ty-five, forty, fifty paces. No spring. Seventy-five, a hundred, two hundred paces. No spring, no seven palms.
"Dar now!" he muttered; "dat spring oughter be right here. An' I'm 'bleeged to find it."
Zack kept on stepping, but lost count, in his zigzag and rapid rambles. Then he halted and mopped his brow. He couldn't see a soul. It was mighty lonesome. Everything was level and shiny in the moonlight, white wastes and no shadows—nothing but here and there a clump of Sodom apples. Zack shied skittishly around these things, for he had been warned that they would put out his eyes. The spring persisted in being absent. "Huh! dat sho is curyus."
Looking back, he got his bearings from the palm and moved in a direct line. Then some thing happened; two somethings happened. The Big Gray Things didn't come from anywhere; they just happened. Right up out of the ground. First he saw a clump bf Sodom apple bushes—and paid no particular mind, but felt certain they were Sodom apples. Anyhow it was something in the bushes which let out a snarl and a roar, and then began a mighty scrambling. The bushes scrambled, and so did Zack. Once he glanced back over his shoulder at two Big Gray Things, four times taller than himself, which seemed to be reaching out to get him. They reached out mighty far,
