Dinotopia - Dinotopia Lost

  She watched while her offspring took turns trying to clear a huge fallen tree. Though no more than six feet high, it still took each of them several tries to make the jump. Arimat did it first, and Tryll next. Keelk, with great dignity, lowered her head and walked under the barrier.

  Clever, my Keelk, Shremaza thought. Someday you will go far. Fine youths all, they were maturing well. A little headstrong, but that was normal for their age.

  It was so peaceful in the forest, so beautiful, that when the first scream was heard, she didn’t react.

  “That’s Tryll!” her mate chirped. Simultaneously they broke into a run to catch up with the children, who had playfully raced on ahead.

  In an instant they had caught up with their offspring, but the sight that greeted them was so unexpected and made so little sense that both adults simply stood and stared, unable to believe what they were seeing.

  Hisaulk’s first thought had been that the children might have encountered a rogue carnosaur. It was rare for one to make its way across the Backbone Mountains, but not unprecedented. Juvenile meat-eaters especially were prone to wander, before maturity and satiation reduced such desires to infantile afterthoughts. Still, the masters of the Rainy Basin were nothing if not unpredictable. Perhaps the unusual weather had set some to roaming.

  Yet it was not some ambling allosaur that threatened their offspring. At first glance it appeared to be a wholly natural phenomenon. Peering carefully over the edge of the steepsided pit, Hisaulk saw Tryll and Arimat standing in the bottom and looking up. They appeared dazed but unhurt. He turned to Keelk.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, Father. We were running and playing, and then suddenly the ground seemed to give way beneath Arimat and Tryll. I barely escaped falling in myself.”

  “The ground gave way?” Dipping her snout to the earth, a baffled Shremaza began to sniff of the palm fronds and reeds that covered the approach to the pit. Mixed in with these strong plant odors was another smell. The ocean . .. and something else.

  Hisaulk considered the problem. The hole was too deep for the youngsters to escape from by jumping. Without a running start, even he would have had trouble making the leap to safety. Struthiomimuses had strong forearms and, though they did not possess an opposable thumb like humans, they could still grip large objects like branches. He began to make plans. They would have to find some strong vines. . . .

  A startled Shremaza whistled loudly, interrupting his thoughts. “Someone has dug this! See how even and straight the sides are.” She scuffed the edge of the pit. “This is not the work of some grubbing ankylosaur.”

  “There would be no reason for one of them to dig so deep anyway. One of the horned ones?”

  “A ceratopsian?” she responded. “For what purpose? And right in the middle of the old trail.” She kicked aside a small pile of palm fronds. “These have not fallen; they have been cut. I thought I smelled human on them. The odor’s very strong, but strange.”

  Hisaulk leaned over the gap. “It’s not lined, so it can’t be a storage pit. There’s no reason to put a latrine way out here. I don’t understand.” Humans were capable of many odd things and were full of interesting surprises, but they were as conservative of energy as any dinosaur. They wouldn’t waste time excavating such a hole without a good reason.

  “I know,” volunteered Keelk. “It’s a grave. You know how some humans still choose to waste their dead by burying them.” “A good guess, daughter.” Shremaza bent again to sniff the disturbed fronds and reeds. “Except that I have never heard of a human grave so large. You could bury a dozen of them in it.” “Or one Struthiomimus family.” A chill raced down Hisaulk’s spine.

  Much later he saw that it was wrong to blame himself, as he did for some time, for what happened next. Neither he nor Shremaza had ever seen or heard of a live trap. Together with Keelk they were standing at the edge of the pit when a human shout sounded sharply from overhead. Then the forest seemed to collapse on top of them.

  Heavy vines entangled arms and legs, weighed down neck and tail. Only they weren’t vines, Hisaulk soon saw. They were ropes fashioned of some tough plant fiber that had been woven into strong nets. They stank of brine and salt.

  Humans came rushing from all directions: from behind and from the other side of the pit. Several dropped from the trees like coconuts. Their combined weight on the sides of the nets kept Hisaulk pinned down.

