“’Cause he ain’t there, my lad,” said Shaddy gruffly. “Here, wait till I’ve doctored this iguana thing and hung it up. No, I’ll cover it with grass here in the cool, and then we must make back tracks and find Mr Brazier before night.”
“Oh, Shaddy!” cried Rob in an anguished tone, “then he has been horribly hurt—perhaps killed!”
The man made no reply, but hurriedly cut open and cleaned the lizard at some distance from the hut, then buried it beneath quite a pile of grass, dead leaves and twigs, before stepping back to his companion in misfortune.
“Oh, why did you stop to do that,” cried Rob, “when Mr Brazier may be lying dying somewhere in the forest?”
“Because when we find him, we must have food to eat, lad, and something for him too. That thing may save all our lives. Don’t you think I don’t want to get to him, because I do. Now then, sir, we’ve got to go straight back the way we came, and find him.”
“You’ll go right back to where the spots—I mean, where we found the piece of string?” whispered Rob, whose feeling of weariness seemed to disappear at once.
“Yes, sir, straight back as an arrow, and it’s of no use to hide facts; you must take your place as a man now, and act like one, having the hard with the soft, so I shall speak plainly.”
“You need not, Shaddy,” said Rob sadly. “You are afraid he has been badly hurt and carried off by Indians—perhaps killed.”
“Nay, my lad; that’s making worse of it than I thought. My ideas was bad enough, but not so bad as yours, and I think mine’s right.”
“Then what do you think?” said Rob, as after a sharp glance round they made for the spot where they had re-entered the clearing from the forest.