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coast!”

“And why do you want to find that out?” asked Spilett.

“Because,” answered the engineer, “if the outlet is through the solid rock, it is possible that there is some cavity, which could be easily rendered habitable, after having turned the water in another direction.”

“But may not the water flow into the sea, through a subterranean outlet at the bottom of the lake?” asked Herbert.

“Perhaps so,” answered Smith, “and in that case, since Nature has not aided us, we must build our house ourselves.”

As it was five o’clock, the colonists were thinking of returning to the Chimneys across the plateau, when Top again became excited, and, barking with rage, before his master could hold him, he sprang a second time into the lake. Everyone ran to the bank. The dog was already twenty feet off, and Smith called to him to come back, when suddenly an enormous head emerged from the water.

Herbert instantly recognized it, the comical face, with huge eyes and long silky moustaches.

“A manatee,” he cried.

Although not a manatee, it was a dugong, which belongs to the same species.

The huge monster threw himself upon the dog. His master could do nothing to save him, and, before Spilett or Herbert could draw their bows, Top, seized by the dugong, had disappeared under the water.

Neb, spear in hand, would have sprung to the rescue of the dog, and attacked the formidable monster in its own element, had he not been held back by his master.

Meanwhile a struggle was going on under the water⁠—a struggle which, owing to the powerlessness of the dog, was inexplicable; a struggle which, they could see by the agitation of the surface, was becoming more terrible each moment; in short, a struggle which could only be terminated by the death of the dog. But suddenly, through the midst of a circle of foam, Top appeared, shot upward by some unknown force, rising ten feet in the air, and falling again into the tumultuous waters, from which he escaped to shore without any serious wounds, miraculously saved.

Cyrus Smith and his companions looked on amazed. Still more inexplicable, it seemed as if the struggle under water continued. Doubtless the dugong, after having seized the dog, had been attacked by some more formidable animal, and had been obliged to defend itself.

But this did not last much longer. The water grew red with blood, and the body of the dugong, emerging from the waves, floated on to a little shoal at the southern angle of the lake.

The colonists ran to where the animal lay, and found it dead. Its body was enormous, measuring between fifteen and sixteen feet long and weighing between 3,000 and 4,000 pounds. On its neck, yawned a wound, which seemed to have been made by some sharp instrument.

What was it that had been able, by this terrible cut, to kill the formidable dugong? None of them could imagine, and, preoccupied with these incidents, they returned to the Chimneys.

XVII

A visit to the lake⁠—The direction of the current⁠—The prospects of Cyrus Smith⁠—The dugong fat⁠—The use of the schistous limestone⁠—The sulphate of iron⁠—How glycerine is made⁠—Soap⁠—Saltpetre⁠—Sulphuric acid⁠—Nitric acid⁠—The new outlet.

The next day, the 7th of May, Smith and Spilett, leaving Neb to prepare the breakfast, climbed the plateau, while Herbert and Pencroff went after a fresh supply of wood.

The engineer and the reporter soon arrived at the little beach where the dugong lay stranded. Already flocks of birds had gathered about the carcass, and it was necessary to drive them off with stones, as the engineer wished to preserve the fat for the use of the colony. As to the flesh of the dugong, it would undoubtedly furnish excellent food, as in certain portions of the Malay archipelago it is reserved for the table of the native princes. But it was Neb’s affair to look after that.

Just now, Cyrus Smith was thinking of other things. The incident of the day before was constantly presenting itself. He wanted to solve the mystery of that unseen combat, and to know what congener of the mastodons or other marine monster had given the dugong this strange wound.

He stood upon the border of the lake, looking upon its tranquil surface sparkling under the rays of the rising sun. From the little beach where the dugong lay, the waters deepened slowly towards the centre, and the lake might be likened to a large basin, filled by the supply from Red Creek.

“Well, Cyrus,” questioned the reporter, “I don’t see anything suspicious in this?”

“No, my dear fellow, and I am at a loss how to explain yesterday’s affair.”

“The wound on this beast is strange enough, and I can’t understand how Top could have been thrown out of the water in that way. One would suppose that it had been done by a strong arm, and that that same arm, wielding a poignard, had given the dugong his death-wound.”

“It would seem so,” answered the engineer, who had become thoughtful. “There is something here which I cannot understand. But neither can we explain how I myself was saved; how I was snatched from the waves and borne to the downs. Therefore, I am sure there is some mystery which we will someday discover. In the meantime, let us take care not to discuss these singular incidents before our companions, but keep our thoughts for each other, and continue our work.”

It will be remembered that Smith had not yet discovered what became of the surplus water of the lake, and as there was no indication of its ever overflowing, an outlet must exist somewhere. He was surprised, therefore, on noticing a slight current just at this place. Throwing in some leaves and bits of wood, and observing their drift, he followed this current, which brought him to the southern end of the lake. Here he detected a slight depression in the waters, as if they were suddenly lost in some opening below.

Smith listened, placing his ear to the surface of the lake, and distinctly heard

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