“And then I came upon the spoor of something which took my breath away. I fancied it must be Ceratosaurus, and I knew that he relied upon animal food and feared nothing. His huge footprints left a deep impression in the damp soil, and between them extended a heavy furrow, as though some great plough had passed that way. This seemed to indicate the impression of a vast tail. The creature was doubtless striding about upon its hind legs, according to custom; and from the mangled remains of various lesser monsters which strewed its path, I doubted not that it was lunching as it roamed on its way.
“The clouds gathered more thickly, rain fell in heavy, solitary drops; there was a volcanic smell in the air, and I heard the giant Deinosaur cracking bones round the next corner. My pulse quickened, I looked to my Remington, and then hastened forward with what courage I could command.
“Round that clump of coniferæ was Ceratosaurus. He had just finished a small crocodile, and was looking round for another when he saw me. Never did I behold such a mighty, towering mass of life. His jaws were open, his head was vast, his teeth truly terrific. His yellow goggle eyes were as large as the wheels of a railway-train, his neck was a tower, his body greater than many elephants. Inexperienced as I was, I felt that a meat-eating Deinosaur, of even larger dimensions than any whose fossil bones have up to the present time been discovered, stood before me. As a matter of fact it did not stand for an instant. It approached with gigantic strides and shot its head forward like a snake. It looked about fifty feet high, but scientific and exact measurements were out of the question. Such indeed was the ungovernable haste of the brute that time did not allow of so much as a shorthand note on my cuff. I had just wondered two things; whether he would show any respect for my cloth, and whether, if he did not, my Remington would stop him, when he was upon me. He swayed his head sideways and came on upon his hind legs. His lips he licked with a black tongue—doubtless in anticipation. I fired my rifle at the right moment, but it made no impression, and in a second he was above me as I turned to fly. My cloth certainly had no respect from him, but he put it to a severe test, for, bending over from his massive haunches, he gripped me like a baby between his front talons, and bore me aloft fully twenty-five feet into the air. How my coat-tails and nether garb stood it I shall never know. Even at that supreme moment I marvelled why no stitch had given. The Deinosaur made a loud, guttural hissing, hugged me to his chest, bent his neck down, rolled his prodigious eyes, and drew back the lips from off his teeth. But I could make no movement, for my senses and muscles seemed alike paralysed. His head played over me, his fetid breath was on my cheek, his yellow eyes glared into my face, his hard nose pressed and poked my ribs. And then the power of action returned in some measure. I fought and kicked and shrieked, while as I struggled, the beast’s awful hug against my chest relaxed a little and his outline grew dim. But the yellow eye glared on brighter every moment. Then by slow stages I awoke, and the outlines of modern things appeared, and I became conscious of a general disorder, and the ceiling of my bedroom, and other familiar sights. But the yellow eye still glared on. I gasped and panted out of that nightmare grip at last, wet with perspiration, shaking with the terror of the Deinosaur’s presence. And dawn was about me and a tumble of bed-clothes, and a conviction that I was nearly standing upon my head, where my feet usually reposed in times of peaceful slumber. But the yellow eye glared on still, and not until I realised that the blazing thing was a big brass knob at my bed-foot did I grasp the facts and find myself back at the beginning of the twentieth century.
“At breakfast on that day Peter begged and implored for a sardine just as usual. But when I said, ‘What about that Pterodactyl, old chap?’ and ‘What was it like inside the Plesiosaurus, old fellow?’ he only blinked his eyes and padded with his front paws and purred as usual. Peter is a big tom-cat really, but what struck me about him that morning, after my jaunt amid Mesozoic fauna, was his ridiculously small size.”
THE BILLS
I
HEAR the postman with the bills—
Little bills!
What a secret misery the sight of them instils!
How they flutter, flutter, flutter