Загублений світ
The most Wonderful Things have Happened
Howdifficultitwastorealizethatthevioletlineuponthefarhorizonwaswelladvancedtothatgreatriveruponwhichhugesteamersran,andfolktalkedofthesmallaffairsoflife,whilewe,maroonedamongthecreaturesofabygoneage,couldbutgazetowardsitandyearnforallthatitmeant!
Oneothermemoryremainswithmeofthiswonderfulday,andwithitIwillclosethisletter.Thetwoprofessors,theirtempersaggravatednodoubtbytheirinjuries,hadfallenoutastowhetherourassailantswereofthegenuspterodactylusordimorphodon,andhighwordshadensued.ToavoidtheirwranglingImovedsomelittlewayapart,andwasseatedsmokinguponthetrunkofafallentree,whenLordJohnstrolledoverinmydirection.
"Isay,Malone,"saidhe,"doyourememberthatplacewherethosebeastswere?"
"Veryclearly."
"Asortofvolcanicpit,wasitnot?"
"Exactly,"saidI.
"Didyounoticethesoil?"
"Rocks."
"Butroundthewater—wherethereedswere?"
"Itwasabluishsoil.Itlookedlikeclay."
"Exactly.Avolcanictubefullofblueclay."
"Whatofthat?"Iasked.
"Oh,nothing,nothing,"saidhe,andstrolledbacktowherethevoicesofthecontendingmenofscienceroseinaprolongedduet,thehigh,stridentnoteofSummerleerisingandfallingtothesonorousbassofChallenger
