Olson and von Schoenvorts came up a minute later with their men; then we all
cautiously approached the still form upon the ground. The creature was quite
dead, and an examination resulted in disclosing the fact that Whitely’s bullet
had pierced its heart, and mine had severed the spinal cord.
“But why didn’t it die instantly?” I exclaimed.
“Because,” said von Schoenvorts in his disagreeable way, “the beast is so
large, and its nervous organization of so low a caliber, that it took all this
time for the intelligence of death to reach and be impressed upon the minute
brain. The thing was dead when your bullets struck it; but it did not know it
for several seconds—possibly a minute. If I am not mistaken, it is an
Allosaurus of the Upper Jurassic, remains of which have been found in Central
Wyoming, in the suburbs of New York.”
An Irishman by the name of Brady grinned. I afterward learned that he had
served three years on the traffic-squad of the Chicago police force.
I had been calling Nobs in the meantime and was about to set out in search of
him, fearing, to tell the truth, to do so lest I find him mangled and dead
among the trees of the acacia grove, when he suddenly emerged from among the
boles, his ears flattened, his tail between his legs and his body screwed into
a suppliant S. He was unharmed except for minor bruises; but he was the most
chastened dog I have ever seen.
We gathered up what was left of the red deer after skinning and cleaning it,
and set out upon our return journey toward the U-boat. On the way Olson, von
Schoenvorts and I discussed the needs of our immediate future, and we were
unanimous in placing foremost the necessity of a permanent camp on shore. The
interior of a U-boat is about as impossible and uncomfortable an abiding-place
as one can well imagine, and in this warm climate, and in warm water, it was
almost unendurable. So we decided to construct a palisaded camp.
Chapter 6
As we strolled slowly back toward the boat, planning and discussing this, we
were suddenly startled by a loud and unmistakable detonation.
“A shell from the _U_-33!” exclaimed von Schoenvorts.
“What can be after signifyin’?” queried Olson.
“They are in trouble,” I answered for all, “and it’s up to us to get back to
them. Drop that carcass,” I directed the men carrying the meat, “and follow
me!” I set off at a rapid run in the direction of the harbor.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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