. I was already close to the ground, so
that my maneuver was extremely dangerous; but I was in a fair way of
making it successfully when I saw that I was too closely approaching a
large tree. My effort to dodge the tree and the pterodactyl at the
same time resulted disastrously. One wing touched an upper branch; the
plane tipped and swung around, and then, out of control, dashed into
the branches of the tree, where it came to rest, battered and torn,
forty feet above the ground.

Hissing loudly, the huge reptile swept close above the tree in which my
plane had lodged, circled twice over me and then flapped away toward
the south. As I guessed then and was to learn later, forests are the
surest sanctuary from these hideous creatures, which, with their
enormous spread of wing and their great weight, are as much out of
place among trees as is a seaplane.

For a minute or so I clung there to my battered flyer, now useless
beyond redemption, my brain numbed by the frightful catastrophe that
had befallen me. All my plans for the succor of Bowen and Miss La Rue
had depended upon this craft, and in a few brief minutes my own selfish
love of adventure had wrecked their hopes and mine. And what effect it
might have upon the future of the balance of the rescuing expedition I
could not even guess. Their lives, too, might be sacrificed to my
suicidal foolishness. That I was doomed seemed inevitable; but I can
honestly say that the fate of my friends concerned me more greatly than
did my own.

Beyond the barrier cliffs my party was even now nervously awaiting my
return. Presently apprehension and fear would claim them--and they
would never know! They would attempt to scale the cliffs--of that I
was sure; but I was not so positive that they would succeed; and after
a while they would turn back, what there were left of them, and go
sadly and mournfully upon their return journey to home. Home! I set
my jaws and tried to forget the word, for I knew that I should never
again see home.

And what of Bowen and his girl? I had doomed them too. They would
never even know that an attempt had been made to rescue them. If they
still lived, they might some day come upon the ruined remnants of this
great plane hanging in its lofty sepulcher and hazard vain guesses and
be filled with wonder; but they would never know; and I could not but
be glad that they would not know that Tom Billings had sealed their
death-warrants by his crim