Dracula of the Apes 3, стр. 32

However, “recognizing” them did not equate to “comprehending.”

Luckily the journal’s author had used numerals when adding dates to each entry which gave Van Resen something to decode—as little as that was.

The yurt’s former occupant had begun his journal in 1893, and while that did not determine how he had ended up in the African jungle, it gave Van Resen a clue as to when he arrived. The numerous dates found upon the published materials in the firewood box certainly suggested the date of arrival as plausible.

While it was the same hand that wrote throughout, something changed at what must have been the end of 1893—the end of the year because the date “1894” appeared on entries close after these “changes” began to occur.

This happened just prior to the addition of loose pages that bore other entries and had been folded into the greater journal. After 1894 began, the handwriting grew consistently worse. The letters became distorted, drifting up and down as the scrawl moved across the page.

Some stress had affected the writer more than it had in prior entries, as though worry or hardship had grown as one year ended and 1894 began. This indicated a change in surroundings, tools and comforts, as though he no longer had a desk to write upon, ample light, leisure or security with which to perform the task of keeping the journal.

Looking blindly around in the dark, Van Resen knew very well the impact those elements could have upon one’s comfort.

So the scientist suspected November or December 1893 or early 1894 as the date for the man’s arrival in Africa. It was unlikely that he would have taken up his journal before having built himself some form of shelter.

Given the proper resources and time, the scientist was certain that he could decipher the language that filled the pages, though he hoped to continue that investigation far from the African jungle.

If he and the castaways could survive long enough to escape. He knew it was just a matter of time before some violent interaction with local beasts or people would challenge them with potentially fatal results.

What shape those challenges might take was hinted at by Lilly’s sudden illness.

The girl had fainted just before bed, and had only been restored after being made to drink a large quantity of the fresh water that remained in the barrel.

It was obvious that Lilly was terribly dehydrated, and thinking back on the day, Van Resen connected that to the girl’s constant distraction.

When she finally came around, Lilly said she had consumed tea with meals but could not recollect drinking any water at all.

When he conferred about this with her governess, Miss James confirmed that she had only seen her ward drink tea that day. That suggested to Van Resen that the girl was suffering from dehydration and not from any parasitic infestation.

The other castaways had drunk the fresh water and been unaffected so the supply was clean. This he reasoned because the boiled water in Lilly’s tea should have killed any parasites the fluid might have contained.

Regardless, he realized they needed to take greater caution and would boil all water from that point forward. Especially since much would be needed.

“We must be careful, Miss James. Tropical heat is a serious threat,” Van Resen had said, laying a cool cloth over Lilly’s pale brow. “We must be certain to drink much to combat dehydration. We are all threatened by it.”

Van Resen had briefly blamed himself for warning the others to be cautious with their supply of drinking water until they’d found a local source. In truth, this was why their later discovery of the spring had been so important.

But by that time, the others had been using the water sparingly and under that tropical sun, they must have been dehydrating rapidly. The scientist had vowed to correct this oversight the following morning, and would demand that each member of their group be mindful of their water consumption to ward off an illness similar to Lilly’s.

With plentiful fresh water now at hand, they no longer needed to worry about conservation.

Van Resen felt a pang thinking of the poor girl. Like any teenager, Lilly had great reserves of youthful energy that had masked her growing thirst—the same “youth” that had been blamed for her confusion and distraction.

Regardless, it had seemed that the crisis had been averted, and the “illness” easily treatable with fresh water.

But it was not until later that the scientist discovered it was something else entirely.

Not long after the girl had finally succumbed to exhaustion and slept, Miss James called the scientist in a panic...

...to see Lilly upon her pallet on the floor, her breathing steady with some color returning to her face. She had taken up one of the cured skins they’d found in the yurt and held it in her arms like a doll, stroking its black fur as she slept.

“I removed the scarf to make her comfortable,” Miss James reported, shaking her head slowly. She held her lamp low over the girl’s exposed shoulders, and Van Resen moved in close to look at an inflamed patch of skin on the right side of her neck. He set his fingers against the soft flesh opposite the wound and was startled by the rate of her pulse.

It was racing. In the poor light, he saw a pair of tiny holes center to the purplish irritation—holes that singly resembled the wound a large hornet made with its stinger. Though he had never seen two in such close proximity.

“Could she have been stung twice?” her governess wondered, raising her voice slightly to be heard over Mrs. Quarries’ loud snore.

“Unlikely, but possible. She may have lost some small amount of blood from the bite also, but that cannot explain her greater anemia and dehydration. A large enough quantity of blood to cause her illness would have been evident on her bedding,” Van Resen concluded. “I’m also