For several days things went along in about the same course.I took our position every morning with my crude sextant; but theresults were always most unsatisfactory. They always showed aconsiderable westing when I knew that we had been sailing due north.I blamed my crude instrument, and kept on. Then one afternoon thegirl came to me.

"Pardon me," she said, "but were I you, I should watch this manBenson--especially when he is in charge." I asked her what shemeant, thinking I could see the influence of von Schoenvortsraising a suspicion against one of my most trusted men.

"If you will note the boat's course a half-hour after Benson goeson duty," she said, "you will know what I mean, and you willunderstand why he prefers a night watch. Possibly, too, you willunderstand some other things that have taken place aboard."

Then she went back to her room, thus ending the conversation.I waited until half an hour after Benson had gone on duty, and thenI went on deck, passing through the conning-tower where Benson sat,and looking at the compass. It showed that our course wasnorth by west--that is, one point west of north, which was, forour assumed position, about right. I was greatly relieved tofind that nothing was wrong, for the girl's words had caused meconsiderable apprehension. I was about to return to my room whena thought occurred to me that again caused me to change mymind--and, incidentally, came near proving my death-warrant.

When I had left the conning-tower little more than a half-hoursince, the sea had been breaking over the port bow, and it seemedto me quite improbable that in so short a time an equally heavysea could be deluging us from the opposite side of the ship--windsmay change quickly, but not a long, heavy sea. There was onlyone other solution--since I left the tower, our course had beenaltered some eight points. Turning quickly, I climbed out uponthe conning-tower. A single glance at the heavens confirmed mysuspicions; the constellations which should have been dead aheadwere directly starboard. We were sailing due west.

Just for an instant longer I stood there to check up mycalculations--I wanted to be quite sure before I accused Bensonof perfidy, and about the only thing I came near making quitesure of was death. I cannot see even now how I escaped it.I was standing on the edge of the conning-tower, when a heavypalm suddenly struck me between the shoulders and hurled meforward into space. The drop to the triangular deck forward ofthe conning-tower might easily have broken a leg for me, or Imight have slipped off onto the deck and rolled overboard; butfate was upon my side, as I was only slightly bruised. As Icame to my feet, I heard the conning-tower cover slam. There isa ladder which leads from the deck to the top of the tower.Up this I scrambled, as fast as I could go; but Benson hadthe cover tight before I reached it.

I stood there a moment in dumb consternation. What did thefellow intend? What was going on below? If Benson was a traitor,how could I know that there were not other traitors among us?I cursed myself for my folly in going out upon the deck, and thenthis thought suggested another--a hideous one: who was it thathad really been responsible for my being here?

Thinking to attract attention from inside the craft, I again randown the ladder and onto the small deck only to find that thesteel covers of the conning-tower windows were shut, and then Ileaned with my back against the tower and cursed myself for agullible idiot.

I glanced at the bow. The sea seemed to be getting heavier, forevery wave now washed completely over the lower deck. I watchedthem for a moment, and then a sudden chill pervaded my entire being.It was not the chill of wet clothing, or the dashing spray whichdrenched my face; no, it was the chill of the hand of death uponmy heart. In an instant I had turned the last corner of life'shighway and was looking God Almighty in the face--the U-33 wasbeing slowly submerged!

It would be difficult, even impossible, to set down in writingmy sensations at that moment. All I can particularly recallis that I laughed, though neither from a spirit of bravado norfrom hysteria. And I wanted to smoke. Lord! how I did want tosmoke; but that was out of the question.

I watched the water rise until the little deck I stood on was awash,and then I clambered once more to the top of the conning-tower.From the very slow submergence of the boat I knew that Benson wasdoing the entire trick alone--that he was merely permitting thediving-tanks to fill and that the diving-rudders were not in use.The throbbing of the engines ceased, and in its stead came thesteady vibration of the electric motors. The water was halfwayup the conning-tower! I had perhaps five minutes longer on the deck.I tried to decide what I should do after I was washed away. Should Iswim until exhaustion claimed me, or should I give up and end theagony at the first plunge?

