At the Earth's Core (Read & Co. Classics Edition)

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

At the Earth’s Core reveals an entire world 500 miles below the surface of our planet. With dinosaurs, cavemen, and perpetual noon, the eerie world of Pellucidar is the perfect setting for this adventurous science fiction novel.

David Innes is a wealthy miner who gave his friend, Perry Abner, the money to invent a powerful excavating vehicle. While the pair are carrying out a test run of the machine, they discover that it is incapable of turning around. Hurtling towards the centre of the Earth, David and Perry are sure they’re about to meet a fiery end. But then they break through into an entirely new world. 500 miles below the Earth’s surface lies Pellucidar. This extraordinary world is inhabited by prehistoric beasts, intelligent reptiles, and humans that resemble cavemen. Pellucidar basks in constant daylight and, therefore, there is no concept of time in the land. Join David and Perry in the first of many perilous adventures in Pellucidar.

First published in serial form in 1914 and as a book in 1922, At the Earth’s Core is the first volume in this seven-part fantasy series. Written by the prolific author of The Tarzan Series, Edgar Rice Burroughs, this volume is not to be missed by science fiction fans.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Read Books Ltd.
• Release date: Jul 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781473376724

Edgar Rice Burroughs

Edgar Rice Burroughs, born on September 1, 1875, in Chicago, Illinois, is best known as the creator of the iconic character Tarzan, the lord of the jungle. Burroughs' life was as adventurous as the tales he penned. Before finding literary success, he tried his hand at various professions, including a cowboy, gold miner, and even an unsuccessful businessman. These diverse experiences greatly influenced his writing, imbuing his stories with a sense of authenticity and adventure that captivated readers. Burroughs' breakthrough came in 1912 with the publication of "Tarzan of the Apes" in a pulp magazine. The novel was an instant hit, leading to a series of 24 sequels and establishing Tarzan as a cultural phenomenon. The Tarzan series not only entertained readers but also reflected contemporary fascinations with the exotic, the unknown, and the primitive. At the time, American society was grappling with rapid industrialization and urbanization, and Tarzan's jungle adventures offered an escape to a simpler, more primal world. Burroughs' work, however, was not without controversy. Critics have noted that the Tarzan stories often perpetuate colonialist and racist stereotypes, reflecting the prejudices of their time. Despite this, Burroughs' influence on the adventure genre is undeniable. His vivid storytelling and imaginative worlds inspired countless writers and filmmakers, cementing his legacy in popular culture. The author's personal life was equally colorful. He married twice and had three children, with his family life often mirroring the tumult of his professional endeavors. During World War II, Burroughs, then in his late 60s, served as a war correspondent in the Pacific, showcasing his enduring sense of adventure. Understanding Burroughs' significance requires situating him within the broader historical and cultural trends of the early 20th century. This was a period marked by a fascination with exploration and a growing interest in psychology and the human psyche, themes that Burroughs deftly wove into his narratives. Moreover, his work prefigured the rise of the modern superhero, with Tarzan's superhuman abilities and moral code laying the groundwork for characters like Superman and Batman. In today's context, Burroughs' work can be seen through a critical lens that acknowledges both its imaginative appeal and its problematic aspects. Modern readers might find value in exploring how his stories reflect the complexities of their time while also considering how these narratives can be reinterpreted to resonate with contemporary values of diversity and inclusivity. The enduring popularity of Tarzan attests to the timeless allure of adventure and the human fascination with the natural world. In sum, Edgar Rice Burroughs was a man of his era whose works continue to captivate and provoke thought. His life and literature offer a lens through which to explore early 20th-century American culture, the evolution of the adventure genre, and the enduring human quest for meaning and heroism in an ever-changing world.

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AT THE

EARTH'S CORE

(Read & Co. Classics Edition)

By

EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS

First published in 1914

Copyright © 2022 Read & Co. Classics

This edition is published by Read & Co. Classics,

an imprint of Read & Co.

This book is copyright and may not be reproduced or copied in any

way without the express permission of the publisher in writing.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available

from the British Library.

