Scarce a word passed between them, and what little was said was in whispers.
To Seymour, fresh from his terrible experience, every fungi-clump concealed an imaginary foe, and every moment he expected to hear the terrifying cry of his enemies.
But they reached the ridge in safety, and, with a final glance round to assure themselves that they were not followed, they descended into the valley, and passed out on to the plain.
Here Silas produced a small electric lantern, which, with his usual forethought, he had brought with him; and, while Seymour kept a sharp watch for enemies, animal or otherwise, he made a thorough examination of the ground around the entrance to the valley.
The footsteps of the mighty Triceratops were plainly to be seen, but of Garth or his captors there seemed no trace for a time.
Then suddenly a smothered cry left Haverly’s lips.
“Jupiter! I’ve got it!”
Seymour hurried to his side. In the ground at his feet, plainly revealed by the light of the lantern, was the impression of a horrible, ape-like foot, and close beside it was the imprint of a boot.
The baronet gave a whistle of astonishment.
“The brute must have been close behind Garth when we turned for the valley,” he said. “See, here are more footprints leading out across the plain.”