"I wonder who," echoed Marian.
They took a turn about it. All the windows had been boarded up with rough lumber. There were two doors. These were fastened with padlock and chain. An examination of the locks showed that keys had not been used in them for months.
Lucile's eyes were caught by poles and some platforms to the right, along the rocky shore. She walked in that direction.
"Marian, come here!" she cried presently. Marian came running. "Look!
Here's a whole native village! They've built their homes out of rocks.
See! It's like tunneling into the side of the mountain. Must be homes
for a hundred people!"
"And not a soul here! How strange!"
"Not even a dog!" Lucile's own voice sounded strangely hollow to her, as if echoed by the walls of a tomb.
CHAPTER XV
TWO RED RIDING HOODS
Before Phi struck out for the unknown land which had so suddenly thrust itself into his line of vision, he paused to ask himself the question whether he had come upon some island or a point on the mainland. Finding himself unable to answer the question, he at once set plans for reaching that land.
The rifle, now a useless incumbrance, he left leaning against an up-ended cake of ice. That shore, if not lifted high by a mirage, was at least ten miles away. And ten miles to a boy and dog who have appeased their hunger for three days with two small birds, is no mean distance.