Chapter 4 4. It is the biggest thing in the world

Before the door was quite shut, Mrs. Challenger rushed out of the dining room.The little woman was furious.She obviously saw me go out, but didn't see me come back. "You're a beast, George!" she screamed. "You wounded that fine young man." "Here he is, behind me, safe and well," Challenger said. Lord Challenger turned to me and said, "I'm so sorry I didn't see you." "I assure you, ma'am, everything is in order," I said. "He screwed your poor eye blue. Why, George, what are you! Doing disgrace seven days a week. Everybody hates you, makes fun of you, and you've got me out of patience, George, Where is your dignity?"

Challenger retorted, "And yours, my dear?" "You've caused me too much trouble. Brut—you've become a brute." "Be gentle, Jesse." "Stupid bull that roars and barks!" "Shame on you! Go to the confession bench and admit your mistakes!" [Note 1] To my surprise, he bent down and lifted her up on a tall black marble pillar in the corner of the vestibule.The pillars were seven feet high and slender.She has a hard time sitting still. "Let me down!" she yelled. "Say 'please.'" "You're a beast, George! Let me down right now!"

"Come to the study, Mr. Malone!" "Really, sir—" I said, looking at the lady. "Mr. Malone is here to let you down, Jesse. Say 'please,' and you come down." "Oh, you beast! Please! Please!" He put her down like she was a bird. "Behave yourself, dear, Mr. Malone is a reporter, and he'll have it all in tomorrow's paper, and it'll sell many extra copies among our neighbors," Challenger said jokingly. Then, he changed his tone. "Mr. Malone, please excuse the domestic banter. I called you back for something more serious than that."

He put his giant hands on her shoulders. "Little girl, don't be angry. You are absolutely right in everything you say. If I do what you advise, I will be a good man, but there will be no George Edward Challenger. There are good men, my dear, But there's only one George Edward Challenger." He kissed her suddenly. "Now, Mr. Malone, this way, please." We're back in the same room we left ten minutes ago.The professor closed the door carefully behind him, seated me in an armchair, and pushed the cigar-case in front of me. "Sit back in your chair," he said, "and pay attention to everything I want to tell you, and don't interrupt me."

"First of all, about you returning to my house after being evicted for granted," he stared at me, as if challenging, or waiting for a rebuttal, "the reason lies in your answer to the police, from which I can see that you There is a certain goodness in that, at any rate, beyond what I am accustomed to see in men of your trade. To admit that the fault is on you is evidence of a certain breadth in your realm. I beg you to follow I'm back because I intend to make friends with you further." He talked about it all like a professor giving a lecture to his class.Suddenly, he took out a tattered sketchbook from the table.

"I'm going to tell you about South America," he said, "and first of all I want you to understand that nothing I'm going to tell you now may be communicated in any public form to anyone except you with my permission. It is entirely possible that such permission will never be granted. Is that clear?" "It's hard," I said. "For a short report—" He put the sketchbook back on the desk. "That's the end of it," he said. "goodbye." "No, no!" I yelled. "I submit to any conditions. As far as I understand it, I have no choice."

"Absolutely not." "Well, then, I promise." "By honor?" "By honor." He looked at me with suspicion in his haughty eyes. "What do I know about your honor?" he said. "Indeed, sir," I exclaimed angrily, "you have treated me so easily. I have never been so insulted in my life." From what I said, he seemed more interested than angry. "Are you Celtic?" he asked. "I'm Irish, sir." "Irish of the Irish race?" "Yes, sir." "That would of course explain [Note 2]. Come to think of it, you have promised me that nothing I tell you may be communicated in any public way unless you have my permission. I am going to tell you something First, as you probably know, I took a trip to South America two years ago, a trip that will go down in the history of world science. The purpose of my trip was to verify the Some of the conclusions of Z. This verification can only be achieved by observing the facts they report under the same conditions in which they themselves observed the facts. It would still be useful if my expeditions did not lead to different results, but I am there I came across a curious accident which opened up a whole new field of exploration for me.

