The Lost Continent Read online

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  It was during the morning of July 6, 2137, that we entered the mouth ofthe Thames--to the best of my knowledge the first Western keel to cutthose historic waters for two hundred and twenty-one years!

  But where were the tugs and the lighters and the barges, the lightshipsand the buoys, and all those countless attributes which went to make upthe myriad life of the ancient Thames?

  Gone! All gone! Only silence and desolation reigned where once thecommerce of the world had centered.

  I could not help but compare this once great water-way with the watersabout our New York, or Rio, or San Diego, or Valparaiso. They hadbecome what they are today during the two centuries of the profoundpeace which we of the navy have been prone to deplore. And what,during this same period, had shorn the waters of the Thames of theirpristine grandeur?

  Militarist that I am, I could find but a single word ofexplanation--war!

  I bowed my head and turned my eyes downward from the lonely anddepressing sight, and in a silence which none of us seemed willing tobreak, we proceeded up the deserted river.

  We had reached a point which, from my map, I imagined must have beenabout the former site of Erith, when I discovered a small band ofantelope a short distance inland. As we were now entirely out of meatonce more, and as I had given up all expectations of finding a cityupon the site of ancient London, I determined to land and bag a coupleof the animals.

  Assured that they would be timid and easily frightened, I decided tostalk them alone, telling the men to wait at the boat until I called tothem to come and carry the carcasses back to the shore.

  Crawling carefully through the vegetation, making use of such trees andbushes as afforded shelter, I came at last almost within easy range ofmy quarry, when the antlered head of the buck went suddenly into theair, and then, as though in accordance with a prearranged signal, thewhole band moved slowly off, farther inland.

  As their pace was leisurely, I determined to follow them until I cameagain within range, as I was sure that they would stop and feed in ashort time.

  They must have led me a mile or more at least before they again haltedand commenced to browse upon the rank, luxuriant grasses. All the timethat I had followed them I had kept both eyes and ears alert for signor sound that would indicate the presence of Felis tigris; but so farnot the slightest indication of the beast had been apparent.

  As I crept closer to the antelope, sure this time of a good shot at alarge buck, I suddenly saw something that caused me to forget all aboutmy prey in wonderment.

  It was the figure of an immense grey-black creature, rearing itscolossal shoulders twelve or fourteen feet above the ground. Never inmy life had I seen such a beast, nor did I at first recognize it, sodifferent in appearance is the live reality from the stuffed, unnaturalspecimens preserved to us in our museums.

  But presently I guessed the identity of the mighty creature as Elephasafricanus, or, as the ancients commonly described it, African elephant.

  The antelope, although in plain view of the huge beast, paid not theslightest attention to it, and I was so wrapped up in watching themighty pachyderm that I quite forgot to shoot at the buck andpresently, and in quite a startling manner, it became impossible to doso.

  The elephant was browsing upon the young and tender shoots of some lowbushes, waving his great ears and switching his short tail. Theantelope, scarce twenty paces from him, continued their feeding, whensuddenly, from close beside the latter, there came a most terrifyingroar, and I saw a great, tawny body shoot, from the concealing verdurebeyond the antelope, full upon the back of a small buck.

  Instantly the scene changed from one of quiet and peace toindescribable chaos. The startled and terrified buck uttered cries ofagony. His fellows broke and leaped off in all directions. Theelephant raised his trunk, and, trumpeting loudly, lumbered off throughthe wood, crushing down small trees and trampling bushes in his madflight.

  Growling horribly, a huge lion stood across the body of his prey--sucha creature as no Pan-American of the twenty-second century had everbeheld until my eyes rested upon this lordly specimen of "the king ofbeasts." But what a different creature was this fierce-eyed demon,palpitating with life and vigor, glossy of coat, alert, growling,magnificent, from the dingy, moth-eaten replicas beneath their glasscases in the stuffy halls of our public museums.

  I had never hoped or expected to see a living lion, tiger, orelephant--using the common terms that were familiar to the ancients,since they seem to me less unwieldy than those now in general use amongus--and so it was with sentiments not unmixed with awe that I stoodgazing at this regal beast as, above the carcass of his kill, he roaredout his challenge to the world.

  So enthralled was I by the spectacle that I quite forgot myself, andthe better to view him, the great lion, I had risen to my feet andstood, not fifty paces from him, in full view.

  For a moment he did not see me, his attention being directed toward theretreating elephant, and I had ample time to feast my eyes upon hissplendid proportions, his great head, and his thick black mane.

  Ah, what thoughts passed through my mind in those brief moments as Istood there in rapt fascination! I had come to find a wondrouscivilization, and instead I found a wild-beast monarch of the realmwhere English kings had ruled. A lion reigned, undisturbed, within afew miles of the seat of one of the greatest governments the world hasever known, his domain a howling wilderness, where yesterday fell theshadows of the largest city in the world.

  It was appalling; but my reflections upon this depressing subject weredoomed to sudden extinction. The lion had discovered me.