From below came two muffled reports. They sounded not unlike shots.Was Benson meeting with resistance? Personally it could mean littleto me, for even though my men might overcome the enemy, none wouldknow of my predicament until long after it was too late to succor me.The top of the conning-tower was now awash. I clung to the wirelessmast, while the great waves surged sometimes completely over me.

I knew the end was near and, almost involuntarily, I did thatwhich I had not done since childhood--I prayed. After that Ifelt better.

I clung and waited, but the water rose no higher.

Instead it receded. Now the top of the conning-tower receivedonly the crests of the higher waves; now the little triangulardeck below became visible! What had occurred within? Did Bensonbelieve me already gone, and was he emerging because of thatbelief, or had he and his forces been vanquished? The suspensewas more wearing than that which I had endured while waitingfor dissolution. Presently the main deck came into view, andthen the conning-tower opened behind me, and I turned to lookinto the anxious face of Bradley. An expression of reliefoverspread his features.

"Thank God, man!" was all he said as he reached forth and draggedme into the tower. I was cold and numb and rather all in.Another few minutes would have done for me, I am sure, but thewarmth of the interior helped to revive me, aided and abetted bysome brandy which Bradley poured down my throat, from which itnearly removed the membrane. That brandy would have revived a corpse.

When I got down into the centrale, I saw the Germans lined up onone side with a couple of my men with pistols standing over them.Von Schoenvorts was among them. On the floor lay Benson,moaning, and beyond him stood the girl, a revolver in one hand.I looked about, bewildered.

"What has happened down here?" I asked. "Tell me!"

Bradley replied. "You see the result, sir," he said. "It mighthave been a very different result but for Miss La Rue. We wereall asleep. Benson had relieved the guard early in the evening;there was no one to watch him--no one but Miss La Rue. She feltthe submergence of the boat and came out of her room to investigate.She was just in time to see Benson at the diving rudders. When hesaw her, he raised his pistol and fired point-blank at her, but hemissed and she fired--and didn't miss. The two shots awakenedeveryone, and as our men were armed, the result was inevitable asyou see it; but it would have been very different had it not beenfor Miss La Rue. It was she who closed the diving-tank sea-cocksand roused Olson and me, and had the pumps started to empty them."

And there I had been thinking that through her machinations I hadbeen lured to the deck and to my death! I could have gone on myknees to her and begged her forgiveness--or at least I couldhave, had I not been Anglo-Saxon. As it was, I could only removemy soggy cap and bow and mumble my appreciation. She made noreply--only turned and walked very rapidly toward her room.Could I have heard aright? Was it really a sob that came floatingback to me through the narrow aisle of the U-33?

Benson died that night. He remained defiant almost to the last;but just before he went out, he motioned to me, and I leaned overto catch the faintly whispered words.

"I did it alone," he said. "I did it because I hate you--I hateall your kind. I was kicked out of your shipyard at Santa Monica.I was locked out of California. I am an I. W. W. I became a Germanagent--not because I love them, for I hate them too--but becauseI wanted to injure Americans, whom I hated more. I threw thewireless apparatus overboard. I destroyed the chronometer andthe sextant. I devised a scheme for varying the compass to suitmy wishes. I told Wilson that I had seen the girl talking withvon Schoenvorts, and I made the poor egg think he had seen herdoing the same thing. I am sorry--sorry that my plans failed.I hate you."

He didn't die for a half-hour after that; nor did he speakagain--aloud; but just a few seconds before he went to meet hisMaker, his lips moved in a faint whisper; and as I leaned closerto catch his words, what do you suppose I heard? "Now--I--layme--down--to--sleep" That was all; Benson was dead. We threw hisbody overboard.

The wind of that night brought on some pretty rough weather witha lot of black clouds which persisted for several days. We didn'tknow what course we had been holding, and there was no way offinding out, as we could no longer trust the compass, not knowingwhat Benson had done to it. The long and the short of it was thatwe cruised about aimlessly until the sun came out again. I'll neverforget that day or its surprises. We reckoned, or rather guessed,that we were somewhere off the coast of Peru. The wind, which hadbeen blowing fitfully from the east, suddenly veered around intothe south, and presently we felt a sudden chill.

