"The kree kills a sheep by alighting on its back and tearing away
the flesh with its hooked beak until a vital part is reached. You
know that? Well, it has been discovered that the kree had prehistoric
prototypes. These birds were enormous creatures, who preyed upon
mammoths and mastodons, and even upon the great saurians. It has
been conclusively proved that a few saurians have been killed by
the ancestors of the kree, but the favourite food of these birds was
undoubtedly the Thermosaurus. It is believed that the birds attacked
the eyes of the Thermosaurus, and when, as was its habit, the mammoth
creature turned on its back to claw them, they fell upon the thinner
scales of its stomach armour and finally killed it. This, of course,
is a theory, but we have almost absolute proofs of its correctness.
Now, these two birds are known among scientists as the ekaf-bird and
the ool-yllik. The names are Australian, in which country most of
their remains have been unearthed. They lived during the Carboniferous
period. Now it is not generally known, but the fact is, that in
1801 Captain Ransom, of the British exploring vessel Gull, purchased
from the natives of Tasmania the skin of an ekaf-bird that could not
have been killed more than twenty-four hours previous to its sale. I
saw this skin in the British Museum. It was labelled "unknown bird,
probably extinct." It took me exactly a week to satisfy myself that it
was actually the skin of an ekaf-bird. But that is not all, Dick, my
boy," continued the professor excitedly. "In 1854, Admiral Stuart, of
our own navy, saw the carcass of a strange gigantic bird floating along
the southern coast of Australia. Sharks were after it, and, before a
boat could be lowered, these miserable fish got it. But the good old
admiral secured a few feathers and sent them to the Smithsonian. I saw
them. They were not even labelled, but I knew that they were feathers
from the ekaf-bird or its near relative, the ool-yllik."
I had grown so interested that I had leaned far across the table.
Daisy, too, bent forward. It was only when the professor paused for a
moment that I noticed how close together our heads were--Daisy's and
mine. I don't think she realized it. She did not move.
"Now comes the important part of this long discourse," said the
professor, smiling at our eagerness. "Ever since the carcass of our
derelict Thermosaurus was first noticed, every captain who has seen
it has also reported the presence of one or more gigantic birds in
the neighbourhood. These birds, at a great distance, appeared to
be hovering over the carcass, but on the approach of a vessel they
disappeared. Even in midocean they were observed. When I heard about it
I was puzzled. A month later I was satisfied that neither the ekaf-bird
nor the ool-yllik was extinct. Last Monday I knew that I was right.
I found forty-eight distinct impressions of the huge seven-toed claw
of the ekaf-bird on the beach here at Pine Inlet. You may imagine my
excitement. I succeeded in digging up enough wet sand around one of
these impressions to preserve its form. I managed to get it into a soap
box, and now it is there in my shop. The tide rose too rapidly for me
to save the other footprints."
I shuddered at the possibility of a clumsy misstep on my part
obliterating the impression of an ool-yllik.
"That is the reason that my daughter warned you off the beach," he said
mildly.
"Hanging would have been too good for the vandal who destroyed such
priceless prizes!" I cried out in self-reproach.
Daisy Holroyd turned a flushed face to mine, and impulsively laid her
hand on my sleeve.
"How could you know?" she said.
"It's all right now," said her father, emphasizing each word with
a gentle tap of his pipe-bowl on the table edge; "don't be hard on
yourself, Dick, my boy. You'll do yeoman's service yet."
It was nearly midnight, and still we chatted on about the Thermosaurus,
the ekaf-bird, and the ool-yllik, eagerly discussing the probability of
the great reptile's carcass being in the vicinity. That alone seemed to
explain the presence of these prehistoric birds at Pine Inlet.
"Do they ever attack human beings?" I asked.
The professor looked startled.
"Gracious!" he exclaimed, "I never thought of that. And Daisy running
about out of doors! Dear me! it takes a scientist to be an unnatural
parent!"
His alarm was half real, half assumed; but all the same, he glanced
gravely at us both, shaking his handsome head, absorbed in thought.
Daisy herself looked a little doubtful. As for me, my sensations were
distinctly queer.
"It is true," said the professor, frowning at the wall, "that human
remains have been found associated with the bones of the ekaf-bird--I
don't know how intimately. It is a matter to be taken into most serious
consideration."
"The problem can be solved," said I, "in several ways. One is, to keep
Miss Holroyd in the house----"
"I shall not stay in!" cried Daisy indignantly.
We all laughed, and her father assured her that she should not be
abused.
"Even if I did stay in," she said, "one of these birds might alight on
Master Dick."
She looked saucily at me as she spoke, but turned crimson when her
father observed quietly, "You don't seem to think of me, Daisy."
"Of course I do," she said, getting up and putting both arms around
her father's neck; "but Dick--as--as you call him--is so helpless and
timid."
My blissful smile froze on my lips.
"Timid!" I repeated.
She came back to the table, making me a mocking reverence.
"Do you think I am to be laughed at with impunity?" she said.
"What are your other plans, Dick, my boy?" asked the
professor.--"Daisy, let him alone, you little tease!"
"One is, to haul a lot of cast-iron boilers along the dunes," I said.
"If these birds come when the carcass floats in, and if they seem
disposed to trouble us, we could crawl into the boilers and be safe."
"Why, that is really brilliant!" cried Daisy.
"Be quiet, my child! Dick, the plan is sound and sensible and perfectly
practical. McPeek and Frisby shall go for a dozen loads of boilers
to-morrow."
"It will spoil the beauty of the landscape," said Daisy, with a
taunting nod to me.
"And Frisby will probably attempt to cover them with bill-posters," I
added, laughing.
"That," said Daisy, "I shall prevent, even at the cost of my life." And
she stood up, looking very determined.
"Children, children," protested the professor, "go to bed--you bother
me."
Then I turned deliberately to Miss Holroyd.
"Good-night, Daisy," I said.
"Good-night, Dick," she said, very gently.