Загублений світ
It was Dreadful in the Forest
AlongthisIcouldperhapsholdmyown,forIwasafastrunner,andinexcellentcondition.Flingingawaymyuselessgun,Isetmyselftodosuchahalf-mileasIhaveneverdonebeforeorsince.Mylimbsached,mychestheaved,Ifeltthatmythroatwouldburstforwantofair,andyetwiththathorrorbehindmeIranandIranandran.AtlastIpaused,hardlyabletomove.ForamomentIthoughtthatIhadthrownhimoff.Thepathlaystillbehindme.Andthensuddenly,withacrashingandarending,athuddingofgiantfeetandapantingofmonsterlungsthebeastwasuponmeoncemore.Hewasatmyveryheels.Iwaslost.
MadmanthatIwastolingersolongbeforeIfled!Uptothenhehadhuntedbyscent,andhismovementwasslow.ButhehadactuallyseenmeasIstartedtorun.Fromthenonwardshehadhuntedbysight,forthepathshowedhimwhereIhadgone.Now,ashecameroundthecurve,hewasspringingingreatbounds.Themoonlightshoneuponhishugeprojectingeyes,therowofenormousteethinhisopenmouth,andthegleamingfringeofclawsuponhisshort,powerfulforearms.WithascreamofterrorIturnedandrushedwildlydownthepath.Behindmethethick,gaspingbreathingofthecreaturesoundedlouderandlouder.Hisheavyfootfallwasbesideme.EveryinstantIexpectedtofeelhisgripuponmyback.Andthensuddenlytherecameacrash—Iwasfallingthroughspace,andeverythingbeyondwasdarknessandrest.
