CHAPTER IX
THE LEOPARDS’ DEN
While Blake made a successful trip for the abandoned cocoanuts, his companions levelled the stones beneath the ledges chosen by Winthrope, and gathered enough dried sea-weed along the talus to soften the hard beds.
Soothed by the monotonous wash of the sea among the rocks, even Miss Leslie slept well. Blake, who had insisted that she should retain his coat, was wakened by the chilliness preceding the dawn. Five minutes later they started on their journey.
The starlight glimmered on the waves and shed a faint radiance over the rocks. This and their knowledge of the way enabled them to pick a path along the foot of the cliff without difficulty. Once on the beach, they swung along at a smart gait, invigorated by the cool air.
Dawn found them half way to their goal. Blake called a halt when the first red streaks shot up the eastern sky. All stood waiting until the quickly following sun sprang forth from the sea. Blake’s first act was to glance from one headland to the other, estimating their relative distances. His grunt of satisfaction was lost in Winthrope’s exclamation, “By Jove, look at the cattle!”
Blake and Miss Leslie turned to stare at the droves of animals moving about between them and the border of the tall grass. Miss Leslie was the first to speak. “They can’t be cattle, Mr. Winthrope. There are some with stripes. I do believe they’re zebras!”
“Get down!” commanded Blake. “They’re all wild game. Those big ox-like fellows to the left of the zebras are eland. Whee! wouldn’t we be in it if we owned that water hole? I’ll bet I’d have one of those fat beeves inside three days.”
“How I should enjoy a juicy steak!” murmured Miss Leslie.
“Raw or jerked?” questioned Blake.
“What is ‘jerked’?”