It was during the morning of July 6, 2137, that we enteredthe mouth of the Thames--to the best of my knowledge thefirst Western keel to cut those historic waters for twohundred and twenty-one years!

But where were the tugs and the lighters and the barges, thelightships and the buoys, and all those countless attributeswhich went to make up the myriad life of the ancient Thames?

Gone! All gone! Only silence and desolation reigned whereonce the commerce of the world had centered.

I could not help but compare this once great water-way withthe waters about our New York, or Rio, or San Diego, orValparaiso. They had become what they are today during thetwo centuries of the profound peace which we of the navyhave been prone to deplore. And what, during this sameperiod, had shorn the waters of the Thames of their pristinegrandeur?

Militarist that I am, I could find but a single word ofexplanation--war!

I bowed my head and turned my eyes downward from the lonelyand depressing sight, and in a silence which none of usseemed willing to break, we proceeded up the deserted river.

We had reached a point which, from my map, I imagined musthave been about the former site of Erith, when I discovereda small band of antelope a short distance inland. As wewere now entirely out of meat once more, and as I had givenup all expectations of finding a city upon the site ofancient London, I determined to land and bag a couple of theanimals.

Assured that they would be timid and easily frightened, Idecided to stalk them alone, telling the men to wait at theboat until I called to them to come and carry the carcassesback to the shore.

Crawling carefully through the vegetation, making use ofsuch trees and bushes as afforded shelter, I came at lastalmost within easy range of my quarry, when the antleredhead of the buck went suddenly into the air, and then, asthough in accordance with a prearranged signal, the wholeband moved slowly off, farther inland.

As their pace was leisurely, I determined to follow themuntil I came again within range, as I was sure that theywould stop and feed in a short time.

They must have led me a mile or more at least before theyagain halted and commenced to browse upon the rank,luxuriant grasses. All the time that I had followed them Ihad kept both eyes and ears alert for sign or sound thatwould indicate the presence of Felis tigris; but so far notthe slightest indication of the beast had been apparent.

As I crept closer to the antelope, sure this time of a goodshot at a large buck, I suddenly saw something that causedme to forget all about my prey in wonderment.

It was the figure of an immense grey-black creature, rearingits colossal shoulders twelve or fourteen feet above theground. Never in my life had I seen such a beast, nor did Iat first recognize it, so different in appearance is thelive reality from the stuffed, unnatural specimens preservedto us in our museums.

But presently I guessed the identity of the mighty creatureas Elephas africanus, or, as the ancients commonly describedit, African elephant.

The antelope, although in plain view of the huge beast, paidnot the slightest attention to it, and I was so wrapped upin watching the mighty pachyderm that I quite forgot toshoot at the buck and presently, and in quite a startlingmanner, it became impossible to do so.

The elephant was browsing upon the young and tender shootsof some low bushes, waving his great ears and switching hisshort tail. The antelope, scarce twenty paces from him,continued their feeding, when suddenly, from close besidethe latter, there came a most terrifying roar, and I saw agreat, tawny body shoot, from the concealing verdure beyondthe antelope, full upon the back of a small buck.

Instantly the scene changed from one of quiet and peace toindescribable chaos. The startled and terrified buckuttered cries of agony. His fellows broke and leaped off inall directions. The elephant raised his trunk, and,trumpeting loudly, lumbered off through the wood, crushingdown small trees and trampling bushes in his mad flight.

Growling horribly, a huge lion stood across the body of hisprey--such a creature as no Pan-American of the twenty-second century had ever beheld until my eyes rested uponthis lordly specimen of "the king of beasts." But what adifferent creature was this fierce-eyed demon, palpitatingwith life and vigor, glossy of coat, alert, growling,magnificent, from the dingy, moth-eaten replicas beneaththeir glass cases in the stuffy halls of our public museums.

I had never hoped or expected to see a living lion, tiger,or elephant--using the common terms that were familiar tothe ancients, since they seem to me less unwieldy than thosenow in general use among us--and so it was with sentimentsnot unmixed with awe that I stood gazing at this regal beastas, above the carcass of his kill, he roared out hischallenge to the world.

So enthralled was I by the spectacle that I quite forgotmyself, and the better to view him, the great lion, I hadrisen to my feet and stood, not fifty paces from him, infull view.

For a moment he did not see me, his attention being directedtoward the retreating elephant, and I had ample time tofeast my eyes upon his splendid proportions, his great head,and his thick black mane.

Ah, what thoughts passed through my mind in those briefmoments as I stood there in rapt fascination! I had come tofind a wondrous civilization, and instead I found a wild-beast monarch of the realm where English kings had ruled. Alion reigned, undisturbed, within a few miles of the seat ofone of the greatest governments the world has ever known,his domain a howling wilderness, where yesterday fell theshadows of the largest city in the world.

It was appalling; but my reflections upon this depressingsubject were doomed to sudden extinction. The lion haddiscovered me.

