Part 35 (1/2)

Looking down to see what had tripped him he saw a long thin pole, straight as a lance. It had once been a tree limb, but all the branches were stripped off.

”Now if I only had an iron point for that,” Andy thought. Then he recollected the knife in his hand.

”The very thing,” he remarked aloud, the words sounding startlingly loud in the confinement of the copper helmet. ”If I only had something to fasten the knife on the pole I could make a spear to attack the octupus.”

Then he saw long streamers of sea weed growing up from the ocean bed.

They were very tough, a kind of wirey gra.s.s that was as strong as rope.

Andy cut several streamers and, with a hunter's skill bound the knife to the end of the staff.

Now he had a weapon formidable enough to venture in and give battle to the monster. He hesitated no longer, fearing that even the short delay might have been too much and that the boys were dead. He entered the cave. At first he could perceive nothing for it was quite dark. Then, as his eyes became used to the gloom, which the lamp in his helmet faintly illuminated, he saw, far back in the rear, the horrible octupus.

Two dark objects, around which were wrapped several folds of the terrible arms, Andy guessed to be Mark and Jack, and when he was a faint glow coming from them he was sure they were the boys, the gleams coming from the lamps in their helmets.

Warily the hunter approached the creature. If he had hoped to take it unawares he was disappointed, for, when he had come within ten feet, holding his improvised lance outstretched ready for a deadly thrust, the creature shot out two long arms toward Andy.

Now the battle began. The snake-like feelers, armed with big saucer shaped suckers, lashed about in the water, seeking to clasp the hunter in their deadly embrace. But Andy, who had fought many kinds of wild animals on land, did not lose his presence of mind in confronting this beast of the sea.

Nimbly, in spite of the handicap of the heavy diving suit, Andy dodged the arms. Watching his chance he thrust at one, and the sharp knife severed the end. But another arm shot out, while the wounded one was drawn in, and the battle was as much against the old hunter as before.

Once more he thrust his lance, and this time he severed one of the arms close to the ugly body. The creature, in its rage and pain, redoubled its efforts to clasp Andy.

The hunter decided to try to get to closer quarters where he could use his spear on the body of the beast. He stooped down and wiggled along on the bottom of the cave. But the creature saw him, and darted an arm out to pull the old man in. Andy squirmed to one side, and then, being as close as he desired, he rose to his feet and, drawing back the pole thrust it with all his force straight at the centre of the whitish-yellow body that was like a horrible lump of soft fat directly in front of him.

At the first touch of the knife the creature squirted out an inky substance that made the water about it as black as night. Andy could not see, but he could feel that the lance was still in the body. He pulled it back a little and thrust again and again, turning it around to enlarge the wound he had made.

Then, what he had feared all along happened. Two of the creatures arms found him, and he felt the terrible pressure as they wound themselves about him, the sucker-plates clinging fast. Yet in it all he did not lose his presence of mind, nor did he let go of the pole.

Tighter and tighter the arms clasped him. He struggled with all his strength but he was in a grip more powerful than that of a boa constrictor. Suddenly the pole he was holding snapped off. He let go the useless end and pulled the shorter part, to which the knife was bound, toward him. Andy felt his senses beginning to leave him, but he determined to make one more effort.

One hand was free, that holding the knife. With his last remaining strength he cut and slashed at the arms of the creature that were clasped about him.

Again and again he stuck the blade into the gristle like substance.

Could he win? Could he save his own life, to say nothing of that of the two boys?

The creature was las.h.i.+ng about now so that the water was a ma.s.s of black foam. The ink-color was beginning to fade away. Andy could dimly observe the horrible front of the octupus, and see the wound his lance had made.

Then all seemed to grow dark again. He dimly remembered trying to thrust the knife into one of the saucer-shaped eyes, and then of a sudden his senses left him.

When Andy came to his senses he found himself lying on the ocean bed just outside the cave. About him stood the professor, Was.h.i.+ngton, Tom and Bill. His head buzzed and he felt weak, but he knew he was uninjured, and that his diving suit had not been punctured in the fight with the octupus, for he could feel the fresh air entering from the tank at the back of his helmet.

Were the boys killed, Andy wondered. Had his fight to save them been in vain? He managed to stand up, and then, to his relief he saw Mark and Jack standing behind Tom and Bill. The boys seemed weak but otherwise uninjured.

The professor motioned to know if Andy could walk and the old hunter soon demonstrated that he could by stepping forward. Then the party proceeded slowly to the s.h.i.+p.

Little time was lost by each one in divesting himself of his diving suit as soon as they had left the water chamber. The first thing Andy asked when his helmet was off, was:

”Did I kill the beast?”

”Indeed you did,” replied the professor. ”And just in time, too. You were about done for when we came back with the guns, but they were not needed. My! But you must have had a terrible fight!”