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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (March 9, 1925)
THE LOST WORLD] By SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE * i _/ (Conttoned From Mturd»j.> Suddenly a thought came to me and brought some little comfort to my heart. I was not absolutely alone In the world. Down at the bottom of the cliff and within call of me, was waiting the faithful Zambo. I went to tho edge of the plateau and looked over. Sure enough, he was squatting among his blankets beside his tire in hit, little camp. But, to my amaze ment, a second man w-as seated in front of him. For an Instant my heart leaped for Joy, as I thought that one of my comrades had made his way safely down. But a second glance dispelled the hope. The rising sun shone red upon the man's skin. He was an Indian. I shouted loudly and waved my handkerchief. Pres ently Zambo looked up, waved bis band, and turned to ascend the pin nacle. In a short time he was stand ing close to me and listening with deep distress to the story which I told him. "Devil got them for sure. Massa Malone," said he. “You got Into the devil'* country, sah, and he take you al! to lmself. You take advice, Massa Malone, and come-down quick, else he get you as well." "How can I come down, Zambo?" “You get creepers from trees, Mas sa Malone. Throw them over here. I make fast to this stump, and so you have bridge." “We have thought of that. There are no creepers here which could bear us." "Send for ropes, Massa Malone." "Who can I send, and where?" "Send to Indian village, sah. rlenty Hderope In Indian village. Indian down below-; send him." "Who Is he?" "One of our Indians. Other ones heat htm and take away his pay. He conic back to us. Ready now- to take letter, bring rope—anything." To take a letter! Why not? Per haps he mf-ht bring help; but In any case he would insure that our lives were not spent for nothing, and that news of all that we had won for science should reach our friends at home. I had two completed letters already waiting. I would spend the day In writing a third, which would bring my experiences absolutely up t-j date. The Indian could bear this back to the w-orld. I ordered Zambo, therefore, to come again In the evc r Ing and I spent my miserable and lonely dav In recording my own al ventures of the night before. I also New York —Day by Day— V__—-—-J By O. O. M’INTYRE. Paris, March R.—I have seen Paris , for the first time during a winter season. It is as entrancing, rippling and gay as it was last summer. The kiosks bloom wth flowers and neatly folded Journals sold by brisk little women. The chauffeurs are as ca pricious In defying all traffic laws as ever. The ornamental gendarmes pre serve their same air of detachment. They stand about the streets with their neatly folded capes thrown over their shoulders as though disln tercsted spectators. They are lithe of figure and gentle of manner. Paris has long since shed the chrysalis of bereavement 'and each season finds It brightening up. The large floating population of the sum mer months is not here. The crowds are typically Parisian. It was noon when I left the Rltz for a stroll. Shops were closing for the two hour siesta. The sicfewalks of the Rue dp la Paix were gay with mtdinettes like so many chattering magpies. The only touch of the war is seen hero and there with ghastly disfig urements. I think the most Impressive thing about Paris and one of the chief reasons for my love for It is the childlike simplicity. Perhaps this lit tle trivial Incident will explain what I mean. T dropped into one of those circular little bars for a cup of hot chocolate. A cocotle came In. I’nder her arm she carried a clock encased In glass. She was taking it to pawn. The barman looked It over and turned a key. A spring snapped. Wild ges tures and gesticulations. Business in the place stopped. Everybody gathered around the clock. They peeped In from the streets. It was the most curiously interested crowd I ever saw. After about 30 minutes (he clock began to tick again. Then they laughed, slap ped shoulders and moved away. Strangely smough I w-as Just as in terested as the rest. Paris has a way of doing that. Then again I dropped Into a hook shop. Madam was at her little cashier's desk with her Siamese cat. All small shopkeepers have a pet of some sort—a dog. bird or cat. I showed Interest In the pft and she Immediately lost Interest In a sale. That could wait for another day. The sidewalk cafes do a brisk winter business. Men and women sit for hours In their heavy coats sip ping steaming hot drinks. It gives them the opportunity to Indulge th»lr curiosity to study passers-by. V.’e of America would rather resent the close scrutiny of the