“Hi there, young feller, what are you trying to do?” cried David. “I didn’t tell you you could go ashore.”
Again Ben paid no attention to the other’s words. He was looking about him as if he was very much interested in the place where he had landed.
David, making sure the Argo was safely aground, clambered over the side. “Was it your intention, Mr. Sully, to scuttle our good ship here?” he inquired with mock politeness.
“Look,” said Ben, in a deep and earnest tone.
David looked. In the marshy ground a little in front of them were two distinct footprints, uncommonly large footprints, with very wide toes and very deep heels.
“My word!” whistled David. “Benjie, we’ve come to the lair of the mastodon!”
“Footprints!” murmured Ben, regarding the marks with the same awed surprise with which Robinson Crusoe first gazed at the prints in the sand of his island.
Distinct Footprints
“A giant’s footprints,” said David.