"You know—or probably, in this uneducated age, you don't know—that the region around certain stretches of the Amazon is not yet fully developed, and that a large number of tributaries (some of which are ) into the Zheng River. It was my duty to visit these little-known regions and to examine the fauna there. There I found information that would lead to some great and enduring chapters on zoology, which will be my Testimonials of life. When my work was done and I was walking back, I spent the night in a small Indian village where a tributary—I will not give the name and location of the tributary—flows into the Zheng River. The local The people were the Gukama Indians. Some of their patients I cured on my way up the river, and they were quite impressed with my character, so I found them eagerly awaiting my return. From them I understood that someone needed my treatment, so I followed the leader into one of their huts. When I entered, I found the man dead. To my surprise, he was not an Indian, but a Caucasian, arguably a typical Caucasian, for he had flaxen hair. His clothes were torn. I understood from the gestures of the locals, who did not know him at all, and he came alone through the jungle to Their village, energy has been completely drained.

"There was this guy's backpack next to the bed, and I checked the contents. It had his name on it: Maple White, Michigan, Detroit, Lake Shore Drive, a man I'm going to take my hat off to forever. Name. It is not an exaggeration to say that when this venture comes to fruition, it will stand alongside my own. "From the contents of the knapsack, it can be seen that the man is a painter and a poet. There are a few poems. I am not a connoisseur of such things, but the poems seem to be poorly written to me. There are also some paintings. It's a river. A paintbox, a box of pastels, some paintbrushes, and that crooked bone that's now on my inkwell, a cheap revolver, and a few rounds. That's the queer American All things.

"I was about to put these things down when I saw something protruding from the pocket of his ragged jacket. It was this sketchbook, which was as tattered as you see it now. I pass it to you, please. You go from page to page and think about the content." He picked up a Xueqian cigarette, leaned back in the chair, and looked at me with critical eyes. I opened my sketchbook expecting to see some kind of miracle, though I couldn't imagine what kind of miracle it would be.Yet the first page was disappointing, nothing but a portrait of a fat man in a bud tweed jacket, with a bit of explanation below.The next few pages are filled with sketches of Indians.Then came a few pages of studies of women and babies, then animals and some instructions, and finally a double-page study of disgusting lizards.I didn't see any tricks, so I said to the professor:

