Chapter 9

Who Could Have Foreseen It?

A dreadful thing has happened to us. Who could have foreseen it? I cannot foresee any end to our troubles. It may be that we are condemned to spend our whole lives in this strange, inaccessible place. I am still so confused that I can hardly think clearly of the facts of the present or of the chances of the future. Still I have as companions three remarkable men, men of great brain-power and of unshaken courage. There lies our one and only hope. It is only when I look on the untroubled faces of my comrades that I see some glimmer through the darkness.

Let me give you, with as much detail as I can, the sequence of events which have led us to this catastrophe. When I finished my last letter I stated that we were within seven miles from an enormous line of ruddy cliffs, which encircled, beyond all doubt, the plateau of which Professor Challenger spoke. Their height, as we approached them, seemed to me in some places to be greater than he had stated. There was no indication of any life that we could see.

That night we pitched our camp immediately under the cliff. Close to us was the high thin rock, the top of it being level with the plateau, but with a great gap between them. Next to it grew one high tree.

“It was on that,” said Professor Challenger, pointing to this tree, “that the pterodactyl was sitting before I shot him. I am inclined to think that a good mountaineer like myself could ascend the rock to the top, though he would, of course, be no nearer to the plateau.”

As Challenger spoke of his pterodactyl I glanced at Professor Summerlee, and for the first time there was no sneer on his lips, but, on the contrary, a look of excitement and amazement. Challenger saw it too.

“Of course,” said he, with his clumsy and ponderous sarcasm, “Professor Summerlee will understand that when I speak of a pterodactyl I mean a stork… only it is the stork which has no feathers, a leathery skin, membranous wings, and teeth in its jaws.” He grinned and blinked and bowed until his colleague turned and walked away.

In the morning, after a breakfast of coffee and manioc – we had to be economical of our stores – we started discussing how to ascend to the plateau above us.

“I need not say,” said our leader, “that on the occasion of my last visit I exhausted every means of climbing the cliff. I had none of the appliances of a rock-climber with me, but I have taken the precaution to bring them now. With their help I could climb that rock, but so long as the main cliff overhangs, it is vain to try ascending that. But it is certain that there is a point where an ascent is possible.”

“How do you know that, sir?” asked Summerlee, sharply.

“Because my predecessor, the American Maple White, actually found it. How could he have seen the monster which he sketched in his notebook?”

“I admit your plateau, because I have seen it; but I have not as yet satisfied myself that it contains any form of life,” said the stubborn Summerlee.

And then, to our amazement, Challenger seized Summerlee by the neck, he tilted his face into the air. “Now sir!” he shouted, hoarse with excitement. “Do I help you to realize that the plateau contains some animal life?”

I have said that a thick fringe of green overhung the edge of the cliff. Out of this there had emerged a black, glistening object. As it came slowly forth and overhung the chasm, we saw that it was a very large snake with a peculiar flat, spade-like head. It wavered and quivered above us for a minute, then it slowly drew inwards and disappeared.

Summerlee had been so interested that he had stood unresisting while Challenger tilted his head into the air. Now he shook his colleague off and came back to his dignity.

“I should be glad, Professor Challenger,” said he, “if you could see your way to make any remarks without seizing me by the chin.”

“But there is life upon the plateau all the same,” his colleague replied in triumph. “And now I think that we cannot do better than break up our camp and travel to the west until we find some means of ascent.”

The ground at the foot of the cliff was rocky and broken so that the going was slow and difficult. Suddenly we came, however, on something which cheered our hearts. It was an old camp, with several empty Chicago meat tins and a bottle labeled “Brandy”.

“Not mine,” said Challenger. “It must be Maple White’s.”

Lord John had been gazing curiously at a great tree-fern which overshadowed the encampment. “Look at this,” said he. “I believe it is a sign-post.”

A slip of hard wood had been nailed to the tree pointing to the west.

“Certainly a sign-post,” said Challenger. “What else? He has left this sign so that any party which follows him may know the way he has taken. Perhaps we shall find some other signs.”

Beneath the cliff there grew lots of high bamboo. Many of these stems were twenty feet high, with sharp, strong tops. Suddenly my eye was caught by the gleam of something white. I came closer and found myself gazing at a fleshless skull. The whole skeleton was there, but the skull lay some feet nearer to the open.

We cleared the spot and were able to study the details of this old tragedy. Only a few shreds of clothes could still be distinguished, but it was very clear that the dead man was a European. A gold watch by Hudson, of New York, and a chain which held a stylographic pen, lay among the bones. There was also a silver cigarette-case. The state of the metal seemed to show that the catastrophe had occurred no great time before.

“Who can he be?” asked Lord John. “Poor man! Every bone in his body seems to be broken.”

“And the bamboo grows through his ribs,” said Summerlee. “It is a fast-growing plant, but it is surely inconceivable that this body could have been here while the canes grew to be twenty feet in length.”

