This is the tale of Bradley after he left Fort Dinosaur upon thewest coast of the great lake that is in the center of the island.

Upon the fourth day of September, 1916, he set out with fourcompanions, Sinclair, Brady, James, and Tippet, to search alongthe base of the barrier cliffs for a point at which they mightbe scaled.

Through the heavy Caspakian air, beneath the swollen sun, thefive men marched northwest from Fort Dinosaur, now waist-deepin lush, jungle grasses starred with myriad gorgeous blooms, nowacross open meadow-land and parklike expanses and again plunginginto dense forests of eucalyptus and acacia and giant arboreousferns with feathered fronds waving gently a hundred feet abovetheir heads.

About them upon the ground, among the trees and in the air overthem moved and swung and soared the countless forms of Caspak'steeming life. Always were they menaced by some frightful thingand seldom were their rifles cool, yet even in the brief timethey had dwelt upon Caprona they had become callous to danger,so that they swung along laughing and chatting like soldiers ona summer hike.

"This reminds me of South Clark Street," remarked Brady, who hadonce served on the traffic squad in Chicago; and as no one askedhim why, he volunteered that it was "because it's no place foran Irishman."

"South Clark Street and heaven have something in common, then,"suggested Sinclair. James and Tippet laughed, and then a hideousgrowl broke from a dense thicket ahead and diverted theirattention to other matters.

"One of them behemoths of 'Oly Writ," muttered Tippet as they cameto a halt and with guns ready awaited the almost inevitable charge.

"Hungry lot o' beggars, these," said Bradley; "always trying toeat everything they see."

For a moment no further sound came from the thicket. "He may befeeding now," suggested Bradley. "We'll try to go around him. Can't waste ammunition. Won't last forever. Follow me." And heset off at right angles to their former course, hoping to averta charge. They had taken a dozen steps, perhaps, when thethicket moved to the advance of the thing within it, the leafybranches parted, and the hideous head of a gigantic bear emerged.

"Pick your trees," whispered Bradley. "Can't waste ammunition."

The men looked about them. The bear took a couple of stepsforward, still growling menacingly. He was exposed to theshoulders now. Tippet took one look at the monster and boltedfor the nearest tree; and then the bear charged. He chargedstraight for Tippet. The other men scattered for the varioustrees they had selected--all except Bradley. He stood watchingTippet and the bear. The man had a good start and the tree wasnot far away; but the speed of the enormous creature behind himwas something to marvel at, yet Tippet was in a fair way to makehis sanctuary when his foot caught in a tangle of roots and downhe went, his rifle flying from his hand and falling severalyards away. Instantly Bradley's piece was at his shoulder, therewas a sharp report answered by a roar of mingled rage and painfrom the carnivore. Tippet attempted to scramble to his feet.

"Lie still!" shouted Bradley. "Can't waste ammunition."

The bear halted in its tracks, wheeled toward Bradley and thenback again toward Tippet. Again the former's rifle spit angrily,and the bear turned again in his direction. Bradley shoutedloudly. "Come on, you behemoth of Holy Writ!" he cried. "Come on,you duffer! Can't waste ammunition." And as he saw the bearapparently upon the verge of deciding to charge him, heencouraged the idea by backing rapidly away, knowing that anangry beast will more often charge one who moves than one wholies still.

And the bear did charge. Like a bolt of lightning he flasheddown upon the Englishman. "Now run!" Bradley called to Tippetand himself turned in flight toward a nearby tree. The othermen, now safely ensconced upon various branches, watched the racewith breathless interest. Would Bradley make it? It seemedscarce possible. And if he didn't! James gasped at the thought. Six feet at the shoulder stood the frightful mountain ofblood-mad flesh and bone and sinew that was bearing down with thespeed of an express train upon the seemingly slow-moving man.

It all happened in a few seconds; but they were seconds thatseemed like hours to the men who watched. They saw Tippet leapto his feet at Bradley's shouted warning. They saw him run,stooping to recover his rifle as he passed the spot where ithad fallen. They saw him glance back toward Bradley, and then theysaw him stop short of the tree that might have given him safetyand turn back in the direction of the bear. Firing as he ran,Tippet raced after the great cave bear--the monstrous thing thatshould have been extinct ages before--ran for it and fired evenas the beast was almost upon Bradley. The men in the treesscarcely breathed. It seemed to them such a futile thing forTippet to do, and Tippet of all men! They had never looked uponTippet as a coward--there seemed to be no cowards among thatstrangely assorted company that Fate had gathered together fromthe four corners of the earth--but Tippet was considered acautious man. Overcautious, some thought him. How futile he andhis little pop-gun appeared as he dashed after that living engineof destruction! But, oh, how glorious! It was some such thoughtas this that ran through Brady's mind, though articulated itmight have been expressed otherwise, albeit more forcefully.