Read & Co. is part of Read Books Ltd.

For more information visit

www.readandcobooks.co.uk

Contents

Edgar Rice Burroughs

PROLOGUE

I TOWARD THE ETERNAL FIRES

II A STRANGE WORLD

III A CHANGE OF MASTERS

IV DIAN THE BEAUTIFUL

V SLAVES

VI THE BEGINNING OF HORROR

VII FREEDOM

VIII THE MAHAR TEMPLE

IX THE FACE OF DEATH

X PHUTRA AGAIN

XI FOUR DEAD MAHARS

XII PURSUIT

XIII THE SLY ONE

XIV THE GARDEN OF EDEN

XV BACK TO EARTH

Edgar Rice Burroughs

Edgar Rice Burroughs was born in Chicago in 1875. His father, a Civil War veteran, sent him to Michigan Military Academy in his youth, but in 1895 Burroughs failed the entrance exam for the US army, and was then discharged from the military altogether in 1897 having been diagnosed with a heart problem. Following this, Burroughs worked in a range of unrelated short-term jobs, such as railroad policeman, business partner, and miner. In 1911, having worked for seven years on menial wages, and having taken an interest in the pulp magazines of the day, Burroughs began to write fiction. Some years later, he recalled thinking that although I had never written a story, I knew absolutely that I could write stories just as entertaining and probably a whole lot more so than any I chanced to read in those magazines.

Only a year later, Burroughs' story 'Under the Moons of Mars' was serialized in All-Story Magazine, earning him $400 (approximately twenty times that by modern-day economic standards). This money enabled Burroughs to start writing full-time and in the same year (1912), he published his successful and most well-known work – Tarzan of the Apes. Tarzan was a national sensation, and Burroughs showed an entrepreneurial streak when he exploited it in a range of different ways, from comics to movies to merchandise. By 1923, Burroughs had founded his own company – Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. – and printed his own books throughout the rest of his life.

During World War II, as a resident of Hawaii at the time of the Pearl Harbour attack, Burroughs became one of the oldest war correspondents in the US. After the war, Burroughs moved back to California, where he eventually died of a heart attack, leaving behind more than sixty novels. The figure of Tarzan remains immensely popular, and today the original 1912 novel has almost innumerable sequels across all forms of media.

Bookplate designed for Edgar Rice Burroughs

by his nephew, Studley Oldham Burroughs, in 1922.

1922 letter between Edgar Rice Burroughs

and Ruthven Deane that describes the details

of the bookplate's design and their relevance.

At the Earth's Core

PROLOGUE

In the first place please bear in mind that I do not expect you to believe this story. Nor could you wonder had you witnessed a recent experience of mine when, in the armor of blissful and stupendous ignorance, I gaily narrated the gist of it to a Fellow of the Royal Geological Society on the occasion of my last trip to London.

You would surely have thought that I had been detected in no less a heinous crime than the purloining of the Crown Jewels from the Tower, or putting poison in the coffee of His Majesty the King.

The erudite gentleman in whom I confided congealed before I was half through!—it is all that saved him from exploding—and my dreams of an Honorary Fellowship, gold medals, and a niche in the Hall of Fame faded into the thin, cold air of his arctic atmosphere.

But I believe the story, and so would you, and so would the learned Fellow of the Royal Geological Society, had you and he heard it from the lips of the man who told it to me. Had you seen, as I did, the fire of truth in those gray eyes; had you felt the ring of sincerity in that quiet voice; had you realized the pathos of it all—you, too, would believe. You would not have needed the final ocular proof that I had—the weird rhamphorhynchus-like creature which he had brought back with him from the inner world.

I came upon him quite suddenly, and no less unexpectedly, upon the rim of the great Sahara Desert. He was standing before a goat-skin tent amidst a clump of date palms within a tiny oasis. Close by was an Arab douar of some eight or ten tents.

I had come down from the north to hunt lion. My party consisted of a dozen children of the desert—I was the only white man. As we approached the little clump of verdure I saw the man come from his tent and with hand-shaded eyes peer intently at us. At sight of me he advanced rapidly to meet us.

