Not a trace of them was to be seen; so, Fritz and Eric had finally to come to the conclusion that the islanders--along with their enemy, as they now looked upon him, Nat Slater--had paid another secret visit to the plateau and destroyed the animals.

They believed the Tristaners did this with the object of expediting their departure from Inaccessible Island, where there could be no doubt they must have spoiled their sealing, thus depriving them of a valuable article of barter.
"Never mind," said Eric the indomitable, when Fritz lamented the disappearance of the goats.

"We've got the wild hogs left; and, for my part, I think roast pig better than dry potatoes!" "Himmel, the idea is good!" replied Fritz, who had already screwed on the breech of the needle-gun, making it ready for action.

"We must go pig-chasing, then." And, so they did, shooting a lusty young porker ere they had travelled many steps further.
Eric's matches were then produced, the inevitable box of safety lights being in the pocket of the sealskin jacket he had headed up in the oil cask; when, a fire being lit, the game was prepared in a very impromptu fashion, the animal being roasted whole.
On previously tasting the flesh of these island hogs, they had thought the pork rather fishy; but now, after weeks of deprivation from any species of animal food, it seemed more delicious than anything they had ever eaten before.
"Why, Eric, it beats even your roast beef!" said Fritz jokingly.
The lad looked at him reproachfully; that was all he could do, for his mouth was full and this prevented him from speaking.
"I beg your pardon," interposed the other.

"I shan't say so again; I forgot myself that time." "I should think you did," rejoined Eric, now better able to express himself.