Allan hesitated. There was a dark liquid in the bottom of the cup.
“Drink it!” repeated the old man, and Allan did as he was told.
Whatever the liquid was, it made Allan feel much better, so much better that he soon began to make light of the accident and asked McConnell to go after the camera.
“These rocks are very old,” said the man of the hut, “older than I am. They are getting feeble. You must not trust their strength.”
“It was a close call,” Owen declared fervently. “I expected to have to piece you together. But you were only out of focus and very much fogged.”
“Your kodak seems to be all right,” said McConnell, coming up with the camera.
Allan looked curiously at the set lever of the exposer. “I must have squeezed the bulb, anyway,” he laughed. “The shutter went off.”
“I wonder what sort of a thing you got,” said McConnell.
“Probably some interesting sky,” was Allan’s opinion.
The sky! They had not noticed that within the last ten minutes the clouds to the south had grown heavier. The wind was now from the southeast and decidedly fresh.