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But if prehistoric life existed upon the plateau it was not
superabundant, for we had no further glimpse of it during the
next three days. During this time we traversed a barren and
forbidding country, which alternated between stony desert and
desolate marshes full of many wild-fowl, upon the north and
east of the cliffs. From that direction the place is really
inaccessible, and, were it not for a hardish ledge which runs at
the very base of the precipice, we should have had to turn back.
Many times we were up to our waists in the slime and blubber of
an old, semi-tropical swamp. To make matters worse, the place
seemed to be a favorite breeding-place of the Jaracaca snake, the
most venomous and aggressive in South America. Again and again
these horrible creatures came writhing and springing towards us
across the surface of this putrid bog, and it was only by keeping
our shot-guns for ever ready that we could feel safe from them.
One funnel-shaped depression in the morass, of a livid green in
color from some lichen which festered in it, will always remain
as a nightmare memory in my mind. It seems to have been a
special nest of these vermins, and the slopes were alive with
them, all writhing in our direction, for it is a peculiarity
of the Jaracaca that he will always attack man at first sight.
There were too many for us to shoot, so we fairly took to our
heels and ran until we were exhausted. I shall always remember
as we looked back how far behind we could see the heads and necks
of our horrible pursuers rising and falling amid the reeds.
Jaracaca Swamp we named it in the map which we are constructing.
The cliffs upon the farther side had lost their ruddy tint, being
chocolate-brown in color; the vegetation was more scattered along
the top of them, and they had sunk to three or four hundred feet
in height, but in no place did we find any point where they could
be ascended. If anything, they were more impossible than at the
first point where we had met them. Their absolute steepness is
indicated in the photograph which I took over the stony desert.
"Surely," said I, as we discussed the situation, "the rain must
find its way down somehow. There are bound to be water-channels
in the rocks."
"Our young friend has glimpses of lucidity," said Professor
Challenger, patting me upon the shoulder.
"The rain must go somewhere," I repeated.
"He keeps a firm grip upon actuality. The only drawback is that
we have conclusively proved by ocular demonstration that there
are no water channels down the rocks."
"Where, then, does it go?" I persisted.
"I think it may be fairly assumed that if it does not come
outwards it must run inwards."
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