The best known of early dinosaur novels, by the creator of Sherlock Holmes:
The Lost World
By
SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
COPYRIGHT, 1912
I have wrought my simple plan
If I give one hour of joy
To the boy who's half a man,
Or the man who's half a boy.
"I stood like a man paralyzed, still staring at the ground which I had
traversed. Then suddenly I saw it. There was movement among the
bushes at the far end of the clearing which I had just traversed. A
great dark shadow disengaged itself and hopped out into the clear
moonlight. I say "hopped" advisedly, for the beast moved like a
kangaroo, springing along in an erect position upon its powerful hind
legs, while its front ones were held bent in front of it. It was of
enormous size and power, like an erect elephant, but its movements, in
spite of its bulk, were exceedingly alert. For a moment, as I saw its
shape, I hoped that it was an iguanodon, which I knew to be harmless,
but, ignorant as I was, I soon saw that this was a very different
creature. Instead of the gentle, deer-shaped head of the great
three-toed leaf-eater, this beast had a broad, squat, toad-like face
like that which had alarmed us in our camp. His ferocious cry and the
horrible energy of his pursuit both assured me that this was surely one
of the great flesh-eating dinosaurs, the most terrible beasts which
have ever walked this earth. As the huge brute loped along it dropped
forward upon its fore-paws and brought its nose to the ground every
twenty yards or so. It was smelling out my trail. Sometimes, for an
instant, it was at fault. Then it would catch it up again and come
bounding swiftly along the path I had taken.
Even now when I think of that nightmare the sweat breaks out upon my
brow. What could I do? My useless fowling-piece was in my hand. What
help could I get from that? I looked desperately round for some rock
or tree, but I was in a bushy jungle with nothing higher than a sapling
within sight, while I knew that the creature behind me could tear down
an ordinary tree as though it were a reed. My only possible chance lay
in flight. I could not move swiftly over the rough, broken ground, but
as I looked round me in despair I saw a well-marked, hard-beaten path
which ran across in front of me. We had seen several of the sort, the
runs of various wild beasts, during our expeditions. Along this I
could perhaps hold my own, for I was a fast runner, and in excellent
condition. Flinging away my useless gun, I set myself to do such a
half-mile as I have never done before or since. My limbs ached, my
chest heaved, I felt that my throat would burst for want of air, and
yet with that horror behind me I ran and I ran and ran. At last I
paused, hardly able to move. For a moment I thought that I had thrown
him off. The path lay still behind me. And then suddenly, with a
crashing and a rending, a thudding of giant feet and a panting of
monster lungs the beast was upon me once more. He was at my very
heels. I was lost."
