Загублений світ
For once I was the Hero
Thatnight(ourthirdinMapleWhiteLand)wehadanexperiencewhichleftafearfulimpressionuponourminds,andmadeusthankfulthatLordJohnhadworkedsohardinmakingourretreatimpregnable.Wewereallsleepingroundourdyingfirewhenwewerearoused—or,rather,Ishouldsay,shotoutofourslumbers—byasuccessionofthemostfrightfulcriesandscreamstowhichIhaveeverlistened.IknownosoundtowhichIcouldcomparethisamazingtumult,whichseemedtocomefromsomespotwithinafewhundredyardsofourcamp.Itwasasear-splittingasanywhistleofarailway-engine;butwhereasthewhistleisaclear,mechanical,sharp-edgedsound,thiswasfardeeperinvolumeandvibrantwiththeuttermoststrainofagonyandhorror.Weclappedourhandstoourearstoshutoutthatnerve-shakingappeal.Acoldsweatbrokeoutovermybody,andmyheartturnedsickatthemiseryofit.Allthewoesoftorturedlife,allitsstupendousindictmentofhighheaven,itsinnumerablesorrows,seemedtobecenteredandcondensedintothatonedreadful,agonizedcry.Andthen,underthishigh-pitched,ringingsoundtherewasanother,moreintermittent,alow,deep-chestedlaugh,agrowling,throatygurgleofmerrimentwhichformedagrotesqueaccompanimenttotheshriekwithwhichitwasblended.Forthreeorfourminutesonendthefearsomeduetcontinued,whileallthefoliagerustledwiththerisingofstartledbirds.Thenitshutoffassuddenlyasitbegan.Foralongtimewesatinhorrifiedsilence.