For an instant he stood silent and motionless as one of themangy effigies at home, but only for an instant. Then, witha most ferocious roar, and without the slightest hesitancyor warning, he charged upon me.

He forsook the prey already dead beneath him for thepleasures of the delectable tidbit, man. From theremorselessness with which the great Carnivora of modernEngland hunted man, I am constrained to believe that,whatever their appetites in times past, they have cultivateda gruesome taste for human flesh.

As I threw my rifle to my shoulder, I thanked God, theancient God of my ancestors, that I had replaced the hard-jacketed bullets in my weapon with soft-nosed projectiles,for though this was my first experience with Felis leo, Iknew the moment that I faced that charge that even mywonderfully perfected firearm would be as futile as apeashooter unless I chanced to place my first bullet in avital spot.

Unless you had seen it you could not believe credible thespeed of a charging lion. Apparently the animal is notbuilt for speed, nor can he maintain it for long. But for amatter of forty or fifty yards there is, I believe, noanimal on earth that can overtake him.

Like a bolt he bore down upon me, but, fortunately for me, Idid not lose my head. I guessed that no bullet would killhim instantly. I doubted that I could pierce his skull.There was hope, though, in finding his heart through hisexposed chest, or, better yet, of breaking his shoulder orforeleg, and bringing him up long enough to pump morebullets into him and finish him.

I covered his left shoulder and pulled the trigger as he wasalmost upon me. It stopped him. With a terrific howl ofpain and rage, the brute rolled over and over upon theground almost to my feet. As he came I pumped two morebullets into him, and as he struggled to rise, clawingviciously at me, I put a bullet in his spine.

That finished him, and I am free to admit that I was mightyglad of it. There was a great tree close behind me, and,stepping within its shade, I leaned against it, wiping theperspiration from my face, for the day was hot, and theexertion and excitement left me exhausted.

I stood there, resting, for a moment, preparatory to turningand retracing my steps to the launch, when, without warning,something whizzed through space straight toward me. Therewas a dull thud of impact as it struck the tree, and as Idodged to one side and turned to look at the thing I saw aheavy spear imbedded in the wood not three inches from wheremy head had been.

The thing had come from a little to one side of me, and,without waiting to investigate at the instant, I leapedbehind the tree, and, circling it, peered around the otherside to get a sight of my would-be murderer.

This time I was pitted against men--the spear told me thatall too plainly--but so long as they didn't take me unawaresor from behind I had little fear of them.

Cautiously I edged about the far side of the trees until Icould obtain a view of the spot from which the spear musthave come, and when I did I saw the head of a man justemerging from behind a bush.

The fellow was quite similar in type to those I had seenupon the Isle of Wight. He was hairy and unkempt, and as hefinally stepped into view I saw that he was garbed in thesame primitive fashion.

He stood for a moment gazing about in search of me, and thenhe advanced. As he did so a number of others, preciselylike him, stepped from the concealing verdure of nearbybushes and followed in his wake. Keeping the trees betweenthem and me, I ran back a short distance until I found aclump of underbrush that would effectually conceal me, for Iwished to discover the strength of the party and itsarmament before attempting to parley with it.

The useless destruction of any of these poor creatures wasthe farthest idea from my mind. I should have liked to havespoken with them, but I did not care to risk having to usemy high-powered rifle upon them other than in the lastextremity.

Once in my new place of concealment, I watched them as theyapproached the tree. There were about thirty men in theparty and one woman--a girl whose hands seemed to be boundbehind her and who was being pulled along by two of the men.

They came forward warily, peering cautiously into every bushand halting often. At the body of the lion, they paused,and I could see from their gesticulations and the higherpitch of their voices that they were much excited over mykill.

But presently they resumed their search for me, and as theyadvanced I became suddenly aware of the unnecessarybrutality with which the girl's guards were treating her.She stumbled once, not far from my place of concealment, andafter the balance of the party had passed me. As she did soone of the men at her side jerked her roughly to her feetand struck her across the mouth with his fist.

Instantly my blood boiled, and forgetting everyconsideration of caution, I leaped from my concealment, and,springing to the man's side, felled him with a blow.

So unexpected had been my act that it found him and hisfellow unprepared; but instantly the latter drew the knifethat protruded from his belt and lunged viciously at me, atthe same time giving voice to a wild cry of alarm.

The girl shrank back at sight of me, her eyes wide inastonishment, and then my antagonist was upon me. I parriedhis first blow with my forearm, at the same time deliveringa powerful blow to his jaw that sent him reeling back; buthe was at me again in an instant, though in the briefinterim I had time to draw my revolver.

I saw his companion crawling slowly to his feet, and theothers of the party racing down upon me. There was no timeto argue now, other than with the weapons we wore, and so,as the fellow lunged at me again with the wicked-lookingknife, I covered his heart and pulled the trigger.

Without a sound, he slipped to the earth, and then I turnedthe weapon upon the other guard, who was now about to attackme. He, too, collapsed, and I was alone with the astonishedgirl.

