"Bo-o-o-o-o-o-o!" said David.
"Gr-r-r-r-r-r-r!" cried Clive.
But the wild boar did not move, even though the uproar without still continued.
Then Clive went down the ladder a little distance, far enough down so that by bending, his head was below the upper floor. Then he took his hat and hurled it with all his might and main at the pile of fagots.
Then he went up again.
But the wild boar did not move.
Thereupon David went down, and he went a little lower. He took his hat, and uttering a hideous yell, he threw it with all his force at the fagots.
But even this failed to alarm the wild boar. David stood for a moment after this bold deed and listened. The only satisfaction that he had was the sound of a low, comfortable grunt, that seemed to show that the present situation was one which was rather enjoyed than otherwise by this formidable, this indomitable, this invincible beast.
They came back to the windows in despair, and by this time Frank had finished his discussion with the guide. He was looking up anxiously towards them.
"Look here," said he; "that miserable wild boar won't come out. The guide thinks the only way to get at him is to smoke him out. The only trouble is about you. Will the smoke bother yon, do you think?"