“Gracious!” cried Marjorie, wringing her hands, “whatever is to be done?” While even Dick turned a little pale, for the poor creatures were by this time whirling around so quickly that one could scarcely be distinguished from the other.
Every now and then the poor Palæotherium might be heard screaming above the others, who were all calling out in their fright and alarm.
The Dodo left the engine, and came and stared at them.
“H’m!” he ejaculated. “I don’t know what’s to be done. If they don’t stop soon, I suppose we shall have to shoot them. It’s the only thing I can think of.”
“Shoot them!” exclaimed Dick, in a horrified voice.
“Well, what else is to be done, I should like to know? We can’t leave them here whirling around like that forever.”
“I should think,” suggested Dick, after vainly trying to push the lever back into its place himself, “that if we raked all the fuel out of the engine, it would probably stop of its own accord.”
“Ah! happy thought,” said the Dodo, and with all possible speed they set to work to carry out Dick’s suggestion.
They were delighted to find that after a time their project was successful, and the machinery gradually ceased to work, and at last stopped altogether.
The poor creatures looked more dead than alive as with pale faces they clung limply to the upright supports attached to each of the horses.