The Lost Continent Read online

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  What could it mean? I had left Alvarez in command. He was my mostloyal subordinate. It was absolutely beyond the pale of possibilitythat Alvarez should desert me. No, there was some other explanation.Something occurred to place my second officer, Porfirio Johnson, incommand. I was sure of it but why speculate? The futility ofconjecture was only too palpable. The Coldwater had abandoned us inmidocean. Doubtless none of us would survive to know why.

  The young man at the wheel of the power boat had turned her nose aboutas it became evident that the ship intended passing over us, and now hestill held her in futile pursuit of the Coldwater.

  "Bring her about, Snider," I directed, "and hold her due east. Wecan't catch the Coldwater, and we can't cross the Atlantic in this.Our only hope lies in making the nearest land, which, unless I ammistaken, is the Scilly Islands, off the southwest coast of England.Ever heard of England, Snider?"

  "There's a part of the United States of North America that used to beknown to the ancients as New England," he replied. "Is that where youmean, sir?"

  "No, Snider," I replied. "The England I refer to was an island off thecontinent of Europe. It was the seat of a very powerful kingdom thatflourished over two hundred years ago. A part of the United States ofNorth America and all of the Federated States of Canada once belongedto this ancient England."

  "Europe," breathed one of the men, his voice tense with excitement."My grandfather used to tell me stories of the world beyond thirty. Hehad been a great student, and he had read much from forbidden books."

  "In which I resemble your grandfather," I said, "for I, too, have readmore even than naval officers are supposed to read, and, as you menknow, we are permitted a greater latitude in the study of geography andhistory than men of other professions.

  "Among the books and papers of Admiral Porter Turck, who lived twohundred years ago, and from whom I am descended, many volumes stillexist, and are in my possession, which deal with the history andgeography of ancient Europe. Usually I bring several of these bookswith me upon a cruise, and this time, among others, I have maps ofEurope and her surrounding waters. I was studying them as we came awayfrom the Coldwater this morning, and luckily I have them with me."

  "You are going to try to make Europe, sir?" asked Taylor, the young manwho had last spoken.

  "It is the nearest land," I replied. "I have always wanted to explorethe forgotten lands of the Eastern Hemisphere. Here's our chance. Toremain at sea is to perish. None of us ever will see home again. Letus make the best of it, and enjoy while we do live that which isforbidden the balance of our race--the adventure and the mystery whichlie beyond thirty."

  Taylor and Delcarte seized the spirit of my mood but Snider, I think,was a trifle sceptical.

  "It is treason, sir," I replied, "but there is no law which compels usto visit punishment upon ourselves. Could we return to Pan-America, Ishould be the first to insist that we face it. But we know that's notpossible. Even if this craft would carry us so far, we haven't enoughwater or food for more than three days.

  "We are doomed, Snider, to die far from home and without ever againlooking upon the face of another fellow countryman than those who sithere now in this boat. Isn't that punishment sufficient for even themost exacting judge?"

  Even Snider had to admit that it was.

  "Very well, then, let us live while we live, and enjoy to the fullestwhatever of adventure or pleasure each new day brings, since any daymay be our last, and we shall be dead for a considerable while."

  I could see that Snider was still fearful, but Taylor and Delcarteresponded with a hearty, "Aye, aye, sir!"

  They were of different mold. Both were sons of naval officers. Theyrepresented the aristocracy of birth, and they dared to think forthemselves.

  Snider was in the minority, and so we continued toward the east.Beyond thirty, and separated from my ship, my authority ceased. I heldleadership, if I was to hold it at all, by virtue of personalqualifications only, but I did not doubt my ability to remain thedirector of our destinies in so far as they were amenable to humanagencies. I have always led. While my brain and brawn remainunimpaired I shall continue always to lead. Following is an art whichTurcks do not easily learn.

  It was not until the third day that we raised land, dead ahead, which Itook, from my map, to be the isles of Scilly. But such a gale wasblowing that I did not dare attempt to land, and so we passed to thenorth of them, skirted Land's End, and entered the English Channel.

  I think that up to that moment I had never experienced such a thrill aspassed through me when I realized that I was navigating these historicwaters. The lifelong dreams that I never had dared hope to seefulfilled were at last a reality--but under what forlorn circumstances!

  Never could I return to my native land. To the end of my days I mustremain in exile. Yet even these thoughts failed to dampen my ardor.

  My eyes scanned the waters. To the north I could see the rockboundcoast of Cornwall. Mine were the first American eyes to rest upon itfor more than two hundred years. In vain, I searched for some sign ofancient commerce that, if history is to be believed, must have dottedthe bosom of the Channel with white sails and blackened the heavenswith the smoke of countless funnels, but as far as eye could reach thetossing waters of the Channel were empty and deserted.