"Peru!" snorted Olson. "When were yez after smellin' iceber-rgsoff Peru?"

Icebergs! "Icebergs, nothin'!" exclaimed one of the Englishmen."Why, man, they don't come north of fourteen here in these waters."

"Then," replied Olson, "ye're sout' of fourteen, me b'y."

We thought he was crazy; but he wasn't, for that afternoon wesighted a great berg south of us, and we'd been running north, wethought, for days. I can tell you we were a discouraged lot; but wegot a faint thrill of hope early the next morning when the lookoutbawled down the open hatch: "Land! Land northwest by west!"

I think we were all sick for the sight of land. I know that I was;but my interest was quickly dissipated by the sudden illness ofthree of the Germans. Almost simultaneously they commenced vomiting.They couldn't suggest any explanation for it. I asked them whatthey had eaten, and found they had eaten nothing other than thefood cooked for all of us. "Have you drunk anything?" I asked,for I knew that there was liquor aboard, and medicines in thesame locker.

"Only water," moaned one of them. "We all drank water togetherthis morning. We opened a new tank. Maybe it was the water."

I started an investigation which revealed a terrifying condition--some one, probably Benson, had poisoned all the running water onthe ship. It would have been worse, though, had land not beenin sight. The sight of land filled us with renewed hope.

Our course had been altered, and we were rapidly approaching whatappeared to be a precipitous headland. Cliffs, seemingly risingperpendicularly out of the sea, faded away into the mist upon eitherhand as we approached. The land before us might have been a continent,so mighty appeared the shoreline; yet we knew that we must bethousands of miles from the nearest western land-mass--New Zealandor Australia.

We took our bearings with our crude and inaccurate instruments;we searched the chart; we cudgeled our brains; and at last it wasBradley who suggested a solution. He was in the tower andwatching the compass, to which he called my attention. The needlewas pointing straight toward the land. Bradley swung the helmhard to starboard. I could feel the U-33 respond, and yet thearrow still clung straight and sure toward the distant cliffs.

"What do you make of it?" I asked him.

"Did you ever hear of Caproni?" he asked.

"An early Italian navigator?" I returned.

"Yes; he followed Cook about 1721. He is scarcely mentioned evenby contemporaneous historians--probably because he got intopolitical difficulties on his return to Italy. It was thefashion to scoff at his claims, but I recall reading one of hisworks--his only one, I believe--in which he described a newcontinent in the south seas, a continent made up of `some strangemetal' which attracted the compass; a rockbound, inhospitable coast,without beach or harbor, which extended for hundreds of miles.He could make no landing; nor in the several days he cruised aboutit did he see sign of life. He called it Caprona and sailed away.I believe, sir, that we are looking upon the coast of Caprona,uncharted and forgotten for two hundred years."

"If you are right, it might account for much of the deviation ofthe compass during the past two days," I suggested. "Capronahas been luring us upon her deadly rocks. Well, we'll accepther challenge. We'll land upon Caprona. Along that long frontthere must be a vulnerable spot. We will find it, Bradley, forwe must find it. We must find water on Caprona, or we must die."

And so we approached the coast upon which no living eyes hadever rested. Straight from the ocean's depths rose toweringcliffs, shot with brown and blues and greens--withered mossand lichen and the verdigris of copper, and everywhere therusty ocher of iron pyrites. The cliff-tops, though ragged,were of such uniform height as to suggest the boundaries ofa great plateau, and now and again we caught glimpses of verduretopping the rocky escarpment, as though bush or jungle-land hadpushed outward from a lush vegetation farther inland to signalto an unseeing world that Caprona lived and joyed in life beyondher austere and repellent coast.

But metaphor, however poetic, never slaked a dry throat.To enjoy Caprona's romantic suggestions we must have water,and so we came in close, always sounding, and skirted the shore.As close in as we dared cruise, we found fathomless depths, andalways the same undented coastline of bald cliffs. As darknessthreatened, we drew away and lay well off the coast all night.We had not as yet really commenced to suffer for lack of water;but I knew that it would not be long before we did, and so at thefirst streak of dawn I moved in again and once more took up thehopeless survey of the forbidding coast.