A white man! he cried. "May the good Lord be praised! I have been watching you for hours, hoping against hope that this time there would be a white man. Tell me the date. What year is it?"

And when I had told him he staggered as though he had been struck full in the face, so that he was compelled to grasp my stirrup leather for support.

It cannot be! he cried after a moment. It cannot be! Tell me that you are mistaken, or that you are but joking.

I am telling you the truth, my friend, I replied. Why should I deceive a stranger, or attempt to, in so simple a matter as the date?

For some time he stood in silence, with bowed head.

Ten years! he murmured, at last. Ten years, and I thought that at the most it could be scarce more than one! That night he told me his story—the story that I give you here as nearly in his own words as I can recall them.

I

TOWARD THE ETERNAL FIRES

I was born in Connecticut about thirty years ago. My name is David Innes. My father was a wealthy mine owner. When I was nineteen he died. All his property was to be mine when I had attained my majority—provided that I had devoted the two years intervening in close application to the great business I was to inherit.

I did my best to fulfil the last wishes of my parent—not because of the inheritance, but because I loved and honored my father. For six months I toiled in the mines and in the counting-rooms, for I wished to know every minute detail of the business.

Then Perry interested me in his invention. He was an old fellow who had devoted the better part of a long life to the perfection of a mechanical subterranean prospector. As relaxation he studied paleontology. I looked over his plans, listened to his arguments, inspected his working model—and then, convinced, I advanced the funds necessary to construct a full-sized, practical prospector.

I shall not go into the details of its construction—it lies out there in the desert now—about two miles from here. Tomorrow you may care to ride out and see it. Roughly, it is a steel cylinder a hundred feet long, and jointed so that it may turn and twist through solid rock if need be. At one end is a mighty revolving drill operated by an engine which Perry said generated more power to the cubic inch than any other engine did to the cubic foot. I remember that he used to claim that that invention alone would make us fabulously wealthy—we were going to make the whole thing public after the successful issue of our first secret trial—but Perry never returned from that trial trip, and I only after ten years.

I recall as it were but yesterday the night of that momentous occasion upon which we were to test the practicality of that wondrous invention. It was near midnight when we repaired to the lofty tower in which Perry had constructed his iron mole as he was wont to call the thing. The great nose rested upon the bare earth of the floor. We passed through the doors into the outer jacket, secured them, and then passing on into the cabin, which contained the controlling mechanism within the inner tube, switched on the electric lights.

Perry looked to his generator; to the great tanks that held the life-giving chemicals with which he was to manufacture fresh air to replace that which we consumed in breathing; to his instruments for recording temperatures, speed, distance, and for examining the materials through which we were to pass.

He tested the steering device, and overlooked the mighty cogs which transmitted its marvelous velocity to the giant drill at the nose of his strange craft.

Our seats, into which we strapped ourselves, were so arranged upon transverse bars that we would be upright whether the craft were ploughing her way downward into the bowels of the earth, or running horizontally along some great seam of coal, or rising vertically toward the surface again.

At length all was ready. Perry bowed his head in prayer. For a moment we were silent, and then the old man's hand grasped the starting lever. There was a frightful roaring beneath us—the giant frame trembled and vibrated—there was a rush of sound as the loose earth passed up through the hollow space between the inner and outer jackets to be deposited in our wake. We were off!

The noise was deafening. The sensation was frightful. For a full minute neither of us could do aught but cling with the proverbial desperation of the drowning man to the handrails of our swinging seats. Then Perry glanced at the thermometer.

Gad! he cried, it cannot be possible—quick! What does the distance meter read?

That and the speedometer were both on my side of the cabin, and as I turned to take a reading from the former I could see Perry muttering.

Ten degrees rise—it cannot be possible! and then I saw him tug frantically upon the steering wheel.

As I finally found the tiny needle in the dim light I translated Perry's evident excitement, and my heart sank within me. But when I spoke I hid the fear which haunted me. It will be seven hundred feet, Perry, I said, by the time you can turn her into the horizontal.

