CHAPTER XIII
THE STRANGE MAN AGAIN
They came out of the cave into a hollow, grown to a wilderness of small trees, yet carpeted between with a brilliant sod of short grass. On the steep sides were larger trees; but evidently, at a time not then long past, the cup of the hollow had been cleared. And at one side was the ruin of a log hut.
"The man who lived alone at this end of the island, and climbed up and down Boulder Head, used to occupy this hut," said Chet.
"But those logs were cut a hundred years ago!" cried Dora Lockwood. "See how they have rotted at the ends."
"I guess that's so. Nobody knows who built the cabin."
"Indians!" cried Jess.
"Indians didn't built log houses. The first settlers did that. Indians lived in wigwams," declared Laura.
"Some old hunter lived here, maybe, when the woods were full of bears and wildcats," suggested her chum.
"What's that!" suddenly shrieked Bobby. "There's a wildcat, now!"