Just then it occurred to Brady to fire and he, too, opened uponthe bear, but at the same instant the animal stumbled and fellforward, though still growling most fearsomely. Tippet neverstopped running or firing until he stood within a foot of thebrute, which lay almost touching Bradley and was alreadystruggling to regain its feet. Placing the muzzle of his gunagainst the bear's ear, Tippet pulled the trigger. The creaturesank limply to the ground and Bradley scrambled to his feet.

"Good work, Tippet," he said. "Mightily obliged to you--awfulwaste of ammunition, really."

And then they resumed the march and in fifteen minutes theencounter had ceased even to be a topic of conversation.

For two days they continued upon their perilous way. Already thecliffs loomed high and forbidding close ahead without sign ofbreak to encourage hope that somewhere they might be scaled. Late in the afternoon the party crossed a small stream of warmwater upon the sluggishly moving surface of which floatedcountless millions of tiny green eggs surrounded by a light scumof the same color, though of a darker shade. Their pastexperience of Caspak had taught them that they might expect tocome upon a stagnant pool of warm water if they followed thestream to its source; but there they were almost certain to findsome of Caspak's grotesque, manlike creatures. Already sincethey had disembarked from the U-33 after its perilous tripthrough the subterranean channel beneath the barrier cliffs hadbrought them into the inland sea of Caspak, had they encounteredwhat had appeared to be three distinct types of these creatures. There had been the pure apes--huge, gorillalike beasts--and thosewho walked, a trifle more erect and had features with just ashade more of the human cast about them. Then there were menlike Ahm, whom they had captured and confined at the fort--Ahm,the club-man. "Well-known club-man," Tyler had called him. Ahmand his people had knowledge of a speech. They had a language,in which they were unlike the race just inferior to them, andthey walked much more erect and were less hairy: but it wasprincipally the fact that they possessed a spoken language andcarried a weapon that differentiated them from the others.

All of these peoples had proven belligerent in the extreme. Incommon with the rest of the fauna of Caprona the first law ofnature as they seemed to understand it was to kill--kill--kill. And so it was that Bradley had no desire to follow up the littlestream toward the pool near which were sure to be the caves ofsome savage tribe, but fortune played him an unkind trick, forthe pool was much closer than he imagined, its southern endreaching fully a mile south of the point at which they crossedthe stream, and so it was that after forcing their way through atangle of jungle vegetation they came out upon the edge of thepool which they had wished to avoid.

Almost simultaneously there appeared south of them a party ofnaked men armed with clubs and hatchets. Both parties halted asthey caught sight of one another. The men from the fort sawbefore them a hunting party evidently returning to its caves orvillage laden with meat. They were large men with featuresclosely resembling those of the African Negro though theirskins were white. Short hair grew upon a large portion of theirlimbs and bodies, which still retained a considerable trace ofapish progenitors. They were, however, a distinctly higher typethan the Bo-lu, or club-men.

Bradley would have been glad to have averted a meeting; but as hedesired to lead his party south around the end of the pool, andas it was hemmed in by the jungle on one side and the water onthe other, there seemed no escape from an encounter.

On the chance that he might avoid a clash, Bradley steppedforward with upraised hand. "We are friends, " he called in thetongue of Ahm, the Bolu, who had been held a prisoner at thefort; "permit us to pass in peace. We will not harm you."

At this the hatchet-men set up a great jabbering with muchlaughter, loud and boisterous. "No," shouted one, "you will notharm us, for we shall kill you. Come! We kill! We kill!" And with hideous shouts they charged down upon the Europeans.

"Sinclair, you may fire," said Bradley quietly." Pick offthe leader. Can't waste ammunition."

The Englishman raised his piece to his shoulder and took quickaim at the breast of the yelling savage leaping toward them. Directly behind the leader came another hatchet-man, and with thereport of Sinclair's rifle both warriors lunged forward in thetall grass, pierced by the same bullet. The effect upon the restof the band was electrical. As one man they came to a suddenhalt, wheeled to the east and dashed into the jungle, where themen could hear them forcing their way in an effort to put as muchdistance as possible between themselves and the authors of thisnew and frightful noise that killed warriors at a great distance.

