Climbing is hard work for a fat man, and the gamekeeper found
himself covered with pitch before he had gone more than halfway
up, but he puffed on in spite of difficulties and at last reached
a point from which he could look directly across the surface of
the rock, but from which the cave was entirely hidden behind a
projection in the wall of the cliff.
Angus saw what he supposed to be the whole shelf of the rock, and
he saw that there was no one there. He could see the fire and the
frying-pan, the egg shells lying about, and even the portion of
bacon that Jean had not cooked. They were all in full view, but
apparently the poachers had gone away into the woods, leaving
their airy camp deserted. There was no one there; of that he
felt, certain.
"I'll just give'em a surprise," thought the gamekeeper to
himself. "If they found a way up, I can, too. I'll help myself to
a snack of that bacon, and if they come back and find me--well, I
have my gun with me and I don't like being interrupted at my
meals."
He backed down the tree like a fat cat, and made a desperate
search for the path, and this time he actually succeeded in
finding it. He chuckled to himself as he plunged into the passage
and began to climb.
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