Toward noon we discovered a beach, the first we had seen. It wasa narrow strip of sand at the base of a part of the cliff thatseemed lower than any we had before scanned. At its foot, halfburied in the sand, lay great boulders, mute evidence that in abygone age some mighty natural force had crumpled Caprona'sbarrier at this point. It was Bradley who first called ourattention to a strange object lying among the boulders abovethe surf.

"Looks like a man," he said, and passed his glasses to me.

I looked long and carefully and could have sworn that the thingI saw was the sprawled figure of a human being. Miss La Rue wason deck with us. I turned and asked her to go below. Without aword she did as I bade. Then I stripped, and as I did so, Nobslooked questioningly at me. He had been wont at home to enterthe surf with me, and evidently he had not forgotten it.

"What are you going to do, sir?" asked Olson.

"I'm going to see what that thing is on shore," I replied."If it's a man, it may mean that Caprona is inhabited, or itmay merely mean that some poor devils were shipwrecked here.I ought to be able to tell from the clothing which is morenear the truth.

"How about sharks?" queried Olson. "Sure, you ought to carry a knoife."

"Here you are, sir," cried one of the men.

It was a long slim blade he offered--one that I could carrybetween my teeth--and so I accepted it gladly.

"Keep close in," I directed Bradley, and then I dived over theside and struck out for the narrow beach. There was anothersplash directly behind me, and turning my head, I saw faithfulold Nobs swimming valiantly in my wake.

The surf was not heavy, and there was no undertow, so we madeshore easily, effecting an equally easy landing. The beachwas composed largely of small stones worn smooth by the actionof water. There was little sand, though from the deck of the U-33the beach had appeared to be all sand, and I saw no evidences ofmollusca or crustacea such as are common to all beaches I havepreviously seen. I attribute this to the fact of the smallnessof the beach, the enormous depth of surrounding water and thegreat distance at which Caprona lies from her nearest neighbor.

As Nobs and I approached the recumbent figure farther up thebeach, I was appraised by my nose that whether or not, the thinghad once been organic and alive, but that for some time it hadbeen dead. Nobs halted, sniffed and growled. A little later hesat down upon his haunches, raised his muzzle to the heavens andbayed forth a most dismal howl. I shied a small stone at him andbade him shut up--his uncanny noise made me nervous. When I hadcome quite close to the thing, I still could not say whether ithad been man or beast. The carcass was badly swollen andpartly decomposed. There was no sign of clothing upon orabout it. A fine, brownish hair covered the chest and abdomen,and the face, the palms of the hands, the feet, the shoulders andback were practically hairless. The creature must have beenabout the height of a fair sized man; its features were similarto those of a man; yet had it been a man?

I could not say, for it resembled an ape no more than it dida man. Its large toes protruded laterally as do those of thesemiarboreal peoples of Borneo, the Philippines and other remoteregions where low types still persist. The countenance mighthave been that of a cross between Pithecanthropus, the Javaape-man, and a daughter of the Piltdown race of prehistoric Sussex.A wooden cudgel lay beside the corpse.

Now this fact set me thinking. There was no wood of anydescription in sight. There was nothing about the beach tosuggest a wrecked mariner. There was absolutely nothing aboutthe body to suggest that it might possibly in life have known amaritime experience. It was the body of a low type of man or ahigh type of beast. In neither instance would it have been of aseafaring race. Therefore I deduced that it was native toCaprona--that it lived inland, and that it had fallen or beenhurled from the cliffs above. Such being the case, Caprona wasinhabitable, if not inhabited, by man; but how to reach theinhabitable interior! That was the question. A closer viewof the cliffs than had been afforded me from the deck of theU-33 only confirmed my conviction that no mortal man could scalethose perpendicular heights; there was not a finger-hold, not atoe-hold, upon them. I turned away baffled.

