she did not do, or that I could so lower myself asto feel personal enmity towards a common sailor. And yet, to behonest, I was doing both.

  Finding nothing to detain us about the spot where Ostend once hadstood, we set out up the coast in search of the mouth of the RiverRhine, which I purposed ascending in search of civilized man. It wasmy intention to explore the Rhine as far up as the launch would takeus. If we found no civilization there we would return to the NorthSea, continue up the coast to the Elbe, and follow that river and thecanals of Berlin. Here, at least, I was sure that we should find whatwe sought--and, if not, then all Europe had reverted to barbarism.

  The weather remained fine, and we made excellent progress, buteverywhere along the Rhine we met with the same disappointment--no signof civilized man, in fact, no sign of man at all.

  I was not enjoying the exploration of modern Europe as I hadanticipated--I was unhappy. Victory seemed changed, too. I hadenjoyed her company at first, but since the trip across the Channel Ihad held aloof from her.

  Her chin was in the air most of the time, and yet I rather think thatshe regretted her friendliness with Snider, for I noticed that sheavoided him entirely. He, on the contrary, emboldened by her formerfriendliness, sought every opportunity to be near her. I should haveliked nothing better than a reasonably good excuse to punch his head;yet, paradoxically, I was ashamed of myself for harboring him any illwill. I realized that there was something the matter with me, but Idid not know what it was.

  Matters remained thus for several days, and we continued our journey upthe Rhine. At Cologne, I had hoped to find some reassuringindications, but there was no Cologne. And as there had been no othercities along the river up to that point, the devastation was infinitelygreater than time alone could have wrought. Great guns, bombs, andmines must have leveled every building that man had raised, and thennature, unhindered, had covered the ghastly evidence of human depravitywith her beauteous mantle of verdure. Splendid trees reared theirstately tops where splendid cathedrals once had reared their domes, andsweet wild flowers blossomed in simple serenity in soil that once wasdrenched with human blood.

  Nature had reclaimed what man had once stolen from her and defiled. Aherd of zebras grazed where once the German kaiser may have reviewedhis troops. An antelope rested peacefully in a bed of daisies where,perhaps, t
wo hundred years ago a big gun belched its terror-ladenmessages of death, of hate, of destruction against the works of man andGod alike.

  We were in need of fresh meat, yet I hesitated to shatter the quiet andpeaceful serenity of the view with the crack of a rifle and the deathof one of those beautiful creatures before us. But it had to bedone--we must eat. I left the work to Delcarte, however, and in amoment we had two antelope and the landscape to ourselves.

  After eating, we boarded the launch and continued up the river. Fortwo days we passed through a primeval wilderness. In the afternoon ofthe second day we landed upon the west bank of the river, and, leavingSnider and Thirty-six to guard Victory and the launch, Delcarte,Taylor, and I set out after game.

  We tramped away from the river for upwards of an hour beforediscovering anything, and then only a small red deer, which Taylorbrought down with a neat shot of two hundred yards. It was getting toolate to proceed farther, so we rigged a sling, and the two men carriedthe deer back toward the launch while I walked a hundred yards ahead,in the hope of bagging something further for our larder.

  We had covered about half the distance to the river, when I suddenlycame face to face with a man. He was as primitive and uncouth inappearance as the Grabritins--a shaggy, unkempt savage, clothed in ashirt of skin cured with the head on, the latter surmounting his ownhead to form a bonnet, and giving to him a most fearful and ferociousaspect.

  The fellow was armed with a long spear and a club, the latter danglingdown his back from a leathern thong about his neck. His feet wereincased in hide sandals.

  At sight of me, he halted for an instant, then turned and dove into theforest, and, though I called reassuringly to him in English he did notreturn nor did I again see him.

  The sight of the wild man raised my hopes once more that elsewhere wemight find men in a higher state of civilization--it was the society ofcivilized man that I craved--and so, with a lighter heart, I continuedon toward the river and the launch.

  I was still some distance ahead of Delcarte and Taylor, when I came insight of the Rhine again. But I came to the water's edge before Inoticed that anything was amiss with the party we had left there a fewhours before.

  My first intimation of disaster was the absence of the launch from itsformer moorings. And then, a moment later--I discovered the body of aman lying upon the bank. Running toward it, I saw that it wasThirty-six, and as I stopped and raised the Grabritin's head in myarms, I heard a faint moan break from his lips. He was not dead, butthat he was badly injured was all too evident.

  Delcarte and Taylor came up a moment later, and the three of us workedover the fellow, hoping to revive him that he might tell us what hadhappened, and what had become of the others. My first thought wasprompted by the sight I had recently had of the savage native. Thelittle party had evidently been surprised, and in the attack Thirty-sixhad been wounded and the others taken prisoners. The thought wasalmost like a physical blow in the face--it stunned me. Victory in thehands of these abysmal brutes! It was frightful. I almost shook poorThirty-six in my efforts to revive him.

  I explained my theory to the others, and then Delcarte shattered it bya single movement of the hand. He drew aside the lion's skin thatcovered half of the Grabritin's breast, revealing a neat, round hole inThirty-six's chest--a hole that could have been made by no other weaponthan a rifle.

  "Snider!" I exclaimed. Delcarte nodded. At about the same time theeyelids of the wounded man fluttered, and raised. He looked up at us,and very slowly the light of consciousness returned to his eyes.

  "What happened, Thirty-six?" I asked him.

  He tried to reply, but the effort caused him to cough, bringing about ahemorrhage of the lungs and again he fell back exhausted. For severallong minutes he lay as one dead, then in an almost inaudible whisper hespoke.

  "Snider--" He paused, tried to speak again, raised a hand, and pointeddown-river. "They--went--back," and then he shuddered convulsively anddied.

  None of us voiced his belief. But I think they were all alike: Victoryand Snider had stolen the launch, and deserted us.