Tavish shook his head, and muttered to himself.
“What is it, Tavvy?” said Kenneth.
“If it’s ta whusky they’re makking aboon yonder, ta young chentleman isna there.”
“Well, we shall soon see about that,” cried Kenneth, pressing on in the most reckless way, and only saving himself from several falls by his activity, for he went among the broken rocks like a goat.
A loud burst of barking lent speed to his feet; and ten minutes later the party were up in front of the rough building, from which came to their nostrils the strong reek of steam, telling that water had been thrown upon the fire they had seen.
There was no answer to their calls, but Dirk was barking furiously inside, and Kenneth at once entered, Tavish following to light a match; but there was no one within, only enough visible to show what business had been going on.
“Any one about here?” shouted Kenneth, after they had satisfied themselves that Max was not to be seen.
But there was no reply, and Tavish shouted in Gaelic.
Only the echoes answered his call; and Kenneth impatiently coaxed out the dog, who seemed to think that his work was done.
“He has been here, father, and they’ve gone on.”