There was a frightful crash. The high boards went hurtling to splinters. The animal crowded past the wreckage as if the barrier had been made of tissue paper.
Overjoyed, but with a great deal of trepidation, Vic ran in the direction of the beaten way forming a sort of passage to the mainland, Pep accompanying him. The camel started after them, as if he, too, sought a means of leaving the island where he had been a captive.
The animal dropped the furious manner he had shown when he had made his onslaught upon the fence of the enclosure. He looked as pleasant at the boys as a camel can look. Apparently there would have been no trouble whatever, had not the old man rushed out through the hole in the fence carrying a sharp, hooked pole.
As he saw the boys he shook his fist at them, as if connecting them with the disaster of the moment. Then he ran up behind the camel and viciously buried the pointed end of the hook deep in one flank. The animal uttered a shrill cry of pain and then turned on the man and gave him a savage nip in the arm.
Surprised and alarmed, the man turned and ran away. At that same moment came other strange sounds from a sort of barn not far away.
“Look!” cried Pep.
“The other camels!” yelled Vic, joyfully.
He was right, from out of the structure three more camels had come. They now ran to join the leader, and all trotted behind Vic and Pep.
“Let us lead them to that farm!” cried Vic.
“Yes, we had better get out of here while we have time,” was the panting answer.