The next instant a cry of mingled horror and surprise rang through the forest and Rawlins, pale and with a strange expression on his face, came hurrying back.
“Don’t go in there!” he cried. “Come on back to the boat, boys!”
“But what--what is it?” cried Tom. “What did you see? You look as if you’d seen a ghost!”
“Worse!” exclaimed the diver. “It’s a man! A man staked out--”
“A man!” yelled Frank and then, seized with sudden terror, the two boys turned and fled headlong towards the boat.
“You mean there’s a human body in there?” demanded Mr. Pauling who, attracted by Rawlins’ excited tones, had hurried forward. “Come on, brace up, Rawlins! A dead man can’t hurt you! We can’t leave a human being to be eaten by vultures.”
With a great effort, Rawlins recovered himself. “Guess it was the shock of seeing him,” he declared, rather shamefacedly. “But by glory, it is a rotten sight!”
“Rotten or not we’ll have to bury him,” declared Mr. Pauling. “He’s an Indian I suppose.”
“Indian nothing!” cried Rawlins. “That’s the worst of it! It’s a white man!”
“By Jove!” ejaculated Mr. Pauling. “Who could it be?”