Parisians who mean no discourtesy. They will walk up to you and look you over from head to foot as Impersonally as they would study a pslntlng. Then they move on. This naivete of the French express es Itself In many ways. Customs cling. If you go to buy stamps In a hojel or postofflce you must wait for ths ceremony of taking the . stamps out of a leather back folder ^ and the stamps are only handed to - .you after the folder Is closed and put $lway. Stamps were first sold In this way and will be so'long as France survives. Tb* t>ne thing the American miss es Here In th® ,and W'here cooking Is an nrt is good coffee. They serve a chicory concoction that In Innoc uous and tasteless. Eouls Sherry has built up a big business serving the kind of coffee we get back home. T tendered a few sous to the heed porter for a trifling service. Rasll Woon, an American correspondent, who was with me smiled. Then he told me that this concierge w-as one of the chief stockholders In the hotel end Is enormously rich yet dally he dons his gold braided coat end pre sides over the head porter's desk Th» concierge Is the chief point of contact with the patrons. One rarely sees the clerks. drew up a note, to be given to any white merchant or captain ot a steam boat whom the Indian could find, im ploring them to see that ropes were sent to us, since our lives must de pend upon it. These documents I threw to Zambo in the evening, and also my purse, which contained three English sovereigns. These were to be given to the Indian, and he was promised twice as much if he returncu with the ropes. Just as the sun was setting upon that melancholy night I saw the lont ly figure of the Indian upon the vnst plain beneath me. and I watched him. .‘Ur one faint hope of salvation, until he disappeared in the rising mists of even ng which lay, rose-tinted from the setting sun, between the far-off river and me. It was quite dark when I at last turned back to our stricken camp, anti my last vision as I went sas the red gleam of Zambo's fire, the one point of light in the wide world be low, as was his faithful presence In mv own shadowed soul. ^And yet I‘ felt happier than I had done since this crushing blow had fallen upon me, for It was good to think that the world should know what we had done, so that at the worst our names should not perish with our bodies, but should go down to posterity associated with the result of our labors. It was an awesome thing to sleep in that ill-fatsd camp; and yet it was even more unnerving to do so m the .'ungle. One or the other it must be. Prudence, on the one hand, warned me that I should remain on guard, but exhausted nature, on the other declared that I should do nothing of the kind. I climbed up on to a limb of the great gingko tree, but there was no secure perch on its rounded surface, and I should certainly have fallen off and broken my neck the moment I began to doze. I got down, therefore, and pondered over what I should do. Finally, I closed the door of the zareba, lit three separate fires in a triangle, and having eaten R hearty supper dropped off into a pro found sleep, from which I had a strange and most welcome awaken ing. in the early morning, just as day was breaking, a hand was laid upon my arm, and starting up, with all my nerves in a tingle and my hand feeling for a rifie. I gave a cry of Joy as In the cold gray light I saw Lord John Roxton kneeling beside me. It was he—and yet it was not he. I had left him calm In his bearing, correct in his person, prim In his dress. Now he was pale and wild eyed, gasping as he breathed like one who has run far and fast. His gaunt face was scratched and bloody, his clothes were hanging In rags, and his hat was gone. I stared in amaze ment, but he gave me no chance for questions. He was grabbing at our stores all the time hp spoke "Quick, young fellah! Quick!" he cried. “Every moment counts. Get the rifles, both of them. 1 have the other two. Now, all the cartridges you can gather. Fill your porkets. Now, some food. Half a dozen tins will do. That’s all right! Don't wait to talk or think. Oet a move on, or we are done!” Still half-awake, and unable to Imagine what It all might mean, T found myself hurrying madly after him through the wood, a rifle under aaeh arm and a pile of various stores Ift my hands. He dodged in and out through the thickest of the scrub until he came to a dense clump of brushwood. Into this he rushed, re gardless of thorns, and threw him self Into the heart of It, pulling me down by his side "There!" he panted. I think we are safe here. They'll made for the camp as sure as fate. It will be their first Idea. But this should puz zle 'em." "What Is It all?" I asked, when I had got my breath. "Where are the professors? And