We floundered after him as fast as we could.  When I say we, I mean Bumpo and myself; for the animals, Jip, Chee-Chee and Polynesia, were a long way ahead—­even beyond the Doctor—­enjoying the hunt like a paper-chase.

At length we arrived at the foot of the mountain we were making for; and we found its sides very steep.  Said the Doctor,

“Now we will separate and search for caves.  This spot where we now are, will be our meeting-place.  If anyone finds anything like a cave or a hole where the earth and rocks have fallen in, he must shout and hulloa to the rest of us.  If we find nothing we will all gather here in about an hour’s time—­Everybody understand?”

Then we all went off our different ways.

Each of us, you may be sure, was anxious to be the one to make a discovery.  And never was a mountain searched so thoroughly.  But alas! nothing could we find that looked in the least like a fallen-in cave.  There were plenty of places where rocks had tumbled down to the foot of the slopes; but none of these appeared as though caves or passages could possibly lie behind them.

One by one, tired and disappointed, we straggled back to the meeting-place.  The Doctor seemed gloomy and impatient but by no means inclined to give up.

“Jip,” he said, “couldn’t you smell anything like an Indian anywhere?”

“No,” said Jip.  “I sniffed at every crack on the mountainside.  But I am afraid my nose will be of no use to you here, Doctor.  The trouble is, the whole air is so saturated with the smell of spider-monkeys that it drowns every other scent—­And besides, it’s too cold and dry for good smelling.”

“It is certainly that,” said the Doctor—­“and getting colder all the time.  I’m afraid the island is still drifting to the southward.  Let’s hope it stops before long, or we won’t be able to get even nuts and fruit to eat—­ everything in the island will perish—­Chee-Chee, what luck did you have?”

“None, Doctor.  I climbed to every peak and pinnacle I could see.  I searched every hollow and cleft.  But not one place could I find where men might be hidden.”

“And Polynesia,” asked the Doctor, “did you see nothing that might put us on the right track?”

“Not a thing, Doctor—­But I have a plan.”

“Oh good!” cried John Dolittle, full of hope renewed.  “What is it?  Let’s hear it.”

“You still have that beetle with you,” she asked—­“the Biz-biz, or whatever it is you call the wretched insect?”

“Yes,” said the Doctor, producing the glass-topped box from his pocket, “here it is.”

“All right.  Now listen,” said she.  “If what you have supposed is true—­that is, that Long Arrow had been trapped inside the mountain by falling rock, he probably found that beetle inside the cave—­perhaps many other different beetles too, eh?  He wouldn’t have been likely to take the Biz-biz in with him, would he?—­He was hunting plants, you say, not beetles.  Isn’t that right?”