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“He’s got away!” cried Jack, getting up and brushing some of the dirt from his clothes.
“There’s something that didn’t get away!” cried Mark, who had risen to his knees, and was pointing at the lake. Jack looked and what he saw made him almost believe he was dreaming.
For, emerging from the water, dragging the pole and line the boys had dropped along with it, was a most curious creature. It was a big fish, but a fish with four short legs on which it was walking, or rather waddling along as much as a duck, with a double supply of feet, might do.
“Say, do I see that or is there something the matter with my eyes?” sung out Jack, making ready to run away.
“It’s there all right!” exclaimed Mark. “Hi! Andy! Here’s something to shoot!” he yelled, for indeed the creature was big enough to warrant attack with a gun. It was about five feet long and two feet through.
On and on it came, straight at the boys, as if to have revenge for the pain the fish hook must have caused it, for the barb could be seen dangling from its lip. On and on it came, waddling forward, the water dripping from it at every step. It had the body and general shape of a fish, save that the tail was rather large in proportion. As it came nearer the boys noted that the feet were webbed, like those of a water fowl.
“Come on!” cried Jack. “It may attack us!”
At that moment the creature opened its mouth, showing a triple row of formidable teeth, and gave utterance to a sort of groan and grunt combined.
This was enough to send Jack and Mark off on a run up the bank, and did they stop until they heard Andy’s voice hailing them.
“What’s the matter, boys?”
“Come here! Quick!” answered Jack.
The fish-animal had halted and seemed to be taking an observation. To do this, as it could not turn its neck, it had to shift its whole body. Old Andy came up on the run, his gun held in readiness.
“Where is it?” he asked, and the boys pointed silently.
The hunter could not repress a start of astonishment as he saw the strange creature. But he did not hesitate a second. There was a crack of the rifle, and the thing, whatever it was, toppled over, dead.
Andy hurried up to it, to get a closer view.
“Well, this is the limit!” he exclaimed. “First we have grasshoppers that can roll peaches as big as hogsheads, and now we come across fish that walk. I wonder what we will see next.”
“I don’t want to go fishing in this lake any more,” spoke Jack, as he looked at the repulsive creature. “I never want to eat fish any more.”
“Same here,” agreed Mark, and old Andy was of the opinion that the thing killed would not make a wholesome dish for the table.
“There don’t seem to be any game in this section,” he remarked. “Not a sign could I see, nor have I since we have been here, unless you count those grasshoppers. But the fruit is good, I’ll say that.”
“Come on, we’d better be getting back,” Mark said, as he noticed it was getting dark. “I’m hungry.”
CHAPTER XXIITHE SNAKE-TREE
They managed to make a good meal of the food supplies they had brought along, and as a dessert Washington made some peach short-cake from the slices of the giant fruit they had found the day before. Just as they finished supper it got very dark, but, in about an hour, the moonbeams, as the travelers called them, came up, and illuminated the lake with a weird light.
As the machinery of the Mermaid was now in working order there was no further alarm because of the darkness. The ship rested on a level keel about a hundred yards back from the lake, and, seeing that all was snug, and the fastenings secure, the travelers went to bed.
Though they had to forego fish for breakfast the travelers made a good meal. After seeing that the ship was in readiness for a quick start, the professor suggested they take a walk around and see what sort of country they might be in now.
They tramped on for several miles, meeting with no adventures, and seeing nothing out of the ordinary. It was a pleasant day, just warm enough to be comfortable, and a little wind was blowing through the trees.
“It would be almost like home if it wasn’t for the strange lights, and the memory of the queer things here,” said Jack. “I feel fine. Let’s see if you can hit that dead tree over there, Mark.”
Jack stooped to grab up a stone, but no sooner had his fingers touched it than he called out:
“There! I forgot all about the stones here being heavier than lead. Guess we can’t throw any of ’em. But come on. I’ll race you to the dead tree!”
Mark was willing, so the two boys set off at a fast pace.
“Look out where you’re going!” the professor called after them. “No telling what may be in those woods,” for the boys were approaching a little glade, on the edge of which the dead tree stood.
Jack reached the goal first, and stood leaning against the trunk, waiting for Mark.
“You’d better practice sprinting!” exclaimed the victor.
Mark was about to excuse himself for his poor showing, on the plea of having eaten too much breakfast, when to his horror he saw what seemed to be a long thin snake spring out from the branches of a near-by tree and twine itself about Jack.
“Help me! Save me!” cried the unfortunate boy, as he was lifted high into the air and pulled within the shadow of the wood.
For an instant Mark was too horror-stricken to move. Then with a shout that alarmed the others, who were coming along more slowly, he made a dash for the place he had last seen Jack.
Had old Andy not been on the watch, with those keen eyes of his, there might have been a double tragedy. He had seen from afar the sudden snatching up of Jack, and noted Mark’s rush to save his chum.
“Stand still! Don’t go in there for your life!” yelled the hunter, at the same time running forward with gun ready.
His example was followed by the professor, Washington and the other two men.
“A snake has Jack!” called Mark, when Andy was at his side.
“No! It’s not a snake!” replied the hunter. “It’s worse. It’s the snake-tree!”
“What’s that?” asked Mr. Henderson, hurrying up.
