“I’m sure that couldn’t have been a monkey—even a gorilla,” said Bob, “because there would be marks of its toes.”
“Let’s get out of here,” murmured Joe a bit fearfully. “Who knows what kind of a creature that might have been?”
They left the spot and plunged on through the forest. Bob removed his revolver and fired two shots, hoping that they could be heard by the safari. He refrained from firing more because of the possibility of needing the bullets in an emergency.
All morning they hiked on, paying little or no attention to the country they were passing through. They observed with interest, however, the results of the hurricane. Tall trees were lying about, having been struck by lightning; numerous small dead animals could be seen.
By noon their hunger had become almost unbearable. Joe managed to shoot a large duck-like bird, which was at once roasted over a fire. To the two starved boys, the taste was delicious.
They stopped only long enough to eat the meal, for every minute of delay was maddening to them.
“We’ve just got to find our party today,” said Bob, gritting his teeth. “If we don’t, they’ll move so far away that we never will find them.”
Joe nodded.
“But then,” he reminded his friend, “maybe they’ll stick around this vicinity. They’re probably looking for us, too, don’t forget. We’ll just——”