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1、【英文文学】Pellucidar 地底人PrologueSeveral years had elapsed since I had found the opportunity to do any big-game hunting; for at last I had my plans almost perfected for a return to my old stamping-grounds in northern Africa, where in other days I had had excellent sport in pursuit of the king of beasts.T
2、he date of my departure had been set; I was to leave in two weeks. No schoolboy counting the lagging hours that must pass before the beginning of “long vacation” released him to the delirious joys of the summer camp could have been filled with greater impatience or keener anticipation.And then came
3、a letter that started me for Africa twelve days ahead of my schedule.Often am I in receipt of letters from strangers who have found something in a story of mine to commend or to condemn. My interest in this department of my correspondence is ever fresh. I opened this particular letter with all the z
4、est of pleasurable anticipation with which I had opened so many others. The post-mark (Algiers) had aroused my interest and curiosity, especially at this time, since it was Algiers that was presently to witness the termination of my coming sea voyage in search of sport and adventure.Before the readi
5、ng of that letter was completed lions and lion-hunting had fled my thoughts, and I was in a state of excitement bordering upon frenzy.It well, read it yourself, and see if you, too, do not find food for frantic conjecture, for tantalizing doubts, and for a great hope.Here it is:DEAR SIR: I think tha
6、t I have run across one of the most remarkable coincidences in modern literature. But let me start at the beginning:I am, by profession, a wanderer upon the face of the earth. I have no trade nor any other occupation.My father bequeathed me a competency; some remoter ancestors lust to roam. I have c
7、ombined the two and invested them carefully and without extravagance.I became interested in your story, At the Earths Core, not so much because of the probability of the tale as of a great and abiding wonder that people should be paid real money for writing such impossible trash. You will pardon my
8、candor, but it is necessary that you understand my mental attitude toward this particular story that you may credit that which follows.Shortly thereafter I started for the Sahara in search of a rather rare species of antelope that is to be found only occasionally within a limited area at a certain s
9、eason of the year. My chase led me far from the haunts of man.It was a fruitless search, however, in so far as antelope is concerned; but one night as I lay courting sleep at the edge of a little cluster of date-palms that surround an ancient well in the midst of the arid, shifting sands, I suddenly
10、 became conscious of a strange sound coming apparently from the earth beneath my head.It was an intermittent ticking!No reptile or insect with which I am familiar reproduces any such notes. I lay for an hour listening intently.At last my curiosity got the better of me. I arose, lighted my lamp and c
11、ommenced to investigate.My bedding lay upon a rug stretched directly upon the warm sand. The noise appeared to be coming from beneath the rug. I raised it, but found nothing yet, at intervals, the sound continued.I dug into the sand with the point of my hunting-knife. A few inches below the surface
12、of the sand I encountered a solid substance that had the feel of wood beneath the sharp steel.Excavating about it, I unearthed a small wooden box. From this receptacle issued the strange sound that I had heard.How had it come here?What did it contain?In attempting to lift it from its burying place I
13、 discovered that it seemed to be held fast by means of a very small insulated cable running farther into the sand beneath it.My first impulse was to drag the thing loose by main strength; but fortunately I thought better of this and fell to examining the box. I soon saw that it was covered by a hing
14、ed lid, which was held closed by a simple screwhook and eye.It took but a moment to loosen this and raise the cover, when, to my utter astonishment, I discovered an ordinary telegraph instrument clicking away within.“What in the world,” thought I, “is this thing doing here?”That it was a French mili
15、tary instrument was my first guess; but really there didnt seem much likelihood that this was the correct explanation, when one took into account the loneliness and remoteness of the spot.As I sat gazing at my remarkable find, which was ticking and clicking away there in the silence of the desert ni
16、ght, trying to convey some message which I was unable to interpret, my eyes fell upon a bit of paper lying in the bottom of the box beside the instrument. I picked it up and examined it. Upon it were written but two letters:D. I.They meant nothing to me then. I was baffled.Once, in an interval of si