Nobs and I met with no sharks upon our return journey tothe submarine. My report filled everyone with theories andspeculations, and with renewed hope and determination. They allreasoned along the same lines that I had reasoned--theconclusions were obvious, but not the water. We were nowthirstier than ever.

The balance of that day we spent in continuing a minute andfruitless exploration of the monotonous coast. There was notanother break in the frowning cliffs--not even another minutepatch of pebbly beach. As the sun fell, so did our spirits.I had tried to make advances to the girl again; but she wouldhave none of me, and so I was not only thirsty but otherwise sadand downhearted. I was glad when the new day broke the hideousspell of a sleepless night.

The morning's search brought us no shred of hope. Caprona wasimpregnable--that was the decision of all; yet we kept on. It musthave been about two bells of the afternoon watch that Bradley calledmy attention to the branch of a tree, with leaves upon it, floatingon the sea. "It may have been carried down to the ocean by a river,"he suggested."Yes, " I replied, "it may have; it may have tumbled or been thrownoff the top of one of these cliffs."

Bradley's face fell. "I thought of that, too," he replied, "butI wanted to believe the other."

"Right you are!" I cried. "We must believe the other until weprove it false. We can't afford to give up heart now, when weneed heart most. The branch was carried down by a river, and weare going to find that river." I smote my open palm with aclenched fist, to emphasize a determination unsupported by hope."There!" I cried suddenly. "See that, Bradley?" And I pointed ata spot closer to shore. "See that, man!" Some flowers andgrasses and another leafy branch floated toward us. We bothscanned the water and the coastline. Bradley evidentlydiscovered something, or at least thought that he had. He calleddown for a bucket and a rope, and when they were passed up tohim, he lowered the former into the sea and drew it in filledwith water. Of this he took a taste, and straightening up,looked into my eyes with an expression of elation--as much as tosay "I told you so!"

"This water is warm," he announced, "and fresh!"

I grabbed the bucket and tasted its contents. The water was verywarm, and it was fresh, but there was a most unpleasant taste to it.

"Did you ever taste water from a stagnant pool full of tadpoles?"Bradley asked.

"That's it," I exclaimed, "--that's just the taste exactly,though I haven't experienced it since boyhood; but how can waterfrom a flowing stream, taste thus, and what the dickens makes itso warm? It must be at least 70 or 80 Fahrenheit, possibly higher."

"Yes," agreed Bradley, "I should say higher; but where does itcome from?"

"That is easily discovered now that we have found it," I answered."It can't come from the ocean; so it must come from the land.All that we have to do is follow it, and sooner or later we shallcome upon its source."

We were already rather close in; but I ordered the U-33's prowturned inshore and we crept slowly along, constantly dipping upthe water and tasting it to assure ourselves that we didn't getoutside the fresh-water current. There was a very light off-shorewind and scarcely any breakers, so that the approach to the shorewas continued without finding bottom; yet though we were alreadyquite close, we saw no indication of any indention in the coastfrom which even a tiny brooklet might issue, and certainly nomouth of a large river such as this must necessarily be to freshenthe ocean even two hundred yards from shore. The tide was runningout, and this, together with the strong flow of the freshwatercurrent, would have prevented our going against the cliffs evenhad we not been under power; as it was we had to buck the combinedforces in order to hold our position at all. We came up to withintwenty-five feet of the sheer wall, which loomed high above us.There was no break in its forbidding face. As we watched the faceof the waters and searched the cliff's high face, Olson suggestedthat the fresh water might come from a submarine geyser. This, hesaid, would account for its heat; but even as he spoke a bush,covered thickly with leaves and flowers, bubbled to the surfaceand floated off astern.

"Flowering shrubs don't thrive in the subterranean caverns fromwhich geysers spring," suggested Bradley.

Olson shook his head. "It beats me," he said.

"I've got it!" I exclaimed suddenly. "Look there!" And I pointedat the base of the cliff ahead of us, which the receding tide wasgradually exposing to our view. They all looked, and all sawwhat I had seen--the top of a dark opening in the rock, throughwhich water was pouring out into the sea. "It's the subterraneanchannel of an inland river," I cried. "It flows through a landcovered with vegetation--and therefore a land upon which thesun shines. No subterranean caverns produce any order of plantlife even remotely resembling what we have seen disgorged bythis river. Beyond those cliffs lie fertile lands and freshwater--perhaps, game!"