“As to the man’s identity,” said Professor Challenger, “I have no doubt who he is. Maple White was not alone all the time. It had a companion, an American named James Colver. I think, therefore, that there can be no doubt that we are now looking at the remains of this James Colver.”

“And we know how he met his death,” said Lord John. “He has fallen from the top, and so been impaled.”

We stood silently round these shattered remains and realized the truth of Lord John Roxton’s words. Undoubtedly he had fallen from above. But had he fallen? Had it been an accident? Or…

We moved off in silence, and continued to coast round the line of cliffs. In five miles we saw no rift or break. And then suddenly we saw something which filled us with new hope. In a hollow of the rock, there was drawn an arrow in chalk, pointing still to the west.

“Maple White again,” said Professor Challenger.

We had proceeded some five more miles when again we saw a white arrow on the rocks, pointing higher up. We came to a solemn place, the walls were so gigantic and the slit of blue sky so narrow, so that only a shadowy light penetrated to the bottom. We had had no food for many hours, and were very tired with the journey, but our nerves were too strung to allow us to relax. Suddenly the quick eyes of Lord John fell on what we were seeking. High up above our heads, there was a hole. Surely it could only be the opening of a cave. Here was the point, where Maple White and his ill-fated companion had made their ascent. We were too excited to return to the camp and made our first exploration at once.

Lord John took out an electric torch and entered the cave and we followed at his heels. First the cave ran straight into the rock. Finally we found ourselves climbing upon our hands and knees. Suddenly an exclamation broke from Lord Roxton.

“It’s blocked!” said he. “The roof has fallen in!”

It was evident that the obstacle was far beyond any efforts which we could make to remove it. The road by which Maple White had ascended was no longer available.

Too much depressed to speak, we made our way back to the camp. And then something terrible happened. We had gathered in a little group, when a huge rock rolled suddenly downwards. We could not see where the rock had come, but our half-breed servants said that it must therefore have fallen from the summit. Looking upwards, we could see no sign of movement above us. There could be little doubt, however, that the stone was aimed at us, so the incident surely pointed to humanity… upon the plateau.

Our minds were full of this new development. The situation was difficult enough before, but if the obstacles of Nature were increased by the opposition of man, then our case was a hopeless one. And yet, as we looked up at that beautiful world only a few hundreds of feet above our heads, nobody thought of returning to London until we had explored it.

On discussing the situation, we determined that our best course was to continue to coast round the plateau in the hope of finding some other means of reaching the top. At the worst, then, we should be back in a few days at our starting-point.

We noticed a considerable change both in the temperature and in the vegetation and got rid of some of that horrible insects.

That night a great experience awaited us, and one which for ever set at rest any doubt. What occurred was this. Lord John had shot an ajouti – which is a small, pig-like animal – and we were cooking it on our fire. 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 appeared something with a sound like an aeroplane. The whole group of us were covered for a second by leathery wings, and I saw a long, snake-like neck, a fierce, red, greedy eye, and a great beak, filled, to my amazement, with little, gleaming teeth. The next second it was gone… and so was our dinner. For a moment the monster wings covered the stars, and then it vanished behind the cliff. We all sat in amazed silence round the fire. It was Summerlee who was the first to speak.

“Professor Challenger,” said he, in a solemn voice, “I owe you an apology. Sir, I hope that you will forget what is past.”

The two men for the first time shook hands. We have gained so much 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 on the plateau it was not in abundance, for we didn’t see any other prehistoric animals during the next three days. We continued to walk around the cliffs. However, in no place did we find any point where they could be ascended.

On the sixth day we completed our first circuit of the cliffs, and found ourselves back at the first camp, beside the isolated rock.

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. No wonder that we looked gloomily at each other that night.

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.

“Eureka!” he cried, his teeth shining through his beard. “Gentlemen, you may congratulate me and we may congratulate each other. The problem is solved.”

And he pointed to the spire-like pinnacle upon our right.

We know that it could be climbed. But a horrible gap 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 our leader unpacked his climbing accessories. John was an experienced mountaineer, and Summerlee had done some climbing at various times. And my strength and activity may have made up for my lack of experience.

It was not a very difficult task, although there were moments which made my hair move upon my head. When we found ourselves on the small platform, some twenty-five feet each way, which formed the summit, we saw a great view. The whole Brazilian plain seemed to lie beneath us. I could 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 placed one arm round the trunk of the tree and saw the small dark figures of our servants, looking up at us.

“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. “It’s a beech!” I cried.

“Exactly,” said Summerlee. “And this tree will be our saviour.”

“My God!” cried Lord John, “a bridge!”

“Exactly, my friends, a bridge! There is always a way out.”

It was certainly a brilliant idea. The tree was a good sixty feet in height, and if it only fell the right way it would easily cross the chasm. Challenger handed the axe to me.

So under his direction I cut such gashes in the sides of the trees as would ensure that it should fall as we desired. It had already a strong, natural tilt in the direction of the plateau, so that the matter was not difficult. In a little over an hour there was a loud crack and the tree crashed over, for one terrible second we all thought it was over. But it balanced itself, a few inches from the edge, and there was our bridge to the unknown.

