“I’m going to try, sir. Savages can, and have a feast of roast pig after, so we ought to be able to. Don’t you think we might risk starting, and get higher up the mountain, and then round somehow, and make for the shore?”
“It will be very risky by daylight.”
“But we can’t go in the dark, sir.”
“Come on then,” cried Jack. “The blacks may have been scared right away, so let’s chance it.”
He led the way to the entrance, where, to the great delight of both, they found another bow lying, and close by one of the melon-headed war-clubs and a bundle of arrows, upon which Ned pounced regardless of danger, while Jack crept to the stones outside and took a long look round, over gully, rock, and patch of forest. But there was nothing living within sight but a couple of flocks of birds, one green, the others milky white, and showing plainly as they flew over against the green trees.
“See anything of that lame pig, sir?” said Ned, handing him the arrows to take what he liked.
“No; nor the blacks neither.”
“They’re hiding somewhere, sir, and I dare say on the look-out, or I’d be for going to have a look below there.”
“That would be too risky, Ned. Let’s creep to where we can get cover, and then do as you say, keep along the more open part under the trees, and see if we can get round somewhere by the sands.”
“On you go then, sir, and whatever you do, don’t lose a chance of a shot. We must have something to eat, or we can never get back. Oh yes, you’re a very beautiful island, no doubt—very well to look at, but I don’t think much of a place where you can’t find the very fruit as would be a blessing to us now.”