"Yis, sir," said Olson, "behoind the cliffs! Ye spoke a trueword, sir--behoind!"

Bradley laughed--a rather sorry laugh, though. "You might aswell call our attention to the fact, sir," he said, "that sciencehas indicated that there is fresh water and vegetation on Mars."

"Not at all," I rejoined. "A U-boat isn't constructed to navigatespace, but it is designed to travel below the surface of the water."

"You'd be after sailin' into that blank pocket?" asked Olson.

"I would, Olson," I replied. "We haven't one chance for life ina hundred thousand if we don't find food and water upon Caprona.This water coming out of the cliff is not salt; but neither is itfit to drink, though each of us has drunk. It is fair to assumethat inland the river is fed by pure streams, that there arefruits and herbs and game. Shall we lie out here and die ofthirst and starvation with a land of plenty possibly only a fewhundred yards away? We have the means for navigating asubterranean river. Are we too cowardly to utilize this means?"

"Be afther goin' to it," said Olson.

"I'm willing to see it through," agreed Bradley.

"Then under the bottom, wi' the best o' luck an' give 'em hell!"cried a young fellow who had been in the trenches.

"To the diving-stations!" I commanded, and in less than a minutethe deck was deserted, the conning-tower covers had slammed toand the U-33 was submerging--possibly for the last time. I knowthat I had this feeling, and I think that most of the others did.

As we went down, I sat in the tower with the searchlightprojecting its seemingly feeble rays ahead. We submerged veryslowly and without headway more than sufficient to keep her nosein the right direction, and as we went down, I saw outlined aheadof us the black opening in the great cliff. It was an openingthat would have admitted a half-dozen U-boats at one and the sametime, roughly cylindrical in contour--and dark as the pit of perdition.

As I gave the command which sent the U-33 slowly ahead, I couldnot but feel a certain uncanny presentiment of evil. Where werewe going? What lay at the end of this great sewer? Had we biddenfarewell forever to the sunlight and life, or were there beforeus dangers even greater than those which we now faced? I tried tokeep my mind from vain imagining by calling everything which Iobserved to the eager ears below. I was the eyes of the wholecompany, and I did my best not to fail them. We had advanced ahundred yards, perhaps, when our first danger confronted us.Just ahead was a sharp right-angle turn in the tunnel. I couldsee the river's flotsam hurtling against the rocky wall upon theleft as it was driven on by the mighty current, and I feared forthe safety of the U-33 in making so sharp a turn under suchadverse conditions; but there was nothing for it but to try.I didn't warn my fellows of the danger--it could have but causedthem useless apprehension, for if we were to be smashed againstthe rocky wall, no power on earth could avert the quick end thatwould come to us. I gave the command full speed ahead and wentcharging toward the menace. I was forced to approach thedangerous left-hand wall in order to make the turn, and Idepended upon the power of the motors to carry us through thesurging waters in safety. Well, we made it; but it was anarrow squeak. As we swung around, the full force of the currentcaught us and drove the stern against the rocks; there was a thudwhich sent a tremor through the whole craft, and then a moment ofnasty grinding as the steel hull scraped the rock wall. I expectedmomentarily the inrush of waters that would seal our doom; butpresently from below came the welcome word that all was well.

In another fifty yards there was a second turn, this time towardthe left! but it was more of a gentle curve, and we took itwithout trouble. After that it was plain sailing, though as faras I could know, there might be most anything ahead of us, and mynerves strained to the snapping-point every instant. After thesecond turn the channel ran comparatively straight for betweenone hundred and fifty and two hundred yards. The waters grewsuddenly lighter, and my spirits rose accordingly. I shouteddown to those below that I saw daylight ahead, and a great shoutof thanksgiving reverberated through the ship. A moment later weemerged into sunlit water, and immediately I raised the periscopeand looked about me upon the strangest landscape I had ever seen.