"Surely these are crocodiles, too?" "Alligators, alligators! Real alligators are rare in South America. Check out the next page!" he said with a smile. I still can't figure it out.The sketch, which takes up a whole page, is a rough sketch of a landscape in color, a kind of sketch that an artist will use to paint in the future.The foreground of light green plants stretches straight up the edge of the crimson cliff.The cliffs extend into an unbroken wall across the background, forming a plateau.An isolated pyramid-like rock topped by a large tree.The rock seemed to be separated from the plateau by a fault.Behind all this, is the blue tropical sky. "Red cliff tops bordered by a thin green line of vegetation. "How?" he asked. "A curious formation, no doubt," I said, "but I am not a geologist enough to conclude that it is a curious formation." "It's amazing!" he repeated to me. "It is unique. No one in the world has ever dreamed of such a possibility. Now on to the next page." I turned the page and screamed.A whole page is devoted to one of the most unusual animals I have ever seen.The head is like that of a bird, the body is like that of a lizard, with needles growing upwards from the tail and arched back.In front of the animal, there was a ridiculously small human figure, who stood and stared at it. "Well, what do you think of that?" cried the Professor, with a triumphant air. "It's like a monster—" "But what made him draw such an animal?" "Oh, I'll have to think about it." "Gee, that's the best explanation you can give, isn't it?" "Well, sir, what's your explanation?" "One obvious explanation is that there is such an animal that is a true sketch of actual life." I did my best not to laugh because I didn't want another aisle fight. "Without a doubt," I said, "without a doubt," like one talking to a fool. "I admit, however," I added, "that the little figure surprised me. It wasn't an Indian, or an American dwarf, but rather a European in a sun hat." The professor looked at me angrily. "Look here!" he cried, leaning forward and pointing a hairy finger at the picture. "Look at the plants behind this animal, I think you thought it was a dandelion. Well, it's an ivory palm tree, fifty or sixty feet high. You don't understand why there is a man in the picture, do you? He put himself It was drawn in to show the animal's height. He was over five feet tall. The tree was ten times taller." "My God! Charing Square [Note 3] can't hold the beast!" I cried. "It's certainly a big guy," the professor said. "But," I exclaimed, "you certainly can't rely on a sketch by an unknown American artist to prove something." I turned a few more pages, and there was nothing more in the sketchbook. The professor took a book from the shelf. "This is an excellent collection of essays written by my gifted friend Ray Lancaster," he said. "Here's an illustration that will interest you. Ah, there, here it is! An estimated life image of the Jurassic dinosaur Stegosaurus, with the height of two giants on its hind legs alone. Well, what do you do with this one?" What do you think?" He handed me the open book.I saw the picture and was startled.This animal, which has been restored to its original state and no longer exists in the world, is indeed too similar to the sketch by the unknown artist. "Amazing indeed," I said. "And yet you still deny the existence of such an animal." "This American may have seen pictures of this kind." "Okay," said the professor, "we'll put it aside. I invite you to look at this bone." He handed over a bone he found in the dead man's knapsack, about six inches long, with a thumb that thick. "Which of the animals we know does this bone belong to?" asked the professor. I looked carefully, though I don't know much about the bones. "It might be a thick man's collarbone," I said. My friend shook his head. "The human collarbone is curved. This is straight." "Then I must admit I don't know what it is." "You don't have to be ashamed of your ignorance, because I guess no one can name it." He took a very small bone from a small box. "I said this human bone is similar to the one you're holding, and that will give you an idea of ​​how big the animal is. Look carefully, and you'll see that it's not a fossil specimen, it's new bone. How do you say that?" "It must have been on the elephant—" He looked at me like he was in pain. "No, don't say there were elephants in South America, that's when—" "Well," I interrupted, "any other large South American animal, like a tapir." "Young man, you may believe that I know my trade, and that this is not the bone of a tapir, nor of any other animal known to zoology. It belongs to a very large, very powerful, and by all accounts Judging by the resemblance, a very ferocious animal exists on Earth but is still unknown to science. Don't you still believe it?" "At least I'm deeply interested." "Then you're not hopeless. Now let's leave the dead American behind and continue my narrative! You can imagine how hard it is for me to walk away from the Amazon without researching the matter. There are signs Tell me where the dead traveler came from. Indian legends furnish me with information about a strange place. You have undoubtedly heard of Guru Puri?" "never heard of that." "Gurupuri is the spirit of the forest, something terrible, something to be avoided. No one can say its shape or nature, but in the region of the Amazon it is a terrible word. About The tribes agree in the direction in which Guru Puri lives. The American came from the same direction. There is something terrible on that road. It is my duty to discover what it is." As I listened, interest in the matter increased. "I had to find two guides among the locals. After going through many difficulties and obstacles, I need not say that, we walked for a while in that direction (I will not tell this direction), and finally reached the place that has never been recorded. A part of the country where only Mepuo White has ever been. Have a look at this?" He handed me a photo. "As you can see, the picture is not satisfactory," he said. "While going down the river, the boat capsized and the box containing the undeveloped negatives was broken. Almost all the negatives were destroyed. This is one of the few that didn't get damaged. He said he asked for your understanding about the defects in the photographs. I accept it with all my heart. Some people say it’s a fake, and I don’t have the energy to argue with them.” Photos do have flaws.A ruthless critic can easily be said to be fake.The gray landscape, on closer inspection, I saw that it depicted