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Read Ebook: The Book of Brave Old Ballads by Gilbert John Illustrator
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Ebook has 820 lines and 41105 words, and 17 pages
McLaughlin did not relax. From now on the route was a little more difficult to follow, and there were not too many more hours of daylight. The shadowless night glow which made vision relatively easy after sunset did not lend itself to aerial navigation over a very poorly mapped world. He kept his eyes on the shoreline, watching for the landmarks he had not seen for many months--and then not from above. He did not see the Felodon which became so intensely interested in the helicopter. If he had, he would have attached little importance to the creature's presence, and he could not possibly have seen its actions in sufficient detail to catch any peculiarities in them.
No one else saw the beast, either. The change in course had roused most of the party from whatever lines of thought they had been pursuing, as it had McLaughlin, and most of them were looking out the windows; but they were interested in what lay ahead, not below. Sometime soon the relative monotony of jungle and swamp should be relieved by rising ground, indicating the nearness of the mountains they sought; and the helicopter's flight altitude of some two thousand feet was low enough to permit any significant rise of terrain to be visible. Sulewayo, the younger paleontologist, made a remark to that effect, which passed without comment. Real conversation did not start for some minutes.
"As I understand it, we have one more course change before we see the mountains. Isn't there a river we have to follow for a time, String?" Lampert asked the question without looking back.
"That's right," McLaughlin replied. "It runs into Green Bay from almost straight north, and about a hundred miles inland makes a turn to the east. That's general direction. It winds a lot."
"It would, in country as nearly peneplaned as this," muttered Lampert under his breath.
"The mountains you want start about sixty airline miles from the big bend. If you trust your gyro compass enough, you can head for them directly from the river mouth. If you have any doubt about being able to hold a line, though, follow the river. I doubt that there are any good landmarks otherwise. Of course, I've only seen the area from the surface and close to the river, but I'd be very surprised if there was anything around but the swamp-and-jungle mess we're over now."
"I hope these hills we're looking for have something of interest. This planet is the most monotonous I've seen yet. Where it isn't jungle it's swamp; and the only difference between the two is that the jungle grows higher trees." McLaughlin's face crinkled into something like a smile, and he sat up once more.
"There's one other difference," he remarked.
"What's that?"
"In the jungle, dressed and equipped as you now are, you might live as long as a day. In the swamp, five minutes would be an optimistic estimate." Sulewayo looked down at the shorts and boots which constituted his costume, and shrugged.
"I admit the point, but I don't expect to go out this way. What I actually wear and carry, beside my professional equipment, is up to you. Also, I was referring to appearances. Beta Lyrae Nine looked almost as dull as this world from above, and I'll bet it was as least as deadly when you reached the surface." McLaughlin had never visited New Sheol, and admitted it, but it took more than that to stop Sulewayo.
"Actually, I was hoping that these hills didn't turn out to be so covered with soil that any fossils would be yards underground at the best. Do you recall any places where the rock strata themselves were exposed--steep cliffs, or deep stream gullies, perhaps?"
"Definitely yes. The big river cuts right across the range, or else starts in it. It comes out from a canyon like that of the Colorado on Earth, though a lot less spectacular. Actually I don't know anything about the country more than a couple of miles up that canyon. I was stopped on the river by rapids, and couldn't get my amphib out on either side. For the most part there simply wasn't any shore, just cliff."
"Quite a current, I suppose?" Lampert cut in.
"Actually, not very much. I went swimming in worse, on Earth."
"That hardly ties in with steep cliffs and a river cutting through a mountain range."
McLaughlin shrugged. "You're the geologist. Look it over for yourself. Maybe you'll just have to add it to the list of things you don't understand about Viridis."
"Fair enough." The pilot-commander-geophysicist nodded. "I did not mean to imply that you were not reporting accurately; but the situation you have described would be a trifle queer on more planets than Earth, I assure you. Still, with luck your cliffs will show fossils. Maybe we'll solve one problem in exchange for another. Life could be worse."