You'd better lend me a hand then, my boy, he replied, for I cannot budge her out of the vertical alone. God give that our combined strength may be equal to the task, for else we are lost.

I wormed my way to the old man's side with never a doubt but that the great wheel would yield on the instant to the power of my young and vigorous muscles. Nor was my belief mere vanity, for always had my physique been the envy and despair of my fellows. And for that very reason it had waxed even greater than nature had intended, since my natural pride in my great strength had led me to care for and develop my body and my muscles by every means within my power. What with boxing, football, and baseball, I had been in training since childhood.

And so it was with the utmost confidence that I laid hold of the huge iron rim; but though I threw every ounce of my strength into it, my best effort was as unavailing as Perry's had been—the thing would not budge—the grim, insensate, horrible thing that was holding us upon the straight road to death!

At length I gave up the useless struggle, and without a word returned to my seat. There was no need for words—at least none that I could imagine, unless Perry desired to pray. And I was quite sure that he would, for he never left an opportunity neglected where he might sandwich in a prayer. He prayed when he arose in the morning, he prayed before he ate, he prayed when he had finished eating, and before he went to bed at night he prayed again. In between he often found excuses to pray even when the provocation seemed far-fetched to my worldly eyes—now that he was about to die I felt positive that I should witness a perfect orgy of prayer—if one may allude with such a simile to so solemn an act.

But to my astonishment I discovered that with death staring him in the face Abner Perry was transformed into a new being. From his lips there flowed—not prayer—but a clear and limpid stream of undiluted profanity, and it was all directed at that quietly stubborn piece of unyielding mechanism.

I should think, Perry, I chided, that a man of your professed religiousness would rather be at his prayers than cursing in the presence of imminent death.

Death! he cried. Death is it that appalls you? That is nothing by comparison with the loss the world must suffer. Why, David within this iron cylinder we have demonstrated possibilities that science has scarce dreamed. We have harnessed a new principle, and with it animated a piece of steel with the power of ten thousand men. That two lives will be snuffed out is nothing to the world calamity that entombs in the bowels of the earth the discoveries that I have made and proved in the successful construction of the thing that is now carrying us farther and farther toward the eternal central fires.

I am frank to admit that for myself I was much more concerned with our own immediate future than with any problematic loss which the world might be about to suffer. The world was at least ignorant of its bereavement, while to me it was a real and terrible actuality.

What can we do? I asked, hiding my perturbation beneath the mask of a low and level voice.

We may stop here, and die of asphyxiation when our atmosphere tanks are empty, replied Perry, "or we may continue on with the slight hope that we may later sufficiently deflect the prospector from the vertical to carry us along the arc of a great circle which must eventually return us to the surface. If we succeed in so doing before we reach the higher internal temperature we may even yet survive. There would

Reviews for At the Earth's Core (Read & Co. Classics Edition)

[nwdavies-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It's been a while since I read any Edgar Rice Burroughs and I'd forgotten just how good he could be. This is a great book, possibly my favourite ERB book so far. A well written, often amusing and always exciting adventure as David Ennis and Abner Perry drill down into the hollow Earth and discover the amazing world of Pellucidar. Loved this. It reminded me why I set about collecting ERB's books in the first place.

