Amazing Stories, Vol. 2, No. 1 — page 71: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- whistle and ended in a wail. ' 70 through the trees toward him. The shot struck the creature in the belly where there was no protecting armor, éliciting a new note which rose in a shrill It was then that Tip- pet appeared to come out of his trance, for with a cry of terror he turned and fled to the left. Bradley, seeing that he had as good an opportunity as the others to escape, now turned his attention to extri- cating himself; and as the woods seemed dense on the right, he ran in that direction, hoping that the close-set boles would prevent pursuit on the part of the great reptile. The dragon paid no further at- tention to him, however, for Tippet’s sudden break for liberty had attracted its attention; and after Tippet it went, bowling over small trees, uprooting underbrush and leaving a wake behind it like that of a small tornado. Bradley, the moment he had discovered the thing was pursuing Tippet, had followed it. He was afraid to fire for fear of hitting the man, and so it was that he came upon them at the very moment that the monster lunged its great weight forward upon the doomed man. The sharp, three-toed talons of the forelimbs seized poor Tippet, and Bradley saw the unfortunate fellow lifted high above the ground as the creature again reared up on its hind legs, immediately transferring Tippet’s body to its gap- ing jaws, which closed with a sickening, crunching br as Tippet’s bones cracked beneath the great eth. The Titan Slain : atasoant half raised his rifle to fire again and then lowered it with a shake of his head. Tippet was beyond succor—why waste a bullet that Cas- pak could never replace? If he could now escape the further riotice of the monster it would be a wiser act than to throw his life away in futile revenge. He saw that the reptile was not looking in his direc- tion, and so he slipped noiselessly behind the bole of a large tree and thence quietly faded away in the direction he believed the others to have taken. At what he considered a safe distance he halted and looked back. Half hidden by the intervening trees he still could see the huge head and the massive jaws from which protruded the limp legs of the dead man. Then, as though struck by the hammer of Thor, the creature collapsed and crumpled to the ground. Bradley’s single bullet, penetrating the body through the soft skin of the belly, had slain the Titan. A few minutes later, Bradley found the others of the party. The four returned cautiously to the spot where the creature lay and after convincing themselves that it was quite dead, came close to it. It was an arduous and gruesome job extricating Tippet’s mangled remains from the powerful jaws, the men working for the most part silently. “It was the work of the banshee all right,” mut- tered Brady. “It warned poor Tippet, it did.” “Hit killed him, that’s wot hit ‘did, hand hit’ll kill some more of us,” said James, his lower lip trembling. “If it was a ghost,” interjected Sinclair, “and I don’t say as it was; but if it was, why, it could take on any form it wanted to. It might have turned Be itself ante: this ae which pint no Fhe ae AMAZING STORIES at all, just to get poor Tippet. If it had of been a lion or something else humanlike it wouldn’t look so strange; but this here thing ain’t humanlike. There ain’t no such thing an’ never was.” “Bullets don’t kill ghosts,” said Bradley, “so this couldn’t have been a ghost. Furthermore, there are no such things. I’ve been trying to place this crea- ture. Just succeeded. It’s a tyrannosaurus. Saw picture of skeleton in magazine. There’s one in New York Natural History Museum. Seems to me it said it was found in place called Hell Creek, somewhere in western North America. Supposed to have lived about six million years ago.” “Hell Creek’s in Montana,” said Sinclair. “I used to punch cows in Wyoming, an’ I’ve heard of Hell Creek. Do you's’pose that there thing’s six million years old?” His tone was skeptical. “No,” replied Bradley; “but it would indicate that the island of Caprona has stood almost without change for more than six million years.” The conversation and Bradley’s assurance that . the creature was not of supernatural origin helped to raise a trifle the spirits of the men; and then came another diversion in the form of ravenous meat-eaters attracted to the spot by their uncanny sense of smell which had apprised them of the presence of flesh, killed and ready for the eating. It was a constant battle while they dug a grave and consigned all that 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 gather a mass of the gorgeous flowers grow- ing in such great profusion around them and heap the new-made grave with bright blooms. Upon the headstone Sinclair scratched in rude characters Z the words: HERE LIES JOHN TIPPET ENGLISHMAN KILLED BY TYRANNOSAURUS 10 SEPT. A. D. 1916 a ea and Bradley repeated a short prayer before they left their comrade forever. For three days the party marched due south through forests and meadow-land and great park- like areas where countless herbivorous animals 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 being not above eight hands in height. Preying continually upon the herbivora were the meat-eaters, large and small— wolves, hyaenadons, panthers, lions, tigers, and bear as well as several large and ferocious species of reptilian life. On September twelfth the party scaled a line of sandstone cliffs which crossed their route toward the south; but they crossed them only after an encounter with the tribe that inhabited the numer- ous caves which pitted the face of the escarpment. That night they camped upon a rocky plateau which was sparsely wooded with jarrah, and here once again they were visited by the weird, nocturnal apparition that had already filled them with a name- , less terror. com ebooks.