“Ugh!” ejaculated Fred again, “bones! Come away, Scar; it’s a skeleton.”
The two boys shrank away in horror, and for some moments neither ventured to speak, while, as they clung together, each could feel his fellow suffering from no little nervous tremor.
“Some one must have slipped down the hole and died here of starvation,” whispered Scarlett at last. “You know how dangerous it is.”
“Yes,” said Fred, thoughtfully, and with his shrinking feeling on the increase. “No,” he exclaimed directly after, “I don’t think it’s that. I know—at least, I should know if I touched it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s some sheep slipped down when feeding, and never been missed.”
“Do you think it’s that?” said Scarlett, eagerly.
“I feel sure of it. If it had been a man, he would have found some way of getting out. I say, Scar, will you stoop down and touch it?”
“No,” said Scarlett, with a shudder.
“Well, I will, then. Yes; I’m right. It is a sheep’s bones.”