The Lost Continent
word, that love, as the one grand passion, had ceased to exist.
I do not know, now, but that they were more nearly right than we have
guessed, at least in so far as modern civilized woman is concerned. I
have kissed many women—young and beautiful and middle aged and old, and
many that I had no business kissing—but never before had I experienced
that remarkable and altogether delightful thrill that followed the
accidental brushing of my lips against the lips of Victory.
The occurrence interested me, and I was tempted to experiment further.
But when I would have essayed it another new and entirely unaccountable
force restrained me. For the first time in my life I felt embarrassment
in the presence of a woman.
What further might have developed I cannot say, for at that moment a
perfect she-devil of a lioness, with keener eyes than her lord and
master, discovered us. She came trotting toward our place of
concealment, growling and baring her yellow fangs.
I waited for an instant, hoping that I might be mistaken, and that she
would turn off in some other direction. But no—she increased her trot
to a gallop, and then I fired at her, but the bullet, though it struck
her full in the breast, didn’t stop her.
Screaming with pain and rage, the creature fairly flew toward us.
Behind her came other lions. Our case looked hopeless. We were upon the
brink of the river. There seemed no avenue of escape, and I knew that
even my modern automatic rifle was inadequate in the face of so many of
these fierce beasts.
To remain where we were would have been suicidal. We were both standing
now, Victory keeping her place bravely at my side, when I reached the
only decision open to me.
Seizing the girl’s hand, I turned, just as the lioness crashed into the
opposite side of the bushes, and, dragging Victory after me, leaped
over the edge of the bank into the river.
I did not know that lions are not fond of water, nor did I know if
Victory could swim, but death, immediate and terrible, stared us in the
face if we remained, and so I took the chance.
At this point the current ran close to the shore, so that we were
immediately in deep water, and, to my intense satisfaction, Victory
struck out with a strong, overhand stroke and set all my fears on her
account at rest.
But my relief was short-lived. That lioness, as I have said before, was
a veritable devil. She stood for a moment glaring at us, then like a
shot she sprang into the river and swam swiftly after us.
Victory was a length ahead of me.
“Swim for the other shore!” I called to her.
I was much impeded by my rifle, having to swim with one hand while I
clung to my precious weapon with the other. The girl had seen the
lioness take to the water, and she had also seen that I was swimming
much more slowly than she, and what did she do? She started to drop
back to my side.
“Go on!” I cried. “Make for the other shore, and then follow down until
you find my friends. Tell them that I sent you, and with orders that
they are to protect you. Go on! Go on!”
But she only waited until we were again swimming side by side, and I
saw that she had drawn her long knife, and was holding it between her
teeth.
“Do as I tell you!” I said to her sharply, but she shook her head.
The lioness was overhauling us rapidly. She was swimming silently, her
chin just touching the water, but blood was streaming from between her
lips. It was evident that her lungs were pierced.
She was almost upon me. I saw that in a moment she would take me under
her forepaws, or seize me in those great jaws. I felt that my time had
come, but I meant to die fighting. And so I turned, and, treading
water, raised my rifle above my head and awaited her.
Victory, animated by a bravery no less ferocious than that of the dumb
beast assailing us, swam straight for me. It all happened so swiftly
that I cannot recall the details of the kaleidoscopic action which
ensued. I knew that I rose high out of the water, and, with clubbed
rifle, dealt the animal a terrific blow upon the skull, that I saw
Victory, her long blade flashing in her hand, close, striking, upon the
beast, that a great paw fell upon her shoulder, and that I was swept
beneath the surface of the water like a straw before the prow of a
freighter.
Still clinging to my rifle, I rose again, to see the lioness struggling
in her death throes but an arml’s length from me. Scarcely had I risen
than the beast turned upon her side, struggled frantically for an
instant, and then sank.
CHAPTER VI.
Victory was nowhere in sight. Alone, I floated upon the bosom of the
Thames. In that brief instant I believe that I suffered more mental
anguish than I have crowded into all the balance of my life before or
since. A few hours before, I had been wishing that I might be rid of
her, and now that she was gone I would have given my life to have her
back 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 the
opportunity to save her, and, as I turned, the water boiled before my
face and her head shot up before me. I was on the point of striking out
to seize her, when a happy smile illumined her features.
“You are not dead!” she cried. “I have been searching the bottom for
you. 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 into
her heart.”
