“I’ll do jest as de Perfesser says,” he said to himself; “I’m sorry I sent dat letter home, for mebbe dere was someting in it which will set Harv onto my track,—but I can’t think what it am onless—”
He almost dropped to the ground in dismay.
“I didn’t put any name to de top of de page, but de postmaster has stamped de word ‘Dawson’ on de enwollop. Jee whizz! I neber thought ob dat!”
You will remember that it was this fact which told Harvey the one thing he needed to know in order to make an intelligent search for his friend. It was too late now to correct the error, and it was well for Bunk that he did not recall certain other words in his letter which gave invaluable aid to his friend. He found great relief in the belief that the start across the ocean would be made in a day or two at the furthest.
It must be admitted that Bunk’s situation in more than one respect was trying. In the first place, he had no firearms, no such thing being thought necessary when he and Harvey Hamilton first left home with their biplane. He had not so much as a fishing line with which to beguile the hours that could not fail to become wearisome. He had been promised food and could not doubt that the Professor would see that he did not suffer for nourishment.
The first day spent in and about the cavern was tedious, though a goodly part of it was passed in eating and sleeping. When darkness at last began closing in there was nothing left of the supplies that had been brought in the basket.
“If de Perfesser forgits me and doan’ come in de morning,” reflected Bunk, “I’ll be in an orful fix, but I can always rampage frough de country. I’ve got ’nough money to buy a good deal and when dat runs out I can grab things ‘permiscuous.’”
His idea of the wild animals that haunt the Adirondacks was vague. He knew that deer, bears, and he believed wolves were met with at times in different parts. Had he passed through Harvey’s experience he might have become more disquieted. He suspected that tigers, leopards, lions, giraffes and possibly elephants were to be met with in the wilder portions, but the reliance upon which he always fell back was the conviction that none of these creatures knew how to climb a tree, while he was master of the art.
“I wish dis cave had a door dat I could shet, but it doan’ hab nuffin ob de kind and if any ob dem critters walks into de front I’m catched for dere ain’t any way out ob de back.”
Investigation had told him that the one yawning opening was the only means of ingress and egress, because of which fact he studied a long time the problem of the safest thing to do. Suddenly it flashed upon him.