“Gosh, but he was fierce!” ejaculated Jim, when they regained their breath. “I told you we’d better not go near.”
“You can bet I won’t, next time,” Tom assured him. “But they’re no sea elephants anyhow.”
“Let’s go along the beach and have a look at the penguins,” suggested Jim. “We can keep away from those beasts, back here.”
Giving the fierce, spotted seals a wide berth the two boys descended to the beach and strolled towards the penguin colony. Many odd shells and other interesting things were scattered on the sand, and, as the boys stooped to pick some up, they noticed many rounded, glittering pebbles.
“Why, they’re moonstones!” exclaimed Tom, “and thousands of them!”
There was no question of it. The beach was strewn with the translucent, handsome stones and the boys busied themselves filling their pockets with the gems. So intent were they, that they failed to notice a low, gray cloud about the mountain top which drifted down towards the shores in little wisps and detached masses until, feeling chilly, Tom looked up and gave a surprised cry. On every side they were surrounded with an impenetrable, dense fog and only a small area of the beach about them was visible.
Seaward they could see the lazy, green rollers coming mysteriously from a gray bank. They could hear the muffled cries of birds and the occasional flapping of wings; but not a sign of the hill or of the mountains could be seen.
“Gosh, we’d better be getting back!” exclaimed Jim anxiously. “It’s getting thicker every minute.”
Hurrying from the beach, they commenced climbing the hill, but long before they reached the summit the beach and waves were hidden from view and the boys seemed shut in as if by a soft, gray wall.
“We’ll have to be careful or we’ll get lost,” cautioned Tom. “We should have brought a compass.”