Потерянный континент: история Атлантиды
1. My Recall
Theyfittedexactlytothecavityinwhichtheywerestored,butbysmashingdownitsfrontIwasabletogetatthefootofthem,andthenIhackedawaythroughthebottomlayerswiththeknifetillIgotthebulkoutinonesolidpiece.Itmeasuredsometwentyinchesbyfifteen,byfifteen,butitwasnotsoheavyasitlooked,andwhenIhadtakentheremainingphotographs,IlowereditdowntoCoppingerontheendoftherope.
Therewasnothingmoretodointhecavesthen,soIwentdownmyselfnext.Thelumpofsheetswasontheground,andCoppingerwasonallfoursbesideit.Hewasprettynearlymadwithexcitement.
“Whatisit?”Iaskedhim.
“Idon’tknowyet.ButitisthemostvaluablefindevermadeintheCanaryIslands,andit’syours,youunappreciativebeggar;atleastwhatthereisleftofit.Oh,man,man,you’vesmashedupthebeginning,andyou’vesmasheduptheendofsomehistorythatisprobablypriceless.It’smyownfault.Ioughttohaveknownbetterthansetanuntrainedmantodoimportantexploringwork.”
“Ishouldsayit’syourfaultifanything’sgonewrong.YousaidtherewasnosuchthingaswritingknowntotheseancientCanarios,andItookyourwordforit.ForanythingIknewthestuffmighthavebeensomethingtoeat.”
“Itisn’tGuancheworkatall,”saidhetestily.“Yououghttohaveknownthatfromthetalc.Greatheavens,man,haveyounoeyes?Haven’tyouseenthegeneralformationoftheisland?Don’tyouknowthere’snotalchere?”
“I’mnogeologist.Isthisimportedliteraturethen?”
“Ofcourse.
