craters, which loomed deep, and in awful silence, in their path.
Sometimes they climbed small mountains or crawled in and out of small
craters, slipping and stumbling.

They were not cold, for their fur garments kept them comfortably warm,
and there was no wind to make the freezing temperature search through
the crevices of their clothing. But it was the desolate silence, the
utter absence of any form of life save the pale green vegetation that
got on their nerves. It was like being in a dead world--on a planet
that seemed about to dissolve into space.

They began their further search for the projectile with hope in their
hearts, but this gradually gave way to despair as they wandered on over
the desolate surface, and saw nothing but the same rugged peaks, the
same yawning caverns and the innumerable craters, large and small.

On they wandered, looking on all sides for the missing projectile, but
they had no glimpse of it. Even climbing to one of the high peaks,
whence they had a view of the surrounding country, afforded them no
trace of the _Annihilator_, They were utterly lost.

Old Andy, who, by reason of his experience as a trapper and hunter, had
taken the lead, came to a halt. He looked around helplessly. He did not
know what to do.

"Well, boys," he remarked at length, "I don't like to say it, but I
can't seem to get anywhere. I give up."

"Give up?" murmured Jack, in blank dismay.