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The World 1,000,000 Years Ago



Copyright, 1938, by Whitman Publishing Company
Printed in U. S. A.

in the
Lost Valley of Giants


Steaming heat from the moist jungle closed in like a great, damp blanket, heavy and stifling. Inside a tent, four men hat hunched over a little table covered with maps and charts.

Beyond the tent and at some distance lay the camp of the safari of native porters and hunters. A low monotonous chant accompanied by the weird thumping of tom-toms was punctuated by the deeper boom of the religious drum. This African noise-making was as much a part of the jungle night as the sounds made by wild beasts.

A bearded man wearing spectacles was evidently the leader of the small group of white men. He was Professor Grayson, and his companions were his nephew Hal Hardy, a geologist Larry Spencer, and the photographer Bob Woods.

The Professor nodded toward the native camp.

"They've been restless for the past week," he commented, "ever since we left the waters of the Bongo. Mobangi has thus far managed to keep them on the job, but they don't seem to like the country we're approaching—in which, I believe, no white man at least has ever set foot before."

Mobangi was the native headman in charge of the safari.

"Didn't you say, Uncle, that the natives believe this region to be the dwelling place of witches and spirits?" Hal asked.

"Yes, beyond the mountains lies the unknown," the Professor murmured solemnly, "and that is where we're going."

Something in the Professor's tone made them forget the heat of the jungle and the beating of the drums.

The Professor cleared his throat.

"I know you have been wondering just what I am after on this expedition," he said, "but the fact is that I don't know myself. Strange tales of a lost land of monsters have been told for years about this part of Africa. Usually they have been scoffed at and dismissed as tribal legends. The natives say that this lost land is Bongdevo, which means 'Land of Devil Dragons.'"

"You are going to find out—is that it?" the geologist said calmly.

Professor Grayson nodded.

"Boy, what a chance for pictures!" Bob exclaimed.

"I am not sure what we'll find," the Professor warned. "Here, among my notes, are some native drawings of some of the 'devil dragons'—you can see for yourselves how outlandish they look."

The men whistled in amazement at the sketch before them, depicting great beasts unlike any on the face of the earth—so far as they knew.

"All I can say is," the Professor continued, "that I don't think those creatures, drawn there in definite outline, can be figments of native imagination. The savage draws what he has seen, and it is hard to explain how he could have sketched such beasts if he had not seen or heard of something resembling them."

"Surely you have other evidence?" Larry Spencer questioned quietly.

"Oh, yes," the Professor agreed. "It was what decided me to come here. There came into my hands the well-authenticated diary of a French ivory hunter, supplied with maps, of which I have copies here. In this diary he told of stumbling into a mysterious land beyond mountain peaks, in the heart of darkest Africa, where he saw ferns growing like trees, bugs as big as beasts, and animals that could belong only in some terrible nightmare."

"I see," the geologist acknowledged. "Putting it all together, it is a formidable array of evidence, well worth investigating."

"I'll say!" Hal exulted.

Suddenly the Professor lifted his head, listening intently.

"The drums!" he cried. "They've ceased beating!"

Stillness, uncanny and unaccountable, closed in around the small group. The four men—two elderly and two quite young—started toward the tent flap. At that instant a figure stumbled in from the darkness outside.

It was Mobangi the headman, quaking with fright.

"Quick—why have the drums stopped?" Professor Grayson demanded.

Mobangi spoke in a jargon unintelligible to everyone except the Professor. Swiftly the leader pushed out of the tent with his three companions at his heels.

Not a single tribesman was left of the safari.

"Decamped—vamoosed—took French leave," the Professor said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Scared of the dark!" Bob scoffed.

"In places," the geologist observed in his quiet way, "Africa is a very dark continent—even today."

Returning to the tent, they found Mobangi still trembling. After a while he told his story—in a queer dialect of English he had picked up from missionaries and explorers. In moments of excitement he lapsed into his own tongue, which Professor Grayson could speak well enough.

"Togobe tribesmen no work no more," Mobangi said. "Mobangi he say numbody go-go big woods. Very bad luck—he say somebody die prutty quick allri. Bienby big devil drum he beat—Witch Doctor he say go way—everybody he go way. Numbody left."

Mobangi grinned, very much pleased with his speech.

The four white men looked at each other. They realized that they were left alone in the heart of the African jungle, with an unexplored land ahead of them beyond the high peaks.

No one cared to turn back, in spite of the obstacles confronting them. Without native porters to carry all the supplies and equipment, the going would be hard—but after a powwow they all voted to push on with Mobangi as their only native companion.


Next morning the intrepid explorers sorted over their gear, taking with them only what was absolutely necessary. They loaded their one light truck as heavily as they dared, but it was surprising how much they would have to leave behind.

Meanwhile Professor Grayson checked over the charts, planning their route, with the idea of going as far as possible before nightfall, unloading the truck and returning the next day for more. In a few days they could thus move everything really needed up to the foot of the mountains.

Everything went as planned. The remainder they left covered with tarpaulins, to protect it as well as possible until they returned that way—if and when they did get back.

All their traveling was uphill, and the moving of their required loads to the foot of the mountains took nine days.

Here they had to abandon the truck, as the mountain sides were steep and rocky. They cut down again on their supplies, leaving behind most of their food, all the water, all the gasoline and their radio equipment. Limiting themselves to the barest necessities, they took five bed rolls, a silk tent, a first aid kit, some food, a camera and supplies, a few scientific instruments, guns and ammunition, ropes, an ax, knives, and tools.

When they got this sorted out, it made a big pile. But somebody had the idea of making five little carts, such that each man could pull one as he climbed. In three days the carts were ready, and they pushed on.

Like a bunch of Eskimo dogs pulling at traces, they started up the mountain slopes.

That climb was an epic of struggle. Days and nights merged into a single long nightmare of laborious toiling, always upward. The carts were heavily loaded, and hauling them over rocks and boulders required the supreme exertion of strength. Every now and then one man had to leave his own cart to rescue one of the others that had become stuck.

The rocks over which the five men clambered were like a flight of steps that had become tilted, so that they would struggle up one side only to find it necessary to slide down the other side and climb another slope ahead of them again.

As they crept higher and higher, the air lost the steamy scent of the hot jungle and freshened, gradually becoming colder and colder the higher they went. Luckily they had heavy woolen clothing, so that, coupled with the warmth from their exertions, the men were not uncomfortable. But at night they huddled around a little alcohol stove in their silk tent in an effort to escape being frostbitten.

The wind howled and whistled, cutting flesh to the bone. Exhausted, every man rolled into his sleeping bag at night and fell at once into a sort of drugged, dreamless slumber—the sleep of utter physical fatigue.