who Is it that is after us?" "The apemen.” he cried. "My God, what brutes! Don't raise your voice, for they have long ears—sharp eyes, too, but no power of scent, so far as I could judge, so I don't think they can sniff us out. Where have you been, young fellah? You were well out of It." lii a few sentences I whispered what I hail done. "Pretty l>ad," said he, when he hail heard of the dinosaur and the pit. "It isn't quite the place for a rest cure. What? But I had no Idea what Its possibilities were until those devils got hold of us. The man-eatln' Papuans had me once, hut they are Chesterfields compared to this crowd.'" "How did It happen?" I asked "It was In the early morning'. Our learned friends wars just atlrrin'. Hadn't even begun to argue yet. Bud denly It rained, apes. They came down as thick as apples out of a tree. They had been assemblin’ In the dark, I suppose, until that great tree over our heads was he.iqe with them. I shot one of them through the belly, but before we knew where- we were they hart us spread-eagled on our backs. I call them apes, but they carried sticks and stones in their hands and jabbered back to each oth er, and ended up by tyin’ our hands with creepers, so they are ahead of any beast that I have seen in my Wanderin's. Apemen—that s what they are—Missin' Links, and I wish they had stayed missin'. They car ried off their wounded comrade—he was Weedin' like a pig—and then they sat around us, and if ever I saw frozen murder it was in their faces. They were big fellows, as big as a man and a deal stronger. Curi ous glassy gray eyes they have, un der red tufts, and they just sat and gloated and gloated. Challenger is no chicken, but even he was cowed H» managed to struggle to his feet, and yelled out fit them to have done with it and get it oxer. I think he had gone a bit off his head at the sudden ness of it. for he raged and cursed at them like a lunatic. If they had been a row of his favorite Pressmen he could not haxe slanged them worse.” "Well, xxhat did they do?” 1 was enthralled hy the strange story which my companion was whispering Into my ear. while all the tme his keen eyes were shooting In every direction and his hand grasping hls cocked rifle. 'I thought it was the end of ns. out instead of that it starterf them on a new line. They all jabbered and chattered together. Then one of them stood out beside Challenger, foull smile, young fellah, but pon my word they might have been kins men. I couldn't have believed It if l hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. This old apenia/i—he was their rhief —was a sort of red Challenger, with every one of otir friend's beauty | points, only just a trifle more so. H* | fiad the short body, the big shmil ders. the round chest, no neck, a 55rr.1t ruddy frill of a heard, the tuft* ed eyebrow*, the ‘What do you want, damn you! loop about the eves, and the whole catalogue. When the ape man stood by Challenger and put hi* paw on his shoulder, the thing was romplete. Summer lee wa§ a bit h.V* ^ terlcal. and he laughed till he cried. (To He Continued Tomorrow.)_ THE NEBBS LEAVE IT TO MAX. Directed for The Omaha Bee by Sol He.. /hello,/youDelwerice^ni L/Ou thats vjhw^ cheww you upTV __ O'OM'T HEAR FROM ) Hrft:r _£AT NOUR >14 W 10 A VCNlOVLlW THAT WAS »T, I'D A V g you or see you \ dough-huts an' talk \S bee hi Sorb ! i wao to giue hw coosikj T ybURMUSHTAVJKOWERl A DOLLAR io ST AT W^TH TW VOOS WWW / TO FERGUSOH S * VOU n 1 WEHT TOTH' QOWUHG CLUB — AWDTW / .COULOMT GET AWAV AttJr NO O'FTEREnT U R vcios ALL ASKW' FOR TOU _ MlC*E.T / THAH ALLTH' REST OF M CRT'A*' FOR M*9 AOMT EtHMA AMO X ) cH*. viliSaTMOWE MVgauE you _CRCOFT FOR BWS'C*V /VOO'RE fc TTNE. ONE VOU CkRE ! Vm\ /RE'S R'SHT - IT'S ML MV PCkUcTTS *th' onevhcct should be mnO '. vm \ / j get mm> too quick &.nd tw \ SELUNG VCE too Ck LIVIN' (LNO 1 CPkKT) OEMOUSV t GET PROM MV MINT BC STUCK UP- WHEN VWOT G\RL \ _ SHE WAS SO JEALOUS OP MY OT EE RED ME OOUGU-NOTS I HAODA \ ; uslCLC JOHN SHE'D CUT ALL™* EAT1 EM THEN LIE ^SOUT EM — STORES OP WOMEN OUT A TH‘ 7 IHW'S HOWL MOLD MV CUSTOMERS ./ NEvv,SPPkptas 3EP0CE HE ,4 COULO ^ GOT \T AS PAR OVER HER AS A f Ifg^IvoK. eyreggtn^y j IP Sfc CJftkCek«L?oK4 i (Copyright. t??3, hy The Bell Syndic**. RDINiniNin I TP PAHTUPP R«*i*t«««i see jiggs and maggie in full Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus DI\H’iVill N VJ rV/I r rt 1 IaHiIX u. S. Patent Offle* PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY BEE (Copyright 19251 ........... - _*___ . — , , r --..----I ■ JERRY ON THE JOB it makes a difference. Drawn for Tbe Bee *>y Hoban ♦ Copyright l«i9) j^JuSr \i %*en SpsiviS was Camc U9 JlJIW A WUM\< OP WEAVES. ~ft#TS as Colo A? 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