A DUEL TO THE DEATH.
TO return to Garth and the engineer.
For a few seconds they could do naught but gaze helplessly at the
approaching monster; then all the fighting spirit of the inventor
rose, and he prepared to resist to the death, if need be.
Darting out on deck, he cast off the mooring-rope, bellowing the
while to Wilson to start the engines. Within three minutes of the
appearance of the great fish-lizard, the _Seal,_ passing close to
the towering side of the brute, flashed seaward at her topmost
speed.
And now began a chase in the like of which Garth had never taken
part before. With all his skill at the wheel he could but barely keep
the _Seal_ away from her monstrous enemy. The reptile seemed bent
on the destruction of the craft this time. He spared no effort to
overtake her. Perhaps his previous failure had rendered him the more
furious?
With every plate on his body gleaming with a brilliant,
phosphorescent light, he swept on. His breath hissed through his
gaping nostrils like steam from the escape valve of an engine, and his
mighty paddles were buried beneath a smother of foam.
Swiftly he overhauled the flying vessel, until he was almost
alongside; then, swift and sure, he snapped at the _Seal’s_ rail.
Quickly as Garth turned the faithful craft, he was a moment too late.
The great fangs closed upon the polished steel bar, and, with a jerk
that almost overturned the boat, a six-foot length of rail was torn
bodily from its boltings.
The narrowness of the escape brought the sweat pouring from the
inventor’s body. Apparently the shock had not injured the saurian, for
he swept on again in pursuit, giving utterance to a booming roar as he
advanced.
A dangerous gleam came into Garth’s eyes as he noted the grim
persistency of the monstrous reptile. Staving off a second attack of
the brute by a quick turn of the wheel, the inventor took down the
tube.
“Stand by to reverse her when she strikes,” he cried. “I’m going
to ram the brute.”
“Be careful!” warned Wilson in return, and then Garth dropped the
tube.
Bringing the _Seal_ round in a perilously close circle, he
steered her straight and true for her monstrous enemy’s side. This
offensive movement seemed to puzzle the saurian, and he attempted to
avoid the swooping vessel.
But she was too quick for him. With a shock that almost jerked
Garth from his feet, the vessel’s sharp prow struck the reptile’s
heaving side, about midway between the two starboard paddles. A
crimson torrent spurted from the wound, deluging the _Seal’s_
bright plates, and turning her spotless deck into a veritable
shambles.
On the instant Wilson flung over his levers, and, under reversed
engines, the submarine leapt back from her stricken foe. Yet, quick as
she moved, the great tail of the ichthyosaurus moved quicker. With a
stroke like that of a steam hammer, it struck the _Seal’s_ hull
just below water, starting a couple of plates, through the interstices
of which the water commenced to pour in an ever-increasing stream.
Though sorely stricken the great fish-lizard was not yet
defeated. Swinging round, he churned after the retreating vessel, his
roar changed to a shrill screaming.
Again the inventor signalled for full speed ahead, and, for the
second time, the vessel plunged down upon her relentless pursuer. With
marvellous swiftness the huge brute swerved from his course, but
Garth, with a turn of the wheel, followed his movement. The inventor
was determined that he would finish this reptile once and for all.
The bleeding side of the creature offered an excellent mark, and
straight for this Garth drove the vessel. Like a rocket she shot
forward, and the saurian’s ribs snapped like matchwood as once more
she struck the towering carcase.
There came a terrible death-cry from the huge reptile; then, as
the _Seal_ drew slowly away, the brute leapt clear out of the
water, and fell with a thunderous crash across the submarine’s deck. A
savage exclamation burst from Garth as the _Seal_ commenced to
sink beneath the enormous weight of the monster’s body. The brute’s
paddles were thrashing madly in its death flurry, and the booming
strokes of the giant tail seemed to make the whole underworld
ring.
Alarmed by the uproar, the engineer came rushing up into the
turret.
“What’s happened?” he cried; then his eye took in the peril of
the situation. The water was fast closing over the _Seal,_ and,
despite all his efforts, Garth could not shake her clear of the dying
saurian. Once let her touch bottom with that great weight across her
deck, and no power on earth could raise her again.
“Sink her!” Garth cried at length, turning to his friend, “it’s
our only chance. If we can’t get her clear of this brute we’re
done.”
Quick as thought Wilson darted below again, and a moment later
the throb of the pumps broke upon the ears of the inventor.
Would it be possible for the vessel to sink from under her
monstrous burden?
Anxiously Garth looked out into the swirling waters, but the
saurian appeared to sink quite as fast as the _Seal._ The strokes
of the brute’s paddles, though now feebler, were yet enough to
occasion the inventor no small uneasiness.
Neither forward nor backward could the vessel move, although
urged on by the full power of her engines. The enormous weight across
her deck held her almost motionless.
So the minutes dragged by, each one fraught with the suspense of
a lifetime, and there came no change for the better in the situation
of the _Seal_ and her occupants, save that the last spark of life
had flickered from the monster, and he lay still in death. Yet even
this was something to be thankful for. While he lived there had ever
been a danger that, by some random stroke of his paddles, he might
have smashed in one or other of the vessel’s deck-plates. Now that
danger was past.
But still the vessel sank in the crimsoned waters. Soon, unless
this sea was of unusual depth, she must touch bottom; and then--a
slow, lingering death for the two men aboard her--death by
suffocation, deep down in the gloomy depths of this subterranean
sea.
The lonely vigil grew too much for Garth at last, and, placing
the tube to his lips, he summoned the engineer.
