CHAPTER SIXTY ONE.
MAIL-CARRIERS ON WINGS.
It was only after they had gone back for their baskets of beans, and once more returned to the hut, that Caspar and Ossaroo found time to indulge in their conjectures.

Then both of them set to work in earnest--seated upon the great stones outside the door, where often before they had conjured up schemes for their deliverance.

Neither communicated his thoughts to the other; each silently followed the thread of his own reflections--as if there was a rivalry between them, as to who should be the first to proclaim the design already conceived by Karl.
Karl was standing close by, apparently as reflective as either of his companions.

But his thoughts were only occupied in bringing to perfection the plan, which to them was still undiscovered.
The storks had been brought out of the hut, and tied to a heavy log that lay near.

This had been done, partly to accustom them to the sight of the place, and partly that they might be once more fed--the single fish they had swallowed between them not being deemed sufficient to satisfy their hunger.
Caspar's eyes wandered to that one that had the ring upon its leg; and then to the ring itself--_R.B.G., Calcutta_.
The inscription at length proved suggestive to Caspar, as the ring itself, on first seeing it, had to his brother.