"The beast!"
"Perhaps he is waiting for us to die," suggested Fenayrou with a harsh chuckle. "Perhaps he is waiting for the reward. He would not starve on the way home, at least. And he could deliver us—piecemeal."
They studied him.
"How does he do it, doctor? Has he no feeling?"
"I have been wondering," said Dubosc. "It may be that his fibers are tougher—his nerves."
"Yet we have had water and he none."
"But look at his skin, fresh and moist."
"And his belly, fat as a football!"
The Parrot hauled himself aboard.
"Don't tell me this black beast knows thirst!" he cried with a strange excitement. "Is there any way he could steal our supplies?"