  For an instant he stood silent and motionless as one of the mangyeffigies at home, but only for an instant. Then, with a most ferociousroar, and without the slightest hesitancy or warning, he charged uponme.

  He forsook the prey already dead beneath him for the pleasures of thedelectable tidbit, man. From the remorselessness with which the greatCarnivora of modern England hunted man, I am constrained to believethat, whatever their appetites in times past, they have cultivated agruesome taste for human flesh.

  As I threw my rifle to my shoulder, I thanked God, the ancient God ofmy ancestors, that I had replaced the hard-jacketed bullets in myweapon with soft-nosed projectiles, for though this was my firstexperience with Felis leo, I knew the moment that I faced that chargethat even my wonderfully perfected firearm would be as futile as apeashooter unless I chanced to place my first bullet in a vital spot.

  Unless you had seen it you could not believe credible the speed of acharging lion. Apparently the animal is not built for speed, nor canhe maintain it for long. But for a matter of forty or fifty yardsthere is, I believe, no animal on earth that can overtake him.

  Like a bolt he bore down upon me, but, fortunately for me, I did notlose my head. I guessed that no bullet would kill him instantly. Idoubted that I could pierce his skull. There was hope, though, infinding his heart through his exposed chest, or, better yet, ofbreaking his shoulder or foreleg, and bringing him up long enough topump more bullets into him and finish him.

  I covered his left shoulder and pulled the trigger as he was almostupon me. It stopped him. With a terrific howl of pain and rage, thebrute rolled over and over upon the ground almost to my feet. As hecame I pumped two more bullets into him, and as he struggled to rise,clawing viciously at me, I put a bullet in his spine.

  That finished him, and I am free to admit that I was mighty glad of it.There was a great tree close behind me, and, stepping within its shade,I leaned against it, wiping the perspiration from my face, for the daywas hot, and the exertion and excitement left me exhausted.

  I stood there, resting, for a moment, preparatory to turning andretracing my steps to the launch, when, without warning, somethingwhizzed through space straight toward me. There was a dull thud ofimpact as it struck the tree, and as I dodged to one side and turned tolook at the thing I saw a heavy spear imbedded in the wood not threeinches from where my head had been
.

  The thing had come from a little to one side of me, and, withoutwaiting to investigate at the instant, I leaped behind the tree, and,circling it, peered around the other side to get a sight of my would-bemurderer.

  This time I was pitted against men--the spear told me that all tooplainly--but so long as they didn't take me unawares or from behind Ihad little fear of them.

  Cautiously I edged about the far side of the trees until I could obtaina view of the spot from which the spear must have come, and when I didI saw the head of a man just emerging from behind a bush.

  The fellow was quite similar in type to those I had seen upon the Isleof Wight. He was hairy and unkempt, and as he finally stepped intoview I saw that he was garbed in the same primitive fashion.

  He stood for a moment gazing about in search of me, and then headvanced. As he did so a number of others, precisely like him, steppedfrom the concealing verdure of nearby bushes and followed in his wake.Keeping the trees between them and me, I ran back a short distanceuntil I found a clump of underbrush that would effectually conceal me,for I wished to discover the strength of the party and its armamentbefore attempting to parley with it.

  The useless destruction of any of these poor creatures was the farthestidea from my mind. I should have liked to have spoken with them, but Idid not care to risk having to use my high-powered rifle upon themother than in the last extremity.

  Once in my new place of concealment, I watched them as they approachedthe tree. There were about thirty men in the party and one woman--agirl whose hands seemed to be bound behind her and who was being pulledalong by two of the men.

  They came forward warily, peering cautiously into every bush andhalting often. At the body of the lion, they paused, and I could seefrom their gesticulations and the higher pitch of their voices thatthey were much excited over my kill.

  But presently they resumed their search for me, and as they advanced Ibecame suddenly aware of the unnecessary brutality with which thegirl's guards were treating her. She stumbled once, not far from myplace of concealment, and after the balance of the party had passed me.As she did so one of the men at her side jerked her roughly to her feetand struck her across the mouth with his fist.

  Instantly my blood boiled, and forgetting every consideration ofcaution, I leaped from my concealment, and, springing to the man'sside, felled him with a blow.

  So unexpected had been my act that it found him and his fellowunprepared; but instantly the latter drew the knife that protruded fromhis belt and lunged viciously at me, at the same time giving voice to awild cry of alarm.

  The girl shrank back at sight of me, her eyes wide in astonishment, andthen my antagonist was upon me. I parried his first blow with myforearm, at the same time delivering a powerful blow to his jaw thatsent him reeling back; but he was at me again in an instant, though inthe brief interim I had time to draw my revolver.

  I saw his companion crawling slowly to his feet, and the others of theparty racing down upon me. There was no time to argue now, other thanwith the weapons we wore, and so, as the fellow lunged at me again withthe wicked-looking knife, I covered his heart and pulled the trigger.

  Without a sound, he slipped to the earth, and then I turned the weaponupon the other guard, who was now about to attack me. He, too,collapsed, and I was alone with the astonished girl.

