Page:Amazing Stories Volume 01 Number 06.djvu/25

horrible vegetable forms that I have ever seen. At length we settled down upon a comparatively dry space, perhaps a quarter of an acre in extent; and there, without warning, we were seized and pushed off the airplane, which instantly rose circling above us.

Ingra's staring face appeared for a moment, and even in the gloom we could see the devilish glee that overspread it. If our arms had not been bound trimph would have been ended then and there. I saw Edmund straining desperately at his bonds to reach his pistol. But in ten seconds the airplane had risen beyond pistol-shot.

"Quick!" said Edmund. "Hold your hand here." I turned my back to him, and stretched out my fingers, not knowing yet what he wished.

"Take a match from this box which I have twisted out of my side-pocket," he said; "and while I hold the box scratch it and, for Heaven's sake, hold the flames quick against the bonds around my wrists."

I managed to get hold of the match and, finding with my fingers the box, scratched as best I could. But the match broke. Edmund, with the skill of a prestidigitator, got another match out of the box, and pushed it into my fingers. It failed again.

"It's got to be done!" Edmund cried. "Here, Jack, you try."

Again he succeeded in extracting a match, and Jack backed up in my place. Whether his hands happened to be less tightly bound, or whether he had more skill and nerve, on the second attempt it succeeded.

"Don't lose it," cried Edmund, as the light flashed. "Burn the cord."

Jack tried. The smell of burning flesh arose, but Edmund never winced. In a few seconds the match went out.

"Another," said Edmund, and the same operation was repeated. A dozen separate attempts of this kind had been made, when, with a violent effort, Edmund snapped the charred cord, and was free. His hands and wrists were severely burned, but, paying no attention to them, in a minute he had us all cut loose.

It was a mercy that they had not noticed the flame from the airplane, for if they had, undoubtedly they would have returned, and made an end of us before we could have released our hands. Now, gripping our pistols, we felt less anxiety.

We could no longer see the airplane which had been swallowed up in the darkness, but suddenly a loud splash in the water close by startled us. A moment later this was followed by a second and a third splash. We had dimly caught sight of some long, slender objects, apparently falling from the sky. Instantly Edmund, whose eyes were marvelously quick, sung out:

"It's the rifles!"

"The rifles?"

"Yes. Ingra had them, and he has thrown them overboard." And at the words Edmund dashed into the shallow water where the splashing had occurred. In a minute he returned, with one of our cruising rifles in his hand!

"Hunt for the others!" he exclaimed, and we ran with him into the water, and actually found the other two sticking in the mud, for the water was not more than a foot deep.

"Heaven be praised!" said Edmund. "This is a piece of luck."

"I should think so," said Jack dryly. "It's positively humorous."

"In Heaven's name," I exclaimed, "why did he throw them overboard? Not for us, surely!"

"Of course not," said Edmund. "It's plain enough. He had taken them, but couldn't find out how to use them. He did not want to carry this evidence of his guilt back with him, and so it occurred to him to get rid of them along with us. No doubt when he cast them out the airplane was away, and high up. He never dreamed that they would fall within our reach.

"But you observe the heavy wind that is blowing overhead. The weapons are light, and the wind carried them our way. If the airplane had not been so high up they never would have reached us."

Dumfounded, the rest of us said nothing, except Jack, who grumbled:

"Hanged if. I don't think this kind of luck is uncanny."

"I cannot be thankful enough for the return of the rifles," said Edmund presently. "We shall have use for them. Without them I doubt if it would ever have been possible for us to pull out of this trap."

"It seems to me," said Jack, "that three pairs of seven-league boots would be more to the purpose just now than three rifles. What are you going to shoot?"

Edmund started to reply, but was interrupted by another noise—not a splash this time, but a heavy, sonorous, sighing sound. In the gloom, surrounded by the repulsive, half-spectral forms of the monstrous vegetation of the swamp, that mysterious sound, which plainly denoted some giant kind of life, fairly made us quake.

"My Heavens!" said Jack, "what can that be?"

"We'll see," replied Edmund calmly, and threw open his pocket-lantern. As the light streamed out there was a sudden rustle close by and an answering gleam, which passed a shaft of light illumination over us. With a united shout of joy we all cried out:

"Ala!"

It was indeed she with her airplane, within a dozen yards of us, but her approach had been concealed by the distorted limbs of the hideous vegetation that towered on three sides of us.

Our shout of astonishment had not ceased to echo when out of the horrible tangle rose, with a swift, sinuous movement, a long, anaconda-like arm, flesh-pink in the electric beam, but covered with dark, spike-edged spiracles.

It curled itself over the edge of the airplane and swiftly drew it downward.