Then, as I felt I must give up, as I had made up my mind to slip another cartridge into my pistol, and end my life rather than be torn to pieces, the forest came to an end and, unable to check my headway, I slipped, plunged head-first and rolled, head-over-heels down a sharp, bare slope. Dazed, frightened, my eyes blinded with dust, my mouth and nostrils filled with choking powder, dimly aware of blistering, burning heat, I brought up with a jarring, sickening thud against a mass of rock. Bruised, shaken, sputtering, I spat the sand from my mouth, wiped the dust from my eyes and glanced about. Up from where I lay upon a ledge of rock surrounded by coarse grass and stunted trees, stretched a long steep slope of glaring white sand. Here and there slender columns of steam rose from it. Dull yellow patches of sulphur dotted its surface, and an uneven, irregular furrow marked the course of my fall. At the summit of the slope rose the forest trees and, issuing from them, was the gigantic monster still in pursuit. But I could not move, could not make an effort to escape. I was utterly done, utterly exhausted. I felt for my pistol, but the holster was empty. In a moment more the colossal beast would come sliding, bounding upon me. * * * * * FASCINATED, I stared at him. One glance he gave about, and then, with a bound, he was on the slope. My heart seemed to stop beating, numbing terror paralyzed me. But I need not have feared. Little did I know the character of that declivity of white, innocent-appearing sand. Instead of racing down the slope, the monster sank into it as though it had been liquid. He thrashed, struggled, bellowed, lashed with his enormous tail, but all in vain. Every movement buried him deeper and deeper. The soft, fine, almost impalpable dust could not support his weight. It gave way beneath him, closed in clouds above him. It was like a quicksand, and presently only the tip of his upflung tail and the thrashing, gnashing jaws were visible. And then an amazing phenomenon occurred. Up from the spot where he was vanishing, a great column of steam shot fifty feet in air, hissing, roaring. The next instant it subsided, and only the smooth unbroken slope remained.