Bob took the rope, made a loop, and stepped as near as he thought possible with safety.
“If I miss my aim, I can’t help it,” the youth said, as he threw the lasso.
Joe cried out happily as he saw that the loop went directly over the mule’s head. Dr. Rander’s face also lightened.
All three pulled on the rope with all their strength, but their efforts appeared to be in vain. The treacherous bog had engulfed its helpless victim too tightly.
“We’ve got to get that animal out!” cried Joe, redoubling his efforts. “There’s a lot of valuable supplies on its back.”
But how? They were doing all they knew of. If that were not sufficient, the mule would have to go down.
“We’re losing steadily,” observed Bob grimly. “But I guess we can’t help it.”
Despite their furious efforts to draw the beast to safety, it was sinking rapidly. Already its body was nearly under. In but a brief time its head, too, would be engulfed.
But the adventurers kept up doggedly, determined to win the battle even though defeat was staring them in the face.
With one last effort, they gave the rope a new stronger pull. But it was not enough. The weight of the mule and its burden was too much, and the animal’s head slid horribly into the oozing mud, to disappear forever.