[baswood · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Published in 1914 the same year as [Tarzan of the Apes] this one is a notch below the first of the Tarzan books.It starts promisingly enough with our hero David Innes and his older inventor friend Perry strapped into a metallic earth burrowing machine. The steering mechanism becomes jammed as they helplessly feel the heat intensify in their capsule, but just as their air supply runs out after four days travelling and Perry is lying inert in his seat the machine breaks through into another world. They have arrived in a world that lies near the centre of the earth and where humans and humanoids battle prehistoric monsters and each other for survival. It is at this point that any characterisation and plotting goes out the window as Burroughs concentrates on building his world in which our heroes have one adventure after another. If the initial premise seems unlikely then the exploits of David Ennis are real boys own fantasy stuff; amazing coincidences, incredible luck, feats of superhuman courage, strength and ingenuity, follow in breathless succession as our hero falls in lust with a beautiful slave girl and single-mindedly tries to woo, win and save her from peril.Burroughs makes his fight scenes exciting and exotic and there are some imaginative scenarios, but they are linked together with minimal story telling. The world building has promise, but it is never fleshed out in enough detail to make it believable or even workable. His idea that the world of Pelucidar has no concept of time is just plain daft, but it does allow for Burroughs to abandon his plot development, whenever he wishes to bring about the next amazing coincidence.David Innes tells the story in the first person and says "please bear in mind that I do not expect you to believe this story" and I suppose we; the readers have been warned. This is pulp fiction, probably no worse than much of the stuff that was and still is being churned out and one imagines that Burroughs hardly stopped to think much about his writing. He had an idea for a story, an idea with which could spin off more tales (there are seven in the series) and he hacked his way to the end. A two star read.

[la2bkk · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Burroughs' work was disappointingly simplistic on many levels. Perhaps I had unrealistic expectations based upon my belief that he wrote "science fiction;" this work makes clear he has no understanding of the scientific processes unlike great 19th century authors like H.G. Wells. Perhaps more surprising was Burroughs' inability to develop meaningful characters, story lines or social commentary. Not much more than an easy reading dime store novel.

[ikeman100 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It took me a long time to get back to Boroughs. I read all the Tarzan books as a teen but there are several others on my wish list. He's always available to be enjoyed so I know I'll get to them sometime.Needing a change in book styles I selected this classic. Wow, was it fun! I always forget what a great adventure writer he was. Now I have to read the sequel.

[arkrayder · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

It took a while to get going about 30 pages in, but it was entertaining enough to read.

[john257hopper · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This novel, published in 1914, feels very Jules Verne-ish, albeit that the technology is updated a few decades from that author's Journey to the Centre of the Earth. While the science of a hollow Earth is obviously nonsensical, this is quite a gripping story and the environment in this strange, buried world is vividly described. This is a short novel, only 82 pages, but it packs in a lot with a bare minimum of backstory and character development. The end is rather rushed and unbelievable even in the context of the obviously fantastical narrative, but I enjoyed this one at a fairly superficial level.

[nx74defiant · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

My copy had pictures from the "new" movie - that Doug McClure classic version.Very fun tale familiar story.

[aliceanna-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Easy and entertaining read if you REALLY suspend disbelief in the overall premise. Mindless entertainment.

[hermit_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The author's literary style is well developed and he set up and interesting story line in which for the first time Tarzan is lost. An American name Jason Gridley is set on rescuing David Innes from a lost world that lies under ours. A world with its own sun that never sets and the author can play with his ideas of evolution with the introduction of the snake people. And as in other “Lost Worlds” we have read about Tarzan has to fight prehistoric animals that the author claims are the ancestors to the creatures of Tarzan's jungle up above. With what seems like an entire world bent on the destruction of this intruder, Tarzan must persevere if he is to be successful in his rescue.

[andyray_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The first novel in ERB's Pellucidar series, we're introduced to the animals and various tribes of men who live in that underground world. It's very readable, but your suspension of disbelief is going to have to work on these propositions: that Pellucidar is upside down, yet has a gravity opposite that of earth; that there is a complete underground world that leaves nothing but air pocket between two parts of our sphere called Earth; that several versions of mankind exist at the same time, from human-like animals with long tails to large, bronzed giants of good looks and full language, and who are the advanced species in this world? Well, large bat-like things most resembling the extinct pherodactyls (sp) of yore. And, of course, the fact that our hero faces at least 10 death-defying events where he gets away every time. Oh yeah. Escape from a 40 foot bear-like creature. Hve that big monster that came roaring after you turn into a herbivorus flower eater. And . . . well, you get the picture.

[mrslee_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

An entertaining, if entirely illogical story. One could call it a rousing good tale. In the vein of Flash Gordon.