Загублений світ

It was Dreadful in the Forest

           Iwasnotabsolutelyaloneintheworld.Downatthebottomofthecliff,andwithincallofme,waswaitingthefaithfulZambo.Iwenttotheedgeoftheplateauandlookedover.Sureenough,hewassquattingamonghisblanketsbesidehisfireinhislittlecamp.But,tomyamazement,asecondmanwasseatedinfrontofhim.Foraninstantmyheartleapedforjoy,asIthoughtthatoneofmycomradeshadmadehiswaysafelydown.Butasecondglancedispelledthehope.Therisingsunshoneredupontheman’sskin.HewasanIndian.Ishoutedloudlyandwavedmyhandkerchief.PresentlyZambolookedup,wavedhishand,andturnedtoascendthepinnacle.InashorttimehewasstandingclosetomeandlisteningwithdeepdistresstothestorywhichItoldhim.

           "Devilgotthemforsure,MassaMalone,"saidhe."Yougotintothedevil’scountry,sah,andhetakeyoualltohimself.Youtakeadvice,MassaMalone,andcomedownquick,elsehegetyouaswell."

           "HowcanIcomedown,Zambo?"

           "Yougetcreepersfromtrees,MassaMalone.Throwthemoverhere.Imakefasttothisstump,andsoyouhavebridge."

           "Wehavethoughtofthat.Therearenocreepersherewhichcouldbearus."

           "Sendforropes,MassaMalone."

           "WhocanIsend,andwhere?"

           "SendtoIndianvillages,sah.PlentyhideropeinIndianvillage.Indiandownbelow;sendhim."

           "Whoishe?

           "OneofourIndians.Otheronesbeathimandtakeawayhispay.Hecomebacktous.Readynowtotakeletter,bringrope,anything."

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Roboto Lora
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