When Super-Apes Plot

Damn in the Borneo jungle! The rising sun shone down upon what may
have been the strangest sight seen in that vast wilderness since the
beginning of time. A dark and gloomy lake, some ten miles wide, lay
shimmering beneath gray mists which rose like clouds of steam from its
glassy surface; here and there this surface was broken by waterspouts
which constantly boiled up and fell back again as though heated from
the depths' beneath by gigantic fires.

On all sides was virgin jungle. A dense rank growth of trees and vines
rose up from the very edge of the water like a living wall, hemming in
the lake with an almost solid mass of vegetation which reached
unbroken for miles and miles.

Near the center of this lake there was an island. Like the mainland,
this island seemed to be covered with verdure, but from near the
middle of it the twin peaks of a great mountain reared up far above
the treetops, and from between these peaks rose a tall column of
yellowish smoke that spiraled sullenly into the upper atmosphere. To
the eyes of the initiated this lazy smoke wreath told the reason for
those boiling waterspouts: the whole region was volcanic, undermined
with sleeping fires of a vastness beyond the conception of man.

Unusual as were these natural phenomena, however, there was a far
stranger thing in the lake that morning--a thing which had not been
there when the sun rose on the previous day. Some two hundred feet
from the shore of the island, near a point where a little sandy beach
broke the monotony of the tree-fringed coast and where the black water
was free from geysers, a huge seaplane lay floating gently on the
still surface.

Like some great fowl of an unknown species this visitor from another
world rested in its dark setting, its metal parts and white planes,
nearly a hundred feet across, reflecting the early rays of the sun,
its propellers and engines motionless and silent.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky and the lake mists evaporated and
disappeared, there were sundry indications of life in the anchored
seaplane. A canvas curtain which inclosed the entire hull was rolled
up, and a tall, strong-looking man, about thirty years of age, thrust
his head and shoulders over the side to survey the island.

Presently this man was joined by another, shorter and of dark
complexion; then came a thin, gray-haired old fellow; and last of all
a very pretty young woman with a wealth of yellow hair, which
reflected the sun's rays like polished gold.

For a few minutes the four people contemplated the scene before them
in silence; then the younger white man--he of the tall figure and wide
shoulders who had first appeared---grinned boyishly.