Both the savages were dead when Bradley approached to examinethem, and as the Europeans gathered around, other eyes were bentupon them with greater curiosity than they displayed for thevictim of Sinclair's bullet. When the party again took up themarch around the southern end of the pool the owner of the eyesfollowed them--large, round eyes, almost expressionless exceptfor a certain cold cruelty which glinted malignly from undertheir pale gray irises.

All unconscious of the stalker, the men came, late in theafternoon, to a spot which seemed favorable as a campsite. A cold spring bubbled from the base of a rocky formation whichoverhung and partially encircled a small inclosure. At Bradley'scommand, the men took up the duties assigned them--gatheringwood, building a cook-fire and preparing the evening meal. It was while they were thus engaged that Brady's attention wasattracted by the dismal flapping of huge wings. He glanced up,expecting to see one of the great flying reptiles of a bygoneage, his rifle ready in his hand. Brady was a brave man. He hadgroped his way up narrow tenement stairs and taken an armedmaniac from a dark room without turning a hair; but now as helooked up, he went white and staggered back.

"Gawd!" he almost screamed. "What is it?"

Attracted by Brady's cry the others seized their rifles as theyfollowed his wide-eyed, frozen gaze, nor was there one of themthat was not moved by some species of terror or awe. Then Bradyspoke again in an almost inaudible voice. "Holy Mother protectus--it's a banshee!"

Bradley, always cool almost to indifference in the face ofdanger, felt a strange, creeping sensation run over his flesh, asslowly, not a hundred feet above them, the thing flapped itselfacross the sky, its huge, round eyes glaring down upon them. And until it disappeared over the tops of the trees of a near-bywood the five men stood as though paralyzed, their eyes neverleaving the weird shape; nor never one of them appearing to recallthat he grasped a loaded rifle in his hands.

With the passing of the thing, came the reaction. Tippet sank tothe ground and buried his face in his hands. "Oh, Gord," he moaned. "Tyke me awy from this orful plice." Brady, recovered from thefirst shock, swore loud and luridly. He called upon all thesaints to witness that he was unafraid and that anybody with halfan eye could have seen that the creature was nothing more than"one av thim flyin' alligators" that they all were familiar with.

"Yes," said Sinclair with fine sarcasm, "we've saw so many ofthem with white shrouds on 'em."

"Shut up, you fool!" growled Brady. "If you know so much, tellus what it was after bein' then."

Then he turned toward Bradley. "What was it, sor, do you think?"he asked.

Bradley shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "It looked likea winged human being clothed in a flowing white robe. Its facewas more human than otherwise. That is the way it looked to me;but what it really was I can't even guess, for such a creature isas far beyond my experience or knowledge as it is beyond yours. All that I am sure of is that whatever else it may have been, itwas quite material--it was no ghost; rather just another of thestrange forms of life which we have met here and with which weshould be accustomed by this time."

Tippet looked up. His face was still ashy. "Yer cawn't tellme," he cried. "Hi seen hit. Blime, Hi seen hit. Hit was hadead man flyin' through the hair. Didn't Hi see 'is heyes? Oh, Gord! Didn't Hi see 'em?"

"It didn't look like any beast or reptile to me," spoke up Sinclair. "It was lookin' right down at me when I looked up and I saw itsface plain as I see yours. It had big round eyes that looked allcold and dead, and its cheeks were sunken in deep, and I could seeits yellow teeth behind thin, tight-drawn lips--like a man who hadbeen dead a long while, sir," he added, turning toward Bradley.

"Yes!" James had not spoken since the apparition had passed over them,and now it was scarce speech which he uttered--rather a series ofarticulate gasps. "Yes--dead--a--long--while. It--means something. It--come--for some--one. For one--ofus. One--of us is goin'--to die. I'm goin' to die!" he ended in a wail.

"Come! Come!" snapped Bradley. "Won't do. Won't do at all. Get to work, all of you. Waste of time. Can't waste time."

His authoritative tones brought them all up standing, andpresently each was occupied with his own duties; but each workedin silence and there was no singing and no bantering such as hadmarked the making of previous camps. Not until they had eatenand to each had been issued the little ration of smoking tobaccoallowed after each evening meal did any sign of a relaxation oftaut nerves appear. It was Brady who showed the first signs ofreturning good spirits. He commenced humming "It's a Long Way toTipperary" and presently to voice the words, but he was well intohis third song before anyone joined him, and even then thereseemed a dismal note in even the gayest of tunes.

