“We’ll slip around at night and have a look at them.”
“Then we’ll know better what we’re up against. That’s a good idea,” Stew agreed. “But when it comes to seeing that screamer, I’m in favor of having a long-distance look in the daytime. If it’s a plane, and they’re Japs or Germans, we’ve got to see what can be done about it.”
“We’ll wander up along this side of the ridge after a while,” Jack replied. “That plane, or whatever it is, must be on this side. I think the native village is on the other side. We’ll try to dodge the natives for the present.”
Eager to explore the island and solve its mysteries, they were soon working their way along the sloping side of the ridge. Almost at once they came upon a hard-beaten trail that ran along the smoothest portion of the slope.
“Native trail,” was Jack’s verdict.
“That doesn’t sound too good to me,” said Stew. “We may meet some of those big boys with long spears. They have a playful way of fastening flying squirrels’ teeth to the point of a spear, for barbs. If you do get the spear out, the teeth stay in.”
“Look!” Jack stopped suddenly to examine a soft spot in the trail.
“Hoof prints!” Stew exclaimed. “But shucks! They’re small. Those animals can’t be very dangerous!”
“Can’t they?” Jack laughed. “Little wild boars with long noses and curved ivory tusks. Let me tell you, a palm tree makes pretty tough climbing, but if you ever hear one of those little porkers grunting behind you, you’ll climb one easy enough. We don’t dare fire a shot.”
In the end, their fears proved groundless. They walked the length of the slope, some three miles, and came at last to a place where the island sloped away in a series of treeless ledges.