Ah, such a girl! I could not but wonder what one of our own
Pan-American women would have done under like circumstances. But then,
of course, they have not been trained by stern necessity to cope with
the 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 the
opposite shore. I am a strong swimmer, and had no doubt as to my
ability to cross the river, but I was not so sure about Victory, so I
swam close behind her, to be ready to give her assistance should she
need 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 we
were together brought new proofs of it. Nor was it her courage or
vitality only which amazed me. She had a head on those shapely
shoulders of hers, and dignity! My, but she could be regal when she
chose!
She told me that the lions were fewer upon this side of the river, but
that there were many wolves, running in great packs later in the year.
Now they were north somewhere, and we should have little to fear from
them, though we might meet with a few.
My first concern was to take my weapons apart and dry them, which was
rather difficult in the face of the fact that every rag about me was
drenched. But finally, thanks to the sun and much rubbing, I succeeded,
though I had no oil to lubricate them.
We ate some wild berries and roots that Victory found, and then we set
off again down the river, keeping an eye open for game on one side and
the launch on the other, for I thought that Delcarte, who would be the
natural leader during my absence, might run up the Thames in search of
me.
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 beneath
the stars. We were entirely unprotected from attack from wild beasts,
and for this reason I remained awake most of the night, on guard. But
nothing approached us, though I could hear the lions roaring across the
river, and once I thought I heard the howl of a beast north of us—it
might have been a wolf.
Altogether, it was a most unpleasant night, and I determined then that
if we were forced to sleep out again that I should provide some sort of
shelter which would protect us from attack while we slept.
Toward morning I dozed, and the sun was well up when Victory aroused me
by gently shaking my shoulder.
“Antelope!” she whispered in my ear, and, as I raised my head, she
pointed up-river. Crawling to my knees, I looked in the direction she
indicated, to see a buck standing upon a little knoll some two hundred
yards 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 crawl
closer to him and make sure of the meat we both so craved.
I had covered about fifty yards of the distance, and the beast was
still feeding peacefully, so I thought that I would make even surer of
a hit by going ahead another fifty yards, when the animal suddenly
raised his head and looked away, up-river. His whole attitude
proclaimed that he was startled by something beyond him that I could
not see.
Realizing that he might break and run and that I should then probably
miss him entirely, I raised my rifle to my shoulder. But even as I did
so the animal leaped into the air, and simultaneously there was a sound
of 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. But
coming from up-river it puzzled me considerably. Who could there be
with firearms in primitive England other than we of the Coldwater?
Victory was directly behind me, and I motioned for her to lie down, as
I did, behind the bush from which I had been upon the point of firing
at the antelope. We could see that the buck was quite dead, and from
our hiding place we waited to discover the identity of his slayer when
the latter should approach and claim his kill.
We had not long to wait, and when I saw the head and shoulders of a man
appear above the crest of the knoll, I sprang to my feet, with a
heartfelt cry of joy, for it was Delcarte.
At the sound of my voice, Delcarte half raised his rifle in readiness
for the attack of an enemy, but a moment later he recognized me, and
was coming rapidly to meet us. Behind him was Snider. They both were
astounded to see me upon the north bank of the river, and much more so
at the sight of my companion.
Then I introduced them to Victory, and told them that she was queen of
England. They thought, at first, that I was joking. But when I had
recounted my adventures and they realized that I was in earnest, they
believed me.
They told me that they had followed me inshore when I had not returned
from the hunt, that they had met the men of the elephant country, and
had had a short and one-sided battle with the fellows. And that
afterward they had returned to the launch with a prisoner, from whom
they had learned that I had probably been captured by the men of the
lion 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 camped
after dark a half mile above the spot where Victory and I had spent the
night. They must have passed us in the dark, and why I did not hear the
sound of the propeller I do not know, unless it passed me at a time
when the lions were making an unusually earsplitting din upon the
opposite side.
Taking the antelope with us, we all returned to the launch, where we
found Taylor as delighted to see me alive again as Delcarte had been. I
cannot say truthfully that Snider evinced much enthusiasm at my rescue.
Taylor had found the ingredients for chemical fuel, and the distilling
of them had, with the motor trouble, accounted for their delay in
setting out after me.
The prisoner that Delcarte and Snider had taken was a powerful young
fellow from the elephant country. Notwithstanding the fact that they