"Careful," said Wichter suddenly, coming to a halt and peering into the gloom at their right. "What did you see?" whispered Joyce. Wichter shook his head. The gigantic, two-legged, purplish figure he had dimly made out in the steamy dark, had moved away. "I don't know. It looked a little like a giant ape." They halted and took stock of their situation, mechanically wiping perspiration from their streaming faces, and pondering as to whether or not they should turn back. Joyce, who was far from being a coward, thought they should. "In this undergrowth," he pointed out, "we might be rushed before we could even fire our guns. And we're nearly a mile from the shell." But Wichter was like an eager child. "We'll press on just a little," he urged. "To that clear spot in front of us." He pointed along the trail to where sunlight was blazing down through an opening in the trees. "As soon as we see what's there, we'll go back." With a shrug, Joyce followed the eager little man down the weird trail under the lavender trees. In a few moments they had reached the clearing which was Wichter's goal. They halted on its edge, gazing at it with awe and repulsion. * * * * * It was a circular quagmire of festering black mud about a hundred yards across. Near at hand they could see the mud heaving, very slowly, as though abysmal forms of life were tunneling along just under the surface. They glanced toward the center of the bog, which was occupied by one of the smooth black pools, and cried aloud at what they saw. At the brink of the pool was lying a gigantic creature like a great, thick snake--a snake with a lizard's head, and a series of many-jointed, scaled legs running down its powerful length. Its mouth was gaping open to reveal hundreds of needle-sharp, backward pointing teeth. Its legs and thick, stubbed tail were threshing feebly in the mud as though it were in distress; and its eyes, so small as to be invisible in its repulsive head, were glazed and dull. "Was that what we heard back a ways?" wondered Joyce. "Probably," said Wichter. His eyes shone as he gazed at the nightmare shape. Impulsively he took a step toward the stirring mud. "Don't be entirely insane," snapped Joyce, catching his arm. "I must see it closer," said Wichter, tugging to be free. "Then we'll climb a tree and look down on it. We'll probably be safer up off the ground anyway." * * * * * They ascended the nearest jungle giant--whose rubbery bark was so ringed and scored as to be as easy to climb as a staircase--to the first great bough, about fifty feet from the ground, and edged out till they hung over the rim of the quagmire. From there, with the aid of their binoculars, they expected to see the dying monster in every detail. But when they looked toward the pool it was not in sight! "Were we seeing things?" exclaimed Wichter, rubbing his glasses. "I'd have sworn it was lying there!"