The balance of the party was some twenty paces from us, butcoming rapidly. I seized her arm and drew her after mebehind a nearby tree, for I had seen that with both theircomrades down the others were preparing to launch theirspears.

With the girl safe behind the tree, I stepped out in sightof the advancing foe, shouting to them that I was no enemy,and that they should halt and listen to me. But for answerthey only yelled in derision and launched a couple of spearsat me, both of which missed.

I saw then that I must fight, yet still I hated to slaythem, and it was only as a final resort that I dropped twoof them with my rifle, bringing the others to a temporaryhalt. Again, I appealed to them to desist. But they onlymistook my solicitude for them for fear, and, with shouts ofrage and derision, leaped forward once again to overwhelmme.

It was now quite evident that I must punish them severely,or--myself--die and relinquish the girl once more to hercaptors. Neither of these things had I the slightest notionof doing, and so I again stepped from behind the tree, and,with all the care and deliberation of target practice, Icommenced picking off the foremost of my assailants.

One by one the wild men dropped, yet on came the others,fierce and vengeful, until, only a few remaining, theseseemed to realize the futility of combating my modern weaponwith their primitive spears, and, still howling wrathfully,withdrew toward the west.

Now, for the first time, I had an opportunity to turn myattention toward the girl, who had stood, silent andmotionless, behind me as I pumped death into my enemies andhers from my automatic rifle.

She was of medium height, well formed, and with fine, clear-cut features. Her forehead was high, and her eyes bothintelligent and beautiful. Exposure to the sun had browneda smooth and velvety skin to a shade which seemed to enhancerather than mar an altogether lovely picture of youthfulfemininity.

A trace of apprehension marked her expression--I cannot callit fear since I have learned to know her--and astonishmentwas still apparent in her eyes. She stood quite erect, herhands still bound behind her, and met my gaze with level,proud return.

"What language do you speak?" I asked. "Do you understandmine?"

"Yes," she replied. "It is similar to my own. I amGrabritin. What are you?"

"I am a Pan-American," I answered. She shook her head."What is that?"

I pointed toward the west. "Far away, across the ocean."

Her expression altered a trifle. A slight frown contractedher brow. The expression of apprehension deepened.

"Take off your cap," she said, and when, to humor herstrange request, I did as she bid, she appeared relieved.Then she edged to one side and leaned over seemingly to peerbehind me. I turned quickly to see what she discovered, butfinding nothing, wheeled about to see that her expressionwas once more altered.

"You are not from there?" and she pointed toward the east.It was a half question. "You are not from across the waterthere?"

"No," I assured her. "I am from Pan-America, far away tothe west. Have you ever heard of Pan-America?"

She shook her head in negation. "I do not care where youare from," she explained, "if you are not from there, and Iam sure you are not, for the men from there have horns andtails."

It was with difficulty that I restrained a smile.

"Who are the men from there?" I asked.

"They are bad men," she replied. "Some of my people do notbelieve that there are such creatures. But we have alegend--a very old, old legend, that once the men from therecame across to Grabritin. They came upon the water, andunder the water, and even in the air. They came in greatnumbers, so that they rolled across the land like a greatgray fog. They brought with them thunder and lightning andsmoke that killed, and they fell upon us and slew our peopleby the thousands and the hundreds of thousands. But at lastwe drove them back to the water's edge, back into the sea,where many were drowned. Some escaped, and these our peoplefollowed--men, women, and even children, we followed themback. That is all. The legend says our people neverreturned. Maybe they were all killed. Maybe they are stillthere. But this, also, is in the legend, that as we drovethe men back across the water they swore that they wouldreturn, and that when they left our shores they would leaveno human being alive behind them. I was afraid that youwere from there."

"By what name were these men called?" I asked.

"We call them only the 'men from there,'" she replied,pointing toward the east. "I have never heard that they hadanother name."

In the light of what I knew of ancient history, it was notdifficult for me to guess the nationality of those shedescribed simply as "the men from over there." But whatutter and appalling devastation the Great War must havewrought to have erased not only every sign of civilizationfrom the face of this great land, but even the name of theenemy from the knowledge and language of the people.

I could only account for it on the hypothesis that thecountry had been entirely depopulated except for a fewscattered and forgotten children, who, in some marvelousmanner, had been preserved by Providence to re-populate theland. These children had, doubtless, been too young toretain in their memories to transmit to their children anybut the vaguest suggestion of the cataclysm which hadoverwhelmed their parents.

Professor Cortoran, since my return to Pan-America, hassuggested another theory which is not entirely without claimto serious consideration. He points out that it is quitebeyond the pale of human instinct to desert little childrenas my theory suggests the ancient English must have done.He is more inclined to believe that the expulsion of the foefrom England was synchronous with widespread victories bythe allies upon the continent, and that the people ofEngland merely emigrated from their ruined cities and theirdevastated, blood-drenched fields to the mainland, in thehope of finding, in the domain of the conquered enemy,cities and farms which would replace those they had lost.