After weary weeks of struggle, they stood at last on the crest of the mountains and gazed back at the jungles stretching a restless sea of dark green behind them.

But far more interesting was the mysterious land that lay before them down the other side of the mountains. It looked like another jungle spreading over a deep valley, far deeper than the one they had left. The vegetation was apparently very dense, but of a different aspect from that to which they were accustomed.

The valley was in the shape of a bowl completely surrounded by mountains. On the far opposite side could be seen the dim outlines of another chain of mountains towering even higher than the ones on which they stood.

The four white men and their one Negro companion found the descent far steeper than the climb had been. Slopes of smooth rock slanted downward in sheer areas for hundreds of feet at a time.

"Perhaps we'd better have a bite of lunch," the Professor suggested.

"And a picture or two," Bob seconded.

Bob posed the party with the three carts which remained after their climb, and took enough snapshots to be sure of a good one.

The Professor made observations of their exact location, and prepared a record of the trip which he placed in a tin can—an empty tea tin—under a high cairn or rock pile to mark it. This would be proof of their expedition should any misfortune overtake them in the unknown land they were about to penetrate.

Going down they had to take the wheels off the carts to prevent them from rushing upon them on the steep slopes. Time after time it was necessary to use ropes. Countless hours were consumed in this hard labor before the air became warmer and the descent less arduous.

As they neared the valley they noticed that it differed materially from the jungle they had left.

The vegetation was of some new species or kind. The trees did not look like trees at all—except in size. They looked more like tall, waving ferns and great mosses.

Larry Spencer seized his binoculars for a closer look.

"Holy smoke!" he exclaimed. "Those plants are just like overgrown horsetails, club mosses, and cycads!"

He was referring, of course, to the common wild plants familiar all over the world, but which normally grow to only a few inches in height. Those Larry saw were all of fifty or sixty FEET tall! To step among them would be much as though the explorers were reduced in size to a couple of inches in height and were walking into a bed of ordinary moss and similar undergrowth.

As the men went closer, their excitement grew to fever pitch. They had discarded their heavy clothing in the warmer climate, and four days later reached the floor of the valley.


Footsore and exhausted, they paused to make camp and rest for the night. After dinner they threw themselves on the ground before the tent. A thin curl of smoke wreathed up from the Professor's pipe as he motioned toward the queer vegetation ahead.

"Before us," he observed, "is a forgotten world. In there we may find animals—giant reptiles of the kind that roamed the earth millions of years ago. Judging from the type of vegetation, there may be all sorts of monsters familiar to our cave-dwelling ancestors, as shown by tracings of them on the walls of caves, or perhaps going back even before the day man first trod the earth."

"Professor, how do you account for a spot such as this remaining unchanged for so many millions of years?" Hal asked.

Hal's uncle thought a moment.

"Millions of years ago," he explained, "the earth was probably a flaming ball of molten rock thrown off by the sun. Over this hot liquid sphere hung clouds of steam. Through millions of eons the earth cooled. Water descended in torrents of rain. Warm shallow seas lapped at the shores of newly formed land. In these seas life was born."

The Professor paused to tap out his pipe.

"This first life was extremely simple—probably microscopic, one-celled creatures, like the microbes of today. In the long ages of time, higher and more complex forms of life developed. Through those millions of years, the earth also changed. The bare rock, under the pounding of wind and rain, became soil carpeted with moss. Jungles and swamps of ferns and similar growths covered the land. The seas became crowded with fish. First life on the land of any size was probably in the form of great insects. As life became more difficult in the seas, the fish were crowded out. Those that were adapted to do so, took to the land, and their breathing organs became changed to fit the new environment."

"That is what I know from geology," Hal put in. "But—"

"I'm coming to that," Professor Grayson said. "First remember that I am skipping over millions of years as though they were seconds. The Age of Reptiles appeared—when the dinosaurs flourished, some small, some large. Then something happened—just what we do not know. Almost overnight conditions changed. Dense jungles and swamps were wiped out. Cold winds blew from the north. The earth was encased in a glacier of ice. When again the warm winds blew and the ice melted, a new order of animals had replaced the reptiles. No specimen of the dinosaurs, so far as is known—remained alive. Mammals came into being, and before long a new creature, covered with a thin coat of hair, appeared. This creature looked insignificant, but he had a brain, and was able to invent and use tools. This creature was Man."

"Suppose this land ahead of us is a sort of island that survived that catastrophe?" Larry asked.

"Exactly," the Professor agreed. "My theory is that as the earth went through space during countless millions of years, it developed a wobble, like a top. Portions of the earth that once were warm, suddenly were shifted to the polar regions. What were once tropical jungles were buried under sheets of ice. Shaking itself like a wet terrier, the earth redistributed its climate."

"How does that account for this land before us being unaffected by such a cataclysm?" Hal queried.

"It," answered the Professor, "was one of the few land areas of the globe which remained potentially at the same latitude—this area must have been at the axis of the wobble, which would not shift as other land areas. Perhaps such a theory explains why the oldest known human records in the world are found in Africa—in Egypt."


The sun had scarcely risen before the adventurers were up, eager to devour the breakfast Mobangi was preparing. The Professor gazed anxiously at the dwindling food supply.

"I hope we'll be able to replenish it with game," he sighed.

"For one, I'm willing to go on half rations until we shoot something," asserted Hal.

Bob Woods and Larry Spencer readily agreed to the proposal. Each man had a rifle, for protection and for game, and no one believed the fast would be a hardship.

"Mebbe biemby see wildebeest," grinned Mobangi.

With the rising of the sun the heat increased. The solemn little group was outside the tent, eating biscuits and coffee when Mobangi's sharp eye detected a low-flying creature in the sky.

"Big bird," he shouted. "Get gun quick."

He sprang to the tent and seized one of the rifles as the others stared at the floating, soaring object.

"If that's a bird, then I'm a giraffe," Bob Woods remarked, scratching his head. "Looks more like a bat. Here goes for a picture."

Then he swung his camera into action.

Whatever it was, it certainly did not act like an ordinary bird, nor did it look like one, as Hal could see when, with a clatter of wings, it roosted on a rock some little distance away.

Professor Grayson was dancing up and down with eagerness.

"A Pteranodon!" he cried. "A true herald of the forgotten world!"

"Come again?" asked Bob.

The Professor laughed.

"You'll have to get used to some queer names," he explained. "This is a Pteranodon—" which the Professor pronounced ter-an-o-don "—and is a species of Pterodactyl" (ter-a-dak-til).

"Humph! Is it a bird?" Bob asked.