  The balance of the party was some twenty paces from us, but comingrapidly. I seized her arm and drew her after me behind a nearby tree,for I had seen that with both their comrades down the others werepreparing to launch their spears.

  With the girl safe behind the tree, I stepped out in sight of theadvancing foe, shouting to them that I was no enemy, and that theyshould halt and listen to me. But for answer they only yelled inderision and launched a couple of spears at me, both of which missed.

  I saw then that I must fight, yet still I hated to slay them, and itwas only as a final resort that I dropped two of them with my rifle,bringing the others to a temporary halt. Again, I appealed to them todesist. But they only mistook my solicitude for them for fear, and,with shouts of rage and derision, leaped forward once again tooverwhelm me.

  It was now quite evident that I must punish them severely,or--myself--die and relinquish the girl once more to her captors.Neither of these things had I the slightest notion of doing, and so Iagain stepped from behind the tree, and, with all the care anddeliberation of target practice, I commenced picking off the foremostof my assailants.

  One by one the wild men dropped, yet on came the others, fierce andvengeful, until, only a few remaining, these seemed to realize thefutility of combating my modern weapon with their primitive spears,and, still howling wrathfully, withdrew toward the west.

  Now, for the first time, I had an opportunity to turn my attentiontoward the girl, who had stood, silent and motionless, behind me as Ipumped death into my enemies and hers from my automatic rifle.

  She was of medium height, well formed, and with fine, clear-cutfeatures. Her forehead was high, and her eyes both intelligent andbeautiful. Exposure to the sun had browned a smooth and velvety skinto a shade which seemed to enhance rather than mar an altogether lovelypicture of youthful femininity.

  A trace of apprehension marked her expression--I cannot call it fearsince I have learned to know her--and astonishment was still apparentin her eyes. She stood quite erect, her hands still bound behind her,and met my gaze with level, proud return.

  "What language do you speak?" I asked. "Do you understand mine?"

  "Yes," she replied. "It is similar to my own. I am Grabritin. Whatare you?"

  "I am a Pan-American," I answered. She shook her head. "What is that?"

  I pointed toward the west. "Far away, across the ocean."

  Her expression altered a trifle. A slight frown contracted her brow.The expression of apprehension deepened.

  "Take off your cap," she said, and when, to humor her strange request,I did as she bid, she appeared relieved. Then she edged to one sideand leaned over seemingly to peer behind me. I turned quickly to seewhat she discovered, but finding nothing, wheeled about to see that herexpression was once more altered.

  "You are not from there?" and she pointed toward the east. It was ahalf question. "You are not from across the water there?"

  "No," I assured her. "I am from Pan-America, far away to the west.Have you ever heard of Pan-America?"

  She shook her head in negation. "I do not care where you are from,"she explained, "if you are not from there, and I am sure you are not,for the men from there have horns and tails."

  It was with difficulty that I restrained a smile.

  "Who are the men from there?" I asked.

  "They are bad men," she replied. "Some of my people do not believethat there are such creatures. But we have a legend--a very old, oldlegend, that once the men from there came across to Grabritin. Theycame upon the water, and under the water, and even in the air. Theycame in great numbers, so that they rolled across the land like a greatgray fog. They brought with them thunder and lightning and smoke thatkilled, and they fell upon us and slew our people by the thousands andthe hundreds of thousands. But at last we drove them back to thewater's edge, back into the sea, where many were drowned. Someescaped, and these our people followed--men, women, and even children,we followed them back. That is all. The legend says our people neverreturned. Maybe they were all killed. Maybe they are still there.But this, also, is in the legend, that as we drove the men back acrossthe water they swore that they would return, and that when they leftour shores they would leave no human being alive behind them. I wasafraid that you were from there."

  "By what name were these men called?" I asked.

  "We call them only the 'men from there,'" she replied, pointing towardthe east. "I have never heard that they had another name."

  In the light of what I knew of ancient history, it was not difficultfor me to guess the nationality of those she described simply as "themen from over there." But wha
t utter and appalling devastation theGreat War must have wrought to have erased not only every sign ofcivilization from the face of this great land, but even the name of theenemy from the knowledge and language of the people.

  I could only account for it on the hypothesis that the country had beenentirely depopulated except for a few scattered and forgotten children,who, in some marvelous manner, had been preserved by Providence tore-populate the land. These children had, doubtless, been too young toretain in their memories to transmit to their children any but thevaguest suggestion of the cataclysm which had overwhelmed their parents.

  Professor Cortoran, since my return to Pan-America, has suggestedanother theory which is not entirely without claim to seriousconsideration. He points out that it is quite beyond the pale of humaninstinct to desert little children as my theory suggests the ancientEnglish must have done. He is more inclined to believe that theexpulsion of the foe from England was synchronous with widespreadvictories by the allies upon the continent, and that the people ofEngland merely emigrated from their ruined cities and their devastated,blood-drenched fields to the mainland, in the hope of finding, in thedomain of the conquered enemy, cities and farms which would replacethose they had lost.