A huge fire blazed in the opening of their rocky shelter that theprowling carnivora might be kept at bay; and always one man stoodon guard, watchfully alert against a sudden rush by some maddenedbeast of the jungle. Beyond the fire, yellow-green spots offlame appeared, moved restlessly about, disappeared andreappeared, accompanied by a hideous chorus of screams and growlsand roars as the hungry meat-eaters hunting through the nightwere attracted by the light or the scent of possible prey.

But to such sights and sounds as these the five men hadbecome callous. They sang or talked as unconcernedly as theymight have done in the bar-room of some publichouse at home.

Sinclair was standing guard. The others were listening toBrady's description of traffic congestion at the Rush Streetbridge during the rush hour at night. The fire crackled cheerily. The owners of the yellow-green eyes raised their frightful chorusto the heavens. Conditions seemed again to have returned to normal. And then, as though the hand of Death had reached out and touchedthem all, the five men tensed into sudden rigidity.

Above the nocturnal diapason of the teeming jungle sounded adismal flapping of wings and over head, through the thick night,a shadowy form passed across the diffused light of the flaringcamp-fire. Sinclair raised his rifle and fired. An eerie wailfloated down from above and the apparition, whatever it mighthave been, was swallowed by the darkness. For several secondsthe listening men heard the sound of those dismally flapping wingslessening in the distance until they could no longer be heard.

Bradley was the first to speak. "Shouldn't have fired,Sinclair," he said; "can't waste ammunition." But there wasno note of censure in his tone. It was as though he understoodthe nervous reaction that had compelled the other's act.

"I couldn't help it, sir," said Sinclair. "Lord, it would takean iron man to keep from shootin' at that awful thing. Do youbelieve in ghosts, sir?"

"No," replied Bradley. "No such things."

"I don't know about that," said Brady. "There was a womanmurdered over on the prairie near Brighton--her throat was cutfrom ear to ear, and--"

"Shut up," snapped Bradley.

"My grandaddy used to live down Coppington wy," said Tippet. "They were a hold ruined castle on a 'ill near by, hand at midnightthey used to see pale blue lights through the windows an 'ear--"

"Will you close your hatch!" demanded Bradley. "You fools willhave yourselves scared to death in a minute. Now go to sleep."

But there was little sleep in camp that night until utterexhaustion overtook the harassed men toward morning; nor wasthere any return of the weird creature that had set the nerves ofeach of them on edge.

The following forenoon the party reached the base of the barriercliffs and for two days marched northward in an effort todiscover a break in the frowning abutment that raised its rockyface almost perpendicularly above them, yet nowhere was there theslightest indication that the cliffs were scalable.

Disheartened, Bradley determined to turn back toward the fort, ashe already had exceeded the time decided upon by Bowen Tyler andhimself for the expedition. The cliffs for many miles had beentrending in a northeasterly direction, indicating to Bradley thatthey were approaching the northern extremity of the island. According to the best of his calculations they had madesufficient easting during the past two days to have brought themto a point almost directly north of Fort Dinosaur and as nothingcould be gained by retracing their steps along the base of thecliffs he decided to strike due south through the unexploredcountry between them and the fort.

That night (September 9, 1916), they made camp a short distancefrom the cliffs beside one of the numerous cool springs that areto be found within Caspak, oftentimes close beside the stillmore numerous warm and hot springs which feed the many pools. After supper the men lay smoking and chatting among themselves. Tippet was on guard. Fewer night prowlers threatened them, andthe men were commenting upon the fact that the farther north theyhad traveled the smaller the number of all species of animalsbecame, though it was still present in what would have seemedappalling plenitude in any other part of the world. The diminutionin reptilian life was the most noticeable change in the fauna ofnorthern Caspak. Here, however, were forms they had not metelsewhere, several of which were of gigantic proportions.

According to their custom all, with the exception of the man onguard, sought sleep early, nor, once disposed upon the ground forslumber, were they long in finding it. It seemed to Bradley thathe had scarcely closed his eyes when he was brought to his feet,wide awake, by a piercing scream which was punctuated by thesharp report of a rifle from the direction of the fire whereTippet stood guard. As he ran toward the man, Bradley heardabove him the same uncanny wail that had set every nerve on edgeseveral nights before, and the dismal flapping of huge wings. He did not need to look up at the white-shrouded figure wingingslowly away into the night to know that their grim visitorhad returned.

The muscles of his arm, reacting to the sight and sound of themenacing form, carried his hand to the butt of his pistol; butafter he had drawn the weapon, he immediately returned it to itsholster with a shrug.

