“I hope Johannes has had better fortune,” said the captain as they neared the entrance.
“I hope so; he would be back at the fire long before now,” replied the doctor; but hardly had he spoken when a loud hail came echoing down the gully. They sent an echoing reply, and hurried their paces.
“One hardly likes to shout here,” said the doctor; “the echoes are so weird and strange, they seem quite to answer you.”
“Better if Steve would answer,” said the captain drily. “You said a time back you wished we had not brought him to-day. I honestly wish now that I had not brought him at all. Well, Johannes?”
There was no need to speak. The heavy, solemn face of the Norseman told that he had seen nothing, and they went back to the fire in silence.
There was a pleasant odour to a hungry man out in the open, that of frizzling meat, as they approached the fire; but the strange disappearance of their young companion took away all appetite, and Watty, who was smiling with satisfaction at the success of the collops he had been cooking upon skewers of wood, as chef of the al-fresco kitchen, saw with intense disappointment that the captain and those with him contented themselves with taking a couple of ship’s biscuits each, and then turning away to confer as to what ought to be done.
“We cannot go back to the ship without him,” said the captain.
“No,” cried Johannes.
“Do you think he is playing us some trick?” said the doctor.
“Trick?”