The great, tawny beast gave a convulsive leap into the air, and toppled over on its back on the forward deck. Then it began a death struggle, which Nestor mercifully ended with another bullet.
The dead lion was thrown overboard on the sands, and the travelers congratulated themselves on coming so well out of the ordeal. Bob soon had supper in preparation, while Jerry remained in the engine room, planning work for the morrow. He looked to see how much water was left.
“Did you find any?” he asked of Nestor, in a low voice, so Bob, Ned and the professor would not hear. The miner shook his head.
Jerry’s hopes to have the engine in shape the next day were doomed to disappointment. Even with the new washers, there was a leak in the water-cooling system, and he knew he would not dare start as long as that trouble was not remedied.
“We’ll have to make an entirely new pipe to establish the connection,” he said to Bob and Ned, and they started that task. It was a hard one, but they finished it in two days.
“I think it will work now,” announced the tall lad, at the close of a hard afternoon of work. He tested it, and found the connections as tight as could be desired. Not a drop of water came out. The propellers were set in motion to try them, and worked satisfactorily. Then the gas machine was put in operation.
“Why are we going to rise to-night?” asked Bob, in some surprise. “Why don’t we stay here until morning?”
“Because,” was all the reason Jerry gave, but he looked long and anxiously at the water supply, as if calculating how long it would last.
They started off just as dusk was settling down, and the airship was headed across the desert. Many miles of it yet remained, and Jerry was fearful that before they reached the limits the supply of water would give out. Much was needed for the motor, and it evaporated quickly. Little could be left for drinking purposes, and it was necessary, at all costs, to keep the engine going.