  The three struthies flailed and struggled, but while their hind legs were powerful enough to disembowel with a single kick, they were too entangled in netting to strike out. Besides, the family was too shocked by what was happening to offer any kind of coherent resistance. Had these humans suddenly sprouted wings and carried their captives off into the sky, the family could not have been more stunned.

  Hisaulk tried to kick, but he was down on his side and unable to get any purchase. The tough cord proved impervious to his beak. For the first time in his life he lamented his lack of teeth. Down in the pit, Tryll and Arimat were wailing their distress.

  That would do no good, Hisaulk knew. They had come to this part of the Northern Plains for its peace and isolation and there was no one around to hear their cries. He never expected to be sorry for having chosen so well.

  Unable to turn his head, he called to his mate.

  “Fm all right! ” Shremaza replied from behind him. “What is this? What’s happening to us?”

  “I don’t know.” He tried to rise but found himself completely entangled. Human hands were on his pinioned legs, and he felt thick ropes being wrapped around his ankles.

  A sunburned human face was staring down at him, eyes wide, mouth turned up in a broad grin. “What is this?” he chirped desperately at the man. “Why are you doing this to my family?” He didn’t expect the human to understand. Only a professional translator could turn Struthine into Human. But he had to try something.

  “What’s going on here? What’s the matter with you people? If this is some sort of a game, I don’t find it amusing. I intend to protest to the first adjudicator we see!”

  Blackstrap ambled out from between two young gingkoes to gaze down at the prize. “Listen to them chatter. What a racket! Like giant parrots they sound, or macaws.”

  “I expect they’ll quiet down soon enough.” Breathing heavily, an excited Smiggens was helping to roll up the edges of the nets, further imprisoning the captives. “I know seamen who favor the presence of a parrot on their shoulder. Why not try one of these, Captain?”

  “Aye, now, wouldn’t that turn heads in every tavern from Singapore to Liverpool?” Blackstrap roared with laughter. Elated at the success of their enterprise, a number of the men joined in.

  This reaction only increased the struthies’ confusion and puzzlement. “Why are they laughing?” wondered Shremaza. “Surely they can’t find our situation amusing!”

  “I don’t know. Look at their clothing, Shremaza. Listen to their speech. I believe it is that component of Human called English. They can’t be from here.”

  “Dolphinbacks?” An entrapped Keelk peered out from beneath another portion of the net.

  “They don’t act as if they’ve shipwrecked,” Hisaulk replied. “See, their clothing is intact, and they don’t look exhausted and hungry like the usual dolphinback. Something odd is going on here.”

  “Why don’t they respond?” There was deep anxiety in Shremaza’s voice, and Hisaulk wished for a way to comfort her. She was worried, he knew, not for herself but for the children. “I wouldn’t expect any human to understand Struthine, but even a dolphinback should be able to recognize an intelligent gesture.” Hisaulk felt her shudder next to him. “See how they look at us. I’ve seen humans look at birds in that manner.”

  That’s when the second stunning realization struck Hisaulk with all its awful, impossible force.

  “They don’t know dinosaurs. From the way they act, I believe they consider us to be nothing more than low animals, as unintelligent as fish!
”

  “What are they going to do with us?” The first hint of fear had crept into Shremaza’s voice. “Surely they can’t mean us physical harm?”

  “I don’t know and can’t imagine.” Hisaulk tried one more time to kick and found that his ankles had been bound to a length of log that stretched between them, greatly reducing their range of motion. Thus hobbled, he would still be able to stand and walk, but only in halting, short steps. Kicking was out of the question. The log was too heavy.

  “These humans are ignorant and uneducated. They are from outside. Who knows what they are capable of? We must be prepared for anything.”

  “Stop that!” Shremaza was calling to the humans who had surrounded the pit. They ignored her utterly as they flung smaller nets to entrap and haul up Tryll and Arimat. The youngsters were squealing and protesting mightily, to no avail.

  “Calm yourselves!” Hisaulk tried to make himself heard. “Panic will not help. These strange humans understand nothing. Keelk, can you see what’s happening?”