"What for?" he muttered. "Can't waste ammunition." Then hewalked quickly to where Tippet lay sprawled upon his face. By this time James, Brady and Sinclair were at his heels, eachwith his rifle in readiness.

"Is he dead, sir?" whispered James as Bradley kneeled beside theprostrate form.

Bradley turned Tippet over on his back and pressed an ear closeto the other's heart. In a moment he raised his head. "Fainted," he announced. "Get water. Hurry!" Then he loosenedTippet's shirt at the throat and when the water was brought,threw a cupful in the man's face. Slowly Tippet regainedconsciousness and sat up. At first he looked curiously into thefaces of the men about him; then an expression of terroroverspread his features. He shot a startled glance up into theblack void above and then burying his face in his arms began tosob like a child.

"What's wrong, man?" demanded Bradley. "Buck up! Can't playcry-baby. Waste of energy. What happened?"

"Wot 'appened, sir!" wailed Tippet. "Oh, Gord, sir! Hit came back. Hit came for me, sir. Right hit did, sir; strite hat me, sir;hand with long w'ite 'ands it clawed for me. Oh, Gord! Hit almostcaught me, sir. Hi'm has good as dead; Hi'm a marked man; that'swot Hi ham. Hit was a-goin' for to carry me horf, sir."

"Stuff and nonsense," snapped Bradley. "Did you get a good lookat it?"

Tippet said that he did--a much better look than he wanted. The thing had almost clutched him, and he had looked straightinto its eyes--"dead heyes in a dead face," he had described them.

"Wot was it after bein', do you think?" inquired Brady.

"Hit was Death," moaned Tippet, shuddering, and again a pall ofgloom fell upon the little party.

The following day Tippet walked as one in a trance. He neverspoke except in reply to a direct question, which more often thannot had to be repeated before it could attract his attention. He insisted that he was already a dead man, for if the thing didn'tcome for him during the day he would never live through anothernight of agonized apprehension, waiting for the frightful endthat he was positive was in store for him. "I'll see to that,"he said, and they all knew that Tippet meant to take his own lifebefore darkness set in.

Bradley tried to reason with him, in his short, crisp way, butsoon saw the futility of it; nor could he take the man's weaponsfrom him without subjecting him to almost certain death from anyof the numberless dangers that beset their way.

The entire party was moody and glum. There was none of thebantering that had marked their intercourse before, even in theface of blighting hardships and hideous danger. This was a newmenace that threatened them, something that they couldn'texplain; and so, naturally, it aroused within them superstitiousfear which Tippet's attitude only tended to augment. To addfurther to their gloom, their way led through a dense forest,where, on account of the underbrush, it was difficult to makeeven a mile an hour. Constant watchfulness was required to avoidthe many snakes of various degrees of repulsiveness and enormitythat infested the wood; and the only ray of hope they had tocling to was that the forest would, like the majority ofCaspakian forests, prove to be of no considerable extent.

Bradley was in the lead when he came suddenly upon a grotesquecreature of Titanic proportions. Crouching among the trees,which here commenced to thin out slightly, Bradley saw whatappeared to be an enormous dragon devouring the carcass ofa mammoth. From frightful jaws to the tip of its long tail itwas fully forty feet in length. Its body was covered with platesof thick skin which bore a striking resemblance to armor-plate. The creature saw Bradley almost at the same instant that he sawit and reared up on its enormous hind legs until its head towereda full twenty-five feet above the ground. From the cavernousjaws issued a hissing sound of a volume equal to the escaping steamfrom the safety-valves of half a dozen locomotives, and then thecreature came for the man.

"Scatter!" shouted Bradley to those behind him; and all butTippet heeded the warning. The man stood as though dazed, andwhen Bradley saw the other's danger, he too stopped and wheelingabout sent a bullet into the massive body forcing its way throughthe trees toward him. The shot struck the creature in the bellywhere there was no protecting armor, eliciting a new note whichrose in a shrill whistle and ended in a wail. It was then thatTippet appeared to come out of his trance, for with a cry ofterror he turned and fled to the left. Bradley, seeing that hehad as good an opportunity as the others to escape, now turned hisattention to extricating himself; and as the woods seemed denseon the right, he ran in that direction, hoping that the close-setboles would prevent pursuit on the part of the great reptile. The dragon paid no further attention to him, however, for Tippet'ssudden break for liberty had attracted its attention; and afterTippet it went, bowling over small trees, uprooting underbrushand leaving a wake behind it like that of a small tornado.

