"Why, the fact is, Luff, he made those marks himself in some idle hour as he lay basking in the sun up there. He told me that he often spends whole days among the cliffs or sleeping in the caves, while his sheep are grazing in the valleys. You may have noticed that he was rather inclined to burst when he left the hut. The fellow had sense enough not to say any thing before the company. I thought it was worth a dollar to keep the thing quiet."
"It was well worth a dollar, Abraham; but the skull—what about the skull?"
"Oh, the skull? He said he picked it up one day outside the cave, and hove it up there, thinking it would do for a lamp some time or other. What excited me so when our shipmate spoke about it was that he should call it a dog's skull."
"And wasn't it?"
"Why, yes; to tell the truth, Luff, it was the skull of a wild dog; but you know one doesn't like to be told of such a thing. However, we must look about for the poor fellow, and not leave him ashore."
By this time we had reached an elevation some distance back of the huts. We stopped a while to listen, and then began shouting his name. At first we could hear nothing; but at length there was a sound reached our ears like a distant echo, only rather muffled.
"Halloo!" cried Abraham, as loud as he could.
"Halloo!" was faintly echoed back, after a pause.
"Nothing but an echo," said I.
"It doesn't sound like my voice," observed Abraham. "Halloo! where are you?" he shouted again, at the highest pitch of his voice. There was another pause.