After a while the second kettle of stew was pronounced ready. It was laughable to see how those four crowded around to protect it against an invading force; and what suspicious looks they cast upward at the brow of the innocent little bluff.
But there was no further manifestation of the Presence near them. Jerry kept an eye on the coffee-pot, and was ready with a keen-edged knife to immediately proceed against any dangling cord and hook that might come in sight.
They enjoyed the supper in spite of the uncanny feeling that this unprovoked and early attack had produced.
“Who was it predicted that the odors of our cooking would stir up the old hermit, and awaken his appetite for the things of the civilized world? Frank, it was you. And sure enough that’s what came to pass. He’s got tired of feeding on roots and birds’ eggs and fish,” remarked Will, feeling better after he had quieted the gnawings of his appetite.
“Provided that it was the so-called wild man,” said Frank, quietly.
At which remark there was a chorus of cries.
“It certainly must have been a human being and not an animal. Even an educated ape or chimpanzee could never have had that cord and hook and managed it as this chap did. What do you mean by doubting it, Frank?” demanded Bluff.
“Yes, tell us what you’ve been thinking?” asked Will.
“Say, that gives me an idea. I wager I can guess what he’s got in mind,” ventured Jerry, looking exceedingly wise.
“Well, go on then,” from Frank.