Bradley, the moment he had discovered the thing was pursuingTippet, had followed it. He was afraid to fire for fear ofhitting the man, and so it was that he came upon them at the verymoment that the monster lunged its great weight forward upon thedoomed man. The sharp, three-toed talons of the forelimbs seizedpoor Tippet, and Bradley saw the unfortunate fellow lifted highabove the ground as the creature again reared up on its hindlegs, immediately transferring Tippet's body to its gaping jaws,which closed with a sickening, crunching sound as Tippet's bonescracked beneath the great teeth.

Bradley half raised his rifle to fire again and then lowered itwith a shake of his head. Tippet was beyond succor--why waste abullet that Caspak could never replace? If he could now escapethe further notice of the monster it would be a wiser act than tothrow his life away in futile revenge. He saw that the reptilewas not looking in his direction, and so he slipped noiselesslybehind the bole of a large tree and thence quietly faded away inthe direction he believed the others to have taken. At what heconsidered a safe distance he halted and looked back. Half hiddenby the intervening trees he still could see the huge head and themassive jaws from which protrude the limp legs of the dead man. Then, as though struck by the hammer of Thor, the creaturecollapsed and crumpled to the ground. Bradley's single bullet,penetrating the body through the soft skin of the belly, had slainthe Titan.

A few minutes later, Bradley found the others of the party. The four returned cautiously to the spot where the creature layand after convincing themselves that it was quite dead, came closeto it. It was an arduous and gruesome job extricating Tippet'smangled remains from the powerful jaws, the men working for themost part silently.

"It was the work of the banshee all right," muttered Brady. "It warned poor Tippet, it did."

"Hit killed him, that's wot hit did, hand hit'll kill some moreof us," said James, his lower lip trembling.

"If it was a ghost," interjected Sinclair, "and I don't say as itwas; but if it was, why, it could take on any form it wanted to. It might have turned itself into this thing, which ain't nonatural thing at all, just to get poor Tippet. If it had of beena lion or something else humanlike it wouldn't look so strange;but this here thing ain't humanlike. There ain't no such thingan' never was."

"Bullets don't kill ghosts," said Bradley, "so this couldn't havebeen a ghost. Furthermore, there are no such things. I've beentrying to place this creature. Just succeeded. It's a tyrannosaurus. Saw picture of skeleton in magazine. There's one in New YorkNatural History Museum. Seems to me it said it was found in placecalled Hell Creek somewhere in western North America. Supposed tohave lived about six million years ago."

"Hell Creek's in Montana," said Sinclair. "I used to punch cowsin Wyoming, an' I've heard of Hell Creek. Do you s'pose thatthere thing's six million years old?" His tone was skeptical.

"No," replied Bradley; "But it would indicate that the islandof Caprona has stood almost without change for more than sixmillion years."

The conversation and Bradley's assurance that the creature wasnot of supernatural origin helped to raise a trifle the spiritsof the men; and then came another diversion in the form ofravenous meat-eaters attracted to the spot by the uncanny senseof smell which had apprised them of the presence of flesh, killedand ready for the eating.

It was a constant battle while they dug a grave and consigned allthat was mortal of John Tippet to his last, lonely resting-place. Nor would they leave then; but remained to fashion a rude head-stone from a crumbling out-cropping of sandstone and to gathera mass of the gorgeous flowers growing in such great profusionaround them and heap the new-made grave with bright blooms. Upon the headstone Sinclair scratched in rude characters the words:

HERE LIES JOHN TIPPETENGLISHMANKILLED BY TYRANNOSAURUS10 SEPT. A.D. 1916R.I.P.

and Bradley repeated a short prayer before they left theircomrade forever.

For three days the party marched due south through forests andmeadow-land and great park-like areas where countless herbivorousanimals grazed--deer and antelope and bos and the little ecca,the smallest species of Caspakian horse, about the size of a rabbit. There were other horses too; but all were small, the largest beingnot above eight hands in height. Preying continually upon theherbivora were the meat-eaters, large and small--wolves, hyaenadons,panthers, lions, tigers, and bear as well as several large andferocious species of reptilian life.

On September twelfth the party scaled a line of sandstone cliffswhich crossed their route toward the south; but they crossed themonly after an encounter with the tribe that inhabited the numerouscaves which pitted the face of the escarpment. That night theycamped upon a rocky plateau which was sparsely wooded with jarrah,and here once again they were visited by the weird, nocturnalapparition that had already filled them with a nameless terror.