"No relation," continued the Professor. "Pterodactyls really were winged dinosaurs, or reptiles. They had thick, leather-like membranes for wings and a large beak filled with wicked teeth. At the front of each wing were three sharp claws. See them on that fellow sitting over there grinning at us?"

Larry shook his head as he stared at the creature.

"That fellow must measure fifteen feet from tip to tip."

"Some skeletons have been found," said the Professor, "measuring twenty feet, but this is a pretty good-sized one."

Mobangi slowly lifted his gun at the visitor, but Professor Grayson stopped the native with a wave of hand.

"Don't shoot him," said the scientist. "These beasts have probably never seen Man—have never heard the sound of a gun. Let us leave this land as peaceful as we can."

After watching them for a while, the curious flying reptile flapped its large leathery wings and with a screech flew off toward the jungle of ferns and mosses.

After the party had finished breakfast, Professor Grayson decided to leave Mobangi to guard the tent and possessions while he and the others went on their first tour of investigation in the forgotten world. As the explorers neared the high fern-like trees which bordered the jungle, they were startled by a buzzing, which momentarily grew louder.

Out of the jungle darted a big dragonfly, at least a foot and a half from wingtip to wingtip.

"Whew!" Hal exclaimed. "One of those fellows would make you see stars if he ever gave you a bump on the nose!"

Bob was actively snapping pictures of the insect.

Then Larry, the geologist, gave a cry of delight as he stooped to the ground, examining some object which proved to be a beetle fully six inches long.

"It's the father of all cockroaches," he declared.

"Yes," explained the Professor. "Millions of years ago, insects grew to tremendous size. These two, the dragonfly and the beetle, are excellent examples. We probably shall see more. But let us push on. Perhaps even more interesting sights await us."

Carefully lifting their rifles into a position where they would be instantly available for use, the adventurers pushed on and immediately found themselves shut off from the light of the sun by the heavy foliage of the deep jungle.


A peculiar growth of spongy fiber—the trunks of the club mosses and horsetails—towered about the party.

"I've seen the same markings as those in pieces of coal," recalled Hal.

"Coal really is petrified—more accurately, carbonized—trunks of plants such as these dating from many millions of years ago," said the Professor.

On they pushed through ground that became softer, oozing water that filled their footprints. The grade was gradually downward toward what seemed to be a clearing ahead.

Then suddenly a horrible scream rent the air, turning the blood of the four men to ice, causing them to clutch their guns. Starting as a deep throaty growl, it rose to a shrill shriek and then, almost as quickly as it came, died away. The noise was followed by a terrible thrashing and beating about.

Professor Grayson, seeing that all had a bad case of fright, urged them forward, but took the lead himself, knowing that a danger that is faced is far less terrorizing than one unseen.

Swiftly they passed through the thicket, guns ready for instant use, when almost like the flashing of a picture on a screen, they plunged into a clearing and found themselves on the edge of low swampy land.

Before them, half submerged in thick slime, was a great Brontosaur. His thick, short legs were like trunks of trees submerged in . the ooze, and his long, flexible tail was thrashing the mud. His long neck, like a snake with a small head, turned and twisted in an effort to reach an ugly creature perched on his back.

"It's a Tyrannosaur attacking a Brontosaur!" shouted Professor Grayson. "We are witnessing a primitive struggle for existence!"

The Tyrannosaur was a beast Tyrannosaur Attacking a Brontosaur that might have been conceived in a nightmare. His two hind legs, heavy and powerful, ended in sharp, saber-like claws. His forelegs were short and poorly developed, almost like small hands, and, indeed, it was as "hands" that he used them.

But the frightful appearance came from the huge head, shaped like a barrel, which split almost in half in a cruel grin which disclosed sharp pointed teeth set row upon row, rough and ragged like those of a huge alligator.

With his large jaws, the beast was tearing at the flesh of the unfortunate Brontosaur, and, despite the fact the Tyrannosaur was much smaller than the gigantic bulk of the creature attacked, it was clearly evident that the ponderous beast was no match for his lithe adversary. Under the the rending teeth and slashing claws of the Tyrannosaur, the Brontosaur's struggles became weaker and weaker—and finally ceased.

Fascinated, the party watched this death struggle of monsters, until the victorious Tyrannosaur fell to eating the animal he had killed.

Professor Grayson motioned the others back from the swamp. Hal and the others were so impressed that for nearly half an hour they walked without a spoken word. They followed along the edge of the swamp, forcing their way through the thickets, passing many queer creatures that seemed very tame.

Occasionally Bob halted the party to obtain photographs. It was about noon before they reached the end of the swamp, where the ground was more firm. They crossed a river and followed along the bank until it opened into a large lake.

Professor Grayson was greatly excited over the possibility of finding some of the more primitive forms of fish in the lake, and he announced plans for exploring it the following day. In order to cover more territory, the Professor detailed Bob and Hal to explore the lake, while he with Larry proposed to follow the jungle edge in the opposite direction toward the north. The rest of the day was spent in collecting plants, huge insects, and other objects of scientific value. It was dark before they turned toward camp.


The party had swung back from the lake and was pushing its way through a tangle of tropical vegetation, working up a slope to higher and firmer land, when Hal heard a thrashing in the bushes ahead. He gave a low warning and the four parted the fronds before them and gazed into a clearing.

For a full moment, Hal held his breath. Then Bob whispered:

"What is that thing, a tank?"

The beast Hal saw looked like a rhinoceros, save for the fact that he had three horns, one on his nose, the other two above his eyes. But his most distinguishing feature was a giant ruff, apparently a bone that rose back of his head. This armor plate made it extremely difficult for any adversary to attack the beast head on, and the only chance of overcoming him was a surprise attack from the rear.

"It's a Triceratops," Hal whispered, "and a swell specimen, too."

As Hal spoke another creature came waddling across the clearing, feeding from the low bushes and shrubs, paying no attention to the beast before him.

"Am I dreaming?" Bob whispered. "Or do you see the same thing I do?"

Hal nodded. The new creature, though huge in bulk, had a very small head which, due to his short forelegs, was carried just above the ground, permitting the animal to graze on low shrubs and grass. His body was slate gray and covered with what appeared to be warts. A long tail, which acted as a counter balance for the head, ended in big vicious spikes, but the most distinguishing feature of this beast was its back. On either side of the backbone ran two rows of plates which swayed as he walked and seemed intended for decoration rather than for any practical purposes. Hal called it a Stegosaur.

"Boy, but they built their animals fancy in those days!" Bob gasped, and unslung his camera ready to take photographs.

Neither of the big slow beasts paid the slightest attention to the exploring party. Emboldened by this, Bob worked his way across the edge of the clearing to where the Triceratops was grazing on the opposite side. The beast continued its feeding, and it seemed so harmless that Bob decided to make one last close-up.

