“Come along,” cried Panton. “We must get back and find Smith.”
“You never will, sir,” said Wriggs, dolefully. “Poor old Tommy’s gone. I expect it was the snakes. They must have smelt as it was we who skinned their mates. I had a narrow escape from ’em.”
“Did you see them?” asked Oliver.
“Well, sir, I didn’t zackly see ’em, but I could hear ’em all about me awful.”
“Then you are not sure they were snakes?”
“Not sure, sir? Why, that I am. Nothing else couldn’t keep on hissing at you but snakes and sarpents. Oh, lor! it’s a horful lonesome place, I was a shivering all down my back. Why, not long ago, while I was coming along hailing of yer, I heard a mountain come sliding down like thunder, and shooting loads o’ stones.”
“You’ve been scared, Wriggs,” said Oliver, as he hurried the man back. “Tell me again.”
“What, ’bout being scared, sir?”
“Nonsense, we mustn’t be scared at a noise; I mean about Smith wandering away.”
“Aren’t nowt to tell, sir, only as he went to get some more wood, and the sarpents caught him. Swaller a feller up whole, don’t they, sir?”