So Mat brought up a heap of shell-fish to the camp, and by evening had made their sleeping-quarters a little more comfortable by means of boughs and bark.
The night passed without further incident; but it was a period of feverish nightmare to both brothers; lie how they would, their skins were so blistered that the pain was almost unendurable, and Mat, besides, was up many times to cool his brother’s wounded leg with water.
At daylight they were awakened from a doze by the barking of Jumper. Mat was on his legs in a moment, and, proceeding cautiously to the spot, discovered the dog trying to claw up a tree, evidently striving to get at something in the branches. This proved to be a huge lizard, which was lying out on a limb a few feet from the ground.
Being an adept at “squirrelling” at his old home in the Forest, Mat knocked the animal off his perch with sticks; and Jumper, who had been intently watching the proceedings, had it in his jaws almost before it reached the ground.
Near this spot Mat observed lying on the ground some tempting-looking fruits, in colour and shape somewhat resembling an orange, which had evidently fallen off a kind of stunted palm-tree. These he gathered up, and, together with the lizard, carried them back to their camp. With a sharp shell he cut out the fat from the lizard, and put it by to dress their wounds with; but the raw flesh of the beast proved quite uneatable by reason of its utter want of taste; whilst the delicious-looking fruit was far worse from the opposite reason—it was so intensely bitter and acrid that they quickly spat it out again. However, Jumper made a hearty meal off the lizard, the poor dog not having had anything but raw fish up to this time.
The view from their camp was a calm and peaceful one. The Pacific Ocean, which had so lately belied its name, now stretched, as far as the eye could reach, in one unruffled surface; beautiful bays indented the coast both north and south, whilst huge grey-looking forests seemed to mingle with the now blue waters, growing apparently to their very edge. Not a sail of any description had the brothers seen upon the ocean; the only sign of man was the smoke, or rather smokes, for by the second day the fires had evidently increased in numbers.
Our foresters found that the fat of the lizard well rubbed in did them more good than cold water bandages, and one afternoon Tim said he thought he could travel. They both agreed that it would be a relief even to move camp, though they might take a long time before they reached the strange fires. Mat procured a couple of stout sticks to lean upon, remarking, as he gave one to his brother with a smile, “We’ve no call to trouble about the luggage;” which, indeed, so far, was lucky.
As long as they travelled quite slowly, with long rests, they found they could “keep going” very well. Mat—by far the most able man, though they were both cripples—carried Tim over bad bits of ground; but on level country the latter managed well enough by resting one hand on his brother’s shoulder. Having thus covered some miles of country, they came to a water-hole with several small tracks leading to it; round the margin were prints of numerous feet freshly stamped in the sand.
“Here they be,” whispered Mat, pointing to the signs, “big feet and little feet, a whole tribe of ’em, and can’t be far off neither. We must go careful like.”
Resuming their journey, they crossed a plain of treeless waste, and then entered a country thickly overgrown with scrub.