  Toward midnight the wind and sea abated, so that shortly after dawn Idetermined to make inshore in an attempt to effect a landing, for wewere sadly in need of fresh water and food.

  According to my observations, we were just off Ram Head, and it was myintention to enter Plymouth Bay and visit Plymouth. From my map itappeared that this city lay back from the coast a short distance, andthere was another city given as Devonport, which appeared to lie at themouth of the river Tamar.

  However, I knew that it would make little difference which city weentered, as the English people were famed of old for their hospitalitytoward visiting mariners. As we approached the mouth of the bay Ilooked for the fishing craft which I expected to see emerging thusearly in the day for their labors. But even after we rounded Ram Headand were well within the waters of the bay I saw no vessel. Neitherwas there buoy nor light nor any other mark to show larger ships thechannel, and I wondered much at this.

  The coast was densely overgrown, nor was any building or sign of manapparent from the water. Up the bay and into the River Tamar wemotored through a solitude as unbroken as that which rested upon thewaters of the Channel. For all we could see, there was no indicationthat man had ever set his foot upon this silent coast.

  I was nonplused, and then, for the first time, there crept over me anintuition of the truth.

  Here was no sign of war. As far as this portion of the Devon coast wasconcerned, that seemed to have been over for many years, but neitherwere there any people. Yet I could not find it within myself tobelieve that I should find no inhabitants in England. Reasoning thus,I discovered that it was improbable that a state of war still existed,and that the people all had been drawn from this portion of England tosome other, where they might better defend themselves against aninvader.

  But what of their ancient coast defenses? What was there here inPlymouth Bay to prevent an enemy landing in force and marching wherethey wished? Nothing. I could not believe that any enlightenedmilitary nation, such as the ancient English are reputed to have been,would have voluntarily so deserted an exposed coast and an excellentharbor to the mercies of an enemy.

  I found myself becoming more and more deeply involved in quandary. Thepuzzle which confronted me I could not unravel. We had landed, and Inow stood upon the spot where, according to my map, a large city shouldrear its spires and chimneys. There was nothing but rough, brokenground covered densely with weeds and brambles, and tall, rank, grass.

  Had a city ever stood there, no sign of it remained. The roughness andunevenness of the ground suggested something of a great mass of debrishidden by the accumulation of centuries of undergrowth.

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bsp; I drew the short cutlass with which both officers and men of the navyare, as you know, armed out of courtesy to the traditions and memoriesof the past, and with its point dug into the loam about the roots ofthe vegetation growing at my feet.

  The blade entered the soil for a matter of seven inches, when it struckupon something stonelike. Digging about the obstacle, I presentlyloosened it, and when I had withdrawn it from its sepulcher I found thething to be an ancient brick of clay, baked in an oven.

  Delcarte we had left in charge of the boat; but Snider and Taylor werewith me, and following my example, each engaged in the fascinatingsport of prospecting for antiques. Each of us uncovered a great numberof these bricks, until we commenced to weary of the monotony of it,when Snider suddenly gave an exclamation of excitement, and, as Iturned to look, he held up a human skull for my inspection.

  I took it from him and examined it. Directly in the center of theforehead was a small round hole. The gentleman had evidently come tohis end defending his country from an invader.

  Snider again held aloft another trophy of the search--a metal spike andsome tarnished and corroded metal ornaments. They had lain closebeside the skull.

  With the point of his cutlass Snider scraped the dirt and verdigrisfrom the face of the larger ornament.

  "An inscription," he said, and handed the thing to me.

  They were the spike and ornaments of an ancient German helmet. Beforelong we had uncovered many other indications that a great battle hadbeen fought upon the ground where we stood. But I was then, and stillam, at loss to account for the presence of German soldiers upon theEnglish coast so far from London, which history suggests would havebeen the natural goal of an invader.

  I can only account for it by assuming that either England wastemporarily conquered by the Teutons, or that an invasion of so vastproportions was undertaken that German troops were hurled upon theEngland coast in huge numbers and that landings were necessarilyeffected at many places simultaneously. Subsequent discoveries tend tostrengthen this view.

  We dug about for a short time with our cutlasses until I becameconvinced that a city had stood upon the spot at some time in the past,and that beneath our feet, crumbled and dead, lay ancient Devonport.

  I could not repress a sigh at the thought of the havoc war had wroughtin this part of England, at least. Farther east, nearer London, weshould find things very different. There would be the civilizationthat two centuries must have wrought upon our English cousins as theyhad upon us. There would be mighty cities, cultivated fields, happypeople. There we would be welcomed as long-lost brothers. There wouldwe find a great nation anxious to learn of the world beyond their sideof thirty, as I had been anxious to learn of that which lay beyond ourside of the dead line.

  I turned back toward the boat.

  "Come, men!" I said. "We will go up the river and fill our casks withfresh water, search for food and fuel, and then tomorrow be inreadiness to push on toward the east. I am going to London."