  The learned professor assumes that while a long-continued war hadstrengthened rather than weakened the instinct of paternal devotion, ithad also dulled other humanitarian instincts, and raised to the firstmagnitude the law of the survival of the fittest, with the result thatwhen the exodus took place the strong, the intelligent, and thecunning, together with their offspring, crossed the waters of theChannel or the North Sea to the continent, leaving in unhappy Englandonly the helpless inmates of asylums for the feebleminded and insane.

  My objections to this, that the present inhabitants of England arementally fit, and could therefore not have descended from an ancestryof undiluted lunacy he brushes aside with the assertion that insanityis not necessarily hereditary; and that even though it was, in manycases a return to natural conditions from the state of highcivilization, which is thought to have induced mental disease in theancient world, would, after several generations, have thoroughlyexpunged every trace of the affliction from the brains and nerves ofthe descendants of the original maniacs.

  Personally, I do not place much stock in Professor Cortoran's theory,though I admit that I am prejudiced. Naturally one does not care tobelieve that the object of his greatest affection is descended from agibbering idiot and a raving maniac.

  But I am forgetting the continuity of my narrative--a continuity whichI desire to maintain, though I fear that I shall often be led astray,so numerous and varied are the bypaths of speculation which lead fromthe present day story of the Grabritins into the mysterious past oftheir forbears.

  As I stood talking with the girl I presently recollected that she stillwas bound, and with a word of apology, I drew my knife and cut therawhide thongs which confined her wrists at her back.

  She thanked me, and with such a sweet smile that I should have beenamply repaid by it for a much more arduous service.

  "And now," I said, "let me accompany you to your home and see yousafely again under the protection of your friends."

  "No," she said, with a hint of alarm in her voice; "you must not comewith me--Buckingham will kill you."

  Buckingham. The name was famous in ancient English history. Itssurvival, with many other illustrious names, is one of the strongestarguments in refutal of Professor Cortoran's theory; yet it opens nonew doors to the past, and, on the whole, rather adds to thandissipates the mystery.

  "And who is Buckingham," I asked, "and why should he wish to kill me?"

  "He would think that you had stolen me," she replied, "and as he wishesme for himself, he will kill any other whom he thinks desires me. Hekilled Wettin a few days ago. My mother told me once that Wettin wasmy father. He was king. Now Buckingham is king."

  Here, evidently, were a people slightly superior to those of the Isleof Wight. These must have at least the rudiments of civilizedgovernment since they recognized one among them as ruler, with thetitle, king. Also, they retained the word father. The girl'spronunciation, while far from identical with ours, was much closer thanthe tortured dialect of the Eastenders of the Isle of Wight. Thelonger I talked with her the more hopeful I became of finding here,among her people, some records, or traditions, which might assist inclearing up the historic enigma of the past two centuries. I asked herif we were far from the city of London, but she did not know what Imeant. When I tried to explain, describing mighty buildings of stoneand brick, broad avenues, parks, palaces, and countless people, she butshook her head sadly.

  "There is no such place near by," she said. "Only the Camp of theLions has places of stone where the beasts lair, but there are nopeople in the Camp of the Lions. Who would dare go there!" And sheshuddered.

  "The Camp of the Lions," I repeated. "And where is that, and what?"

  "It is there," she said, pointing up the river toward the west. "Ihave seen it from a great distance, but I have never been there. Weare much afraid of the lions, for this is their country, and they areangry that man has come to live here.

  "Far away there," and she pointed toward the south-west, "is the landof tigers, which is even worse than this, the land of the lions, forthe tigers are more numerous than the lions and hungrier for humanflesh. There were tigers here long ago, but both the lions and the menset upon them and drove them off."

  "Where did these savage beasts come from?" I asked.

  "Oh," she replied, "they have been here always. It is their country."

  "Do they not kill and eat your people?" I asked.

  "Often, when we meet them by accident, and we are too few to slay them,or when one goes too close to their camp. But seldom do they hunt us,for they find what food they need among the deer and wild cattle, and,too, we make them gifts, for are we not intruders in their country?Really we live upon good terms with them, though I should not care tomeet one were there not many spears in my party."

  "I should like to visit this Camp of the Lions," I said.

  "Oh, no, you must not!" cried the girl. "That would be terrible. Theywould eat you." For a moment, then, she seemed lost in thought, butpresently she turned upon me with: "You must go now, for any minuteBuckingham may come in search of me. Long since should they havelearned that I am gone from the camp--they watch over me veryclosely--and they will set out after me. Go! I shall wait here untilthey come in search of me."

  "No," I told her. "I'll not leave you alone in a land infested bylions and other wild beasts. If you won't let me go as far as yourcamp with you, then I'll wait here until they come in search of you."

  "Please go!" she begged. "You have saved me, and I would save you, butnothing will save you if Buckingham gets his hands on you. He is a badman. He wishes to have me for his woman so that he may be king. Hewould kill anyone who befriended me, for fear that I might becomeanother's."