As on the night of September ninth the first warning camefrom the sentinel standing guard over his sleeping companions. A terror-stricken cry punctuated by the crack of a rifle broughtBradley, Sinclair and Brady to their feet in time to see James,with clubbed rifle, battling with a white-robed figure thathovered on widespread wings on a level with the Englishman's head. As they ran, shouting, forward, it was obvious to them that theweird and terrible apparition was attempting to seize James; butwhen it saw the others coming to his rescue, it desisted,flapping rapidly upward and away, its long, ragged wings givingforth the peculiarly dismal notes which always characterized thesound of its flying.

Bradley fired at the vanishing menacer of their peace and safety;but whether he scored a hit or not, none could tell, though,following the shot, there was wafted back to them the samepiercing wail that had on other occasions frozen their marrow.

Then they turned toward James, who lay face downward upon theground, trembling as with ague. For a time he could not evenspeak, but at last regained sufficient composure to tell themhow the thing must have swooped silently upon him from aboveand behind as the first premonition of danger he had receivedwas when the long, clawlike fingers had clutched him beneatheither arm. In the melee his rifle had been discharged and hehad broken away at the same instant and turned to defend himselfwith the butt. The rest they had seen.

From that instant James was an absolutely broken man. He maintained with shaking lips that his doom was sealed, thatthe thing had marked him for its own, and that he was as good asdead, nor could any amount of argument or raillery convince himto the contrary. He had seen Tippet marked and claimed and nowhe had been marked. Nor were his constant reiterations of thisbelief without effect upon the rest of the party. Even Bradleyfelt depressed, though for the sake of the others he managed tohide it beneath a show of confidence he was far from feeling.

And on the following day William James was killed by asaber-tooth tiger--September 13, 1916. Beneath a jarrah tree onthe stony plateau on the northern edge of the Sto-lu country inthe land that Time forgot, he lies in a lonely grave marked by arough headstone.

Southward from his grave marched three grim and silent men. To the best of Bradley's reckoning they were some twenty-fivemiles north of Fort Dinosaur, and that they might reach the forton the following day, they plodded on until darkness overtook them. With comparative safety fifteen miles away, they made camp at last;but there was no singing now and no joking. In the bottom of hisheart each prayed that they might come safely through just thisnight, for they knew that during the morrow they would make thefinal stretch, yet the nerves of each were taut with strainedanticipation of what gruesome thing might flap down upon them fromthe black sky, marking another for its own. Who would be the next?

As was their custom, they took turns at guard, each man doing twohours and then arousing the next. Brady had gone on from eightto ten, followed by Sinclair from ten to twelve, then Bradley hadbeen awakened. Brady would stand the last guard from two tofour, as they had determined to start the moment that it becamelight enough to insure comparative safety upon the trail.

The snapping of a twig aroused Brady out of a dead sleep, and ashe opened his eyes, he saw that it was broad daylight and that attwenty paces from him stood a huge lion. As the man sprang tohis feet, his rifle ready in his hand, Sinclair awoke and took inthe scene in a single swift glance. The fire was out and Bradleywas nowhere in sight. For a long moment the lion and the meneyed one another. The latter had no mind to fire if the beastminded its own affairs--they were only too glad to let it go itsway if it would; but the lion was of a different mind.

Suddenly the long tail snapped stiffly erect, and as though ithad been attached to two trigger fingers the two rifles spoke inunison, for both men knew this signal only too well--theimmediate forerunner of a deadly charge. As the brute's head hadbeen raised, his spine had not been visible; and so they did whatthey had learned by long experience was best to do. Each covereda front leg, and as the tail snapped aloft, fired. With ahideous roar the mighty flesh-eater lurched forward to the groundwith both front legs broken. It was an easy accomplishment inthe instant before the beast charged--after, it would have beenwell-nigh an impossible feat. Brady stepped close in and finishedhim with a shot in the base of the brain lest his terrificroarings should attract his mate or others of their kind.

Then the two men turned and looked at one another. "Where isLieutenant Bradley?" asked Sinclair. They walked to the fire. Only a few smoking embers remained. A few feet away layBradley's rifle. There was no evidence of a struggle. The twomen circled about the camp twice and on the last lap Bradystooped and picked up an object which had lain about ten yardsbeyond the fire--it was Bradley's cap. Again the two lookedquestioningly at one another, and then, simultaneously, bothpairs of eyes swung upward and searched the sky. A moment laterBrady was examining the ground about the spot where Bradley's caphad lain. It was one of those little barren, sandy stretchesthat they had found only upon this stony plateau. Brady's ownfootsteps showed as plainly as black ink upon white paper; buthis was the only foot that had marred the smooth, windsweptsurface--there was no sign that Bradley had crossed the spotupon the surface of the ground, and yet his cap lay welltoward the center of it.