The learned professor assumes that while a long-continuedwar had strengthened rather than weakened the instinct ofpaternal devotion, it had also dulled other humanitarianinstincts, and raised to the first magnitude the law of thesurvival of the fittest, with the result that when theexodus took place the strong, the intelligent, and thecunning, together with their offspring, crossed the watersof the Channel or the North Sea to the continent, leaving inunhappy England only the helpless inmates of asylums for thefeebleminded and insane.

My objections to this, that the present inhabitants ofEngland are mentally fit, and could therefore not havedescended from an ancestry of undiluted lunacy he brushesaside with the assertion that insanity is not necessarilyhereditary; and that even though it was, in many cases areturn to natural conditions from the state of highcivilization, which is thought to have induced mentaldisease in the ancient world, would, after severalgenerations, have thoroughly expunged every trace of theaffliction from the brains and nerves of the descendants ofthe original maniacs.

Personally, I do not place much stock in ProfessorCortoran's theory, though I admit that I am prejudiced.Naturally one does not care to believe that the object ofhis greatest affection is descended from a gibbering idiotand a raving maniac.

But I am forgetting the continuity of my narrative--acontinuity which I desire to maintain, though I fear that Ishall often be led astray, so numerous and varied are thebypaths of speculation which lead from the present day storyof the Grabritins into the mysterious past of theirforbears.

As I stood talking with the girl I presently recollectedthat she still was bound, and with a word of apology, I drewmy knife and cut the rawhide thongs which confined herwrists at her back.

She thanked me, and with such a sweet smile that I shouldhave been amply repaid by it for a much more arduousservice.

"And now," I said, "let me accompany you to your home andsee you safely again under the protection of your friends."

"No," she said, with a hint of alarm in her voice; "you mustnot come with me--Buckingham will kill you."

Buckingham. The name was famous in ancient English history.Its survival, with many other illustrious names, is one ofthe strongest arguments in refutal of Professor Cortoran'stheory; yet it opens no new doors to the past, and, on thewhole, rather adds to than dissipates the mystery.

"And who is Buckingham," I asked, "and why should he wish tokill me?"

"He would think that you had stolen me," she replied, "andas he wishes me for himself, he will kill any other whom hethinks desires me. He killed Wettin a few days ago. Mymother told me once that Wettin was my father. He was king.Now Buckingham is king."

Here, evidently, were a people slightly superior to those ofthe Isle of Wight. These must have at least the rudimentsof civilized government since they recognized one among themas ruler, with the title, king. Also, they retained theword father. The girl's pronunciation, while far fromidentical with ours, was much closer than the tortureddialect of the Eastenders of the Isle of Wight. The longerI talked with her the more hopeful I became of finding here,among her people, some records, or traditions, which mightassist in clearing up the historic enigma of the past twocenturies. I asked her if we were far from the city ofLondon, but she did not know what I meant. When I tried toexplain, describing mighty buildings of stone and brick,broad avenues, parks, palaces, and countless people, she butshook her head sadly.

"There is no such place near by," she said. "Only the Campof the Lions has places of stone where the beasts lair, butthere are no people in the Camp of the Lions. Who woulddare go there!" And she shuddered.

"The Camp of the Lions," I repeated. "And where is that,and what?"

"It is there," she said, pointing up the river toward thewest. "I have seen it from a great distance, but I havenever been there. We are much afraid of the lions, for thisis their country, and they are angry that man has come tolive here.

"Far away there," and she pointed toward the south-west, "isthe land of tigers, which is even worse than this, the landof the lions, for the tigers are more numerous than thelions and hungrier for human flesh. There were tigers herelong ago, but both the lions and the men set upon them anddrove them off."

"Where did these savage beasts come from?" I asked.

"Oh," she replied, "they have been here always. It is theircountry."

"Do they not kill and eat your people?" I asked.

"Often, when we meet them by accident, and we are too few toslay them, or when one goes too close to their camp. Butseldom do they hunt us, for they find what food they needamong the deer and wild cattle, and, too, we make themgifts, for are we not intruders in their country? Really welive upon good terms with them, though I should not care tomeet one were there not many spears in my party."

"I should like to visit this Camp of the Lions," I said.

"Oh, no, you must not!" cried the girl. "That would beterrible. They would eat you." For a moment, then, sheseemed lost in thought, but presently she turned upon mewith: "You must go now, for any minute Buckingham may comein search of me. Long since should they have learned that Iam gone from the camp--they watch over me very closely--andthey will set out after me. Go! I shall wait here untilthey come in search of me."

"No," I told her. "I'll not leave you alone in a landinfested by lions and other wild beasts. If you won't letme go as far as your camp with you, then I'll wait hereuntil they come in search of you."

