"But there may be something wrong with the island?"
"Possibly--from a native's point of view."
"But--you are almost certain to meet that tiger again."
"All the more reason for getting to work at once." He arose in his quick, active manner, and once more surveyed their camp.
"A few rocks piled in your doorway," he continued, "and your cave will meet your requirements admirably. I should say mine would better be this small retreat, the roof of which I can readily restore. It is close enough to be neighborly, and is nearer the head of the trail."
The smaller cave thus indicated occupied a position suggestive of a sentry's box, before precincts to be guarded. Its opening faced the gateway of the trail, while its size was sufficient for the needs of any primitive man.
Elaine, who had mechanically followed Grenville from the shelter, looked resignedly about. She had failed till now to think, concretely, of actually remaining, perhaps night after night, in such a place.
"It was terrible!" she said, "--the accident--everything!--terrible!" She suddenly thought of the threat he had made--to compel her to love him as he loved her, before they should reach their home--and shivered anew at the unforeseen predicament in which she was plunged, and hated him more than before.
"Bad business," he answered, briefly, "but at present the task before us is to cut a lot of grass and strew it about on the rocks to dry."
He opened the stubby blade of his knife, glanced at it ruefully, and, selecting a bit of stone, began to whet its edge. But he halted the action abruptly.
A low, weird sound, like a human wail, came from somewhere over behind them.
The sound had no sooner died on the air than a second, far louder, and far more uncanny in its suggestiveness of someone in mortal pain, followed piercingly, up around the rock, and rang in their startled ears.
The third sound more resembled a scream. It was immediately succeeded by a chorus of hideous cries and moans, singularly distressing. They rose to a pitch incredible; they seemed to involve every accent of human grief and torture, and to wrap the rock escarpment completely in an agonizing appeal.
This chorus sank, but a haunting solo of wailing arose as before, to be followed again by the air-splitting scream, and at length once more by the mingling of many dreadful voices.