“The snake-tree has Jack,” the hunter went on. “It is a plant, half animal, half-vegetable. It has long branches, not unlike a snake in shape. They can move about and grab things.”
“One of them got a grip on Jack as he leaned against the dead tree trunk. I just caught a glimpse of it, and called to prevent Mark from running into danger.”
“Can’t we save him?” asked Mr. Henderson.
“I’m going to try!” replied Andy. “Quick! Gather up some pieces of dry wood. I have some paper, and my pipe lighter. We must fight the snake-tree with fire!”
CHAPTER XXIIITHE DESERTED VILLAGE
Jack’s cries were growing fainter and fainter. Peering in through the branches of the dead tree the professor could see the whip-like limbs winding closer and closer about the boy.
“I am afraid we will be too late!” he said.
Andy had twisted some paper into a rude torch. He set fire to it with his pocket lighter, and, when Bill and Mark brought him some little pieces of dead wood the old hunter added them to his bundle, which was now blazing brightly.
“How are you going to do it?” asked the professor.
“I’ll show you,” replied Andy. He bound the sticks and paper together with wisps of grass and then, when it was so hot he could hardly hold it longer, he ran as close as he dared to the snake-tree and tossed the torch at the foot of it.
The blazing bundle fell among some damp leaves and grass, as Andy had intended it should, and soon a dense smoke arose, pouring straight up through the branches of the animal-tree, the limbs of which were gathered in a knot about the half-unconscious form of the boy.
For a few minutes they all waited anxiously. Would Andy’s trick succeed? Had the terrible tree not already squeezed the life from Jack?
But, while they watched, there seemed to come a change over the tree. The snake-like arms waved less and less. They seemed to straighten out, as though deprived of power by the smoke which was now so dense as to hide Jack from sight. Then the arms suddenly relaxed and something rolled from them and fell to the ground. With a quick movement Andy darted in, crawling on his hands and knees beneath the limbs, and brought Jack out. The boy was white and his eyes were closed.
“Get some water!” cried the old hunter.
Mark ran toward a stream a little distance away. He brought some of the curiously thick liquid in his hat, and while Andy held the boy the professor sprinkled some of the drops on his face, and forced some between his lips. In a little while Jack’s eyes slowly opened.
“Don’t let it eat me!” he begged.
“You’re all right now,” said Andy heartily. “Not a bit harmed, Jack. But,” he added in a low tone, “it was a close call.”
A few whiffs from a bottle of ammonia the professor carried soon brought Jack’s color back.
“Do you feel better now?” asked Mark.
“I guess so. Yes, I’m all right,” replied Jack, struggling to his feet. “What happened? Feels as if I had been tied up with a lot of rope.”
“That’s about what you were,” Andy replied, “only it was the worst kind of rope I ever saw. Those snake-trees are terrible things. I’ve read of ’em, but I never saw one before. The book that told of them says they squeeze their victims to death just as a snake does. The only way to do is to make some smoke and fire at the bottom. This sort of kills the branches or makes them stupid and they let go. The trees are half animal, and awful things. I hope we don’t meet with any more.”
“Same here,” added Jack fervently, as he grasped Andy’s hand, and thanked him for saving his life.
“Do you think you can go on, or shall we return to the ship?” the professor asked.
“Oh I can trail along, if you move a little slowly,” Jack replied. “I’m a bit stiff, that’s all.”
So they resumed their journey. They had gone, perhaps, three miles when Washington, who was in the lead, suddenly stopped and called:
“Sounds like thunder.”
The others listened. Sure enough there was a dull rumble and roar audible. It seemed off to the left, but they could see no clouds in the sky, nor any signs of a storm.
“Let’s take a walk over that way and see what it is,” Mr. Henderson suggested.
As they walked on the noise became louder, until in about half an hour it was like the sound from a blast furnace.
“What do you suppose it can be?” asked Mark.
“Perhaps some new freak of nature,” the professor replied. “We seem to have a good many of them here.”
They were all on their guard now, for there was no telling into what danger they might run. As they went up a little hill the noise became much louder. The professor and Andy, who had taken the lead, kept a sharp lookout ahead, that they might not unexpectedly fall into some hidden stream or lake. As they topped the hill they saw before them a deep valley, and in the midst of it was that which was causing the roaring sound.
From the centre of an immense mound of rock and earth there spouted up a great column of water, three hundred feet or more, as straight as a flag staff. It was about ten feet in diameter, and at the top it broke into a rosette of sparkling liquid, which as the vari-colored lights played on it, resembled some wonderful flower.
“It’s a great geyser!” the professor exclaimed. “We have come to a place like Yellowstone Park. We must be very careful. The crust may be very thin here, and let us down into some boiling spring.”
The others gathered around the professor, and, from a safe distance watched the ever rising and falling shaft of water.
It was not regular in motion. Sometimes it would shoot up to a great distance, nearly a thousand feet, the professor estimated. Again it would sink down, as the power sending it out lessened, until it was only a few hundred feet above the rounded top of the mound from which it spurted. But it never fell below this. All the while there was the constant roaring sound, as though the forces of nature below the surface were calling to be let out.
“I hope there are not many of those about,” Mr. Henderson remarked after a pause. “If the ship should hit one during the night it would be all up
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