Startled perhaps by the flashing of the camera lens, the Triceratops suddenly turned.

"Look out, Bob!", Hal cried. "He's going to charge."

True to his craft, Bob waited to snap the picture. Then he seized his camera and came dashing toward the others with several tons of infuriated beast at his heels.

It was remarkable the progress that so ponderous an animal could make. Hal held his breath. He could not fire, nor could anyone help, for Bob was in a direct line of fire with the guns of the others.

Rescue came from an unexpected quarter. Aroused by the commotion, the Stegosaur decided in his slow-witted way that there was fighting to be done. He moved forward to intercept the charge of the Triceratops.

Horrified, Hal saw that Bob was in a position to be crushed between the two angry beasts. Bob tried to increase his speed. Then he was plunged headlong when his foot caught on a partially buried rock.

The Stegosaur dashed over the prostrate body of the photographer, his mammoth feet missing Bob by inches. Then the Stegosaur and Triceratops met with a terrific crash—the Stegosaur was almost bowled over by the impact.

Hal ran to Bob's assistance to find the photographer sitting up in a daze. Save for the slightly wrenched ankle which he had turned in the fall, he was uninjured, and even his precious camera was barely scratched. Then he rose on his knees and calmly began taking pictures of the two beasts in combat.

For a few minutes the Triceratops made bull-like rushes at his adversary. Neither beast seemed to gain advantage in the struggle. Finally they both tired of fighting and turned to their grazing.

"They have such small brains," explained Professor Grayson, "that they are unable to concentrate, even on such an important matter as fighting!"

"Well, Bob," laughed Hal, "you have doubtless had the glory of having been the first man ever attacked by a dinosaur."

The photographer grinned ruefully.

"Not much glory," he said. "You can have it next time."

Back at camp Mobangi had a large pot of stew boiling. To the worn-out adventurers it tasted excellent, even after the cook informed them that it was made from a large lizard he had caught.

The evening was spent sorting the collection of the day and classifying it. Bob arranged a makeshift darkroom and busied himself developing the plates he had taken. The results were very good. Elated with their discoveries, the explorers went to bed.


Hal awoke to find clouds high overhead, obscuring the sun. There could be little doubt in anyone's mind that a heavy rain was due.

Nevertheless, Professor Grayson, after a consultation with the others, decided to push ahead with the exploration, as the time was limited by a lack of supplies. All, with the exception of Mobangi, who cast his eyes at the lowering black clouds and shook his head, were eager for more adventures that day.

"Much plenty rain prutty quick," Mobangi forecast. "Much plenty wind. Better not go-go big woods. Mum better wait."

The others laughed at Mobangi's fears, and, leaving him behind at camp, started off. The party separated at the foot of the slope. Hal and Bob started through the jungle toward the lake, while the Professor and Larry turned to the north.

It was much darker in the jungle, and as Hal and Bob struggled forward they fell more than once over a stump or vine, skinning knees and barking shins.

Finally they reached the lake, which seemed smooth and oily, gray with an ominous stillness that reflected the black heavy sky overhead.

Hal and Bob had carried hammer, nails, and rope from camp. They proceeded to build a raft. Under the circumstances the task was more than they had bargained for, and it was quite late in the afternoon before a raft fitting their requirements was finished. The sky now was much lighter, and while the sultry, damp heat was oppressive, they felt hopeful that the storm would blow over.

At first, Bob favored taking along his camera, but after some thought he decided to leave it hanging from one of the large horsetails until they returned. Climbing aboard the raft, the two young men pushed it off into the lake with long poles.

The raft had hardly left the shore when from the still water alongside the raft a horrible shape appeared—two large, staring eyes, a jaw filled with long, sharp teeth. To Hal, who gazed awe-stricken into this "face," it seemed almost to take on a fiendish leer. Bob, with great presence of mind, struck at it with his pole and the creature sank out of sight.

"After that," grunted Bob, "I've got less enthusiasm for this boating trip. What the heck was that thing, Hal, a crocodile?"

Hal grinned at him.

"No," said Hal, "unless I am badly mistaken that was an Ichthyosaur."

"A what?"

Hal pronounced it for him slowly—"Ick-thi-o-sawr. It's a dinosaur, only instead of flying through the air or walking on land or wading in swamps, it swims in water."

They had just recovered from their unpleasant experience when Bob let out a warwhoop and pointed dead ahead. Toward the raft was coming a solid wall of water, fully three feet high, driven by one of those tropical monsoons. Behind it the lake was being lashed to a fury by a wind what must have had the force of a tornado.

Hal and Bob flung themselves down on the raft and seized the ropes which held the pulpy logs together, waiting for the inevitable.

"Don't let go," Hal shouted to Bob over the howl and shriek of the wind.

p Then the wave hit like a cannon ball. It flung the raft up on one end, nearly turning it over; then, as it righted, the two were buried under tons of water.

Hal clung to the little raft, expecting it to break apart any moment. It was under water from the giant wave and from a rain that followed. The rain was of a velocity and duration impossible for anyone to imagine—a truly tropical hurricane. Although Bob was only a few feet from Hal, neither could see the other.

Suddenly the raft was shaken violently, as though some huge animal had it in his teeth. One end was raised high in the air and Hal slid across the wet, slippery boards, his fingers clutching at anything that offered a hold. A long, black, slimy neck curled over the edge of the raft—and Hal found himself face to face with a horrible, grinning creature.

Hal shrank back, and as he did so, he lost his hold on the raft, which seemed to be breaking apart beneath the impact of the large body of the creature, which apparently had risen from the waters underneath the raft.

Hal slid into the murky water. Then as he felt the suction of the great body near by, he struck out swimming, not knowing nor caring where he was going, satisfied only to escape from that awful animal.

He swam until he was nearly exhausted. Then his hand struck a root and he pulled himself up on land. It was too dark to see what had become of Bob.

Hal decided he would be safer off the ground, and he climbed one of the fern-like trees to spend the night.


Wet through to the skin, Hal sat there in the tree, wondering what had become of Bob. Occasionally Hal would shout, but above the steady drumming of the pelting rain, Hal's voice could not have carried more than twenty feet. He dared not close his eyes for fear that he might topple into Heaven knew what danger below.

Hal knew that at times tropical storms lasted for days, and there was very little chance of rescue as long as it lasted, for without boats, his companions at the camp—assuming they were safe—could reach him only by building a raft, which was out of question in that downpour.

After what had seemed an interminable length of time, the sky lightened a little and Hal could make out objects below him. Apparently Hal had managed to reach a small island some distance out in the lake. It was hardly more than a few square feet in area, supporting several large cycads—in one of which, Hal perched.