"Please go!" she begged. "You have saved me, and I wouldsave you, but nothing will save you if Buckingham gets hishands on you. He is a bad man. He wishes to have me forhis woman so that he may be king. He would kill anyone whobefriended me, for fear that I might become another's."

"Didn't you say that Buckingham is already the king?" Iasked.

"He is. He took my mother for his woman after he had killedWettin. But my mother will die soon--she is very old--andthen the man to whom I belong will become king."

Finally, after much questioning, I got the thing through myhead. It appears that the line of descent is through thewomen. A man is merely head of his wife's family--that isall. If she chances to be the oldest female member of the"royal" house, he is king. Very naively the girl explainedthat there was seldom any doubt as to whom a child's motherwas.

This accounted for the girl's importance in the communityand for Buckingham's anxiety to claim her, though she toldme that she did not wish to become his woman, for he was abad man and would make a bad king. But he was powerful, andthere was no other man who dared dispute his wishes.

"Why not come with me," I suggested, "if you do not wish tobecome Buckingham's?"

"Where would you take me?" she asked.

Where, indeed! I had not thought of that. But before Icould reply to her question she shook her head and said,"No, I cannot leave my people. I must stay and do my best,even if Buckingham gets me, but you must go at once. Do notwait until it is too late. The lions have had no offeringfor a long time, and Buckingham would seize upon the firststranger as a gift to them."

I did not perfectly understand what she meant, and was aboutto ask her when a heavy body leaped upon me from behind, andgreat arms encircled my neck. I struggled to free myselfand turn upon my antagonist, but in another instant I wasoverwhelmed by a half dozen powerful, half-naked men, whilea score of others surrounded me, a couple of whom seized thegirl.

I fought as best I could for my liberty and for hers, butthe weight of numbers was too great, though I had thesatisfaction at least of giving them a good fight.

When they had overpowered me, and I stood, my hands boundbehind me, at the girl's side, she gazed commiseratingly atme.

"It is too bad that you did not do as I bid you," she said,"for now it has happened just as I feared--Buckingham hasyou."

"Which is Buckingham?" I asked.

"I am Buckingham," growled a burly, unwashed brute,swaggering truculently before me. "And who are you whowould have stolen my woman?"

The girl spoke up then and tried to explain that I had notstolen her; but on the contrary I had saved her from the menfrom the "Elephant Country" who were carrying her away.

Buckingham only sneered at her explanation, and a momentlater gave the command that started us all off toward thewest. We marched for a matter of an hour or so, coming atlast to a collection of rude huts, fashioned from branchesof trees covered with skins and grasses and sometimesplastered with mud. All about the camp they had erected awall of saplings pointed at the tops and fire hardened.

This palisade was a protection against both man and beasts,and within it dwelt upward of two thousand persons, theshelters being built very close together, and sometimespartially underground, like deep trenches, with the polesand hides above merely as protection from the sun and rain.

The older part of the camp consisted almost wholly oftrenches, as though this had been the original form ofdwellings which was slowly giving way to the drier andairier surface domiciles. In these trench habitations I sawa survival of the military trenches which formed so famous apart of the operation of the warring nations during thetwentieth century.

The women wore a single light deerskin about their hips, forit was summer, and quite warm. The men, too, were clothedin a single garment, usually the pelt of some beast of prey.The hair of both men and women was confined by a rawhidethong passing about the forehead and tied behind. In thisleathern band were stuck feathers, flowers, or the tails ofsmall mammals. All wore necklaces of the teeth or claws ofwild beasts, and there were numerous metal wristlets andanklets among them.

They wore, in fact, every indication of a most primitivepeople--a race which had not yet risen to the heights ofagriculture or even the possession of domestic animals.They were hunters--the lowest plane in the evolution of thehuman race of which science takes cognizance.

And yet as I looked at their well shaped heads, theirhandsome features, and their intelligent eyes, it wasdifficult to believe that I was not among my own. It wasonly when I took into consideration their mode of living,their scant apparel, the lack of every least luxury amongthem, that I was forced to admit that they were, in truth,but ignorant savages.

Buckingham had relieved me of my weapons, though he had notthe slightest idea of their purpose or uses, and when wereached the camp he exhibited both me and my arms with everyindication of pride in this great capture.

The inhabitants flocked around me, examining my clothing,and exclaiming in wonderment at each new discovery ofbutton, buckle, pocket, and flap. It seemed incredible thatsuch a thing could be, almost within a stone's throw of thespot where but a brief two centuries before had stood thegreatest city of the world.

They bound me to a small tree that grew in the middle of oneof their crooked streets, but the girl they released as soonas we had entered the enclosure. The people greeted herwith every mark of respect as she hastened to a large hutnear the center of the camp.

Presently she returned with a fine looking, white-hairedwoman, who proved to be her mother. The older woman carriedherself with a regal dignity that seemed quite remarkable ina place of such primitive squalor.

The people fell aside as she approached, making a wide wayfor her and her daughter. When they had come near andstopped before me the older woman addressed me.

