“Shout!” cried the major, who sounded very Irish that morning. “Why, can’t you hear, boy, how dumb we are with yelling after you!”
“Never mind, you are found, so now for camp. They must be very anxious. But you are none the worse?”
“No, father, not a bit; only hungry.”
“But did you hear that roar soon after daybreak?”
“Hear it! Yes,” cried Mark; “it came out of the cave in which we slept;” and he related their experience.
The captain looked at the major without speaking.
“Oh, I’m ready,” said the latter with a look of determination. “Let’s have the rest of what we have to eat, and then set the matter at rest.”
“We will,” said Captain Strong, “and then we shall have a better right to face those in camp. I don’t like for our visit to be purposeless.”
Billy Widgeon’s eyes glistened as they found a level place to sit down and make a fairly hearty meal, supplemented by some fruit picked by the men during the laborious search, which had only ceased on the previous night when they were quite exhausted.
As they made their sylvan breakfast the question was discussed as to the possibility of finding the cave again. Mark felt that he could not but express his willingness to try, and soon after, with guns loaded ready, they rose and set off in quest of the monster that threatened to make their life a penance.