We were in the middle of a broad and now sluggish river the banksof which were lined by giant, arboraceous ferns, raising theirmighty fronds fifty, one hundred, two hundred feet into thequiet air. Close by us something rose to the surface of the riverand dashed at the periscope. I had a vision of wide, distended jaws,and then all was blotted out. A shiver ran down into the tower asthe thing closed upon the periscope. A moment later it was gone,and I could see again. Above the trees there soared into my visiona huge thing on batlike wings--a creature large as a large whale,but fashioned more after the order of a lizard. Then againsomething charged the periscope and blotted out the mirror. I willconfess that I was almost gasping for breath as I gave the commandsto emerge. Into what sort of strange land had fate guided us?

The instant the deck was awash, I opened the conning-tower hatchand stepped out. In another minute the deck-hatch lifted, andthose who were not on duty below streamed up the ladder, Olsonbringing Nobs under one arm. For several minutes no one spoke;I think they must each have been as overcome by awe as was I.All about us was a flora and fauna as strange and wonderful to usas might have been those upon a distant planet had we suddenlybeen miraculously transported through ether to an unknown world.Even the grass upon the nearer bank was unearthly--lush and highit grew, and each blade bore upon its tip a brilliant flower--violet or yellow or carmine or blue--making as gorgeous a swardas human imagination might conceive. But the life! It teemed.The tall, fernlike trees were alive with monkeys, snakes, and lizards.Huge insects hummed and buzzed hither and thither. Mighty formscould be seen moving upon the ground in the thick forest, whilethe bosom of the river wriggled with living things, and aboveflapped the wings of gigantic creatures such as we are taught havebeen extinct throughout countless ages.

"Look!" cried Olson. "Would you look at the giraffe comin' upout o' the bottom of the say?" We looked in the direction hepointed and saw a long, glossy neck surmounted by a small headrising above the surface of the river. Presently the back of thecreature was exposed, brown and glossy as the water dripped from it.It turned its eyes upon us, opened its lizard-like mouth, emitteda shrill hiss and came for us. The thing must have been sixteenor eighteen feet in length and closely resembled pictures I hadseen of restored plesiosaurs of the lower Jurassic. It chargedus as savagely as a mad bull, and one would have thought itintended to destroy and devour the mighty U-boat, as I verilybelieve it did intend.

We were moving slowly up the river as the creature bore down uponus with distended jaws. The long neck was far outstretched, andthe four flippers with which it swam were working with powerfulstrokes, carrying it forward at a rapid pace. When it reachedthe craft's side, the jaws closed upon one of the stanchions ofthe deck rail and tore it from its socket as though it had beena toothpick stuck in putty. At this exhibition of titanicstrength I think we all simultaneously stepped backward, andBradley drew his revolver and fired. The bullet struck the thingin the neck, just above its body; but instead of disabling it,merely increased its rage. Its hissing rose to a shrill screamas it raised half its body out of water onto the sloping sides ofthe hull of the U-33 and endeavored to scramble upon the deck todevour us. A dozen shots rang out as we who were armed drew ourpistols and fired at the thing; but though struck several times,it showed no signs of succumbing and only floundered fartheraboard the submarine.

I had noticed that the girl had come on deck and was standing notfar behind me, and when I saw the danger to which we were allexposed, I turned and forced her toward the hatch. We had notspoken for some days, and we did not speak now; but she gave mea disdainful look, which was quite as eloquent as words, andbroke loose from my grasp. I saw I could do nothing with herunless I exerted force, and so I turned with my back toward herthat I might be in a position to shield her from the strangereptile should it really succeed in reaching the deck; and as Idid so I saw the thing raise one flipper over the rail, dart itshead forward and with the quickness of lightning seize upon oneof the boches. I ran forward, discharging my pistol into thecreature's body in an effort to force it to relinquish its prey;but I might as profitably have shot at the sun.

