“Something like it, I guess,” said Jack. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a clump of young iron-wood trees. I’ve read about them. The wood is so heavy that it won’t float, and too tough to cut.”
“No doubt of that,” said Dick with conviction.
Leaving the iron-wood trees, they made their way a little further into the twilight jungle, and before long found some trees that looked more promising. On testing, these were found to cut easily and soon all three axes were busy felling them and cutting them into lengths easy for transportation.
Jack, too, discovered some dead timber that would make good kindling wood. It was not long before each boy had a good pile of fuel at his feet.
“I guess that’s enough,” said Jack, calling a halt. “We’ll be getting back to camp. Hullo! what’s the trouble now?”
Through the woods had come a loud shout in a frightened, agitated voice.
“Another of those sea-cows,” ventured Dick, “or maybe a sea-bull.”
“No! Hark! It’s the professor!” shouted Jack, as another cry came to them.
“Ach du lieber! Help! Blitzen! Help!”
“Gracious, the professor is in serious trouble of some kind! Come on, boys, this way!” cried Jack, and he dashed off in the direction from which the frantic appeals had come, followed by the other two lads.