"Did you see any niggers' tracks?"
"Not a sign of any. I don't think I saw or heard a living thing of any kind since leaving."
Morton told him about the flight of hawks and crows he had noticed, and as they rode back to camp they decided to make an excursion to the south before tackling the great rock and the mystery beyond. It was as well to know all about the country before making their final start; and, moreover, if the natives came back and saw their tracks going away south it might throw them off their guard.
Charlie and Billy had found nothing about the camp beyond a peculiar mark cut on a tree, which somewhat differed from the others they had seen. They had caught some fish in the largest of the lagoons, and Billy had a fine big carpet snake roasting in the ashes; for no matter how well fed a blackfellow is, he always likes to revert to his aboriginal delicacies occasionally.
Charlie took them to inspect the new mark, which was on a large flooded box-tree. It had been chopped out with a stone tomahawk in the rugged bark, and must have taken much time and labour. Both men looked at it from all points of view without arriving at any conclusion; then, just as they were turning away, Morton exclaimed:
"If I saw that tatooed on a sailor's arm I should say that it was meant for an anchor."
The two others instantly recognized the resemblance, and they all came to the conclusion that it was a rude attempt to depict that emblem.
"Mystery thickens," said Brown. "Are we going to reach the much-talked-of inland sea and find a race of sailor-men in possession?"
"Devilish queer," replied Morton; "it seems to me the sort of mark an illiterate white man who had been a sailor would make on a tree. It's chopped out very neatly, much as a sailor would do anything of the sort."
"I suppose we shall find out all about it before we get to the end of this trip," returned Brown.