SEVERAL 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.
The 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 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 zest 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 reading of that letter was completed lions and lion-hunting had fled my thoughts, and I was in a state
of excitement bordering upon frenzy.
ItÑwell, 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 that 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 combined the two and invested
them carefully and without extravagance.
I became interested in your story, At the Earth's 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 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 season 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
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 commenced to investigate.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I - LOST ON PELLUCIDAR
CHAPTER II - TRAVELING WITH TERROR
CHAPTER III - SHOOTING THE CHUTES -- AND AFTER
CHAPTER IV - FRIENDSHIP AND TREACHERY
CHAPTER V - SURPRISES
CHAPTER VI - A PENDENT WORLD
CHAPTER VII - FROM PLIGHT TO PLIGHT
CHAPTER VIII - CAPTIVE
CHAPTER IX - HOOJA'S CUTTHROATS APPEAR
CHAPTER X - THE RAID ON THE CAVE-PRISON
CHAPTER XI - ESCAPE
CHAPTER XII - KIDNAPED!
CHAPTER XIII - RACING FOR LIFE
CHAPTER XIV - GORE AND DREAMS
CHAPTER XV - CONQUEST AND PEACE
Softcover, 5¼" x 8¼", 175+ pages
Perfect-Bound