"The tree tops are beginning to shake now and the monkeys are chattering as if they were frightened," said Barty. "It's very queer and exciting."
"We must get away from the trees," said the Good Wolf. "Are you frightened?"
"Yes, I am frightened," answered Barty, "but there isn't any time to cry. Shall we run as fast as ever we can and look about us everywhere while we are running?"
"Yes," answered the Good Wolf; "we had better run to a place where there will be nothing to fall on us. One to be ready, two to be steady, three and—away!" And off they both started as fast as they could, and left the monkeys chattering and screaming behind them.
There were trees everywhere except near the shore, so they ran back towards where the sea was.
"If we stay on the cliffs the mountain waves won't dash up that high, will they?" Barty panted as he ran.
"No, they won't," answered the Good Wolf, "but the wind may blow us off the cliffs into the water."
"I don't see any house anywhere," said Barty.
"Neither do I," said the Good Wolf. "You don't find houses on desert islands; you have to build them."
Barty's stout little legs were flying over the ground faster than they had ever flown before, and he was in such a hurry he could scarcely find breath to speak, but he gave a little gasping laugh.