  "Didn't you say that Buckingham is already the king?" I asked.

  "He is. He took my mother for his woman after he had killed Wettin.But my mother will die soon--she is very old--and then the man to whomI belong will become king."

  Finally, after much questioning, I got the thing through my head. Itappears that the line of descent is through the women. A man is merelyhead of his wife's family--that is all. If she chances to be theoldest female member of the "royal" house, he is king. Very naivelythe girl explained that there was seldom any doubt as to whom a child'smother was.

  This accounted for the girl's importance in the community and forBuckingham's anxiety to claim her, though she told me that she did notwish to become his woman, for he was a bad man and would make a badking. But he was powerful, and there was no other man who dareddispute his wishes.

  "Why not come with me," I suggested, "if you do not wish to becomeBuckingham's?"

  "Where would you take me?" she asked.

  Where, indeed! I had not thought of that. But b
efore I could reply toher question she shook her head and said, "No, I cannot leave mypeople. I must stay and do my best, even if Buckingham gets me, butyou must go at once. Do not wait until it is too late. The lions havehad no offering for a long time, and Buckingham would seize upon thefirst stranger as a gift to them."

  I did not perfectly understand what she meant, and was about to ask herwhen a heavy body leaped upon me from behind, and great arms encircledmy neck. I struggled to free myself and turn upon my antagonist, butin another instant I was overwhelmed by a half dozen powerful,half-naked men, while a score of others surrounded me, a couple of whomseized the girl.

  I fought as best I could for my liberty and for hers, but the weight ofnumbers was too great, though I had the satisfaction at least of givingthem a good fight.

  When they had overpowered me, and I stood, my hands bound behind me, atthe girl's side, she gazed commiseratingly at me.

  "It is too bad that you did not do as I bid you," she said, "for now ithas happened just as I feared--Buckingham has you."

  "Which is Buckingham?" I asked.

  "I am Buckingham," growled a burly, unwashed brute, swaggeringtruculently before me. "And who are you who would have stolen mywoman?"

  The girl spoke up then and tried to explain that I had not stolen her;but on the contrary I had saved her from the men from the "ElephantCountry" who were carrying her away.

  Buckingham only sneered at her explanation, and a moment later gave thecommand that started us all off toward the west. We marched for amatter of an hour or so, coming at last to a collection of rude huts,fashioned from branches of trees covered with skins and grasses andsometimes plastered with mud. All about the camp they had erected awall of saplings pointed at the tops and fire hardened.

  This palisade was a protection against both man and beasts, and withinit dwelt upward of two thousand persons, the shelters being built veryclose together, and sometimes partially underground, like deeptrenches, with the poles and hides above merely as protection from thesun and rain.

  The older part of the camp consisted almost wholly of trenches, asthough this had been the original form of dwellings which was slowlygiving way to the drier and airier surface domiciles. In these trenchhabitations I saw a survival of the military trenches which formed sofamous a part of the operation of the warring nations during thetwentieth century.

  The women wore a single light deerskin about their hips, for it wassummer, and quite warm. The men, too, were clothed in a singlegarment, usually the pelt of some beast of prey. The hair of both menand women was confined by a rawhide thong passing about the foreheadand tied behind. In this leathern band were stuck feathers, flowers,or the tails of small mammals. All wore necklaces of the teeth orclaws of wild beasts, and there were numerous metal wristlets andanklets among them.

  They wore, in fact, every indication of a most primitive people--a racewhich had not yet risen to the heights of agriculture or even thepossession of domestic animals. They were hunters--the lowest plane inthe evolution of the human race of which science takes cognizance.

  And yet as I looked at their well shaped heads, their handsomefeatures, and their intelligent eyes, it was difficult to believe thatI was not among my own. It was only when I took into considerationtheir mode of living, their scant apparel, the lack of every leastluxury among them, that I was forced to admit that they were, in truth,but ignorant savages.

  Buckingham had relieved me of my weapons, though he had not theslightest idea of their purpose or uses, and when we reached the camphe exhibited both me and my arms with every indication of pride in thisgreat capture.

  The inhabitants flocked around me, examining my clothing, andexclaiming in wonderment at each new discovery of button, buckle,pocket, and flap. It seemed incredible that such a thing could be,almost within a stone's throw of the spot where but a brief twocenturies before had stood the greatest city of the world.

  They bound me to a small tree that grew in the middle of one of theircrooked streets, but the girl they released as soon as we had enteredthe enclosure. The people greeted her with every mark of respect asshe hastened to a large hut near the center of the camp.

  Presently she returned with a fine looking, white-haired woman, whoproved to be her mother. The older woman carried herself with a regaldignity that seemed quite remarkable in a place of such primitivesqualor.

  The people fell aside as she approached, making a wide way for her andher daughter. When they had come near and stopped before me the olderwoman addressed me.

