The Lost World. Артур Конан Дойл

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СКАЧАТЬ rubbing his hands with an air of triumph.

      “It is monstrous – grotesque.”

      “But what made him draw such an animal?”

      “Trade gin, I should think.”

      “Oh, that’s the best explanation you can give, is it?”

      “Well, sir, what is yours?”

      “The obvious one that the creature exists. That is actually sketched from the life.”

      I should have laughed only that I had a vision of our doing another Catharine-wheel down the passage.

      “No doubt,” said I, “no doubt,” as one humors an imbecile. “I confess, however,” I added, “that this tiny human figure puzzles me. If it were an Indian we could set it down as evidence of some pigmy race in America, but it appears to be a European in a sun-hat.”

      The Professor snorted like an angry buffalo. “You really touch the limit,” said he. “You enlarge my view of the possible. Cerebral paresis! Mental inertia! Wonderful!”

      He was too absurd to make me angry. Indeed, it was a waste of energy, for if you were going to be angry with this man you would be angry all the time. I contented myself with smiling wearily. “It struck me that the man was small,” said I.

      “Look here!” he cried, leaning forward and dabbing a great hairy sausage of a finger on to the picture. “You see that plant behind the animal; I suppose you thought it was a dandelion or a Brussels sprout – what? Well, it is a vegetable ivory palm, and they run to about fifty or sixty feet. Don’t you see that the man is put in for a purpose? He couldn’t really have stood in front of that brute and lived to draw it. He sketched himself in to give a scale of heights. He was, we will say, over five feet high. The tree is ten times bigger, which is what one would expect.”

      “Good heavens!” I cried. “Then you think the beast was – Why, Charing Cross station would hardly make a kennel for such a brute!”

      “Apart from exaggeration, he is certainly a well-grown specimen,” said the Professor, complacently.

      “But,” I cried, “surely the whole experience of the human race is not to be set aside on account of a single sketch” – I had turned over the leaves and ascertained that there was nothing more in the book – “a single sketch by a wandering American artist who may have done it under hashish, or in the delirium of fever, or simply in order to gratify a freakish imagination. You can’t, as a man of science, defend such a position as that.”

      For answer the Professor took a book down from a shelf.

      “This is an excellent monograph by my gifted friend, Ray Lankester!” said he. “There is an illustration here which would interest you. Ah, yes, here it is! The inscription beneath it runs: ‘Probable appearance in life of the Jurassic Dinosaur Stegosaurus. The hind leg alone is twice as tall as a full-grown man.’ Well, what do you make of that?”

      He handed me the open book. I started as I looked at the picture. In this reconstructed animal of a dead world there was certainly a very great resemblance to the sketch of the unknown artist.

      “That is certainly remarkable,” said I.

      “But you won’t admit that it is final?”

      “Surely it might be a coincidence, or this American may have seen a picture of the kind and carried it in his memory. It would be likely to recur to a man in a delirium.”

      “Very good,” said the Professor, indulgently; “we leave it at that. I will now ask you to look at this bone.” He handed over the one which he had already described as part of the dead man’s possessions. It was about six inches long, and thicker than my thumb, with some indications of dried cartilage at one end of it.

      “To what known creature does that bone belong?” asked the Professor.

      I examined it with care and tried to recall some half-forgotten knowledge.

      “It might be a very thick human collar-bone,” I said.

      My companion waved his hand in contemptuous deprecation.

      “The human collar-bone is curved. This is straight. There is a groove upon its surface showing that a great tendon played across it, which could not be the case with a clavicle.”

      “Then I must confess that I don’t know what it is.”

      “You need not be ashamed to expose your ignorance, for I don’t suppose the whole South Kensington staff could give a name to it.” He took a little bone the size of a bean out of a pill-box. “So far as I am a judge this human bone is the analogue of the one which you hold in your hand. That will give you some idea of the size of the creature. You will observe from the cartilage that this is no fossil specimen, but recent. What do you say to that?”

      “Surely in an elephant – “

      He winced as if in pain.

      “Don’t! Don’t talk of elephants in South America. Even in these days of Board schools – “

      “Well,” I interrupted, “any large South American animal – a tapir, for example.”

      “You may take it, young man, that I am versed in the elements of my business. This is not a conceivable bone either of a tapir or of any other creature known to zoology. It belongs to a very large, a very strong, and, by all analogy, a very fierce animal which exists upon the face of the earth, but has not yet come under the notice of science. You are still unconvinced?”

      “I am at least deeply interested.”

      “Then your case is not hopeless. I feel that there is reason lurking in you somewhere, so we will patiently grope round for it. We will now leave the dead American and proceed with my narrative. You can imagine that I could hardly come away from the Amazon without probing deeper into the matter. There were indications as to the direction from which the dead traveler had come. Indian legends would alone have been my guide, for I found that rumors of a strange land were common among all the riverine tribes. You have heard, no doubt, of Curupuri?”

      “Never.”

      “Curupuri is the spirit of the woods, something terrible, something malevolent, something to be avoided. None can describe its shape or nature, but it is a word of terror along the Amazon. Now all tribes agree as to the direction in which Curupuri lives. It was the same direction from which the American had come. Something terrible lay that way. It was my business to find out what it was.”

      “What did you do?” My flippancy was all gone. This massive man compelled one’s attention and respect.

      “I overcame the extreme reluctance of the natives – a reluctance which extends even to talk upon the subject – and by judicious persuasion and gifts, aided, I will admit, by some threats of coercion, I got two of them to act as guides. After many adventures which I need not describe, and after traveling a distance which I will not mention, in a direction which I withhold, we came at last to a tract of country which has never been described, nor, indeed, visited save by my unfortunate predecessor. Would you kindly look at this?”

      He handed me a photograph – half-plate size.

      “The unsatisfactory appearance of it is due to the fact,” said he, “that on descending СКАЧАТЬ