more and then resumed his trek into this valley which lay in the heart: of .
Half an hour later the Phantom stopped once again to call. "Doctor Love! Halo, Doctor Love!"
Still no one answered his hail.
The masked man was frowning, studying the foliage through which he had been moving. He went over to a large stalk which rose up to a height of ten feet. "This is very familiar-looking, but I can't
29
quite place it..."
Near the base of the stalk lay an enormous splash of white, the size of an unfurled pennant. Kneeling, the Phantom touched it. Hey, it's a flower petal, a gigantic flower petal, he thought. Snapping his fingers, he said aloud, "And this thing here is a wild flower- but a wild flower ten feet tall."
He stood, scanning the surrounding area. "There- that's an orchid plant, with orchids the size of a man or bigger. And those ferns over there must reach to a height of thirty feet!"
The Phantom heard something in the brush. He turned. "Look at that fellow," he said.
Making his way along the mossy ground, carrying a twig the size of a baseball bat, was an ant. This ant was as large as a house cat. Seeing his three-section body, his waving antennae, his half-dozen legs so clearly made you feel as though you were studying him under a powerful microscope.
But this is no optical illusion, the Phantom thought as he blinked and shook his head. This is real.
What kind of place is this?
The leaves of the giant flower rustled.
Looking up, the Phantom exclaimed, "Whew!"
Flapping above him was a beautiful yellow-and-purple butterfly. Its wingspread was a full twelve feet.
I feel as though, thought the Phantom, I were Jack in that beanstalk fairy tale. This is like some giant's hothouse.
He watched the enormous butterfly flap up to lose itself in the high mist.
The Phantom continued to explore the volcanic valley. Everything he encountered was a giant version of something in the world outside . Plants which were tiny in the Deep Woods stretched up tall as trees here. Weeds grew higher than men, with seedpods the size of ripe pumpkins. The insects were of animal size. Red and black ants roamed the valley, looking like packs of dogs in size.
"I wonder if Doctor Love expected any of this," said the Phantom.
Up ahead of him he saw a great green grasshopper, with one of its legs resting on something black.
When the big insect sensed him its membranous wings opened and it gave a flying hop up and away, looking like a large model airplane on the loose.
The Phantom picked up the black object. It was a notebook, with a pebbled leather cover. Each page was filled with notations in neat, tiny printing. This must be Doctor Love's, concluded the Phantom, tucking the book into his belt.
Off among the foliage to his right, he sensed a large dark shape huddling. The Phantom planted his booted feet wide, turned with ready spear.
It was the helicopter.
The ship looked like a broken toy among the giant plants and flowers.
30
"Doctor Love," called the Phantom. "Doctor Love, are you here?"
No response came.
The copter's rotor blades were bent like the fingers of an old man's hand. The flying machine was tilted far to one side.
Slowly, the Phantom worked his way through the tangle of overgrown plant life.
He took a deep breath and held it when he came near the cockpit. Exhaling, he said, "No one inside at all."
The cracked cabin glass was zigzagged with fine lines. His face pressed to it, the Phantom studied the inside of the crashed helicopter. Radio's smashed, he noted to himself. Which explains why she couldn't contact Colonel Weeks to ask for help.
He stepped back from the downed ship and began studying the ground all around the crash site.
"What's this?" he asked aloud. He bent, touching the ground with his fingertips: A splotch of red stained the moss. "Blood. So at least one of the three is hurt."
The Phantom found a second scarlet dot, then a third. "Traces of footprints, too.
Half an hour later the Phantom stopped once again to call. "Doctor Love! Halo, Doctor Love!"
Still no one answered his hail.
The masked man was frowning, studying the foliage through which he had been moving. He went over to a large stalk which rose up to a height of ten feet. "This is very familiar-looking, but I can't
29
quite place it..."
Near the base of the stalk lay an enormous splash of white, the size of an unfurled pennant. Kneeling, the Phantom touched it. Hey, it's a flower petal, a gigantic flower petal, he thought. Snapping his fingers, he said aloud, "And this thing here is a wild flower- but a wild flower ten feet tall."
He stood, scanning the surrounding area. "There- that's an orchid plant, with orchids the size of a man or bigger. And those ferns over there must reach to a height of thirty feet!"
The Phantom heard something in the brush. He turned. "Look at that fellow," he said.
Making his way along the mossy ground, carrying a twig the size of a baseball bat, was an ant. This ant was as large as a house cat. Seeing his three-section body, his waving antennae, his half-dozen legs so clearly made you feel as though you were studying him under a powerful microscope.
But this is no optical illusion, the Phantom thought as he blinked and shook his head. This is real.
What kind of place is this?
The leaves of the giant flower rustled.
Looking up, the Phantom exclaimed, "Whew!"
Flapping above him was a beautiful yellow-and-purple butterfly. Its wingspread was a full twelve feet.
I feel as though, thought the Phantom, I were Jack in that beanstalk fairy tale. This is like some giant's hothouse.
He watched the enormous butterfly flap up to lose itself in the high mist.
The Phantom continued to explore the volcanic valley. Everything he encountered was a giant version of something in the world outside . Plants which were tiny in the Deep Woods stretched up tall as trees here. Weeds grew higher than men, with seedpods the size of ripe pumpkins. The insects were of animal size. Red and black ants roamed the valley, looking like packs of dogs in size.
"I wonder if Doctor Love expected any of this," said the Phantom.
Up ahead of him he saw a great green grasshopper, with one of its legs resting on something black.
When the big insect sensed him its membranous wings opened and it gave a flying hop up and away, looking like a large model airplane on the loose.
The Phantom picked up the black object. It was a notebook, with a pebbled leather cover. Each page was filled with notations in neat, tiny printing. This must be Doctor Love's, concluded the Phantom, tucking the book into his belt.
Off among the foliage to his right, he sensed a large dark shape huddling. The Phantom planted his booted feet wide, turned with ready spear.
It was the helicopter.
The ship looked like a broken toy among the giant plants and flowers.
30
"Doctor Love," called the Phantom. "Doctor Love, are you here?"
No response came.
The copter's rotor blades were bent like the fingers of an old man's hand. The flying machine was tilted far to one side.
Slowly, the Phantom worked his way through the tangle of overgrown plant life.
He took a deep breath and held it when he came near the cockpit. Exhaling, he said, "No one inside at all."
The cracked cabin glass was zigzagged with fine lines. His face pressed to it, the Phantom studied the inside of the crashed helicopter. Radio's smashed, he noted to himself. Which explains why she couldn't contact Colonel Weeks to ask for help.
He stepped back from the downed ship and began studying the ground all around the crash site.
"What's this?" he asked aloud. He bent, touching the ground with his fingertips: A splotch of red stained the moss. "Blood. So at least one of the three is hurt."
The Phantom found a second scarlet dot, then a third. "Traces of footprints, too.
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