“It won’t do to stop, I see that,” murmured Jack. “Ugh! what kind of a mushy mess have I got into?”
Jack looked down at his feet. They had sunk into the sand and were covered to the ankles. With the greatest difficulty he pulled out one foot.
The instant he put it down again in a new spot, however, it sank afresh. He released the other. This threw his weight on a single foot, which went down half way to the knee.
It was not ten feet to the bank of the ravine. Jack lost all interest in the ocelot as he thrilled at a startling discovery.
“Quicksand!” he breathed hastily. “There is not a moment to lose!”
Our hero tugged to get the sunken foot free. He succeeded. Then, half-dancing about, he threw himself flat.
His idea was to make a hurried scramble for the bank on hands and knees. But he uttered a cry of the greatest alarm as his hands went down into the treacherous mass clear to the wrists.
It took a great effort to get upright again. By the time he had done so, Jack realized that he was in a most serious and critical situation.
He was sunk now clear to the knees in a weaving, shifting mass. It circled his imprisoned limbs like great moving ropes, pulling him downward with a suction force that was tremendous.
The youth uttered a grasp of real horror. He could not budge either limb. As he sank to the thighs, he gave himself up for lost.