The Lost Continent

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 2

story
in a less formal, and I hope, a more entertaining, style; though, being
only a naval officer and without claim to the slightest literary
ability, I shall most certainly fall far short of the possibilities
which are inherent in my subject. That I have passed through the most
wondrous adventures that have befallen a civilized man during the past
two centuries encourages me in the belief that, however ill the
telling, the facts themselves will command your interest to the final
page.

Beyond thirty! Romance, adventure, strange peoples, fearsome
beasts--all the excitement and scurry of the lives of the twentieth
century ancients that have been denied us in these dull days of peace
and prosaic prosperity--all, all lay beyond thirty, the invisible
barrier between the stupid, commercial present and the carefree,
barbarous past.

What boy has not sighed for the good old days of wars, revolutions, and
riots; how I used to pore over the chronicles of those old days, those
dear old days, when workmen went armed to their labors; when they fell
upon one another with gun and bomb and dagger, and the streets ran red
with blood! Ah, but those were the times when life was worth the
living; when a man who went out by night knew not at which dark corner
a "footpad" might leap upon and slay him; when wild beasts roamed the
forest and the jungles, and there were savage men, and countries yet
unexplored.

Now, in all the Western Hemisphere dwells no man who may not find a
school house within walking distance of his home, or at least within
flying distance.

The wildest beast that roams our waste places lairs in the frozen north
or the frozen south within a government reserve, where the curious may
view him and feed him bread crusts from the hand with perfect impunity.

But beyond thirty! And I have gone there, and come back; and now you
may go there, for no longer is it high treason, punishable by disgrace
or death, to cross 30d or 175d.

My name is Jefferson Turck. I am a lieutenant in the navy--in the
great Pan-American navy, the only navy which now exists in all the
world.

I was born in Arizona, in the United States of North America, in the
year of our Lord 2116. Therefore, I am twenty-one years old.

In early boyhood I tired of the teeming cities and overcrowded rural
districts of Arizona. Every generation of Turcks for over two
centuries has been represented in the navy. The navy called to me, as
did the free, wide,

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Text Comparison with Pellucidar

Page 3
The finding of the telegraph-instrument practically assured me that David Innes had driven Perry's iron mole back through the earth's crust to the buried world of Pellucidar; but 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 tribes 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.
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The one to the left must be Anoroc.
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