"Now, I feel like eating again," spoke Andy, "We can take some of this back with us, and have a good meal on blasted meat. Whenever we get thirsty we'll have to make a trip back here for water."
The boys agreed with him. They examined the black pool. It appeared to be filled by hidden springs, though there was no bubbling, and the surface was as unruffled as a mirror. The liquid was not very inviting, being as black as ink, but the color appeared to be a sort of reflection, for when the water, if such it was, had been put into bottles it at once became clear, nor did it stain their faces or hands.
"Well, it's another queer thing in this queer moon," said Jack. "I wish the two professors could see this place. They'd have lots to write about."
"I wonder if we'll ever see them again?" asked Mark.
"Sure," replied Jack hopefully. "We'll fill our lunch baskets, take a lot of water along, and have another hunt for the projectile soon."
They did, but with no success. For several days more they lived in the petrified city, the meat encased in its block of stone, which Andy blasted from time to time, and the black water keeping them alive. From time to time they went out in the surrounding country, looking for the projectile. But they could not find the place where they had left it, nor could they find even the place where they had picked up the lost tool that had cost them so much suffering. They were more completely lost than ever. They crossed back and forth on the bridge over the crater chasm, and penetrated for many miles in a radius from that, marking their way by chipping off pieces of the rocky pinnacles, as they did not want to leave the petrified city behind.
From some peaks they caught glimpses of other towns that had fallen under the strange spell of the petrification. Some were larger and some smaller than the one they called "home."
Jack proposed visiting some of them, thinking they might find better food, but Mark and Andy decided it was best to stay where they were, as they were nearer the supposed location of the projectile.
"I think they'll manage to fix it up somehow, so it will move," said Andy, "and then they'll come to look for us. I hope it will be soon, though."
"Why?" asked Jack, struck by something in the tone of the old hunter.