Taking their guns, the mate and Drew followed the trail, which was plainly enough marked from the side of the brig, the round soft foot-prints showing out in the light patches of sand, the fore paws well-defined and the hind partly brushed out, showing that the body of the deer had been dragged over them. Here and there, too, dry smears of blood were visible on the rough coral rock, where the animal had probably rested, and then dragged the carcase on again in its progress toward the nearest patch of forest.
“The brute must have followed me,” said Drew, “attracted by the blood which no doubt dripped as we came along, and when all was quiet followed the scent and then come on board.”
A quarter of a mile farther on the trail ceased, and it was plain enough why, for the soft sand was plentifully marked with foot-prints, and in one place bits of fur and smears of blood showed that there had been a fierce fight with tooth and claw, while broken bones and bits of hide with the short sharp horns pointed to the fact that the fight had been followed by a banquet, after which the leopards or panthers had trotted steadily off to the forest, the track of three or four of the great cat-like creatures being plainly marked.
“No use to go hunting them,” said the mate. “They go on stealing away from tree to tree, and we should never get a shot.”
They shouldered their guns and walked back, talking about the rushing and trampling noise of the preceding night, Drew having heard something of it from a distance and attributed it rightly to a sudden panic amongst the animals startled into headlong flight by the eruptive action of the volcano.
Oliver and Panton were watching them from the bulwarks against which they leaned, using their small binoculars to watch the proceeding of their companions, and both low-spirited and looking dejected at having to stay on deck through the weakness produced by their wounds.
Drew saw it as he came on board and related their experience.
“Come, I say,” he exclaimed at last, “don’t look so down-hearted.”
“All very well for you,” said Oliver, “you can get about. We’re prisoners.”
“Only for a little while. It may be my turn next,” said Drew.