  From somewhere behind him, his daughter replied, “They have Arimat and Tryll out. Now they are hobbling their arms and legs as they have hobbled ours. I think ... it looks like the humans are being careful not to hurt them.”

  Shremaza exhaled a long whistle of relief. “Perhaps they are not completely uncivilized. Perhaps they are only uneducated.”

  She would have been less confident had she known that Blackstrap’s crew was taking care not to harm their captives lest injuries reduce their market value. Damaged goods would bring less gold.

  “There, that’s fine work, men.” Smiggens stood next to Blackstrap and they watched as the nets were carefully removed.

  With difficulty the five captive creatures struggled to their feet. Their arms were roped together at elbows and wrists, and log hobbles were secured between each pair of powerful ankles and thighs. They could walk, but little else. Mkuse had suggested roping their jaws shut, for while they had no teeth, they were undoubtedly capable of visiting a nasty peck on the unwary.

  Smiggens vetoed this notion, pointing out that they knew nothing of their captives’ breathing requirements. Better to risk an occasional peck than to chance suffocating that which they had so laboriously and successfully worked to acquire. Blackstrap concurred.

  “Mind those feet, Mr. Watford,” Smiggens admonished a seaman who was checking the hobble on one of the smaller captives. “They may be bound, but they can still kick out.”

  “Yes, be careful.” Mkuse stepped back from the larger creature he had been working with. “These two are as big and strong as any ostrich.” The sailor thus warned nodded while retreating warily.

  Even if their restraints had been more flexible, neither the adult nor adolescent Struthiomimuses were inclined to offer

  resistance. They had not yet recovered from the shock of the circumstances in which they found themselves. The thought of actually fighting humans, any humans, was alien to them.

  “What do you imagine their purpose is in binding us like this?” Shremaza shuffled her legs experimentally. She did not fall, but neither could she run.

  “Yes,” added Arimat dazedly. “What do they want from us?”

  “I can’t imagine.” Hisaulk studied their captors uncertainly. “These are not dolphinbacks, but humans who have come to Dinotopia by another means. As for what has been done to us, the old human histories of the outside world speak of such things. It seems we have been made prisoners.” “Prisoners?” Tryll chirped querulously. “You mean, they are playing the escape game?”

  “Something like that, only this is much more serious. I don’t believe that these humans are playing. I think they consider what they’ve done a part of real life, however immature it seems to us. Nor are they finished. I don’t think they mean to let us go anytime soon.”

  “But they must!” Arimat protested. “I will miss school, and training.”

  Shremaza explained gently, “From the look of them, dear, I don’t think that would matter to them, even if they could understand us.” She shifted her attention to her eldest. “Keelk, you’ve said very little. Are you all right?”

  Her daughter’s head bobbed from side to side by way of reply. “I’m unharmed. I was just trying to puzzle out their speech. It’s easier when humans only speak one language.” “They are not the words used by the humans who live among us.” Hisaulk’s attention was fixed on the two who appeared to be in charge. They reacted to his imploring gaze with infuriating indifference.

  “I know.” Keelk strained to make sense of the convoluted babble. “I think I can understand maybe a word or two.” “Keep trying,” her father urged her. “If we could get some idea of what they intend, it would be very useful.”

  “I’ll try,” she replied dubiously.

  Astonishingly, the humans seemed pleased with what they had done. They were in evident good spirits and moved about with every indication of contentment and assurance. To look at them one would have thought they’d just been declared the winners of the grand marathon at Sauropolis.

  For a wild moment Hisaulk wondered if they were mad, then decided they were too well organized to qualify as insane.

  “What shall we do, Father?” Tryll asked plaintively. Hisaulk saw that his family was looking to him for guidance.

  “Nothing ... for now. Listen and observe, but do nothing to excite them. Humans who are capable of such outrageous behavior cannot be counted upon to act rationally. We must do our best not to upset them, lest they react in an even more unpredictable manner. Meanwhile, conserve your strength ... and wait.”

