“What a fine grove for a camp meeting,” said Luke Clark. “Do you know how far the trees reach back, Guy?”
“Three or four miles, according to my description.”
“Shall we push through?”
“Yes. Back of the woods rises the small hill indicated on my plan of the island. I propose that we ascend that, and take a general view. It may be high enough for us to see the shore on the other side.”
It was not a work of difficulty to reach the hill and ascend it.
The rise was gradual, and the hill was comparatively bare of trees. Thus far they had discovered nothing that indicated any previous occupation by white men; but now on the summit of the hill they saw a pole looking somewhat like a telegraph pole.
“Do you see that, Guy?” said Abner Titcomb.
“Yes.”
“That must have been placed there by white visitors.”
“Probably by some of the pirates of whom my uncle speaks.”