  "My daughter has told me," she said, "of the manner in which yourescued her from the men of the elephant country. If Wettin lived youwould be well treated, but Buckingham has taken me now, and is king.You can hope for nothing from such a beast as Buckingham."

  The fact that Buckingham stood within a pace of us and was aninterested listener appeared not to temper her expressions in theslightest.

  "Buckingham is a pig," she continued. "He is a coward. He came uponWettin from behind and ran his spear through him. He will not be kingfor long. Some one will make a face at him, and he will run away andjump into the river."

  The people began to titter and clap their hands. Buckingham became redin the face. It was evident that he was far from popular.

  "If he dared," went on the old lady, "he would kill me now, but he doesnot dare. He is too great a coward. If I could help you I shouldgladly do so. But I am only queen--the vehicle that has helped carrydown, unsullied, the royal blood from the days when Grabritin was amighty country."

  The old queen's words had a noticeable effect upon the mob of curioussavages which surrounded me. The moment they discovered that the oldqueen was friendly to me and that I had rescued her daughter theycommenced to accord me a more friendly interest, and I heard many wordsspoken in my behalf, and demands were made that I not be harmed.

  But now Buckingham interfered. He had no intention of being robbed ofhis prey. Blustering and storming, he ordered the people back to theirhuts, at the same time directing two of his warriors to confine me in adugout in one of the trenches close to his own shelter.

  Here they threw me upon the ground, binding my ankles together andtrussing them up to my wrists behind. There they left me, lying uponmy stomach--a most uncomfortable and strained position, to which wasadded the pain where the cords cut into my flesh.

  Just a few days ago my mind had been filled with the anticipation ofthe friendly welcome I should find among the cultured Englishmen ofLondon. Today I should be sitting in the place of honor at the banquetboard of one of London's most exclusive clubs, feted and lionized.

  The actuality! Here I lay, bound hand and foot, doubtless almost uponthe very site of a part of ancient London, yet all about me was aprimeval wilderness, and I was a captive of half-naked wild men.

  I wondered what had become of Delcarte and Taylor and Snider. Wouldthey search for me? They could never find me, I feared, yet if theydid, what could they accomplish against this horde of savage warriors?

  Would that I could warn them. I thought of the girl--doubtless shecould get word to them, but how was I to communicate with her? Wouldshe come to see me before I was killed? It seemed incredible that sheshould not make some slight attempt to befriend me; yet, as I recalled,she had made no effort to speak with me after we had reached thevillage. She had hastened to her mother the moment she had beenliberated. Though she had returned with the old queen, she had notspoken to me, even then. I began to have my doubts.

  Finally, I came to the conclusion that I was absolutely friendlessexcept for the old queen. For some unaccountable reason my rageagainst the girl for her ingratitude rose to colossal proportions.

  For a long time I waited for some one to come to my prison whom I mightask to bear word to the queen, but I seemed to have been forgotten.The strained position in which I lay became unbearable. I wriggled andtwisted until I managed to turn myself partially upon my side, where Ilay half facing the entrance to the dugout.


  Presently my attention was attracted by the shadow of something movingin the trench without, and a moment later the figure of a childappeared, creeping upon all fours, as, wide-eyed, and prompted bychildish curiosity, a little girl crawled to the entrance of my hut andpeered cautiously and fearfully in.

  I did not speak at first for fear of frightening the little one away.But when I was satisfied that her eyes had become sufficientlyaccustomed to the subdued light of the interior, I smiled.

  Instantly the expression of fear faded from her eyes to be replacedwith an answering smile.

  "Who are you, little girl?" I asked.

  "My name is Mary," she replied. "I am Victory's sister."

  "And who is Victory?"

  "You do not know who Victory is?" she asked, in astonishment.

  I shook my head in negation.

  "You saved her from the elephant country people, and yet you say you donot know her!" she exclaimed.

  "Oh, so she is Victory, and you are her sister! I have not heard hername before. That is why I did not know whom you meant," I explained.Here was just the messenger for me. Fate was becoming more kind.

  "Will you do something for me, Mary?" I asked.

  "If I can."

  "Go to your mother, the queen, and ask her to come to me," I said. "Ihave a favor to ask."

  She said that she would, and with a parting smile she left me.

  For what seemed many hours I awaited her return, chafing withimpatience. The afternoon wore on and night came, and yet no one camenear me. My captors brought me neither food nor water. I wassuffering considerable pain where the rawhide thongs cut into myswollen flesh. I thought that they had either forgotten me, or that itwas their intention to leave me here to die of starvation.

  Once I heard a great uproar in the village. Men were shouting--womenwere screaming and moaning. After a time this subsided, and againthere was a long interval of silence.

  Half the night must have been spent when I heard a sound in the trenchnear the hut. It resembled muffled sobs. Presently a figure appeared,silhouetted against the lesser darkness beyond the doorway. It creptinside the hut.

  "Are you here?" whispered a childlike voice.

  It was Mary! She had returned. The thongs no longer hurt me. Thepangs of hunger and thirst disappeared. I realized that it had beenloneliness from which I suffered most.