Breakfastless and with shaken nerves the two survivors plungedmadly into the long day's march. Both were strong, courageous,resourceful men; but each had reached the limit of human nerveendurance and each felt that he would rather die than spendanother night in the hideous open of that frightful land. Vivid in the mind of each was a picture of Bradley's end, forthough neither had witnessed the tragedy, both could imagine almostprecisely what had occurred. They did not discuss it--they didnot even mention it--yet all day long the thing was uppermost inthe mind of each and mingled with it a similar picture with himselfas victim should they fail to make Fort Dinosaur before dark.

And so they plunged forward at reckless speed, their clothes,their hands, their faces torn by the retarding underbrush thatreached forth to hinder them. Again and again they fell; but beit to their credit that the one always waited and helped theother and that into the mind of neither entered the thought orthe temptation to desert his companion--they would reach the forttogether if both survived, or neither would reach it.

They encountered the usual number of savage beasts and reptiles;but they met them with a courageous recklessness born of desperation,and by virtue of the very madness of the chances they took, theycame through unscathed and with the minimum of delay.

Shortly after noon they reached the end of the plateau. Before them was a drop of two hundred feet to the valley beneath. To the left, in the distance, they could see the waters of thegreat inland sea that covers a considerable portion of the areaof the crater island of Caprona and at a little lesser distanceto the south of the cliffs they saw a thin spiral of smoke arisingabove the tree-tops.

The landscape was familiar--each recognized it immediatelyand knew that that smoky column marked the spot where Dinosaurhad stood. Was the fort still there, or did the smoke arisefrom the smoldering embers of the building they had helped tofashion for the housing of their party? Who could say!

Thirty precious minutes that seemed as many hours to theimpatient men were consumed in locating a precarious way from thesummit to the base of the cliffs that bounded the plateau uponthe south, and then once again they struck off upon level groundtoward their goal. The closer they approached the fort thegreater became their apprehension that all would not be well. They pictured the barracks deserted or the small companymassacred and the buildings in ashes. It was almost in a frenzyof fear that they broke through the final fringe of jungle andstood at last upon the verge of the open meadow a half-mile fromFort Dinosaur.

"Lord!" ejaculated Sinclair. "They are still there!" And he fellto his knees, sobbing.

Brady trembled like a leaf as he crossed himself and gave silentthanks, for there before them stood the sturdy ramparts ofDinosaur and from inside the inclosure rose a thin spiral ofsmoke that marked the location of the cook-house. All was well,then, and their comrades were preparing the evening meal!

Across the clearing they raced as though they had not alreadycovered in a single day a trackless, primeval country thatmight easily have required two days by fresh and untired men. Within hailing distance they set up such a loud shouting thatpresently heads appeared above the top of the parapet and soonanswering shouts were rising from within Fort Dinosaur. A momentlater three men issued from the inclosure and came forward tomeet the survivors and listen to the hurried story of the eleveneventful days since they had set out upon their expedition to thebarrier cliffs. They heard of the deaths of Tippet and James andof the disappearance of Lieutenant Bradley, and a new terrorsettled upon Dinosaur.

Olson, the Irish engineer, with Whitely and Wilson constitutedthe remnants of Dinosaur's defenders, and to Brady and Sinclairthey narrated the salient events that had transpired since Bradleyand his party had marched away on September 4th. They told themof the infamous act of Baron Friedrich von Schoenvorts and hisGerman crew who had stolen the U-33, breaking their parole, andsteaming away toward the subterranean opening through the barriercliffs that carried the waters of the inland sea into the openPacific beyond; and of the cowardly shelling of the fort.

They told of the disappearance of Miss La Rue in the night ofSeptember 11th, and of the departure of Bowen Tyler in search ofher, accompanied only by his Airedale, Nobs. Thus of theoriginal party of eleven Allies and nine Germans that hadconstituted the company of the U-33 when she left English watersafter her capture by the crew of the English tug there were butfive now to be accounted for at Fort Dinosaur. Benson, Tippet,James, and one of the Germans were known to be dead. It wasassumed that Bradley, Tyler and the girl had already succumbed tosome of the savage denizens of Caspak, while the fate of theGermans was equally unknown, though it might readily be believedthat they had made good their escape. They had had ample time toprovision the ship and the refining of the crude oil they haddiscovered north of the fort could have insured them an amplesupply to carry them back to Germany.