Shrieking and screaming, the German was dragged from the deck,and the moment the reptile was clear of the boat, it divedbeneath the surface of the water with its terrified prey.I think we were all more or less shaken by the frightfulness othe tragedy--until Olson remarked that the balance of power nowrested where it belonged. Following the death of Benson we hadbeen nine and nine--nine Germans and nine "Allies," as we calledourselves, now there were but eight Germans. We never countedthe girl on either side, I suppose because she was a girl, thoughwe knew well enough now that she was ours.

And so Olson's remark helped to clear the atmosphere for theAllies at least, and then our attention was once more directedtoward the river, for around us there had sprung up a perfectbedlam of screams and hisses and a seething caldron of hideousreptiles, devoid of fear and filled only with hunger and with rage.They clambered, squirmed and wriggled to the deck, forcingus steadily backward, though we emptied our pistols into them.There were all sorts and conditions of horrible things--huge,hideous, grotesque, monstrous--a veritable Mesozoic nightmare.I saw that the girl was gotten below as quickly as possible, andshe took Nobs with her--poor Nobs had nearly barked his head off;and I think, too, that for the first time since his littlestpuppyhood he had known fear; nor can I blame him. After the girlI sent Bradley and most of the Allies and then the Germans whowere on deck--von Schoenvorts being still in irons below.

The creatures were approaching perilously close before I droppedthrough the hatchway and slammed down the cover. Then I wentinto the tower and ordered full speed ahead, hoping to distancethe fearsome things; but it was useless. Not only could any ofthem easily outdistance the U-33, but the further upstream weprogressed the greater the number of our besiegers, until fearfulof navigating a strange river at high speed, I gave orders toreduce and moved slowly and majestically through the plunging,hissing mass. I was mighty glad that our entrance into theinterior of Caprona had been inside a submarine rather than inany other form of vessel. I could readily understand how itmight have been that Caprona had been invaded in the past byventuresome navigators without word of it ever reaching theoutside world, for I can assure you that only by submarine couldman pass up that great sluggish river, alive.

We proceeded up the river for some forty miles before darknessovertook us. I was afraid to submerge and lie on the bottomovernight for fear that the mud might be deep enough to hold us,and as we could not hold with the anchor, I ran in close toshore, and in a brief interim of attack from the reptiles we madefast to a large tree. We also dipped up some of the river waterand found it, though quite warm, a little sweeter than before.We had food enough, and with the water we were all quiterefreshed; but we missed fresh meat. It had been weeks, now,since we had tasted it, and the sight of the reptiles gave mean idea--that a steak or two from one of them might not bebad eating. So I went on deck with a rifle, twenty of which wereaboard the U-33. At sight of me a huge thing charged and climbedto the deck. I retreated to the top of the conning-tower, andwhen it had raised its mighty bulk to the level of the little deckon which I stood, I let it have a bullet right between the eyes.

The thing stopped then and looked at me a moment as much as tosay: "Why this thing has a stinger! I must be careful." And thenit reached out its long neck and opened its mighty jaws and grabbedfor me; but I wasn't there. I had tumbled backward into the tower,and I mighty near killed myself doing it. When I glanced up, thatlittle head on the end of its long neck was coming straight down ontop of me, and once more I tumbled into greater safety, sprawlingupon the floor of the centrale.

Olson was looking up, and seeing what was poking about in thetower, ran for an ax; nor did he hesitate a moment when hereturned with one, but sprang up the ladder and commencedchopping away at that hideous face. The thing didn't havesufficient brainpan to entertain more than a single idea at once.Though chopped and hacked, and with a bullethole between itseyes, it still persisted madly in its attempt to get inside thetower and devour Olson, though its body was many times thediameter of the hatch; nor did it cease its efforts until afterOlson had succeeded in decapitating it. Then the two men went ondeck through the main hatch, and while one kept watch, the othercut a hind quarter off Plesiosaurus Olsoni, as Bradley dubbedthe thing. Meantime Olson cut off the long neck, saying that itwould make fine soup. By the time we had cleared away the bloodand refuse in the tower, the cook had juicy steaks and a steamingbroth upon the electric stove, and the aroma arising from P. Olsonifilled us an with a hitherto unfelt admiration for him and all his kind.