  "Mary!" I exclaimed. "You are a good girl. You have come back, afterall. I had commenced to think that you would not. Did you give mymessage to the queen? Will she come? Where is she?"

  The child's sobs increased, and she flung herself upon the dirt floorof the hut, apparently overcome by grief.

  "What is it?" I asked. "Why do you cry?"

  "The queen, my mother, will not come to you," she said, between sobs."She is dead. Buckingham has killed her. Now he will take Victory,for Victory is queen. He kept us fastened up in our shelter, for fearthat Victory would escape him, but I dug a hole beneath the back walland got out. I came to you, because you saved Victory once before, andI thought that you might save her again, and me, also. Tell me thatyou will."

  "I am bound and helpless, Mary," I replied. "Otherwise I would do whatI could to save you and your sister."

  "I will set you free!" cried the girl, creeping up to my side. "I willset you free, and then you may come and slay Buckingham."

  "Gladly!" I assented.

  "We must hurry," she went on, as she fumbled with the hard knots in thestiffened rawhide, "for Buckingham will be after you soon. He mustmake an offering to the lions at dawn before he can take Victory. Thetaking of a queen requires a human offering!"

  "And I am to be the offering?" I asked.

  "Yes," she said, tugging at a knot. "Buckingham has been wanting asacrifice ever since he killed Wettin, that he might slay my mother andtake Victory."

  The thought was horrible, not solely because of the hideous fate towhich I was condemned, but from the contemplation it engendered of thesad decadence of a once enlightened race. To these depths ofignorance, brutality, and superstition had the vaunted civilization oftwentieth century England been plunged, and by what? War! I felt thestructure of our time-honored militaristic arguments crumbling about me.

  Mary labored with the thongs that confined me. They provedrefractory--defying her tender, childish fingers. She assured me,however, that she would release me, if "they" did not come too soon.

  But, alas, they came. We heard them coming down the trench, and I badeMary hide in a corner, lest she be discovered and punished. There wasnaught else she could do, and so she crawled away into the Stygianblackness behind me.

  Presently two warriors entered. The leader exhibited a unique methodof discovering my whereabouts in the darkness. He advanced slowly,kicking out viciously before him. Finally he kicked me in the face.Then he knew where I was.

  A moment later I had been jerked roughly to my feet. One of thefellows stopped and severed the bonds that held my ankles. I couldscarcely stand alone. The two pulled and hauled me through the lowdoorway and along the trench. A party of forty or fifty warriors wereawaiting us at the brink of the excavation some hundred yards from thehut.

  Hands were lowered to us, and we were dragged to the surface. Thencommenced a long march. We stumbled through the underbrush wet withdew, our way lighted by a score of torchbearers who surrounded us. Butthe torches were not to light the way--that was but incidental. Theywere carried to keep off the huge Carnivora that moaned and coughed androared about us.

  The noises were hideous. The whole country seemed alive with lions.Yellow-green eyes blazed wickedly at us from out the surroundingdarkness. My escort carried long, heavy spears. These they kept everpointed toward the beast of prey, and I learned from snatches of theconversation I overheard that occasionally there might be a lion whowould brave even the terrors of fire to leap in upon human prey. Itwas for such that the spears were always couched.

  But nothing of the sort occurred during this hideous death march, andwith the first pale heralding of dawn we reached our goal--an openplace in the midst of a tangled wildwood. Here rose in crumblinggrandeur the first evidences I had seen of the ancient civilizationwhich once had graced fair Albion--a single, time-worn arch of masonry.

  "The entrance to the Camp of the Lions!" murmured one of the party in avoice husky with awe.

  Here the party knelt, while Buckingham recited a weird, prayer-likechant. It was rather long, and I recall only a portion of it, whichran, if my memory serves me, somewhat as follows:

  Lord of Grabritin, we Fall on our knees to thee, This gift to bring. Greatest of kings are thou! To thee we humbly bow! Peace to our camp allow. God save thee, king!

  Then the party rose, and dragging me to the crumbling arch, made mefast to a huge, corroded, copper ring which was dangling from aneyebolt imbedded in the masonry.

  None of them, not even Buckingham, seemed to feel any personalanimosity toward me. They were naturally rough and brutal, asprimitive men are supposed to have been since the dawn of humanity, butthey did not go out of their way to maltreat me.

  With the coming of dawn the number of lions about us seemed to havegreatly diminished--at least they made less noise--and as Buckinghamand his party disappeared into the woods, leaving me alone to myterrible fate, I could hear the grumblings and growlings of the beastsdiminishing with the sound of the chant, which the party stillcontinued. It appeared that the lions had failed to note that I hadbeen left for their breakfast, and had followed off after theirworshippers instead.

  But I knew the reprieve would be but for a short time, and though I hadno wish to die, I must confess that I rather wished the ordeal over andthe peace of oblivion upon me.

