“Nobody said a word, because everybody was fast asleep, I presume,” said Alfred; “I heard nothing.”
“It was like the sound of cart-wheels at a distance, with whistling and hissing,” said Mary.
“I think I can explain it to you, as I was up during the night, Miss Percival,” said Captain Sinclair. “It is a noise you must expect every night during the summer season; but one to which you will soon be accustomed.”
“Why, what was it?”
“Frogs,—nothing more; except, indeed, the hissing, which, I believe, is made by the lizards. They will serenade you every night. I only hope you will not be disturbed by anything more dangerous.”
“Is it possible that such small creatures can make such a din?”
“Yes, when thousands join in the concert; I may say millions.”
“Well, I thank you for the explanation, Captain Sinclair, as it has been some relief to my mind.”
After breakfast, Martin (we shall for the future leave out his surname) informed Mr Campbell that he had seen Malachi Bone, the hunter, who had expressed great dissatisfaction at their arrival, and his determination to quit the place if they remained.
“Surely, he hardly expects us to quit the place to please him?”