“After I locate something to chew on why we’ll go and keep watch for them from the cliff, so they’ll at least know we are still alive.”
“That’s right, I didn’t think of it Unk will be relieved—but peeved at me!”
They were putting on their dried things—that is, Westy was, but Rip had only his bathing suit. Then they crawled out, viewing the desolate scene around them, for it was raining harder than they thought.
“We’ll have to look up some eats somewhere, Rip. Feel all right to mosey around with me?”
“Sure.”
“All right then. You better take my socks. I’ve more on than you.”
“Naw, I don’t feel cold yet. We’re a hot-looking team, though, to be walking around in the jungle and half undressed at that in all this rain. Let’s go!”
The quest in search of food was exceedingly arduous as they walked further and further into the thick forest. In the end, as the fruits of their labors in beating down underbrush and tall weeds, all they found was some wild berries here and there. It sufficed a little, but they hadn’t so far found a stream anywhere in which to quench their thirst.
“We’ll have to make the best of it for now, Rip. There’s no telling what time it is a day like this without the sun, so we better make the same tracks for the cliff and signal your Uncle and Billy some way. Lola’s sure to come, too.”
They started back. Rip’s bare feet were getting uncomfortably sore from the stone bruises and cuts he was continually receiving and Westy’s socks were horribly soggy and cold. He took them off and threw them away.