They approached close to the cataract and gazed helplessly into the water. What could they do? It was a most astonishing and unfathomable mystery. All they could do was stand and look and listen.
Presently Dr. Byrd pulled a sleeve of each of his companions and motioned them to follow him.
They started down the stream again, but soon they were halted involuntarily by another wailing cry from the same source. Dr. Byrd did not turn back, however, but went on after a moment’s hesitation. The others followed.
Beyond the reach of the deafening noise of the waterfall, the doctor stopped and began to discuss the affair with trembling, hollow voice, his face showing white in the rays of the lanterns. He was not frightened, but the circumstances were unusual enough to unstring his nerves.
The rest were similarly affected, even Pepper experiencing a weakening of his knees as a result of the last two screams.
“What in the world does that mean?” gasped the doctor. “There it goes again,” as another scream, somewhat fainter than the last two, reached their ears. “Can’t one of you offer a possible explanation?”
“Maybe it’s a mountain lion or a lynx,” suggested Pepper. “You know there’s said to be a few in the mountains around here.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” exclaimed Dr. Byrd enthusiastically, “or rather, it’s a commonsense explanation that ought to have occurred to any blockhead. Hence, what are the rest of us? I feel better all of a sudden. But no! If it is a panther—”
He hesitated.
“What then?” inquired Mr. Frankland.