17、lence upon the part of the receiving instrument, I moved the sending-key up and down a few times. Instantly the receiving mechanism commenced to work frantically.I tried to recall something of the Morse Code, with which I had played as a little boy but time had obliterated it from my memory. I becam
18、e almost frantic as I let my imagination run riot among the possibilities for which this clicking instrument might stand.Some poor devil at the unknown other end might be in dire need of succor. The very franticness of the instruments wild clashing betokened something of the kind.And there sat I, po
19、werless to interpret, and so powerless to help!It was then that the inspiration came to me. In a flash there leaped to my mind the closing paragraphs of the story I had read in the club at Algiers:Does the answer lie somewhere upon the bosom of the broad Sahara, at the ends of two tiny wires, hidden
20、 beneath a lost cairn?The idea seemed preposterous. Experience and intelligence combined to assure me that there could be no slightest grain of truth or possibility in your wild tale it was fiction pure and simple.And yet where WERE the other ends of those wires?What was this instrument ticking away
21、 here in the great Sahara but a travesty upon the possible!Would I have believed in it had I not seen it with my own eyes?And the initials D. I. upon the slip of paper!Davids initials were these David Innes.I smiled at my imaginings. I ridiculed the assumption that there was an inner world and that
22、these wires led downward through the earths crust to the surface of Pellucidar. And yet Well, I sat there all night, listening to that tantalizing clicking, now and then moving the sending-key just to let the other end know that the instrument had been discovered. In the morning, after carefully ret
23、urning the box to its hole and covering it over with sand, I called my servants about me, snatched a hurried breakfast, mounted my horse, and started upon a forced march for Algiers.I arrived here today. In writing you this letter I feel that I am making a fool of myself.There is no David Innes.Ther
24、e is no Dian the Beautiful.There is no world within a world.Pellucidar is but a realm of your imagination nothing more.BUTThe incident of the finding of that buried telegraph instrument upon the lonely Sahara is little short of uncanny, in view of your story of the adventures of David Innes.I have c
25、alled it one of the most remarkable coincidences in modern fiction. I called it literature before, but again pardon my candor your story is not.And now why am I writing you?Heaven knows, unless it is that the persistent clicking of that unfathomable enigma out there in the vast silences of the Sahar
26、a has so wrought upon my nerves that reason refuses longer to function sanely.I cannot hear it now, yet I know that far away to the south, all alone beneath the sands, it is still pounding out its vain, frantic appeal.It is maddening.It is your fault I want you to release me from it.Cable me at once
27、, at my expense, that there was no basis of fact for your story, At the Earths Core.Very respectfully yours,COGDON NESTOR, and Club,Algiers.June 1st, .Ten minutes after reading this letter I had cabled Mr. Nestor as follows:Story true. Await me Algiers.As fast as train and boat would carry me, I spe
28、d toward my destination. For all those dragging days my mind was a whirl of mad conjecture, of frantic hope, of numbing fear.The finding of the telegraph-instrument practically assured me that David Innes had driven Perrys iron mole back through the earths crust to the buried world of Pellucidar; bu
29、t what adventures had befallen him since his return?Had he found Dian the Beautiful, his half-savage mate, safe among his friends, or had Hooja the Sly One succeeded in his nefarious schemes to abduct her?Did Abner Perry, the lovable old inventor and paleontologist, still live?Had the federated trib
30、es of Pellucidar succeeded in overthrowing the mighty Mahars, the dominant race of reptilian monsters, and their fierce, gorilla-like soldiery, the savage Sagoths?I must admit that I was in a state bordering upon nervous prostration when I entered the and Club, in Algiers, and inquired for Mr. Nesto
31、r. A moment later I was ushered into his presence, to find myself clasping hands with the sort of chap that the world holds only too few of.He was a tall, smooth-faced man of about thirty, clean-cut, straight, and strong, and weather-tanned to the hue of a desert Arab. I liked him immensely from the
32、 first, and I hope that after our three months together in the desert country three months not entirely lacking in adventure he found that a man may be a writer of “impossible trash” and yet have some redeeming qualities.The day following my arrival at Algiers we left for the south, Nestor having ma
