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would direct me to the cliffs; perhaps they would accompany me and take us
back with them to their abodes--to the abodes of men and women like ourselves.
My hopes and my imagination ran riot in the few yards I had to cover to reach
that lonely grave and stoop that I might read the rude characters scratched upon
the simple headstone. This is what I read:
HERE LIES JOHN TIPPET ENGLISHMAN KILLED BY TYRANNOSAURUS 10
SEPT., A.D. 1916 R. I. P.
Tippet! It seemed incredible. Tippet lying here in this gloomy wood! Tippet dead!
He had been a good man, but the personal loss was not what affected me. It was
the fact that this silent grave gave evidence that Bradley had come this far upon
his expedition and that he too probably was lost, for it was not our intention that
he should be long gone. If I had stumbled upon the grave of one of the party, was
it not within reason to believe that the bones of the others lay scattered
somewhere near?
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