“Let’s holler,” suggested Frank. “Maybe they can hear us.”
All joined in a lusty scream, which, too, was disappointing, for they felt instinctively, after it died away, that it had not penetrated far below. None of the travelers seemed to pay any attention to it. If they heard it, they caught no significance in the sound.
“We’ve got to do something else,” Hal announced desperately. He did his best to appear cheerful, but as he looked into the tired faces of his companions, he felt his heart sink heavily.
“Let’s make some bows and arrows,” Pickles suggested.
“Pick, you’re a peach!” Hal exclaimed. “That’s just the thing. We’ll tie some notes to arrows and shoot ’em at the people passing.”
“We’ll have to hit them or they probably won’t see the arrows,” was Byron’s advice.
“I’ve got a scheme to make ’em hear the arrows,” announced Hal.
“How?” asked Fes.
“Make whistles on the ends.”
The boys had done this before by way of amusement. All of them were skilled in making whistles of any twig or small limb from which the bark could be removed in the form of a tube.