33、de all arrangements in advance, guessing, as he naturally did, that I could be coming to Africa for but a single purpose to hasten at once to the buried telegraph-instrument and wrest its secret from it.In addition to our native servants, we took along an English telegraph-operator named Frank Downe
34、s. Nothing of interest enlivened our journey by rail and caravan till we came to the cluster of date-palms about the ancient well upon the rim of the Sahara.It was the very spot at which I first had seen David Innes. If he had ever raised a cairn above the telegraph instrument no sign of it remained
35、 now. Had it not been for the chance that caused Cogdon Nestor to throw down his sleeping rug directly over the hidden instrument, it might still be clicking there unheard and this story still unwritten.When we reached the spot and unearthed the little box the instrument was quiet, nor did repeated
36、attempts upon the part of our telegrapher succeed in winning a response from the other end of the line. After several days of futile endeavor to raise Pellucidar, we had begun to despair. I was as positive that the other end of that little cable protruded through the surface of the inner world as I
37、am that I sit here today in my study when about midnight of the fourth day I was awakened by the sound of the instrument.Leaping to my feet I grasped Downes roughly by the neck and dragged him out of his blankets. He didnt need to be told what caused my excitement, for the instant he was awake he, t
38、oo, heard the long-hoped for click, and with a whoop of delight pounced upon the instrument.Nestor was on his feet almost as soon as I. The three of us huddled about that little box as if our lives depended upon the message it had for us.Downes interrupted the clicking with his sending-key. The nois
39、e of the receiver stopped instantly.“Ask who it is, Downes,” I directed.He did so, and while we awaited the Englishmans translation of the reply, I doubt if either Nestor or I breathed.“He says hes David Innes,” said Downes. “He wants to know who we are.”“Tell him,” said I; “and that we want to know
40、 how he is and all that has befallen him since I last saw him.”For two months I talked with David Innes almost every day, and as Downes translated, either Nestor or I took notes. From these, arranged in chronological order, I have set down the following account of the further adventures of David Inn
41、es at the earths core, practically in his own words.Chapter 1. Lost on PellucidarThe Arabs, of whom I wrote you at the end of my last letter (Innes began), and whom I thought to be enemies intent only upon murdering me, proved to be exceedingly friendly they were searching for the very band of marau
42、ders that had threatened my existence. The huge rhamphorhynchus-like reptile that I had brought back with me from the inner world the ugly Mahar that Hooja the Sly One had substituted for my dear Dian at the moment of my departure filled them with wonder and with awe.Nor less so did the mighty subte
43、rranean prospector which had carried me to Pellucidar and back again, and which lay out in the desert about two miles from my camp.With their help I managed to get the unwieldy tons of its great bulk into a vertical position the nose deep in a hole we had dug in the sand and the rest of it supported
44、 by the trunks of date-palms cut for the purpose.It was a mighty engineering job with only wild Arabs and their wilder mounts to do the work of an electric crane but finally it was completed, and I was ready for departure.For some time I hesitated to take the Mahar back with me. She had been docile
45、and quiet ever since she had discovered herself virtually a prisoner aboard the “iron mole.” It had been, of course, impossible for me to communicate with her since she had no auditory organs and I no knowledge of her fourth-dimension, sixth-sense method of communication.Naturally I am kind-hearted,
46、 and so I found it beyond me to leave even this hateful and repulsive thing alone in a strange and hostile world. The result was that when I entered the iron mole I took her with me.That she knew that we were about to return to Pellucidar was evident, for immediately her manner changed from that of
47、habitual gloom that had pervaded her, to an almost human expression of contentment and delight.Our trip through the earths crust was but a repetition of my two former journeys between the inner and the outer worlds. This time, however, I imagine that we must have maintained a more nearly perpendicul
48、ar course, for we accomplished the journey in a few minutes less time than upon the occasion of my first journey through the five-hundred-mile crust. Just a trifle less than seventy-two hours after our departure into the sands of the Sahara, we broke through the surface of Pellucidar.Fortune once again favored me by the slightest of margins, for when I opened the door in the prospectors outer jacket I saw that we had missed coming up t