A Journey in Other Worlds [56]
than any we have here."
As they had but little rest the night before, they were all
tired. The warm breeze swayed the long dry grass, causing it to
give out a soft rustle; all birds except the flitting bats were
asleep among the tall ferns or on the great trees that spread
their branches towards heaven. There was nothing to recall a
picture of the huge monsters they had seen that day, or of the
still more to be dreaded terror these had borne witness to. Thus
night closes the activities of the day, and in its serene
grandeur the soul has time to think. While they thought,
however, drowsiness overcame them, and in a little while all were
asleep.
The double line of protection-wires encircled them like a silent
guard, while the methodical ticking of the alarm-clock that was
to wake them at the approach of danger, and register the hour of
interruption, formed a curious contrast to the irregular cries of
the night-hawks in the distance. Time and again some huge
iguanodon or a hipsohopus would pass, shaking the ground with its
tread; but so implicit was the travellers' trust in the vigilance
of their mechanical and tireless watch, that they slept on as
calmly and unconcernedly as though they had been in their beds at
home, while the tick was as constant and regular as a sentry's
march. The wires of course did not protect them from creatures
having wings, and they ran some risk of a visitation from the
blood-sucking bats. The far-away volcanoes occasionally sent up
sheets of flame, which in the distance were like summer
lightning; the torrents of lava and crashes that had sounded so
thunderous when near, were now like the murmur of the ocean's ebb
tide, lulling the terrestrials to deeper sleep. The pale moons
were at intervals momentarily obscured by the rushing clouds in
the upper air, only to reappear soon afterwards as serene as
before. All Nature seemed at rest.
Shortly before dawn there was an unusually heavy step. A moment
later the ever-vigilant batteries poured forth their current, and
the clang of the alarm-bell made the still night ring. In an
instant the three men were awake, each resting on one knee, with
their backs towards the centre and their polished barrels raised.
It was not long before they perceived the intruder by the
moonlight. A huge monster of the Triceratops prorsus species had
entered the camp. It was shaped something like an elephant, but
had ten or twelve times the bulk, being over forty feet in
length, not including the long, thick tail. The head carried two
huge horns on the forehead and one on the nose.
"A plague on my shot-gun!" said Cortlandt. "Had I known how much
of this kind of game we should see, I too should have brought a
rifle."
The monster was entangled in the wires, and in another second
would have stepped on the batteries that were still causing the
bell to ring.
"Aim for the heart," said Bearwarden to Ayrault. "When you show
me his ribs, I will follow you in the hole."
Ayrault instantly fired for a point just back of the left
foreleg. The explosion had the same effect as on the mastodon,
removing a half-barrel of hide, etc; and the next second
Bearwarden sent a bullet less than an inch from where Ayrault's
had stopped. Before the colossus could turn, each had caused
several explosions in close proximity to the first. The creature
was of course terribly wounded, and several ribs were cracked,
but no ball had gone through. With a roar it made straight for
the woods, and with surprising agility, running fully as fast as
an elephant. Bearwarden and Ayrault kept up a rapid fire at the
left hind leg, and soon completely disabled it. The dinosaur,
however, supported itself with its huge tail, and continued to
make good time. Knowing they could not give it a fatal wound at
the intervening distance, in the uncertain light, they stopped
firing and set out in pursuit. Cortlandt paused to stop the bell
that still rang, and then put his best foot foremost in regaining
his