Four horrible slimy creatures with long necks and rows of flashing teeth grinned up at Hal. The youthful adventurer readily recognized these as Plesiosaurs, a species of dinosaur which lived in the water and, was poorly equipped for land navigation. In appearance their bodies were not unlike those of seals, but their long necks and horrible heads made them at once grotesque and horrible.

Hal had no intentions of making a meal for some creature that should have been dead millions of years ago so he stayed in his "tree." Soon he could make out the shore of the lake, but he could see no signs of Bob. Then as the hours dragged by and the rain began to lessen, Hal's hope of rescue increased.

It was mid-afternoon, more than twenty-four hours since Bob and Hal had set out on the lake in the raft, when Hal noticed something approaching across the lake. It moved slowly. Through the mist and rain Hal could not make out its shape. As the rain beat heavily it would disappear and then reappear as soon as the downpour slackened.

At last he could make out the form of a man and Hal shouted. There could be only one man on that lake. It was Bob, crouched upon what was left of the raft and making toward Hal's island.

The stupid animals at the foot of Hal's refuge paid little attention as the raft swung in closer and closer. One of them easily could smash the frail craft to pieces, and, once in the water, Bob's plight would be desperate.

"Go easy, old man!" urged Hal.

Bob stood off a few moments, looking over the ground, measuring the caliber of his adversaries, apparently trying to decide if the animals would turn on him, or if they could be driven off. Bob's only weapon was the one pole he had saved from the wreck.

At last Bob made up his mind.

He circled toward a spot free from the besieging Plesiosaurs. It was directly opposite Hal.

"Climb out on that long limb!" Bob called to Hal. "It will bend under your weight and you can drop the ten or twelve feet onto the raft."

Hal inched out toward Bob. The limb of the tree bent slowly, forming a bridge over the hideous reptiles below, allowing Hal to drop to the raft, which, being much smaller than it was the day before, was perilously near to swamping. By careful maneuvering, however, Bob successfully brought it across the lake to the starting point.

Fortunately the downpour had ceased, almost as suddenly as it began. Shaking with chills and soaked to the skin, the two made their way back to the camp, looking forward to dry clothing and food they hoped was waiting for them.


As they forced their way through the jungle that was now half swamp, often having to pause to help one another when their feet became bogged down in mud, more than once they despaired of reaching their goal. Hungry, wet, weary almost to the point of exhaustion, they at last stumbled up to their little tent to find that the Professor and Larry apparently had not returned—and even Mobangi had disappeared.

Hal and Bob looked over the scanty supply of stores and decided to boil up some beans over the alcohol stove, it being too wet to build a wood fire. They also made coffee and this, with two biscuits each, comprised the meal. As it was the first food either had eaten in thirty-six hours, both thought it delicious.

Fortunately the spare clothing of the party was packed in a waterproof case. They removed their wet clothing and got into something dry. Then they sat discussing the turn of events and, at length, deciding to wait until the following morning, and if Larry and the Professor had not returned by that time, to set out in search of them.

With this, both turned in and fell asleep immediately despite their worries. For both were utterly exhausted.

They arose early, breakfasted sparingly, and prepared a pack for each of themselves in which they placed food and things they felt might relieve the distress of their companions, should they be found in trouble. The supplies included a small ax, ropes, a first aid kit and, of course, Bob's camera which, despite its wetting in the rain of the days before, proved uninjured when it was dried out.

The plans of the expedition of the Professor and Larry should have carried them in a northerly direction toward the upper end of the valley, and Hal knew that if they kept high on the slope, skirting the jungle below, there would be a better chance of locating the others. Hal still was puzzled over the absence of Mobangi, but he felt that the first concern was for the Professor and Larry.

The searchers had proceeded for perhaps ten or twelve miles when it became apparent that the topography of the country was changing rapidly.

"Look," exclaimed Bob, "these trees aren't the spongy kind we saw in the swamp, are they?"

The forest below seemed to be of pine trees. These had kept growing higher and higher up the slope, so that unconsciously Bob and Hal had climbed also, and now they noticed for the first time that at this height it was much cooler.

As Hal gazed down the slope he saw three gigantic beasts emerging from the trees.

"Gosh, elephants with fur coats!" exclaimed Bob.

"Mammoths!" came the excited cry from Hal.

The creatures below were hairy Mammoths, long considered extinct.

"Boy, I'd like a picture of them!" the photographer breathed rapturously.

"Well," suggested Hal, "we've worked up pretty high and I think we should get down lower, so we might as well take advantage of this opportunity."

They scrambled down the slope, gradually coming closer and closer to the enormous beasts. The leader of the herd must have stood fully twenty feet high. His big ivory tusks would have been worth a king's ransom.

Nor were the others undersized, although they seemed small in comparison, and as the three stood shaking their heads with their trunks lifted Hal pointed out that any closer approach was risking a chase over the rocks. So Bob slipped a telephoto lens into his camera and photographed the beasts from where he stood.

As they traveled on many small animals were seen from time to time among the trees and boulders. These, which scurried away as the two men approached, were identified as small primitive beasts which are extinct outside this lost valley.

By noon they had covered a great deal of distance, but as yet were without trace of their companions. It was considerably colder in the high altitude and the tropical vegetation had disappeared entirely. Hal and Bob followed the bank of a stream, finally crossing it, and several hours later came to a high ridge over which it was necessary to clamber. Bob went first and as he reached the top and peered over it he whistled in amazement.

"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed. "You ought to see the tomcat over here. I sure wouldn't want that thing yowling under my window at night."

Hal crawled up beside Bob. A short distance away, facing the two, was a large animal, growling ferociously, his body covered with broken stripes.


"A Saber-Toothed Tiger!" Hal exclaimed.

Hal easily recognized this king of beasts from its long, protruding, canine teeth which reached below the creature's jaw.

"Boy, he sure is a vicious-looking animal," Bob observed. "Don't shoot until I get a picture."

He unslung his gun and held it ready for instant action.

"That's the fellow that made life miserable for our early ancestors," Hal said, while Bob exposed two or three of his plates.

"Holler when you're ready," Hal added.

But the intrepid photographer had no opportunity to cry out, for at that instant the powerful Saber-Toothed Tiger sprang.

Hal, taken a little off guard by the length and suddenness of the tiger's spring, swung his rifle into position and fired twice. The beast gave a scream of pain and rage as it landed full upon Bob, knocking him to the ground and sending his camera spinning.

Hal leaped the few feet separating him from Bob, expecting to find the photographer torn beyond recognition by those terrible claws. But both shots had gone home and Bob was crawling out from beneath the animal.

