Jerry was as quick as lightning with his gun. He whirled around and let go almost before any of the others had discovered what object it was he had dodged.
“Talk to me about that, will you,” exclaimed the marksman, as the riddled “varmint” tried to leap again, and fell back to breathe its last; “where was Frank all the while—what did he fire at, tell me?”
“This,” remarked the other, quietly, stepping forward and picking up a monster of a bobcat that had lain, unnoticed by Jerry, amid the leaves still covering the ground from the previous Fall.
“Two of the critters! What do you know about that—a pair the very first night! Well, I reckon this old island was well named, after all. No wonder the boys never wanted to land here, even in the daytime. But I’d rather it was cats than wild men, or thieving hoboes.”
After a search had failed to reveal any more of the “pestiferous cats,” as Jerry delighted in calling them, the three boys crawled back under their blankets again, for the night air felt chilly, after being snuggled down so warmly.
No more alarms came that night, and later on the sky cleared, allowing the moon full sway.
As daylight advanced long before Jerry’s watch was over, it became a part of his duty to resuscitate the fire, and begin to get ready for breakfast.
They had laid out numerous things to be done on this day. First of all it was decided that two of them must hunt in company; and even those left in camp were not to separate more than they could help. Of course it might be necessary for one of the stay-at-homes to launch a canoe and try the fishing, if they expected to extend the variety of food in the larder; but there must be no solitary wandering about the strange island.
Frank and Jerry were chosen to make an exploration that day. They could start in and easily go around the island, exploring every part of it, and learning considerable about its secrets.
If the tramps were really hiding here, possibly some evidence of their presence would be found, the embers of a fire it might be.