CHAPTER IX.
GRAPPLING A QUEER FISH.

At nearly the same moment both Bruno and Waldo caught a glimpse
of water, shining clear and distinct amidst that sombre setting;
but as yet a tree-crested elevation interfered with the prospect,
and it was not until after the course of the air-ship had been
materially changed, and some little time had elapsed, that aught
definite could be determined as to the actual spread of that body
of water.

This proved to be considerable, although it needed but a single
look into the professor's face to learn that his eager hopes and
exalted anticipations fell far short of realisation.

"Well, it's a sea all right," generously declared Waldo, giving a
vigorous sniff by way of strengthening his words. "I can smell
the salt clear from this. A sea, even if it isn't quite so large
as others,--what one might term a lower-case c!"

If nothing else, that generous effort brought its reward in the
dry little chuckle which escaped the professor's lips, and a
kindly glow showed through his glasses as he turned towards Waldo
with a nod of acknowledgment.

"Barring the salty scent, my dear boy, which probably finds birth
in your kindly imagination. So, on the whole, perhaps 'twould be
just as well to term it a lake."

"One of no mean dimensions, at any rate, uncle Phaeton."