All of us, without a word, shook hands with Professor Challenger.

“I claim the honour,” said he, “to be the first to cross to the unknown land…”

He had approached the bridge when Lord John laid his hand on his shoulder.

“My dear friend,” said he, “I really cannot allow it. There may be a tribe of cannibals waiting for lunch-time among those very bushes. Malone and I will go down again and fetch up the four rifles, together with Gomez and the other. One man can then go across and the rest will cover him with guns, until he sees that it is safe for the whole crowd to come along.”

Summerlee and I were of one mind that Lord John was our leader when such practical details were in question. Within an hour we had brought up the rifles and a shot-gun. The half-breeds had ascended also, and under Lord John’s orders they had carried up a bale of provisions in case our first exploration should be a long one.

“Now, Challenger, if you really insist upon being the first man in,” said Lord John, when every preparation was complete.

“I don’t need your permission,” said the angry Professor.

It didn’t take Challenger long to cross the chasm and he was soon at the other side. He waved his arms in the air.

“At last!” he cried; “at last!”

Summerlee was the second. I came next, and tried hard not to look down into the horrible gulf over which I was passing. As to Lord John, he walked across… actually walked! He must have nerves of iron.

And there we were, the four of us, upon the dreamland, the lost world, of Maple White. It seemed the moment of our supreme triumph. Who could have guessed that it was the prelude to our supreme disaster?

We had turned away from the edge, when there came a frightful crash from behind us. We rushed back – the bridge was gone!

Far down we saw our beech tree broken to pieces. Then we saw Gomez on the opposite side, with a face convulsed with hatred and with the mad joy of revenge.

“Lord Roxton!” he shouted. “Lord John Roxton!”

“Well,” said our companion, “here I am.”

A shriek of laughter came across the abyss.

“Yes, there you are, you English dog, and there you will remain! I have waited and waited, and now has come my chance. We nearly killed you with a stone at the cave,” he cried; “but this is better. It is slower and more terrible. As you lie dying, think of Lopez, whom you shot five years ago on the Putomayo River. I am his brother, and I will die happy now, for his memory has been avenged.” A furious hand was shaken at us, and then all was quiet. The half-breed was descending on the farther side of the pinnacle. But before he could reach the ground, there was a single crack of Lord John’s rifle, and, although we saw nothing, we heard the scream and then the distant sound of the falling body. Roxton came back to us with a face of granite.

“I have been so blind,” said he, bitterly, “It’s my fault that has brought you all into this trouble. I should have remembered that these people have long memories.”

“What about the other one? It took two of them to push that tree over the edge.”

“I let him go. He may have had no part in it. Perhaps it would have been better if I had killed him.”

We were still discussing the whole situation, when a singular scene in the plain below caught our attention.

A man in white clothes, who could only be the surviving half-breed, was running. And behind him, was a huge figure of Zambo, our devoted negro. Finally he reached him. A moment afterwards Zambo rose, and then, waving his hand joyously to us, came running in our direction. The white figure lay motionless.

Our two traitors were dead, but we were still in trouble. By no possible means could we get back to Zambo. We had been natives of the world, now we were natives of the plateau. The two things were separate and apart.

For the moment we could only sit among the bushes in patience and wait the coming of Zambo. Presently his honest black face topped the rocks and his Herculean figure emerged upon the top of the pinnacle.

“What I do now?” he cried. “You tell me and I do it.”

One thing only was clear. He was our one link with the outside world. On no account he must leave us.

“No, no!” he cried. “I not leave you. You always find me here. But can’t keep Indians. Too much Curupuri and they go home.”

“Make them wait till tomorrow, Zambo,” I shouted; “then I can send letter back by them.”

“Very good, sir! I promise they wait till tomorrow,” said the negro. “But what I do for you now?”

First of all, under our directions, he threw one end of the rope across the chasm to us. He then fastened his end of the rope to the package of supplies which had been carried up, and we were able to drag it across. This gave us the means of life for at least a week, even if we found nothing else. Finally he descended and carried up two other packets of mixed goods – a box of ammunition and a number of other things, all of which we got across by throwing our rope to him and hauling it back. It was evening when he at last climbed down. He promised us to keep the Indians till next morning.

And so I have spent nearly the whole of this our first night on the plateau writing up our experiences by the light of a single candle-lantern.

We camped at the very edge of the cliff and decided not to light fire or to make any unnecessary sound.

Tomorrow (or today because it is already dawn as I write) we shall begin to explore this strange land. Don’t know if I ever shall write again… Meanwhile, I can see that the Indians are still in their place, and I am sure that the faithful Zambo will be here to get my letter.

P. S. The more I think the more desperate does our position seem. I see no possible hope of our return. If there were a high tree near the edge of the plateau we might drop a return bridge across, but there is none within fifty yards. The rope, of course, is far too short that we could descend by it. No, our position is hopeless… hopeless!