"My daughter has told me," she said, "of the manner in whichyou rescued her from the men of the elephant country. IfWettin lived you would be well treated, but Buckingham hastaken me now, and is king. You can hope for nothing fromsuch a beast as Buckingham."

The fact that Buckingham stood within a pace of us and wasan interested listener appeared not to temper herexpressions in the slightest.

"Buckingham is a pig," she continued. "He is a coward. Hecame upon Wettin from behind and ran his spear through him.He will not be king for long. Some one will make a face athim, and he will run away and jump into the river."

The people began to titter and clap their hands. Buckinghambecame red in the face. It was evident that he was far frompopular.

"If he dared," went on the old lady, "he would kill me now,but he does not dare. He is too great a coward. If I couldhelp you I should gladly do so. But I am only queen--thevehicle that has helped carry down, unsullied, the royalblood from the days when Grabritin was a mighty country."

The old queen's words had a noticeable effect upon the mobof curious savages which surrounded me. The moment theydiscovered that the old queen was friendly to me and that Ihad rescued her daughter they commenced to accord me a morefriendly interest, and I heard many words spoken in mybehalf, and demands were made that I not be harmed.

But now Buckingham interfered. He had no intention of beingrobbed of his prey. Blustering and storming, he ordered thepeople back to their huts, at the same time directing two ofhis warriors to confine me in a dugout in one of thetrenches close to his own shelter.

Here they threw me upon the ground, binding my anklestogether and trussing them up to my wrists behind. Therethey left me, lying upon my stomach--a most uncomfortableand strained position, to which was added the pain where thecords cut into my flesh.

Just a few days ago my mind had been filled with theanticipation of the friendly welcome I should find among thecultured Englishmen of London. Today I should be sitting inthe place of honor at the banquet board of one of London'smost exclusive clubs, feted and lionized.

The actuality! Here I lay, bound hand and foot, doubtlessalmost upon the very site of a part of ancient London, yetall about me was a primeval wilderness, and I was a captiveof half-naked wild men.

I wondered what had become of Delcarte and Taylor andSnider. Would they search for me? They could never findme, I feared, yet if they did, what could they accomplishagainst this horde of savage warriors?

Would that I could warn them. I thought of the girl--doubtless she could get word to them, but how was I tocommunicate with her? Would she come to see me before I waskilled? It seemed incredible that she should not make someslight attempt to befriend me; yet, as I recalled, she hadmade no effort to speak with me after we had reached thevillage. She had hastened to her mother the moment she hadbeen liberated. Though she had returned with the old queen,she had not spoken to me, even then. I began to have mydoubts.

Finally, I came to the conclusion that I was absolutelyfriendless except for the old queen. For some unaccountablereason my rage against the girl for her ingratitude rose tocolossal proportions.

For a long time I waited for some one to come to my prisonwhom I might ask to bear word to the queen, but I seemed tohave been forgotten. The strained position in which I laybecame unbearable. I wriggled and twisted until I managedto turn myself partially upon my side, where I lay halffacing the entrance to the dugout.

Presently my attention was attracted by the shadow ofsomething moving in the trench without, and a moment laterthe figure of a child appeared, creeping upon all fours, as,wide-eyed, and prompted by childish curiosity, a little girlcrawled to the entrance of my hut and peered cautiously andfearfully in.

I did not speak at first for fear of frightening the littleone away. But when I was satisfied that her eyes had becomesufficiently accustomed to the subdued light of theinterior, I smiled.

Instantly the expression of fear faded from her eyes to bereplaced with an answering smile.

"Who are you, little girl?" I asked.

"My name is Mary," she replied. "I am Victory's sister."

"And who is Victory?"

"You do not know who Victory is?" she asked, inastonishment.

I shook my head in negation.

"You saved her from the elephant country people, and yet yousay you do not know her!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, so she is Victory, and you are her sister! I have notheard her name before. That is why I did not know whom youmeant," I explained. Here was just the messenger for me.Fate was becoming more kind.

"Will you do something for me, Mary?" I asked.

"If I can."

"Go to your mother, the queen, and ask her to come to me," Isaid. "I have a favor to ask."

She said that she would, and with a parting smile she leftme.

For what seemed many hours I awaited her return, chafingwith impatience. The afternoon wore on and night came, andyet no one came near me. My captors brought me neither foodnor water. I was suffering considerable pain where therawhide thongs cut into my swollen flesh. I thought thatthey had either forgotten me, or that it was their intentionto leave me here to die of starvation.

Once I heard a great uproar in the village. Men wereshouting--women were screaming and moaning. After a timethis subsided, and again there was a long interval ofsilence.

Half the night must have been spent when I heard a sound inthe trench near the hut. It resembled muffled sobs.Presently a figure appeared, silhouetted against the lesserdarkness beyond the doorway. It crept inside the hut.

"Are you here?" whispered a childlike voice.

