I was wrong, for when I awoke they were not visible; nor, as far as our telescope could enable us to distinguish objects, was a black to be seen. We had several birds remaining, and we cooked them; still fully expecting that Pullingo and his son would return for breakfast. We ate our portion, keeping the remainder for them; but after waiting for some time, they did not make their appearance.
“It would be useless to lose more time,” observed Mudge at length. “It is very evident that Pullingo and Quaquagmagu have taken French leave, and gone off with their companions. The chances are that we shall see no more of them. If the old fellow changes his mind, which perhaps he may do when he recollects the pleasant roasts with which we supplied him, he can easily track us along the valley.”
“I can scarcely fancy that he would have gone off without wishing us good-bye,” I observed. “We’ll give him another chance: I’ll fire off my gun, which I suppose he will understand as a signal that we are on the march.”
“Don’t throw away a shot for so uncertain an object,” answered Mudge. “Let us look out for the birds; we may as well carry as much food as we can into the mountains, in case we should find none there.”
I followed Mudge’s advice; and looking about, soon caught sight of a magnificent cockatoo, at which I let fly and brought it to the ground, the echoes of the report reverberating down the valley. “If our black friend is in the neighbourhood he must have heard that shot,” I observed. Returning with my prize, we packed up our traps, stuffing the roast pigeons into our kettle, which Mudge carried, while I hung the unplucked bird outside my pack.
“Forward!” cried Mudge, and we turned our faces up the mountain.
We soon got into a region very different from any we had as yet met with. Wild, rugged, and barren rocks rose around us, and a stunted vegetation alone appeared in the gorges along which we made our way. Still we pushed on, steering by our compass, which told us that we were keeping a pretty direct course to the southward. Fortunate it was that we had brought food with us, for not a bird appeared, nor did we see an animal at which we could get a shot. We, of course, carefully noted the way, not only that we might know it again, but to judge whether it could be easily traversed by animals. As yet we agreed that a sure-footed horse could easily get along, rugged as the way was, and steep in some places. At length we came to the steep side of a mountain, over which we ourselves, laden as we were, might be able to make our way, though it was very certain that no horse could either ascend or descend it with safety. I proposed, notwithstanding, that we should climb it.
“We’ll not do that if it can be avoided,” answered Mudge. “It may take us less time to get over it, but it will be more advantageous to our friends if we can make our way either to the right or left.”
We looked about and soon found a route to the right, which appeared practicable, as far as we could see; but where it would lead us to, we could not tell.
“There’s nothing like trying,” observed Mudge; “and a perpendicular precipice alone should stop us.”