We may well imagine the feelings of the boys as they went on their mission. Here was mute evidence that others of the ill-fated ship had met disaster. They had often speculated on the fate of their companions. How many had been left to tell the tale!
The yaks were yoked, and taking with them a rude box, which had been put together, as the Professor suggested, they shortly returned.
"Have you found anything new?" was George's first question.
"The poor fellow was undoubtedly killed when he landed, and I think he was a sailor."
"Have you found anything which makes you think so?"
"Nothing but what you see before you. That break in the skull was, in my opinion, made by contact with a rock; furthermore, several of the bones were broken, as you see, at the time he met with his calamity; and one of the legs shows where it was broken before his death, and had mended."
It was a remarkable funeral cortege which wended its way slowly back over the hills to their home. They felt it was paying a tribute to a friend and companion. All doubts on their part had been dispelled. He had been one of their companions on that terrible night when the explosion had sent their ship to the bottom, and had cast them adrift on a sea which welcomed them in raging fury.
"What shall we do with the skeleton?"
The Professor was silent a long time before he answered. "I do not know what to advise. Perhaps, in the future fate may be kind enough to restore us to our homes and friends, and if it should be that we are the only ones so rescued, the skeleton would be a positive means of enabling us to ascertain whether or not he was one of our companions, and also to advise his friends."
A stone sarcophagus was built, in which the remains were deposited after a funeral service at which the Professor presided.