CHAPTER XXVIII
THE SIGNAL FAILS
"Stop! Don't drink that! It may be poison!" yelled Jack.
"Pull him back!" shouted Mark, and together they advanced on the oldhunter. They tried to drag him away from the black pool, but Andy shookthem off.
"Let--me--alone!" he gasped, as he bent over the uninviting liquid anddrank deeply. "It's water, I tell you--good water--and I'malmost--dead--from--thirst!"
"Water? Is that water?" cried Jack.
"Well, it's the nearest thing to it that I've tasted since I've beenlost on the moon," spoke Andy, as he slowly arose. "My, but that wasgood!" he added fervently.
"But--water?" gasped Mark. "How can there be water here?"
"Taste and see," invited the old hunter.
They hesitated a moment, and then followed his example. Theliquid--water it evidently had once been--had a peculiar taste, but itwas not bad. By some curious chemical action, which they neverunderstood, the liquid had been prevented from evaporating, nor was itfrozen or petrified as was everything else on the moon.
What gave the liquid its peculiar black color they could not learn.Sufficient for them that it was capable of quenching their thirst, andthey all drank deeply and refilled their bottles.
"Now, I feel like eating again," spoke Andy, "We can take some of thisback with us, and have a good meal on blasted meat. Whenever we getthirsty we'll have to make a trip back here for water."
The boys agreed with him. They examined the black pool. It appeared tobe filled by hidden springs, though there was no bubbling, and thesurface was as unruffled as a mirror. The liquid was not very inviting,being as black as ink, but the color appeared to be a sort ofreflection, for when the water, if such it was, had been put intobottles it at once became clear, nor did it stain their faces or hands.
"Well, it's another queer thing in this queer moon," said Jack. "I wishthe two professors could see this place. They'd have lots to writeabout."
"I wonder if we'll ever see them again?" asked Mark.
"Sure," replied Jack hopefully. "We'll fill our lunch baskets, take alot of water along, and have another hunt for the projectile soon."
They did, but with no success. For several days more they lived in thepetrified city, the meat encased in its block of stone, which Andyblasted from time to time, and the black water keeping them alive. Fromtime to time they went out in the surrounding country, looking for theprojectile. But they could not find the place where they had left it,nor could they find even the place where they had picked up the losttool that had cost them so much suffering. They were more completelylost than ever. They crossed back and forth on the bridge over thecrater chasm, and penetrated for many miles in a radius from that,marking their way by chipping off pieces of the rocky pinnacles, asthey did not want to leave the petrified city behind.
From some peaks they caught glimpses of other towns that had fallenunder the strange spell of the petrification. Some were larger and somesmaller than the one they called "home."
Jack proposed visiting some of them, thinking they might find betterfood, but Mark and Andy decided it was best to stay where they were, asthey were nearer the supposed location of the projectile.
"I think they'll manage to fix it up somehow, so it will move," saidAndy, "and then they'll come to look for us. I hope it will be soon,though."
"Why?" asked Jack, struck by something in the tone of the old hunter.
"Because," replied Andy, "I am afraid our life-torches won't last muchlonger. Mine seems to be weakening. I have to hold it very close to myface now to breathe in comfort, while at first the oxygen from it wasso strong that I could hold it two feet off and never notice thepoisonous moon vapors."
This was a new danger, and, thinking of it, the faces of the boysbecame graver than ever. Death seemed bound to get them somehow.
Two more days went by. They had now been lost on the moon over a week.Each one now noticed that his life-torch was weakening. How much longerwould they last? They dared not answer that question. They could onlyhope.
The sun, too, was moving away from them. Soon the long night would setin. By Mark's computation there was only three more days of daylightleft. What would happen in the desolate darkness?
As they were returning from the black pool, with their water bottlesfilled, and put inside the fur bags to prevent the frost from reachingthem, Mark happened to gaze over across a line of towering peaks. Whathe saw caused him to gasp in astonishment.
"Jack! Andy! See!" he whispered hoarsely, pointing a trembling fingerat the sky.
There, outlined against the cloudless heavens, was a long, black shape,floating through the air about two miles distant.
"The projectile! The _Annihilator!_" yelled Jack. "Shout! Call to them!Wave your hands! Andy, fire your gun! They have started off, and theycan't see us. We must make them hear!"
Together they raised their voices in a mighty shout. The old hunterfired his gun several times. They waved their hands frantically.
But the projectile never swerved from its course. On it moved slowly,those in it paying no heed to the wanderers, for they did not hearthem. Andy fired his gun again, but the signal failed, and a fewminutes later the _Annihilator_ was lost to sight behind a great peak.