"Where's my camera?" he asked coolly.

They found the camera, which again had escaped destruction. They were congratulating themselves upon the happy outcome of what might have proved a tragic experience, when they heard joyful voices approaching. Among the trees appeared Professor Grayson and Larry Spencer.

"Thank goodness, you're safe!" cried all hands at once.

For several minutes everyone talked at once, then finally, when the excitement had subdued, they all sat down on the rocks and enjoyed a meal over which Bob and Hal told their experiences. Then Professor Grayson told of his adventures. After leaving camp the Professor and Larry had proceeded along the slope toward the jungle to the north. They had encountered many new and distinct species of dinosaurs which they had examined and classified as carefully as possible.

As they pushed forward it grew darker, and Professor Grayson realized that a violent tropical storm was approaching. At his suggestion the two scientists turned up the slope, climbing higher and higher in an effort to escape the fury of the storm.

They could see the rain pouring down upon the swamp and jungle below, but fortunately only a comparatively light shower reached them where they stood on the mountain side. Moving farther north along a route probably much the same as that Bob and Hal followed, they eventually found themselves penetrating a forest of firs, little different from those in the higher latitudes of the United States.

They too had found Mammoths, and in fact had shot one, slicing, off steaks and the choicer pieces of meat, and marking the spot, as Professor Grayson hoped at some later date to return for the skeleton, tusks, and hide. The meat they added to their packs.

It was shortly after this that an accident occurred which nearly ended disastrously. The shells for their rifles were being carried by the Professor in a box packed in his knapsack. While crossing over a perilous ravine, his foot slipped and he fell about six feet before, luckily, he managed to grasp a projecting tree root, which prevented his further descent. However, his knapsack caught on a sharp rock, was ripped open and much of its contents, including the precious box of shells, were spilled into the gorge hundreds of feet below.

Larry rescued the Professor with a rope, and the two proceeded on their way. As it was growing dark, they decided to hunt some cover for the night, when Professor Grayson noticed a huge beast creeping stealthily along behind them. Having lost their ammunition the two were virtually unarmed. They moved onward cautiously when with a cry to Larry the Professor sprang forward, and as luck would have it, found at some short distance a shallow cave in the mountain side.

Leaping into this refuge they turned and saw their pursuer, the self-same tiger Hal and Bob had killed, keeping guard over the cave entrance. The cave evidently had been used by some animal as a den, The Professor Tells His Story 198 lost land of giants for the floor was covered with twigs, fir needles, and the branches of trees. With these a fire was built and kept alive during the night in the hope that the tiger's patience would be exhausted.

Morning still found the beast waiting for its prey. The escape of the two scientists was cut off and they could only hope for some chance happening to free them. Their fuel was all gone and it was doubtful if they would have lived through another day, had not Hal slain the beast that besieged them.


The party dined bountifully upon Mammoth steaks, tasty but somewhat tough. Indeed, this fresh meat was pronounced a welcome change from the dried and concentrated food upon which the party had been living.

With the addition of two guns and ammunition which Bob and Hal had brought, Professor Grayson decided to push on and complete, as far as he could, the exploration of this northern end of the valley. Hal mentioned Mobangi's disappearance, but the Professor refused to be alarmed over it.

"He knows the jungle like a book," the Professor said, "and I feel sure that wherever he is, Mobangi is safe."

It was late in the evening and the party decided to camp on the spot, standing guard by turns to prevent any further surprises by wild beasts.

The following morning Bob's cheery voice accompanied by the sizzling of frying fish awakened the party. The others washed in the stream where Bob had caught the fish while standing guard during the early morning. In the brisk cold air that served as a spur to their appetites, the adventurers pronounced this the finest breakfast they had ever eaten.

The journey now led downward toward the broad valley. The overpowering heat of the humid jungle rose to meet them as they walked.

Professor Grayson seemed oblivious to the heat. He made notes of all the new and strange scenes around him, pausing now and then for a look at a curious plant or creeping insect. Larry made short trips to observe the ground or rock formations, and it was on one of these side journeys that he happened upon freshly made tracks.

A shout brought the rest of the partly alongside. The Professor was delighted with the discovery.

"They're elephants," said he, "sure as you're born. Big ones, too. I wonder what type of creatures they will be. They can't be Mammoths. The prints are hardly large enough and besides the tracks aren't just the right shape."

They set off, following the trail through the jungle, which was easy, as the ponderous beasts had made a path that anyone could trace. It led for several miles through the heart of the moist, dense growth.

Despite the fact that more than once Professor Grayson longed to halt for the examination of some animal or plant, he resolutely held to his course and they made good progress. Even Bob, the irrepressible photographer, never hesitated for one of his snapshots, and in this fashion the party finally came to the shores of a small lake. It was so shallow it could almost be called a swamp, and the floor was thickly carpeted with vegetation.

The eyes of the group immediately were caught by the little herd of six creatures in the center. As the Professor had predicted, they were undoubtedly elephants, but certainly different from those anyone had ever seen before.

At a glance they appeared to be African elephants, from the stout, thick legs, great bodies, large heads, fanlike ears and even the trunk. But there the resemblance ceased, for their lower jaws swung out in the shape of large shovels. At the front of the jaw were two flat, sharp teeth.

It was easy to see what purpose such an arrangement served, for the big beasts, unaware of the presence of1 human beings, continued their feeding as if no danger confronted them. The lower jaw was moved along the bottom of the shallow lake. Using it like a scoop, each big beast dredged up masses of weeds which dangled green and dripping from its jaws.

Bob gradually worked his way around the herd, taking several pictures. Then the party crept away. Some distance from the edge of the lake, Professor Grayson called a halt for lunch and told the others about the elephants they had seen.


"Fossils of similar creatures have been found in the Gobi Desert of Asia," the Professor explained. "Their scientific name is Platybeledon, but they are popularly known as Shovel-Jawed Elephants."

"I wish we could take one back with us," Larry exclaimed. "What an addition to the zoo at home!"

The Professor laughed.

"How would you do it? Pack one of them on your back over that mountain chain?"

"Well," Larry replied, "it was a good idea."

Hal still was puzzled as to what had become of Mobangi and with all possible speed he led the others back toward the base camp.

The vegetation they passed remained the same as they reached the jungle and they occasionally ran across some animal or insect which was unfamiliar. At one point, Bob, prowling about in search of a good picture, discovered what he called a "baby dinosaur." Upon investigation, however, Professor Grayson pronounced it one of the Ceratopsia, a group of small dinosaurs who are related to their much larger and more formidable cousins, the Triceratops.

"Cute little beggar," Bob said, snapping his camera. "Make a nice pet. Can't be more than a foot and a half long."