a long, very high line of cliffs, with a vegetated, sloping plain in the foreground. "I believe it's the same place as a picture-in-picture." "It's the same place," replied the professor. "I found the old Mepuo White tent. Now look at this." Here's a close up shot of the same cliff, although it's a terrible photo.I could unmistakably make out the isolated pyramid of rock with a tree on it, separated from the plateau by a chasm. "I have no doubts," I said. "How about we move on?" he said. "Now look over the rock, please. See anything there?" "A giant tree." "But what about the trees?" "A big bird," I said. He handed me a magnifying glass. "By the way," I said, looking through my magnifying glass, "there's a big bird in the tree. It looks like it has a big beak. I say it's a gannet." "Not a gannet, really, nor a bird," said the professor. "Perhaps you'll be interested to know that I managed to lay down that sample. It's the only absolute proof of what I've seen, and I can bring it back with me." "So you have a sample?" "I had, unfortunately lost, among many other things, in that boat capsize that ruined my picture. I caught it just as it was about to disappear in the rushing river, and it ended up in my hand. What's left is a part of the wing." From the drawer he took out a part of a wing that looked like a large banner.It is at least two feet long, with curvilinear bones attached to membranes. "What a big bat!" I said. "It's nothing like that," said the professor. "A bird's wing is actually a forelimb, and a bat's wing consists of three elongated fingers with a membrane in between. You don't know the basics of comparative anatomy, is that true? Well, in this case, the bone certainly isn't Forelimb. You can see it's a separate membrane attached to a single bone, so it can't be bat. If it's not a bird and it's not a bat, what is it?" "I really don't know anymore," I said. He opened the book again. "Here," he said, pointing to a drawing of a very unusual flying monster, "is a wonderful reproduction of a pterosaur, a flying reptile of the Jurassic period. On the next page is a diagram of the mechanics of its wings. Please compare it with the sample you have in hand." I am convinced.There can be no doubts.Sketches, photos, narratives, and living objects, the evidence is complete.I say it so--I say it so softly, because I think the professor is pretty much a mistreated person.He sat back in his chair, smiling. "It's the biggest, biggest thing I've ever heard of," I said, though my enthusiasm was more of a journalist than a scientist. "You found a lost world, and I'm sorry if I seemed to doubt you. It's all so inauthentic. But when I saw the evidence, I understood, and that's enough for anyone That's enough." The professor smiled with satisfaction. "So, sir, what did you do next?" "It's the rainy season, Mr. Malone, and I've run out of stock. I've explored parts of the great cliff, but I haven't been able to find my way up. The pyramid of rock on which I saw and shot a pterosaur or I can go up. I managed to climb halfway up the rock. From that height, I got a better understanding of the plateau. It seems to be very large. Below is a swampy area full of snakes, insects, and heat. Disease. It is the natural barrier of this strange country." "Did you see any other signs of life?" "No, sir, no, but during the week we stayed at the foot of the cliff we heard some very strange noises from above." "But what about the animal that the American drew? What do you think of it?" "We can only assume he's been up there and seen it. So we know there's a way to get there. We also know it must be very difficult, or the animals would have come down. Really, that's not clear. Is it clear?" "But how did the animals get there?" "I don't think it's a very difficult problem," said the professor. "There can only be one explanation. As you may know, South America is a granite continent. In this one and only spot, at some very distant time, there was A great sudden volcanic uplift of the earth's crust. The cliffs are therefore basaltic and igneous. A region perhaps as large as Sussex was raised with life on it, and was vertically The cliffs were disconnected from the rest of the continent. What happened? Animals belonging to the Jurassic period, like pterosaurs and stegosauruses, were preserved against nature due to those rare accidental conditions." "Your evidence certainly reassures others. You will now bring it before the appropriate authorities." "I thought that too," the professor said bitterly. "I can only tell you that it is not the case. They do not believe me. If my word is doubted, sir, and then try to prove it, it is not in my nature. The subject hates me, and I don't want to talk about it." When people, like you, come to bother me on behalf of the stupid curiosity of the public, I cannot be polite to them. I admit that I have a natural fiery temper, and may be violent, and I am afraid you have noticed it." I touched my eyes and said nothing. "Tonight, however, I want to set an example of extreme politeness. At eight-thirty in the halls of the Zoological Society, Mr. Polseu Vodzen, a natural scientist of some renown, is giving a lecture. I have been specially invited. Go and sit on the podium and move to thank the speaker. In doing so, I'm going to say something that might interest the audience. I'll be very polite, and see if I can get a better result that way." "Can I come?" I asked eagerly. "Of course," he replied enthusiastically.His enthusiasm was almost as oppressive as his rage. "Must come. I'll be glad to know I've got one of my allies in the hall. I think there'll be a good audience, for Wojon is well known, though a true drug hustler. Why, Mr. Malone, I Spent more time on you than I had intended. I am very pleased to see you at this evening's lecture. I want you to understand that any material I speak to you must not be published." "But Mr. McArdle—my news editor—you know, wanted to know what I was up to." "Tell him what you want. There's plenty to say. You can say, if he sends another man to me, I'll find him and give him a horsewhip. I have your honour, that any such Nothing like that will be printed. Now. See you tonight in the Zoological Society hall at 8:30, then." [Note 1] The penitent stool, the high stool used to be used by adulterous men and women to repent in Scottish churches, is now used as a metaphor. [Note 2] The Irish of the Irish ethnicity, the original English text can also be understood as "Irish who lost his temper". [Note 3] Charing Square is a square in the bustling area of ​​London.