"I vote we take the heart," said Ayrault, "and cook it, since otherwise the mammoth will be devoured before our eyes."
While Bearwarden and Ayrault delved for this, Cortlandt, with some difficulty, parted the mammoth's lips and examined the teeth. "From the conical projections on the molars," said he, "this should be classed rather as a mastodon than as a mammoth."
When the huge heart was secured, Bearwarden arranged slices on sharpened sticks, while Ayrault set about starting a fire. He had to use Cortlandt's gun to clear the dry wood of snakes, which, attracted doubtless by the dead mastodon, came in such numbers that they covered the ground, while huge pterodactyls, more venomous-looking than the reptiles, hovered about the opening above.
Arranging a double line of electric wires in a circle about the mastodon and themselves, they sat down and did justice to the meal, with appetites that might have dismayed the waiting throng. Whenever a snake's head came in contact with one wire, while his tail touched the other, he gave a spasmodic leap and fell back dead. If he happened to fall across the wires, he immediately began to sizzle, a cloud of smoke arose, and lie was reduced to ashes.
"Any time that we are short of mastodon or other good game," said Ayrault, "we need not hunger if we are not above grilled snake."
All laughed at this, and Bearwarden, drawing a whiskey-flask from his pocket, passed it to his friends.
"When we rig our fishing-tackle," he continued, "and have fresh fish for dinner, an entree of rattlesnake, roast mastodon for the piece de resistance, and begin the whole with turtle soup and clams, of which there must be plenty on the ocean beach, we shall want to stay here the rest of our lives."
"I suspect we shall have to," replied Ayrault "for we shall become so like Thanksgiving turkeys that the Callisto's door will be too small for us."
While they sat and talked, the flowers and plants about them softly began their song, and, as a visual accompaniment, the fire-flies they had not before noticed twinkled through the forest.
"My goodness!" exclaimed Cortlandt, "how time goes here! We started to get breakfast, and now it's growing dark."