"Just hope we don't solve the first one by proving that certain geophysicists have been talking through their hats," the hitherto silent Krendall remarked.
"Eh?"
"What would you do if we found a chunk of, say, pegmatite with radioactive inclusions that checked out at half a billion years instead of the thirty-odd million you lads have been giving us as a time scale for this mudball?"
"I should check very carefully under what circumstances and in what location you found it. If necessary, I would admit that the problem had disappeared. Half a billion years would account reasonably well for the evolutionary status of this planet's life forms, though actually it took Earth a good deal longer to reach a corresponding condition. Frankly, however, I do not expect any such find. We spotted our borings rather carefully, and should have taken pretty representative samples."
"I'm sure you did. If your results are right, it just means that the problem belongs to Hans and me--and String here had better find us a lot of fossils."
"You'll have to find your own bones," McLaughlin replied. "I'm taking you to the sort of ground you want. A fossil would have to show its teeth in my face before I'd recognize it--and then I'd probably shoot before I realized it was dead."
"All right," Sulewayo chuckled. "You take caose Lightly every one.
Then went he to the market place, As fast as he could hie; There a pair of new gallows he set up Beside the pillory.
A little boy among them asked, What meaneth that gallows-tree? They said to hang a good yeoman, Called William of Cloudesly.
That little boy was the town swine-herd, And kept fair Alice's swine; Oft he had seen William in the wood, And given him there to dine.
He went out at a crevice in the wall, And lightly to the wood did gon'; There met he with these wight yeomen Shortly and anon.
Alas! then said that little boy, Ye tarry here all too long; Cloudesly is taken, and dampned to death, All ready for to hong.
Alas! then said good Adam Bell, That ever we see this day! He had better with us have tarried, So oft as we did him pray.
He might have dwelt in green forest, Under the shadows green, And have kept both him and us at rest, Out of all trouble and teen.
Adam bent a right good bow, A great hart soon he had slain; Take that, child, he said, to thy dinner, And bring me mine arrow again.
Now go we hence, said these wight yeomen, Tarry we no longer here; We shall him borrow by God his grace, Though we buy it full dear.
To Carlisle went these bold yeomen, All in the morning of May. Here is a FYT of Cloudesly, And another is for to say.
PART THE SECOND.
And when they came to merry Carlisle, All in the morning tide, They found the gates shut them against About on every side.
Alas! then said good Adam Bell, That ever we were made men! These gates he shut so wondrous fast, We may not come therein.
Then bespake him Clym of the Clough, With a wile we will us in bring; Let us say we be messengers, Straight come now from our king.
Adam said, I have a letter written, Now let us wisely work, We will say we have the king's seal; I hold the porter no clerk.
Then Adam Bell beat on the gates With strokes great and strong, The porter marvelled who was there, And to the gates he throng.
Who is there now, said the porter, That maketh all this knocking? We be two messengers, quoth Clym of the Clough, Be come right from our king.
We have a letter, said Adam Bell, To the justice we must it bring; Let us in our message to do, That we may again to the king.
Then spake the good yeoman, Clym of the Clough, And swore by Mary free, And if that we stand long without, Like a thief hanged thou shalt be.
Lo! here we have the king's seal: What, Lurden, art thou wood? The porter thought it had been so, And lightly did off his hood.
Welcome is my lord's seal, he said; For that ye shall come in. He opened the gate full shortly; An evil opening for him.
Now are we in, said Adam Bell, Whereof we are full fain; But Christ he knowes, that harrowed hell, How we shall come out again.
Had we the keys, said Clym of the Clough, Right well then should we speed, Then might we come out well enough When we see time and need.
They called the porter to counsel, And wrung his neck in two, And cast him in a deep dungeon, And took his keys him fro'.
Now am I porter, said Adam Bell, See, brother, the keys are here, The worst porter to merry Carlisle That they had this hundred year.
And now will we our bows bend, Into the town will we go, For to deliver our dear brother, That lyeth in care and woe.
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