As it was, they dragged out a miserable existence, eating from time to time of the blasted meat. But even this palled on them after a while, for their lips were parched and cracked, and their tongues were swollen in their mouths.
"I can't stand this any longer!" cried Jack.
"What are you going to do?" asked Mark.
"Go out and look for water. There must be some in the country outside if there isn't any in this city. I'm going to have a look. Besides, if I'm going to die, I might as well die while I'm busy. I'm not going to sit here in this dreadful place and give up."
His words urged them to follow him, and, with lagging steps, for they were weak and faint, they went from the restaurant, which they had made their home since coming to the petrified city.
Out into the open fields they went, but their search seemed likely to be in vain. Between times of looking for the water they scanned the sky for a sight of the projectile, which, hoping against hope, they thought they might see hovering over them. But there was no sight of it.
They came to a vast, level plain, girt with mountains, a lonesome place, where there was no sign of life. Listlessly they walked over it.
Suddenly Andy, who was in the lead, uttered a cry and sprang forward. The boys ran to him, and found the old hunter gazing into the depths of a great black pool, which filled a depression in the surface of the moon. It was a small crater, and was filled, nearly to the top, with some black liquid, which gloomily reflected back the light of the sun.
"I'm going to have a drink!" cried Andy, and before the boys could stop him he threw himself face downward at the edge of the black pool.