Word: dinosaurs
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...ablest zoologist and that young man, Roy Chapman Andrews, industriously raised half a million dollars to take a band of assorted scientists into the Gobi for five years of intensive digging. As every one knows, the Andrews expeditions have thus far unearthed sufficient in the way of dinosaur skeletons and eggs, rare baluchitheria and traces of Mousiterian man to substantiate Dr. Osborn's hypothesis in spectacular fashion (TIME, Oct. 29, 1923, et seq.). The program has been extended and paleontological portents impend for four years to come. "Asia is the mother of the continents...
...fork) by which one of his geologists, one Charles Udall, located a mammoth's shoulder blade near Arivaca. Diviner Udall's thimble contained something sensitive to lime deposits. The stick dipped to outline a mammoth's tusk, a whole mammoth's skeleton, a buried dinosaur. Dr. Cummings, instead of theorizing about the instrument, proceeded to investigate further whether an important new fossil bed had been discovered...
Scientist Bombed. When two of Chang's airplanes flew over Peking early in the week, dropping bombs at random, their pilots little suspected that one bomb exploded within 20 feet of Roy Chapman Andrews, discoverer of the first dinosaur eggs known to moderns, chief of the American Museum of Natural History's division of Asiatic exploration. Mr. Andrews had wisely leaped beneath a box car when the airplanes soared into view, and was not among the five persons killed (all Chinese). Emerging from his impromptu shelter, he continued to supervise the loading of the car with scientific paraphernalia...
There is a type of after-dinner story in which the Englishman delights that works up a situation and then slides away gently from underfoot, leaving the audience asking helplessly: "Why is a mouse when it spins?"; and "The Dinosaur's Egg" turns this technique into presumably formal fiction. The author starts several things and when within view of the prey sits down and lights a cigarette. Uncle Bliss, a big-game hunter who calmly takes a snifter out of his pocket flask at a strictly temperance dinner, goes to Africa hunting pterodactyls. He encounters something big and snaky that...
...home or in the Pyrenees for financial reasons, have their jokes and family catch-words in a delightful idyllic existence. If a reader is reconciled to a purposeless book that smells of what the English country life should be (and the combination has refreshing elements) the flavor of "The Dinosaur's Egg" is sufficiently delicate to make one wish that such eggs were a staple commodity on the market...