Professor Grayson had been searching through debris on the floor of the jungle when he gave a shout. Hurrying over to where he stood, the others saw at his feet what looked like a nest filled with eggs.

"Birds' eggs," exclaimed Bob, glancing about in search of the mother.

But the Professor laughed.

"Wrong," said he. "No bird ever laid eggs like that. Go to the foot of the class. That is a dinosaur nest and those eggs when hatched will turn into dinosaurs, probably some species of Ceratopsia. I think we can steal a couple and take them with us. If necessary, and worse comes to worse, we can always have a dinosaur omelet."

Bob made a wry face.

"Someone else can have my share. I'd as soon eat a snake's egg. No, thank you. If worse comes to worst I'll just pull my belt tighter and let it go at that."

The Professor packed the eggs, wrapped carefully in moss, in his hat and the others took turns carrying it like a basket. They had to use the greatest caution to prevent breakage, and it was difficult walking through that dense vegetation without tripping.

They saw many things which all longed to investigate, but Professor Grayson kept a steady pace which was necessary if they were to reach camp by nightfall. By the time they reached the tent night had fallen, in fact.

The camp was just as Hal had left it. They searched in vain for some clue to the whereabouts of the lost servant. Then they laid plans for a hunt the next day. Hal proposed dividing into two parties and working out from camp in a gradually increasing semicircle. If one party came across an unmistakable trail it was to notify the others by three shots fired in rapid succession.

Next day Bob and Hal worked back and forth plunging farther and farther into the jungle and swamp, without much success. They were working through the southern end of the valley and as they advanced toward the south end they found much the same climatic conditions as they had noticed the previous day.

At noon they halted to eat the lunch they had packed. Then after a short rest they renewed the search. Both had listened attentively for the sound of a gun, but without success, and they judged from this that the Professor and Larry had had no luck in their hunt.

It was about the middle of the afternoon that the first sign of Mobangi was found. Bob discovered it with a shout and Hal hurried to his side. Bob stood beside the broken branches of a tree at the base of which, pressed into the soft moss, was the mark of a human footprint.

"Shall I give the signal?" asked Bob. Hal nodded assent and blazed the tree indicating the direction in which they had gone. Then Bob and Hal hurried forward after firing a gun as signal.

Occasionally they paused to shout, thinking perhaps Mobangi could hear them, but only the echo of the jungle rewarded their efforts.


Pushing forward slowly, Bob and Hal found themselves in a narrow defile, a path running between two rocky walls that towered high over their heads. There was, however, ample room for their passage.

They went forward three or four hundred yards when the rocky path opened up and they entered what apparently was a deep bowl in the rock, rimmed all about by the high mountains which formed its sides.

So preoccupied was Hal that he failed to notice carefully the path before him, which was half obscured by vines and bushes. Without any warning the earth gave way at Hal's feet and he plunged forward, half sliding, half falling down a steep bank, trying to save himself by clutching whatever came to his hand.

He gave an involuntary cry and seemed to hear an answering cry from somewhere below him. The fall lasted only a few seconds, but to Hal it seemed hours until he found himself at the bottom of a deep pit, half buried under the debris of a small avalanche of loose pebbles and stones started by the fall.

Hal picked himself up and found no bones broken and that he was none the worse for the descent, save for a few bruises and scratches.

Then, to his amazement, Hal saw before him the grinning face of Mobangi. The servant helped Hal dust off his clothes and then Hal had a chance to look around. They were in a deep pit with the sides so steep that it was impossible to climb out.

In broken English Mobangi told Hal his experience had been the same as the white man's. During the tropical storm Mobangi had gone in search of Hal and Bob and had fallen into the pit. Unable to escape he had nothing to do but wait to be rescued. He had taken a small supply of food with him and wisely he had captured a small amount of water in a biscuit tin during the storm.

The bottom of the pit was paved with bones. The place was a veritable cemetery of animals, and as Hal looked closer he could see that they were skeletons of Mammoths, hundreds and hundreds of them, gleaming white. Evidently they had been here for a long time. But what interested Hal most was the ivory tusks. There was a vast fortune lying at his feet!

The next thing was to set about effecting an escape. Bob was leaning over the edge of the rock wall high above and Hal shouted that he was safe and had found Mobangi. Bob attempted to lower a rope, but the only one he had was too short.

Soon the others arrived and by using all the rope in the party and splicing a strong vine at the end, both Mobangi and Hal were able to clamber out.

Upon hearing of the ivory fortune at the bottom of the pit Professor Grayson insisted upon descending, which he did by means of the rope. He decided that at one time the thousands of Mammoths whose bones lay bleaching in the hole had died, due either to a sudden change in the climate or to an epidemic, and that their bodies which had been scattered over the slopes, had been washed down into the natural pit.

"There is a fortune in ivory down there," Professor Grayson said with a shake of his head, "if anyone can figure out a plan to get it to market."


The reunion of the four adventurers and Mobangi was celebrated by a big feast at camp that night. After dinner Professor Grayson called attention to the diminishing supplies and announced that plans for the departure from the forgotten world should be made. The rainy season was approaching.

"Unless we get down to the coast before the rains," the Professor said, "our chances of getting there at all are slim. We will have to start soon."

"We certainly can travel light going back," Larry grinned, and as a matter of fact the food supply was nearly depleted.

"I wouldn't dare attempt our return without more food," the Professor replied, "and I think we had better spend tomorrow bagging game. The day after that we can cook it and be ready to leave in the morning of the day following."

Due to the accident which had nearly cost Professor Grayson's life, the supply of ammunition was low too. Only two guns were carried on the hunting trip, one by Professor Grayson and one by Hal, the best shot of the party. Bob and Larry carried revolvers for self-protection.

"If we could kill a Mammoth within reasonable distance of camp," the professor said, "we could smoke a lot of the meat and that would be ideal for our trip."

They left camp after instructing Mobangi to gather a supply of firewood for the smoking process.

Luck was not with them this time, for they spent the whole morning without any sign of game. Early in the afternoon they reached a forest of pine and they hoped their luck might be better there than on the open slopes.

Professor Grayson was slightly in advance when he burst through the dense underbrush upon the mouth of a large cave. Holding guns in readiness, the Professor and Hal entered the cave, moving cautiously toward the back. They penetrated farther with Bob and Larry following when they heard fierce growls. At the sound the explorers retreated to well outside the cave.

"A fine lot we are," laughed the Professor, "but that dark cave with its narrow walls was far from being an ideal place for a serious argument with a formidable beast."

"Goodness, yes, Professor," chimed Bob. "There aren't any pygmies in this valley."

