38

After maneuvering the Land Rover through increasingly swampy terrain, you groan in frustration. "You'd think these beasts would make some noise. Who knew it was possible to miss a herd of enormous dinosaurs?"

The plan seemed pretty easy, right up until you had to detour around one pool after another of hip-deep water. With a sigh and a glance at the Way Way Wayback Machine, you say to Brett, "Where we're going, we do need roads."

Nor are there any more trees to climb to get your bearings. Brett hoists herself onto the Land Rover's roof and peers through field glasses. "There's good news and bad news," she says. "The good news is that I see hadrosaurs. Scads of duck-billed hadrosaurs. Not more than a mile from here. The bad news is there's more water between us and them."

You clamber up onto the roof. Brett passes you the binoculars. You let out a low whistle at the sight of them. Dozens of huge hadrosaurs, in shades of green and brown, occupy a low, steep-sided terrace on the far side of the marsh. Their bulky bodies are unmistakable, with their distinctively arched spines and stiff tails. Some graze, some amble about on two legs or four. Some rise up on beefy hind legs to point their broad snouts this way and that, scanning their territory. Their markings blend in perfectly with their surroundings. Only now do you notice that there are yet more of them sitting motionless.

Gazing at the Hadrosaurus herd fills you with…