“It’s no use,” he remarked hopelessly, as the latter entered the
wheelhouse; “we might as well let things take their course. The
brute’s jammed too firmly across the deck for us to move him.”
“It’s what Silas would call ‘checkmate,’ then?” questioned
Wilson.
“That’s it; but it seems jolly hard, just as we’d bested the
brute, too. How’s that crack going on where his tail caught us?”
“I’ve fixed the door of the room--it’s Mervyn’s study, you
know, where the smash is--so that the water cannot spread to
other places. I say, it was a good thing we decided to have
water-tight doors to all the compartments!”
But Garth did not answer. He was gazing fixedly outside. The
water, stained until now to a crimson hue by the life-blood of the
saurian, was clearing rapidly.
“Look!” the inventor cried suddenly. Wilson followed the
direction of his gaze. Close alongside a jagged, black rock was
thrusting itself upward as the vessel sank.
“If the brute’s body will only catch on that we may escape after
all,” Garth cried excitedly. “Get below again, Tom, old man, and start
your engines like blazes when you hear me ring.”
The next few moments were full of painful anxiety to the engineer
as he waited, gripping his levers, for the signal which should tell
him that the vessel was free. It came at length, and a wild huzza
almost escaped him as he felt the _Seal_ begin to move. Ere long
she was sweeping through the water at her usual pace, and then Wilson
felt free to raise her. When she reached the surface the lad rejoined
his comrade in the turret.
“Thank heaven we came through all right!” Garth breathed
fervently. “That squeak was narrow enough to turn one’s hair grey. But
for that rock we’d have been done, sure as fate. The brute’s head
caught against it, and the old boat simply dropped from under. How’s
your arm?”
“Aches badly,” was the reply. “I knocked it as I went down the
last time.”
“That’s bad. I’ll dress it soon as ever we get back.”
Straight for the beach Garth steered the _Seal,_ running her
aground in preparation for repairing the damages sustained in the
struggle with the saurian. Then, when Wilson’s wound was redressed,
Garth rolled up his sleeves and disappeared below, leaving the
engineer to keep watch.
For awhile Tom sat listening to the clang of the inventor’s tools
as he refixed the damaged plates. He knew well that the job would be a
difficult one for Garth to carry out alone, yet his wounded arm
precluded him from assisting in the work. So, though he would far
rather have been below, plying wrench or hammer, he had perforce to
remain inactive.
Time dragged heavily. Outside nothing seemed stirring. Long since
he had given up hope that his friends would return. Doubtless by now,
if still alive, they were far away in the heart of this mysterious
underworld.
Suddenly a screech floated across the water, breaking in upon his
meditation.
“What’s that?” he muttered to himself, and striding to the door,
opened it cautiously, wondering what fresh attack the strange cry
heralded. Again it came, and at that he stepped out on deck, his
revolver ready for action.
Then through the gloom flashed some monstrous flying creature,
and Wilson fired almost point-blank at the swooping body. But a blow
from the creature’s wing knocked his weapon from his hand, and felled
him like a log to the deck. As he struggled to rise, the brute’s great
teeth fixed themselves in his shoulder; he was borne swiftly aloft,
his terrified cries for help falling vainly on the ears of Garth, who,
alarmed by the shot, came rushing up from below just in time to catch
a glimpse of the disappearing form of his friend.
For a time the unhappy engineer became unconscious, recovering
from one swoon only to fall into another. He remembered nothing of his
terrible journey; his mind was a complete blank until the shock of a
fall roused him, and he opened his eyes.
He was lying upon a carpet of spongy moss. Around, entirely
enclosing the spot where he lay, towered a forest of fungi. Of his
captor he could at first see nothing, and, thinking to make his escape
if the brute had vanished, he sat up and peered cautiously around.
Then, as his glance strayed upward, a shudder passed through his
frame.
Twenty feet above, his soaring wings almost grazing the topmost
branching arms of the fungi, hovered the great vampire. As the brute
noted the engineer’s movement, its savage eyes glared threateningly,
and Wilson subsided, trembling.
Still as death he lay waiting, wondering why the fearsome brute
did not at once attack him, instead of hovering there in mid-air. His
curiosity was quickly satisfied.
Like a flash a second vampire swooped into view and hurled itself
upon Wilson’s ghoulish guardian. In an instant the twain were fighting
tooth and nail, their mighty wings raising a deafening clamour.
Not a move dared the lad make, fearing that the great bats might
unite forces against him did they see him stirring. Round and round
the brutes circled, rocking, reeling in their frenzied efforts to
destroy each other. Now they sank until they were whirling but a few
feet above Wilson’s head; anon, they would soar into the gloom far
beyond his sight.
For an hour the duel raged, the creatures’ efforts growing
feebler as the time went on, while the crimson rain which sprinkled
down over the engineer bore grim testimony to the sanguinary nature of
the struggle.
Suddenly, with a shrill scream, one of the vampires pitched
heavily earthward. Its adversary swayed unsteadily for a moment, then
fluttered to the ground beside it.
In a second Tom was upon his feet. Knife in hand, he moved
towards his foes. One was already dead, and the other, too exhausted
to move and bleeding from a score of wounds, fell an easy prey to the
engineer’s weapon.
Feeling deeply thankful for his escape from a terrible death, the
lad stood looking down on the carcases for a few moments; then,
striding forward over the moss, he plunged through the encircling
fungi. As he emerged from the glistening growths a startled cry
escaped him.
The ground before him was thickly covered with bones!
At the sight of the ghastly relics his already overstrained
nerves almost gave way, but, exerting all his self-control, he pulled
himself together and strode down the valley, hoping ere long to regain
the coast.