ad anticipated, and he went on,
step by step, learning how it was that the Indians tracked their prey.
Every now and then he was at fault, but on these occasions some other
eye detected the trampled ferns, a broken twig, or a cane dragged out of
place, and the result was that in a couple of hours the opening was
reached where the rocky scarp rose up high toward the mountain, and the
mouth of the cave yawned open before them.

Here there was a pause. What to do next?

"It's awkward," said the major, "supposing our friend's at home. I
don't want to go first, and I'm sure I don't want you to go, Strong."

"Shall we send Billy Widgeon in first, sir?" said Small. "He's a little
un, and knows his way. Here, Billy, where are you?"

An inarticulate noise above their heads made them turn, to find that
Billy had rapidly climbed a tree.

"Well, of all the cowards! Here, you come down," cried Small.

He pointed his gun at the little sailor, and vowed so heartily that he
would fire at his legs if he did not descend, that Billy swung himself
reluctantly on to a thin elastic branch, and let himself swing lower
till he could touch the ground.

"I think the best way will be to get a fire, and as soon as the brands
are well alight one of the men must go underneath and throw them in,
while we stand ready with our guns."

The plan was carried out; and eager now to show that he was not so great
a coward as the boatswain had suggested, Billy volunteered to throw in
the burning wood.

All was ready. The captain, major, Mark, and Small, with loaded pieces,
and the latter with instructions to fire calmly and with good aim, and
Billy with the burning wood, which was of a resinous nature, and burned
fiercely.

"Now, my lad," said the captain after a glance round, and finally fixing
his eyes on the mouth of the cavern, which looked black and grim, "when
I say `Ready!' get well under the cave mouth, climb up a little way, and
hurl in the burning wood as far as you can."

"But suppose he comes out, sir?"

"If he does, you will be out of sight, and the beast will come right at
us."

"You won't shoot me, gentlemen?"

"No, man, of course not."

"Nor you, Mr Small," pleaded Billy.

"Lookye here, Billy Widgeon," growled the boatswain, "if you don't do
your dooty like a man, and chuck them there blazing sticks right into
the back o' that there hole, I'm blest if I don't."

Billy Widgeon said never a word, but got his wood well