"No jolly fear," protested his companion. "He wouldn't have left his trophy lying here unless he went on, intending to get it again on the return journey. Bring that light a bit lower, old thing; that's right. Yes, I thought so."
Close to the ground was a narrow, tunnel-like gap in the undergrowth. This the two men negotiated on their hands and knees, to find themselves in a wide, sloping expanse of open country devoid of trees and dotted by a few stunted bushes.
"Which way now?" inquired Bobby, as the two chums regained their feet.
Villiers did not reply.
"Switch off that light for half a tick," he said.
Beverley did so. For some seconds they stood blinking in the sudden transition from dazzling light to intense darkness.
"What's the move?" asked Beverley.
"I thought—might have been mistaken, though. Ah! there you are; what's that?"
At a considerable distance away—how far it was impossible to gauge with any degree of accuracy—a feeble ray of light stabbed the darkness—three short, three long, and then three short flashes.
"S.O.S.," exclaimed Villiers and Beverley simultaneously.