The Lost Continent
the concealing brushwood far enough for us, too, to see it.
Both Taylor and Snider gave little gasps of astonishment and dismay.
“What is it, sir?” asked the latter.
The creature stood about the height of a tall manl’s waist, and was
long and gaunt and sinuous, with a tawny coat striped with black, and
with white throat and belly. In conformation it was similar to a cat—a
huge cat, exaggerated colossal cat, with fiendish eyes and the most
devilish cast of countenance, as it wrinkled its bristling snout and
bared its great yellow fangs.
It was pacing, or rather, slinking, straight for Delcarte, who had now
leveled his rifle upon it.
“What is it, sir?” mumbled Snider again, and then a half-forgotten
picture from an old natural history sprang to my mind, and I recognized
in the frightful beast the Felis tigris of ancient Asia, specimens of
which had, in former centuries, been exhibited in the Western
Hemisphere.
Snider and Taylor were armed with rifles and revolvers, while I carried
only a revolver. Seizing Sniderl’s rifle from his trembling hands, I
called to Taylor to follow me, and together we ran forward, shouting,
to attract the beastl’s attention from Delcarte until we should all be
quite close enough to attack with the greatest assurance of success.
I cried to Delcarte not to fire until we reached his side, for I was
fearful lest our small caliber, steel-jacketed bullets should, far from
killing the beast, tend merely to enrage it still further. But he
misunderstood me, thinking that I had ordered him to fire.
With the report of his rifle the tiger stopped short in apparent
surprise, then turned and bit savagely at its shoulder for an instant,
after which it wheeled again toward Delcarte, issuing the most terrific
roars and screams, and launched itself, with incredible speed, toward
the brave fellow, who now stood his ground pumping bullets from his
automatic rifle as rapidly as the weapon would fire.
Taylor and I also opened up on the creature, and as it was broadside to
us it offered a splendid target, though for all the impression we
appeared to make upon the great cat we might as well have been
launching soap bubbles at it.
Straight as a torpedo it rushed for Delcarte, and, as Taylor and I
stumbled on through the tall grass toward our unfortunate comrade, we
saw the tiger rear upon him and crush him to the earth.
Not a backward step had the noble Delcarte taken. Two hundred years of
peace had not sapped the red blood from his courageous line. He went
down beneath that avalanche of bestial savagery still working his gun
and with his face toward his antagonist. Even in the instant that I
thought him dead I could not help but feel a thrill of pride that he
was one of my men, one of my class, a Pan-American gentleman of birth.
And that he had demonstrated one of the principal contentions of the
army-and-navy adherents—that military training was necessary for the
salvation of personal courage in the Pan-American race which for
generations had had to face no dangers more grave than those incident
to ordinary life in a highly civilized community, safeguarded by every
means at the disposal of a perfectly organized and all-powerful
government utilizing the best that advanced science could suggest.
As we ran toward Delcarte, both Taylor and I were struck by the fact
that the beast upon him appeared not to be mauling him, but lay quiet
and motionless upon its prey, and when we were quite close, and the
muzzles of our guns were at the animal’s head, I saw the explanation of
this sudden cessation of hostilities—Felis tigris was dead.
One of our bullets, or one of the last that Delcarte fired, had
penetrated the heart, and the beast had died even as it sprawled
forward crushing Delcarte to the ground.
A moment later, with our assistance, the man had scrambled from beneath
the carcass of his would-be slayer, without a scratch to indicate how
close to death he had been.
Delcarte’s buoyance was entirely unruffled. He came from under the
tiger with a broad grin on his handsome face, nor could I perceive that
a muscle trembled or that his voice showed the least indication of
nervousness or excitement.
With the termination of the adventure, we began to speculate upon the
explanation of the presence of this savage brute at large so great a
distance from its native habitat. My readings had taught me that it was
practically unknown outside of Asia, and that, so late as the twentieth
century, at least, there had been no savage beasts outside captivity in
England.
As we talked, Snider joined us, and I returned his rifle to him. Taylor
and Delcarte picked up the slain deer, and we all started down toward
the launch, walking slowly. Delcarte wanted to fetch the tigerl’s skin,
but I had to deny him permission, since we had no means to properly
cure it.
Upon the beach, we skinned the deer and cut away as much meat as we
thought we could dispose of, and as we were again embarking to continue
up the river for fresh water and fuel, we were startled by a series of
screams from the bushes a short distance away.
“Another Felis tigris,” said Taylor.
“Or a dozen of them,” supplemented Delcarte, and, even as he spoke,
there leaped into sight, one after another, eight of the beasts, full
grown—magnificent specimens.
At the sight of us, they came charging down like infuriated demons. I
saw that three rifles would be no match for them, and so I gave the
word to put out from shore, hoping that the “tiger,” as the ancients
called him, could not swim.
Sure enough, they all halted at the beach, pacing back and forth,
uttering fiendish cries, and glaring at us in the most malevolent
manner.
