He began rolling himself as fast as he could after Wriggs, and at last, after they both had to correct several divergences from their proper course, they approached the two friends, who were seated beneath a tree.
“Look, Panton!” cried Drew, excitedly.
“What at?”
“Those two fellows. They must have found and been eating some poisonous kind of berry. They’ve gone mad.”
“More likely been breathing some bad volcanic gas. Here, I say, you two, what’s the matter with you?” he cried, as Wriggs rolled close up to him, and stopped to lie with his mouth open, staring, but too giddy to speak.
“I thought so,” said Drew. “We must get them back to the ship and give them something.”
At that moment Smith rolled up, and lay giddy and staring.
“Here, you two: can’t you speak? What’s the matter with you?”
Wriggs pointed at Smith, as much as to say, “Ask him,” and when the friends looked in his direction, Smith nodded at Wriggs.
“We must get back,” cried Panton. “Ahoy–y–y–y! Lane! Ahoy–y–y–y–y!” he shouted.