Two days later they halted again, the site being chosen beside a little mountain rivulet.

They were now very high up in the hills, Mr.Goodenough expecting to meet with new varieties of butterflies and insects at this elevation.

They had scarcely pitched their camp when Frank exclaimed: "Surely, Mr.Goodenough, I can hear some dogs barking! I did not know that the native dogs barked." "Nor do they.

They may yelp and howl, but they never bark like European dogs.

What you hear is the bark of some sort of monkey or baboon." This opinion was at once confirmed by the Fans.
"We will sally out with our guns at once," Mr.Goodenough said.
"I don't like the thought of shooting monkeys," Frank muttered, as he took up his Winchester carbine.
"They are very excellent eating," Mr.Goodenough continued, "superior in my opinion, and, indeed, in that of most travelers, to any other meat.
We shall meet with no other kind of creature fit for food up here.