Looking down to see what had tripped him he saw a long thin pole, straight as a lance. It had once been a tree limb, but all the branches were stripped off.

"Now if I only had an iron point for that," Andy thought. Then he recollected the knife in his hand.

"The very thing," he remarked aloud, the words sounding startlingly loud in the confinement of the copper helmet. "If I only had something to fasten the knife on the pole I could make a spear to attack the octupus."

Then he saw long streamers of sea weed growing up from the ocean bed.

They were very tough, a kind of wirey gra.s.s that was as strong as rope.

Andy cut several streamers and, with a hunter's skill bound the knife to the end of the staff.

Now he had a weapon formidable enough to venture in and give battle to the monster. He hesitated no longer, fearing that even the short delay might have been too much and that the boys were dead. He entered the cave. At first he could perceive nothing for it was quite dark. Then, as his eyes became used to the gloom, which the lamp in his helmet faintly illuminated, he saw, far back in the rear, the horrible octupus.

Two dark objects, around which were wrapped several folds of the terrible arms, Andy guessed to be Mark and Jack, and when he was a faint glow coming from them he was sure they were the boys, the gleams coming from the lamps in their helmets.

Warily the hunter approached the creature. If he had hoped to take it unawares he was disappointed, for, when he had come within ten feet, holding his improvised lance outstretched ready for a deadly thrust, the creature shot out two long arms toward Andy.

Now the battle began. The snake-like feelers, armed with big saucer shaped suckers, lashed about in the water, seeking to clasp the hunter in their deadly embrace. But Andy, who had fought many kinds of wild animals on land, did not lose his presence of mind in confronting this beast of the sea.

Nimbly, in spite of the handicap of the heavy diving suit, Andy dodged the arms. Watching his chance he thrust at one, and the sharp knife severed the end. But another arm shot out, while the wounded one was drawn in, and the battle was as much against the old hunter as before.

Once more he thrust his lance, and this time he severed one of the arms close to the ugly body. The creature, in its rage and pain, redoubled its efforts to clasp Andy.

The hunter decided to try to get to closer quarters where he could use his spear on the body of the beast. He stooped down and wiggled along on the bottom of the cave. But the creature saw him, and darted an arm out to pull the old man in. Andy squirmed to one side, and then, being as close as he desired, he rose to his feet and, drawing back the pole thrust it with all his force straight at the centre of the whitish-yellow body that was like a horrible lump of soft fat directly in front of him.

At the first touch of the knife the creature squirted out an inky substance that made the water about it as black as night. Andy could not see, but he could feel that the lance was still in the body. He pulled it back a little and thrust again and again, turning it around to enlarge the wound he had made.

Then, what he had feared all along happened. Two of the creatures arms found him, and he felt the terrible pressure as they wound themselves about him, the sucker-plates clinging fast. Yet in it all he did not lose his presence of mind, nor did he let go of the pole.

Tighter and tighter the arms clasped him. He struggled with all his strength but he was in a grip more powerful than that of a boa constrictor. Suddenly the pole he was holding snapped off. He let go the useless end and pulled the shorter part, to which the knife was bound, toward him. Andy felt his senses beginning to leave him, but he determined to make one more effort.

One hand was free, that holding the knife. With his last remaining strength he cut and slashed at the arms of the creature that were clasped about him.

Again and again he stuck the blade into the gristle like substance.

Could he win? Could he save his own life, to say nothing of that of the two boys?

The creature was lashing about now so that the water was a ma.s.s of black foam. The ink-color was beginning to fade away. Andy could dimly observe the horrible front of the octupus, and see the wound his lance had made.

Then all seemed to grow dark again. He dimly remembered trying to thrust the knife into one of the saucer-shaped eyes, and then of a sudden his senses left him.

When Andy came to his senses he found himself lying on the ocean bed just outside the cave. About him stood the professor, Washington, Tom and Bill. His head buzzed and he felt weak, but he knew he was uninjured, and that his diving suit had not been punctured in the fight with the octupus, for he could feel the fresh air entering from the tank at the back of his helmet.

Were the boys killed, Andy wondered. Had his fight to save them been in vain? He managed to stand up, and then, to his relief he saw Mark and Jack standing behind Tom and Bill. The boys seemed weak but otherwise uninjured.

The professor motioned to know if Andy could walk and the old hunter soon demonstrated that he could by stepping forward. Then the party proceeded slowly to the ship.

Little time was lost by each one in divesting himself of his diving suit as soon as they had left the water chamber. The first thing Andy asked when his helmet was off, was:

"Did I kill the beast?"

"Indeed you did," replied the professor. "And just in time, too. You were about done for when we came back with the guns, but they were not needed. My! But you must have had a terrible fight!"

"I did, while it lasted," said the hunter. "But were the boys hurt?"

"They can speak for themselves," replied Mr. Henderson. "I guess not, though."

"Having the wind almost squeezed out of us was the worst that happened,"

said Mark. "The octupus must have recently dined when it grabbed us, for it didn't offer to eat us. And it didn't grip us as tightly as it might have or I reckon we wouldn't have come out alive. I thought sure we were going to be killed, however."

"So did I," put in Jack.

"I don't want any more such fights this trip," said Andy with a weak smile.

CHAPTER XXVIII

OUT OF THE ICE

Worn out with their encounter with the octupus, Andy and the boys were glad to take to their bunks. The others, too, who were weary from traveling under water, felt the need of rest, and so it was decided to let the ship remain stationary down on the bottom of the ocean for several hours before going on further.

"When we get rested up we'll have a good meal, and then try to gain the surface of the ocean," said the professor.

There was quiet on board the _Porpoise_ for a long time. Washington was the first to awake and he at once set about getting a meal. When it was ready he called the professor, and, one after another all the adventurers rose from their bunks and refreshed themselves with hot coffee, bacon, eggs and preserves, all prepared from condensed foods, of which a large supply had been brought.

"Now to see if we can make our way upward through the ice," announced Mr. Henderson.

"We ought to be far enough south to strike the open polar sea which I believe exists."

The engine was started after the small leaks in the bow, caused by the ramming of the boat on the rocks, had been stopped up, and the professor, entering the conning tower, turned her due south.

The screw vibrated in the tunnel, the water rushed out in a big stream, the engines and dynamos hummed, and the hearts of all were lightened as they knew they were nearing the goal of their journey.

Several hours pa.s.sed and the professor, who was keeping watch of the gages noted they had covered more than one hundred miles. As the supply of compressed air was getting low Mr. Henderson, not wanting to run any chances, decided to make an attempt to reach the surface and refill the tanks.

Accordingly the water tanks were emptied of their ballast, the rudder was set to force the ship to the surface, and soon the depth gage showed a constantly decreasing amount of water over the heads of the adventurers.

"Now, if we don't hit the ice above us we'll be all right," spoke Mr.

Henderson. "We are within fifteen feet of the surface."

Hardly had he ceased speaking when the _Porpoise_ brought up against something with a b.u.mp that jarred everyone. Then the submarine went sc.r.a.ping along, hitting the conning tower every now and then.

"Not clear of the ice yet," said Mr. Henderson. "We must go down a little and try again."

The tanks were filled with enough water to keep the boat about fifty feet under the surface, and at that depth she was sent ahead at full speed. The professor's face wore an anxious look, and when Washington asked him if it was not time to replenish the air supply of the boat the inventor told the colored man to be very sparing of the contents of the compressing tanks.

"I'm afraid we are not as near the open sea as I at first thought," Mr.

Henderson finished.

On and on rushed the _Porpoise_. The engines were kept at full speed, and after two hours of this fast run another attempt was made to reach the surface. Once more the thick ice intervened.