As we motored away, we presently heard the calls of similar animals far
inland. They seemed to be answering the cries of their fellows at the
waterl’s edge, and from the wide distribution and great volume of the
sound we came to the conclusion that enormous numbers of these beasts
must roam the adjacent country.
“They have eaten up the inhabitants,” murmured Snider, shuddering.
“I imagine you are right,” I agreed, “for their extreme boldness and
fearlessness in the presence of man would suggest either that man is
entirely unknown to them, or that they are extremely familiar with him
as their natural and most easily procured prey.”
“But where did they come from?” asked Delcarte. “Could they have
traveled here from Asia?”
I shook my head. The thing was a puzzle to me. I knew that it was
practically beyond reason to imagine that tigers had crossed the
mountain ranges and rivers and all the great continent of Europe to
travel this far from their native lairs, and entirely impossible that
they should have crossed the English Channel at all. Yet here they
were, and in great numbers.
We continued up the Tamar several miles, filled our casks, and then
landed to cook some of our deer steak, and have the first square meal
that had fallen to our lot since the Coldwater deserted us. But scarce
had we built our fire and prepared the meat for cooking than Snider,
whose eyes had been constantly roving about the landscape from the
moment that we left the launch, touched me on the arm and pointed to a
clump of bushes which grew a couple of hundred yards away.
Half concealed behind their screening foliage I saw the yellow and
black of a big tiger, and, as I looked, the beast stalked majestically
toward us. A moment later, he was followed by another and another, and
it is needless to state that we beat a hasty retreat to the launch.
The country was apparently infested by these huge Carnivora, for after
three other attempts to land and cook our food we were forced to
abandon the idea entirely, as each time we were driven off by hunting
tigers.
It was also equally impossible to obtain the necessary ingredients for
our chemical fuel, and, as we had very little left aboard, we
determined to step our folding mast and proceed under sail, hoarding
our fuel supply for use in emergencies.
I may say that it was with no regret that we bid adieu to Tigerland, as
we rechristened the ancient Devon, and, beating out into the Channel,
turned the launchl’s nose southeast, to round Bolt Head and continue up
the coast toward the Strait of Dover and the North Sea.
I was determined to reach London as soon as possible, that we might
obtain fresh clothing, meet with cultured people, and learn from the
lips of Englishmen the secrets of the two centuries since the East had
been divorced from the West.
Our first stopping place was the Isle of Wight. We entered the Solent
about ten o’clock one morning, and I must confess that my heart sank as
we came close to shore. No lighthouse was visible, though one was
plainly indicated upon my map. Upon neither shore was sign of human
habitation. We skirted the northern shore of the island in fruitless
search for man, and then at last landed upon an eastern point, where
Newport should have stood, but where only weeds and great trees and
tangled wild wood rioted, and not a single manmade thing was visible to
the eye.
Before landing, I had the men substitute soft bullets for the
steel-jacketed projectiles with which their belts and magazines were
filled. Thus equipped, we felt upon more even terms with the tigers,
but there was no sign of the tigers, and I decided that they must be
confined to the mainland.
After eating, we set out in search of fuel, leaving Taylor to guard the
launch. For some reason I could not trust Snider alone. I knew that he
looked with disapproval upon my plan to visit England, and I did not
know but what at his first opportunity, he might desert us, taking the
launch with him, and attempt to return to Pan-America.
That he would be fool enough to venture it, I did not doubt.
We had gone inland for a mile or more, and were passing through a
park-like wood, when we came suddenly upon the first human beings we
had seen since we sighted the English coast.
There were a score of men in the party. Hairy, half-naked men they
were, resting in the shade of a great tree. At the first sight of us
they sprang to their feet with wild yells, seizing long spears that had
lain beside them as they rested.
For a matter of fifty yards they ran from us as rapidly as they could,
and then they turned and surveyed us for a moment. Evidently emboldened
by the scarcity of our numbers, they commenced to advance upon us,
brandishing their spears and shouting horribly.
They were short and muscular of build, with long hair and beards
tangled and matted with filth. Their heads, however, were shapely, and
their eyes, though fierce and warlike, were intelligent.
Appreciation of these physical attributes came later, of course, when I
had better opportunity to study the men at close range and under
circumstances less fraught with danger and excitement. At the moment I
saw, and with unmixed wonder, only a score of wild savages charging
down upon us, where I had expected to find a community of civilized and
enlightened people.
Each of us was armed with rifle, revolver, and cutlass, but as we stood
shoulder to shoulder facing the wild men I was loath to give the
command to fire upon them, inflicting death or suffering upon strangers
with whom we had no quarrel, and so I attempted to restrain them for
the moment that we might parley with them.
To this end I raised my left hand above my head with the palm toward
them as the most natural gesture indicative of peaceful intentions
which occurred to me. At the same time I called aloud to them that we
were friends, though, from their appearance, there was nothing to
indicate that they might understand Pan-American, or ancient English,
which are of course practically identical.