  The voices of the men and the lions receded in the distance, untilfinally quiet reigned about me, broken only by the sweet voices ofbirds and the sighing of the summer wind in the trees.

  It seemed impossibl
e to believe that in this peaceful woodland settingthe frightful thing was to occur which must come with the passing ofthe next lion who chanced within sight or smell of the crumbling arch.

  I strove to tear myself loose from my bonds, but succeeded only intightening them about my arms. Then I remained passive for a longtime, letting the scenes of my lifetime pass in review before my mind'seye.

  I tried to imagine the astonishment, incredulity, and horror with whichmy family and friends would be overwhelmed if, for an instant, spacecould be annihilated and they could see me at the gates of London.

  The gates of London! Where was the multitude hurrying to the marts oftrade after a night of pleasure or rest? Where was the clang oftramcar gongs, the screech of motor horns, the vast murmur of a densethrong?

  Where were they? And as I asked the question a lone, gaunt lion strodefrom the tangled jungle upon the far side of the clearing.Majestically and noiselessly upon his padded feet the king of beastsmoved slowly toward the gates of London and toward me.

  Was I afraid? I fear that I was almost afraid. I know that I thoughtthat fear was coming to me, and so I straightened up and squared myshoulders and looked the lion straight in the eyes--and waited.

  It is not a nice way to die--alone, with one's hands fast bound,beneath the fangs and talons of a beast of prey. No, it is not a niceway to die, not a pretty way.

  The lion was halfway across the clearing when I heard a slight soundbehind me. The great cat stopped in his tracks. He lashed his tailagainst his sides now, instead of simply twitching its tip, and his lowmoan became a thunderous roar.

  As I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of the thing that had arousedthe fury of the beast before me, it sprang through the arched gatewayand was at my side--with parted lips and heaving bosom and disheveledhair--a bronzed and lovely vision to eyes that had never harbored hopeof rescue.

  It was Victory, and in her arms she clutched my rifle and revolver. Along knife was in the doeskin belt that supported the doeskin skirttightly about her lithe limbs. She dropped my weapons at my feet, and,snatching the knife from its resting place, severed the bonds that heldme. I was free, and the lion was preparing to charge.

  "Run!" I cried to the girl, as I bent and seized my rifle. But sheonly stood there at my side, her bared blade ready in her hand.

  The lion was bounding toward us now in prodigious leaps. I raised therifle and fired. It was a lucky shot, for I had no time to aimcarefully, and when the beast crumpled and rolled, lifeless, to theground, I went upon my knees and gave thanks to the God of my ancestors.

  And, still upon my knees, I turned, and taking the girl's hand in mine,I kissed it. She smiled at that, and laid her other hand upon my head.

  "You have strange customs in your country," she said.

  I could not but smile at that when I thought how strange it would seemto my countrymen could they but see me kneeling there on the site ofLondon, kissing the hand of England's queen.

  "And now," I said, as I rose, "you must return to the safety of yourcamp. I will go with you until you are near enough to continue alonein safety. Then I shall try to return to my comrades."

  "I will not return to the camp," she replied.

  "But what shall you do?" I asked.

  "I do not know. Only I shall never go back while Buckingham lives. Ishould rather die than go back to him. Mary came to me, after they hadtaken you from the camp, and told me. I found your strange weapons andfollowed with them. It took me a little longer, for often I had tohide in the trees that the lions might not get me, but I came in time,and now you are free to go back to your friends."

  "And leave you here?" I exclaimed.

  She nodded, but I could see through all her brave front that she wasfrightened at the thought. I could not leave her, of course, but whatin the world I was to do, cumbered with the care of a young woman, anda queen at that, I was at a loss to know. I pointed out that phase ofit to her, but she only shrugged her shapely shoulders and pointed toher knife.

  It was evident that she felt entirely competent to protect herself.

  As we stood there we heard the sound of voices. They were coming fromthe forest through which we had passed when we had come from camp.

  "They are searching for me," said the girl. "Where shall we hide?"

  I didn't relish hiding. But when I thought of the innumerable dangerswhich surrounded us and the comparatively small amount of ammunitionthat I had with me, I hesitated to provoke a battle with Buckingham andhis warriors when, by flight, I could avoid them and preserve mycartridges against emergencies which could not be escaped.

  "Would they follow us there?" I asked, pointing through the archwayinto the Camp of the Lions.

  "Never," she replied, "for, in the first place, they would know that wewould not dare go there, and in the second they themselves would notdare."

  "Then we shall take refuge in the Camp of the Lions," I said.

  She shuddered and drew closer to me.

  "You dare?" she asked.

  "Why not?" I returned. "We shall be safe from Buckingham, and you haveseen, for the second time in two days, that lions are harmless beforemy weapons. Then, too, I can find my friends easiest in thisdirection, for the River Thames runs through this place you call theCamp of the Lions, and it is farther down the Thames that my friendsare awaiting me. Do you not dare come with me?"

  "I dare follow wherever you lead," she answered simply.

  And so I turned and passed beneath the great arch into the city ofLondon.