As Bob spoke a huge lumbering creature emerged from the cave, and the Professor and Hal swung with their guns ready for action. Under the glare of the noonday sun they saw one of the most aweIsome beasts that has roamed the earth.

A bear, at least twenty feet tall, or so he seemed, was walking toward the party on his powerful hind legs, the long claws in his forepaws gleaming viciously. He was growling and baring his fangs, clearly angry at these puny trespassers.

Bob whistled:

"The father of all bears!"

Then Professor Grayson's rifle cracked.

The great creature tottered and fell with a crash. Hal approached cautiously and fired a bullet into its brain to make sure he was dead.

"It's a Cave Bear," said the Professor. "Lived in the Miocene Era, millions of years ago. Much larger than any bear we have today, not excepting the Kodiac Bear we have in Alaska."

The bear solved the serious problem of food supply. Its carcass, which the four proceeded to butcher, could have fed them for days.

Professor Grayson almost was in tears at the thought of leaving the skeleton and pelt of this beast, for it was a treasure worth its weight in gold to the scientific world. At length he persuaded the others to skin the animal and carry the hide back to camp. The Professor intended to carry it part of the way up the mountain, where in the cold he could leave it in safety with the idea that someday he might return and it would still be there.

The adventurers spent the balance of the afternoon preparing a food supply for their journey and getting their equipment ready. Finally they turned in for the night, weary and all ready for sleep. The following day they spent in roasting and smoking the Cave Bear meat, and that afternoon they packed up all of their equipment, planning to leave the following morning.


The following morning, before the sun had risen over the crest of the mountains and while the fog and mists still hung over the valley, the gaunt little group of adventureworn explorers started back over the arduous trail across the mountains. Leaving their carts behind, they carried their supplies and equipment in packs on their backs.

As the climb became stiffer they found the cold increasing. More than once Hal longed for the warmth of the camp on the slopes of the forgotten world. The packs grew heavy and at length they found it necessary to toss aside valuable portions of their smoked meat in order to continue the journey. There was food on the other side of the mountains at the base camp.

To make matters worse their gasoline and alcohol supplies were exhausted, and they had no fire to warm their tent and to cook their meals. Mobangi, by the use of a shallow pannikin and bear fat, did provide the group with a little light, with which they had to be content.

Hardships increased, but they struggled and toiled up the mountain until at last they found themselves in the pass which led down to the world they knew.

"At last!" cried Hal as he looked down the terrain.

"We still have to get to the bottom," sighed Larry Spencer. "Then we must cross the jungle to the coast."

"Go-go fast," chirped Mobangi. "Rains come not long."

"Don't mention it," sighed Bob wearily.

He was too exhausted even to snap a picture of the vista from the mountain top.

The base finally was reached and over the last few miles the explorers almost ran toward their base of supplies, filled with so many things they needed. They reached the base, and none too soon, for the food was utterly exhausted and for the past few days the adventurers had been traveling on half rations, which, together with the exertion of the climb, had given all of them a starving man's appetite.

Professor Grayson carefully rationed out the food found in the base, and they paused for several days to rest and prepare for the next leg of the journey through the jungle. Mobangi kept urging them on, for he knew the dangers of the rainy season.

Then they found that their automobile, with which they had expected to move part of their equipment and supplies, was hopelessly mired. Without porters, it would be impossible to clear a way out of the jungle for it. They were forced to abandon the motor car and press on afoot once more.

Then, after a struggle of three or four weeks, they reached the coast, just as the rainy season began to show signs of approach.

Here they bade farewell to the faithful Mobangi. To him they gave many presents, which, with the bag of silver coins Professor Grayson paid the African for services rendered, would make Mobangi a man of great importance in his native village.

There was not time for much leave-taking. They followed down the seacoast under darkening skies that gave promise of the tropical storms about to begin, until at last they reached a small native village off which their ship was anchored, awaiting their arrival.

When Hal saw its gleaming white sides, lapped by the green waters of the ocean, his heart leaped with gladness. Struggles, exhaustion and hardship were over. They sank down on the sand to await boats which were put off from the ship to pick up the four. Tired, dirty and weary, they were greeted by the Captain and crew, who had been greatly concerned for the safety of the four during their long absence.

The clothing each man wore was badly torn and stained by weeks of toiling through the jungles and the adventurers—scrubbed of jungle by a refreshing bath—were glad to put their feet once more beneath a table and eat like civilized creatures. The ship's cook outdid himself in preparation of that evening meal, and the board at which they sat seemed a veritable feast.

The adventurers told the story of their experiences to which the crew listened with great interest, and after the banquet was over Professor Grayson laid plans to weigh anchor and to leave for home the following morning.

Later that night Hal saw Professor Grayson standing by the rail, dreaming of his adventures. Hal approached him.

"Professor," Hal said, "there is a vast amount of treasure, both scientific and actual, hidden away there in that valley of the forgotten world. Do you plan to leave it there, or do you propose another expedition?"

The Professor pressed tobacco into his pipe, lit it and puffed thoughtfully for several minutes. Finally he spoke.

"The treasure to which you refer would be very difficult to reach. I believe it might be done by means of airplanes, but this would necessitate a journey on foot to the forgotten world and the preparation of a place suitable for planes to land. Since we left that forgotten world of giants, I've been thinking over this plan, and I've come to the conclusion that it is a practical one. At least, it probably will be worth a try."

Hal looked eagerly at the older man. Gone were the memories of hours and days of toil, weeks of hardship, suffering and danger. There remained only the memory of a world of adventure and of wonderful sights and creatures—a world untouched by the hand of man.

"Count me in," said Hal eagerly, "on any future expeditions. I wouldn't miss the adventure of going back to the Lost Valley of the Giants for—for the valley itself!"

"That's a bargain," the scientist chuckled softly, extending his hand toward Hal. "We'll start planning now for our next trip to the Lost Valley of the Giants."

Just as Hal took the Professor's hand there was a clatter on the deck behind them. The two turned to see Bob Woods rushing from his cabin, carrying his leather camera case extended toward the Professor. "Look!" he cried indignantly. "Just look! See what g'ot into my camera case—what is it? One of those Pter-pter—one of those leaping lizards?"

"My goodness, Bob, what's all the excitement?" asked Larry Spencer, who at that moment appeared from the other end of the deck.

Bob held the box toward the geologist and then turned it to Hal Hardy. There, nestling in the bottom of the case, was one of the six-inch cockroaches from the Lost Valley of the Giants.

"M—m—!" mused the Professor. "Nice little pet. Camera struck, no doubt. See, Bob, how quickly savage creatures can adapt themselves to the veneer of civilization?"

"Humph!" muttered Bob.