"That's jolly strange," muttered the Scout. "When a crowd of us came over here there were rabbits running about everywhere; now they keep a very respectful distance. I wonder if they know a gun when they see one?"
Phillips halted to straighten his back and to wipe the moisture from his forehead.
"What's that?" he exclaimed to himself, as the sound of a sharp thud came from almost under his feet.
He listened intently. The noise was repeated.
"I wonder if there's a cave underneath here?" he thought. "Seems almost as if there's a man using a pick, only the noise is rather different."
He knelt down and placed his ear against the ground. A wasp, busy amongst the gorse, promptly buzzed so close that he jumped hastily to his feet.
"Bothered if I can understand it," he said to himself. "I'll mention it to Atherton when he comes back. The Island seems chock full of mysterious noises. But, there, I shan't get any rabbits if I fool about here, so here goes."
On and on he went till he neared the cliff on the eastern side of the Island, but without the chance of a shot.
"The rabbits are not out to-day, that's evident," he muttered. "Perhaps they will be more in evidence this afternoon. I'll get back to the camp, for the longer I stay the more the other fellows will expect me to bring back."
With his gun under his arm, Phillips set off at a steady pace, following almost the same route that he had taken on his outward journey.