“Think so?” said the doctor, rather excitedly, following the old sailor’s example.
“I just do, sir, for there’s nothing else he’s likely to see. There aren’t no wild beasts and things in an island like this. Better look out.”
Following out Carey’s tactics, they crept from rock to rock till they reached the mass which sheltered Carey, who waited till they were close up, and then whispered, “Quick! look round that side drawn out on the sands by the water.”
“Then it is,” said the doctor to himself, and troubles with a canoe-load of blacks rose before his eyes as he advanced to the rock, peered round one side, while Bostock as cautiously peered round the other, each occupying some time, Carey anxiously eager to follow their example, but unable to do so without being seen.
Quite a couple of minutes had elapsed before the pair drew back, looked at each other, and then turned to Carey.
“Well,” he whispered, impatiently, “can’t you see it?”
“See what?” whispered back the doctor. “Is that a canoe full of blacks?”
“No!” cried Carey, in a voice full of disgust; “an enormous crocodile, sleeping in the sun.”
Both looked round the side of the sheltering rock again, and Bostock’s head popped back.
“There!” said Carey, eagerly.