The Land That Time Forgot

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 45

sprang up the ladder and commenced chopping away at that hideous
face. The thing didn't have sufficient brainpan to entertain more than
a single idea at once. Though chopped and hacked, and with a bullethole
between its eyes, it still persisted madly in its attempt to get inside
the tower and devour Olson, though its body was many times the diameter
of the hatch; nor did it cease its efforts until after Olson had
succeeded in decapitating it. Then the two men went on deck through
the main hatch, and while one kept watch, the other cut a hind quarter
off Plesiosaurus Olsoni, as Bradley dubbed the thing. Meantime Olson
cut off the long neck, saying that it would make fine soup. By the
time we had cleared away the blood and refuse in the tower, the cook
had juicy steaks and a steaming broth upon the electric stove, and the
aroma arising from P. Olsoni filled us all with a hitherto unfelt
admiration for him and all his kind.



Chapter 5

The steaks we had that night, and they were fine; and the following
morning we tasted the broth. It seemed odd to be eating a creature
that should, by all the laws of paleontology, have been extinct for
several million years. It gave one a feeling of newness that was
almost embarrassing, although it didn't seem to embarrass our
appetites. Olson ate until I thought he would burst.

The girl ate with us that night at the little officers' mess just back
of the torpedo compartment. The narrow table was unfolded; the four
stools were set out; and for the first time in days we sat down to eat,
and for the first time in weeks we had something to eat other than the
monotony of the short rations of an impoverished U-boat. Nobs sat
between the girl and me and was fed with morsels of the Plesiosaurus
steak, at the risk of forever contaminating his manners. He looked at
me sheepishly all the time, for he knew that no well-bred dog should
eat at table; but the poor fellow was so wasted from improper food that
I couldn't enjoy my own meal had he been denied an immediate share in
it; and anyway Lys wanted to feed him. So there you are.

Lys was coldly polite to me and sweetly gracious to Bradley and Olson.
She wasn't of the gushing type, I knew; so I didn't expect much from
her and was duly grateful for the few morsels of attention

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