The Lost ContinentHyne, Charles John Cutcliffe Wright
Science
The Lost Continent
Hyne, Charles John Cutcliffe Wright
Atlantis (Legendary place) -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Lost continents -- Fiction; Science fiction
I saw the shape of a man, untidily swathed in reddened bandages.
“This is all that is left of the poor priest that was my immediate
superior in this cure. It was his turn yesterday to celebrate the weekly
sacrifice to our Lord the Sun with the circle of His great stones.
Faugh! Deucalion, you should have seen how he was mangled when they
brought him back to me here.”
“Did the people rise on him? Has it come to that?”
“The people stayed passive,” said Ro bitterly, “what few of them had
interest to attend; but our Lord the Sun saw fit to try His minister
somewhat harshly. The wood was laid; the sacrifice was disposed upon it
according to the prescribed rites; the procession had been formed round
the altar, and the drums and the trumpets were speaking forth, to let
all men know that presently the smoke of their prayer would be wafted
up towards Those that sit in the great places in the heavens. But then,
above the noise of the ceremonial, there came the rushing sound of
wings, and from out of the sky there flew one of those great featherless
man-eating birds, of a bigness such as seldom before has been seen.”
“An arrow shot in the eye, or a long-shafted spear receives them best.”
“Oh, all men know what they were taught as children, Deucalion; but
these priests were unarmed, according to the rubric, which ordains that
they shall intrust themselves completely to the guardianship of the
High Gods during the hours of sacrifice. The great bird swooped down,
settling on the wood pyre, and attacked the sacrifice with beak and
talon. My poor superior here, still strong in his faith, called loudly
on our Lord the Sun to lend power to his arm, and sprang up on the altar
with naught but his teeth and his bare arms for weapons. It may be
that he expected a miracle--he has not spoke since, poor soul, in
explanation--but all he met were blows from leathery wings, and rakings
from talons which went near to disembowelling him. The bird brushed him
away as easily as we could sweep aside a fly, and there he lay bleeding
on the pavement beside the altar, whilst the sacrifice was torn and
eaten in the presence of all the people. And then, when the bird was
glutted, it flew away again to the mountains.”
“And the people gave no help?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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