  He kept whistling and chirping at the largest human, the one with the distinctive facial hair. This individual was clearly in charge. The man ignored every one of Hisaulk’s entreaties, and eventually the male Struthiomimus gave up trying. The dinosaurs would have to find another way of making contact.

  “See?” Smiggens observed. “I told you they’d calm down.”

  Blackstrap belched. “Maybe they’re smart enough to be trained. Never saw a beast yet that couldn’t be made docile by the withholding of food. I don’t think we’ll be having any difficulty with this lot.”

  Ropes were passed around the necks of the now quiescent creatures. Their captives appeared to accept this latest imposition with resigned indifference. With a man holding fast to each makeshift rein, it was hoped that the beasts could be led instead of driven, a process that would be easier on all concerned.

  Something was making Smiggens uneasy. Turning, he saw that the smallest of the creatures was staring unblinkingly in his direction. Its eyes were wide and limpid, almost like those of a child. Irritated at himself, he looked away.

  They are only beasts, he reminded himself. Nothing more.

  “How smart do you think these featherless bird-things be, Mr. Smiggens?”

  “Can’t say, Captain. More so than the ostriches the African speaks of, surely. See how they follow us with their eyes? Perhaps one or two may prove as intelligent as a dog.”

  “Dog, eh? We’ll have time enough on board to tease a trick or two out of them. Maybe we won’t sell ’em all. Keep the smallest for a pet, eh?” He nudged his first mate in the ribs, put a finger to the side of his nose, and blew prodigiously to one side. Smiggens turned delicately away.

  The second largest of the captives emitted a long series of intricate whistles, chirps, clucks, and clickings. Smiggens applauded this concert. Yet, still feeling uncomfortable without knowing why, he again turned away.

  “They seem docile enough already. One would almost think someone else had seen to the taming of them.”

  “So long as they give no trouble.” Blackstrap snorted. “If they prove difficult, we’ll shoot one as an example to the others. That’ll quiet them down! ” Hailing several of the men, he lumbered off to hurry them into bundling the nets. He wanted them ready in case the opportunity arose to capture a few more of the remarkable creatures.

  Smiggens was left to wonder why the quasi-avi
an stares were unnerving him so much. It made him angry and he deliberately moved off in search of other things to do.

  Shremaza silently observed the inexplicable doings of their captors.

  “This isn’t a game, is it, Mother?” Arimat looked up at her out of anxious eyes.

  “No, dear, it isn’t. I fear it’s very serious business.”

  “These ropes chafe,” Tryll protested.

  “Try to ignore them, darling. They will loosen when we start walking. I’m sure these humans mean to take us somewhere, or they would not have allowed us to walk about at all.”

  “What’s going to happen to us?”

  “Perhaps they will let us go after a while.” She didn’t believe her own words, but she had to tell the children something, and it was better to be positive.

  Tryll considered. “You don’t think these humans mean to eat us, do you?”

  “What are you saying?” Arimat gawked at his sister. “Humans aren’t carnosaurs!”

  “I wouldn’t put it past this lot.” They both turned to Keelk, who was studying the activities of their captors closely.

  “Humans will eat almost anything.”

  Arimat made a face. “So will struthies, but that doesn’t mean I’d want to eat a human.”

  “Why not?” Keelk challenged him. “Meat is meat.”

  “But these are humans. Humans are friends.”

  “Not these humans,” Hisaulk murmured.

  With her arms bound, Tryll had to use her head and neck to gesture. “That one,” she said, nodding in Blackstrap’s direction, “has something of the manner of a carnosaur.” “Keep your wits about you, as you have been taught.” Hisaulk considered his restraints. “It seems that for now, at least, they mean only to keep us tied. We must be ready for any chance to flee. The Treetown Council must be notified.” “What if we run into an evacuating farm family?” Shremaza wondered aloud. “Do you think these crazy humans will try to make captives of them also?”

  Arimat sniffed. “I’d like to see them try to tie up a Styra-cosaurus.”