It was Mary! She had returned. The thongs no longer hurtme. The pangs of hunger and thirst disappeared. I realizedthat it had been loneliness from which I suffered most.

"Mary!" I exclaimed. "You are a good girl. You have comeback, after all. I had commenced to think that you wouldnot. Did you give my message to the queen? Will she come?Where is she?"

The child's sobs increased, and she flung herself upon thedirt floor of the hut, apparently overcome by grief.

"What is it?" I asked. "Why do you cry?"

"The queen, my mother, will not come to you," she said,between sobs. "She is dead. Buckingham has killed her.Now he will take Victory, for Victory is queen. He kept usfastened up in our shelter, for fear that Victory wouldescape him, but I dug a hole beneath the back wall and gotout. I came to you, because you saved Victory once before,and I thought that you might save her again, and me, also.Tell me that you will."

"I am bound and helpless, Mary," I replied. "Otherwise Iwould do what I could to save you and your sister."

"I will set you free!" cried the girl, creeping up to myside. "I will set you free, and then you may come and slayBuckingham."

"Gladly!" I assented.

"We must hurry," she went on, as she fumbled with the hardknots in the stiffened rawhide, "for Buckingham will beafter you soon. He must make an offering to the lions atdawn before he can take Victory. The taking of a queenrequires a human offering!"

"And I am to be the offering?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, tugging at a knot. "Buckingham has beenwanting a sacrifice ever since he killed Wettin, that hemight slay my mother and take Victory."

The thought was horrible, not solely because of the hideousfate to which I was condemned, but from the contemplation itengendered of the sad decadence of a once enlightened race.To these depths of ignorance, brutality, and superstitionhad the vaunted civilization of twentieth century Englandbeen plunged, and by what? War! I felt the structure ofour time-honored militaristic arguments crumbling about me.

Mary labored with the thongs that confined me. They provedrefractory--defying her tender, childish fingers. Sheassured me, however, that she would release me, if "they"did not come too soon.

But, alas, they came. We heard them coming down the trench,and I bade Mary hide in a corner, lest she be discovered andpunished. There was naught else she could do, and so shecrawled away into the Stygian blackness behind me.

Presently two warriors entered. The leader exhibited aunique method of discovering my whereabouts in the darkness.He advanced slowly, kicking out viciously before him.Finally he kicked me in the face. Then he knew where I was.

A moment later I had been jerked roughly to my feet. One ofthe fellows stopped and severed the bonds that held myankles. I could scarcely stand alone. The two pulled andhauled me through the low doorway and along the trench. Aparty of forty or fifty warriors were awaiting us at thebrink of the excavation some hundred yards from the hut.

Hands were lowered to us, and we were dragged to thesurface. Then commenced a long march. We stumbled throughthe underbrush wet with dew, our way lighted by a score oftorchbearers who surrounded us. But the torches were not tolight the way--that was but incidental. They were carriedto keep off the huge Carnivora that moaned and coughed androared about us.

The noises were hideous. The whole country seemed alivewith lions. Yellow-green eyes blazed wickedly at us fromout the surrounding darkness. My escort carried long, heavyspears. These they kept ever pointed toward the beast ofprey, and I learned from snatches of the conversation Ioverheard that occasionally there might be a lion who wouldbrave even the terrors of fire to leap in upon human prey.It was for such that the spears were always couched.

But nothing of the sort occurred during this hideous deathmarch, and with the first pale heralding of dawn we reachedour goal--an open place in the midst of a tangled wildwood.Here rose in crumbling grandeur the first evidences I hadseen of the ancient civilization which once had graced fairAlbion--a single, time-worn arch of masonry.

"The entrance to the Camp of the Lions!" murmured one of theparty in a voice husky with awe.

Here the party knelt, while Buckingham recited a weird,prayer-like chant. It was rather long, and I recall only aportion of it, which ran, if my memory serves me, somewhatas follows:

Lord of Grabritin, we Fall on our knees tothee, This gift to bring. Greatest of kingsare thou! To thee we humbly bow! Peace toour camp allow. God save thee, king!

Then the party rose, and dragging me to the crumbling arch,made me fast to a huge, corroded, copper ring which wasdangling from an eyebolt imbedded in the masonry.

None of them, not even Buckingham, seemed to feel anypersonal animosity toward me. They were naturally rough andbrutal, as primitive men are supposed to have been since thedawn of humanity, but they did not go out of their way tomaltreat me.

With the coming of dawn the number of lions about us seemedto have greatly diminished--at least they made less noise--and as Buckingham and his party disappeared into the woods,leaving me alone to my terrible fate, I could hear thegrumblings and growlings of the beasts diminishing with thesound of the chant, which the party still continued. Itappeared that the lions had failed to note that I had beenleft for their breakfast, and had followed off after theirworshippers instead.

But I knew the reprieve would be but for a short time, andthough I had no wish to die, I must confess that I ratherwished the ordeal over and the peace of oblivion upon me.

