“Let’s start at once, and try to get to camp. That will be better than cocoa-nuts. Now, then, the sun is rising on our right; then it seems to me if we keep it there, upon our right, and walk as straight as we can, we shall hit the shore somewhere near our camp.”
“Then you won’t look for the Gutty Perchy Road, sir?”
“No, no; they would not have stayed there. We will try and get through the jungle—we must get through it, Billy, so come along.”
“Shall I go first, sir?” said the little sailor.
“No, I’ll go first. I wish we had lights to look a little further into this hole. Why, Billy, the floor’s lava!”
“Yes, sir, I thought it was.”
“You thought it was what?” cried Mark, staring.
“What you said, sir.”
“Never mind, come along,” said Mark; and he went to the edge of the cave and stood looking out like a pigeon in one of the holes of a dove-cot preparing to take flight.
“See anything, sir?”