Books: Non-Fiction

Mother of Continents

Some time ago, perhaps 15 million years, there were watery depressions in the enormous slab of territory that is now called Mongolia—reedy lakes along whose shores fed cold-blooded brutes of preposterous, hobgoblin shapes and proportions. Some were small, only eight or nine feet long, with skins no thicker than ordinary linoleum. Their necks were like fire-hose, ending in froggish heads. Their posteriors stuck out like a lizard's, into muscular tails. Their forelegs were futile flippers but astern were haunches like a bull ostrich, for swift, stooped running on webbed...

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