The voices of the men and the lions receded in the distance,until finally quiet reigned about me, broken only by thesweet voices of birds and the sighing of the summer wind inthe trees.

It seemed impossible to believe that in this peacefulwoodland setting the frightful thing was to occur which mustcome with the passing of the next lion who chanced withinsight or smell of the crumbling arch.

I strove to tear myself loose from my bonds, but succeededonly in tightening them about my arms. Then I remainedpassive for a long time, letting the scenes of my lifetimepass in review before my mind's eye.

I tried to imagine the astonishment, incredulity, and horrorwith which my family and friends would be overwhelmed if,for an instant, space could be annihilated and they couldsee me at the gates of London.

The gates of London! Where was the multitude hurrying tothe marts of trade after a night of pleasure or rest? Wherewas the clang of tramcar gongs, the screech of motor horns,the vast murmur of a dense throng?

Where were they? And as I asked the question a lone, gauntlion strode from the tangled jungle upon the far side of theclearing. Majestically and noiselessly upon his padded feetthe king of beasts moved slowly toward the gates of Londonand toward me.

Was I afraid? I fear that I was almost afraid. I know thatI thought that fear was coming to me, and so I straightenedup and squared my shoulders and looked the lion straight inthe eyes--and waited.

It is not a nice way to die--alone, with one's hands fastbound, beneath the fangs and talons of a beast of prey. No,it is not a nice way to die, not a pretty way.

The lion was halfway across the clearing when I heard aslight sound behind me. The great cat stopped in histracks. He lashed his tail against his sides now, insteadof simply twitching its tip, and his low moan became athunderous roar.

As I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of the thing that hadaroused the fury of the beast before me, it sprang throughthe arched gateway and was at my side--with parted lips andheaving bosom and disheveled hair--a bronzed and lovelyvision to eyes that had never harbored hope of rescue.

It was Victory, and in her arms she clutched my rifle andrevolver. A long knife was in the doeskin belt thatsupported the doeskin skirt tightly about her lithe limbs.She dropped my weapons at my feet, and, snatching the knifefrom its resting place, severed the bonds that held me. Iwas free, and the lion was preparing to charge.

"Run!" I cried to the girl, as I bent and seized my rifle.But she only stood there at my side, her bared blade readyin her hand.

The lion was bounding toward us now in prodigious leaps. Iraised the rifle and fired. It was a lucky shot, for I hadno time to aim carefully, and when the beast crumpled androlled, lifeless, to the ground, I went upon my knees andgave thanks to the God of my ancestors.

And, still upon my knees, I turned, and taking the girl'shand in mine, I kissed it. She smiled at that, and laid herother hand upon my head.

"You have strange customs in your country," she said.

I could not but smile at that when I thought how strange itwould seem to my countrymen could they but see me kneelingthere on the site of London, kissing the hand of England'squeen.

"And now," I said, as I rose, "you must return to the safetyof your camp. I will go with you until you are near enoughto continue alone in safety. Then I shall try to return tomy comrades."

"I will not return to the camp," she replied.

"But what shall you do?" I asked.

"I do not know. Only I shall never go back while Buckinghamlives. I should rather die than go back to him. Mary cameto me, after they had taken you from the camp, and told me.I found your strange weapons and followed with them. Ittook me a little longer, for often I had to hide in thetrees that the lions might not get me, but I came in time,and now you are free to go back to your friends."

"And leave you here?" I exclaimed.

She nodded, but I could see through all her brave front thatshe was frightened at the thought. I could not leave her,of course, but what in the world I was to do, cumbered withthe care of a young woman, and a queen at that, I was at aloss to know. I pointed out that phase of it to her, butshe only shrugged her shapely shoulders and pointed to herknife.

It was evident that she felt entirely competent to protectherself.

As we stood there we heard the sound of voices. They werecoming from the forest through which we had passed when wehad come from camp.

"They are searching for me," said the girl. "Where shall wehide?"

I didn't relish hiding. But when I thought of theinnumerable dangers which surrounded us and thecomparatively small amount of ammunition that I had with me,I hesitated to provoke a battle with Buckingham and hiswarriors when, by flight, I could avoid them and preserve mycartridges against emergencies which could not be escaped.

"Would they follow us there?" I asked, pointing through thearchway into the Camp of the Lions.

"Never," she replied, "for, in the first place, they wouldknow that we would not dare go there, and in the second theythemselves would not dare."

"Then we shall take refuge in the Camp of the Lions," Isaid.

She shuddered and drew closer to me.

"You dare?" she asked.

"Why not?" I returned. "We shall be safe from Buckingham,and you have seen, for the second time in two days, thatlions are harmless before my weapons. Then, too, I can findmy friends easiest in this direction, for the River Thamesruns through this place you call the Camp of the Lions, andit is farther down the Thames that my friends are awaitingme. Do you not dare come with me?"

"I dare follow wherever you lead," she answered simply.

And so I turned and passed beneath the great arch into thecity of London.