As there was nothing else to see on Serendib they worked a way between the blue gums back to the raft, and re-embarked for New Formosa. Just before they landed Pan dashed into the water from Serendib and swam to them. He did not seem quite himself, he looked as if he had done something out of the common and could not tell them. “Was it a crocodile?” said Mark, stroking him. Pan whined, as much as to say, “I wish I could tell you,” and then to give vent to his excitement he rushed into the wood. Volume Three, Chapter III. NEW FORMOSA--NO HOPE OF RETURNING. After fastening the raft they returned towards the hut, for they were hungry now, and knew it was late, when Pan set up such a tremendous barking that they first listened, and then went to see. The noise led them to the green knoll where the rabbit burries were, and they saw Pan running round under the great oak thickly grown with ivy, in which Bevis had seen the wood-pigeons alight. They went to the oak, it was very large and old, the branches partly dead and hung with ivy; they walked round and examined the ground, but could see no trace of anything. Mark hurled a fragment of a dead bough up into the ivy, it broke and came rustling down again, but nothing flew out. There did not seem to be anything in the tree. “The squirrels,” said Bevis, suddenly remembering. “Why, of course,” said Mark. “How stupid of us--Pan, you’re a donk.” They left the oak and again went homewards: now Pan had been quite quiet while they were looking on the ground and up into the tree, but directly he understood that they had given up the search he set up barking again and would not follow. At the hut Bevis went in to cut some rashers from the bacon which had not been cooked and Mark ran up on the cliff to see the time. It was already two o’clock--the work on the raft and the voyage to Serendib had taken up the morning. Bevis showed Mark where some mice had gnawed the edge of the uncooked bacon which had been lying in the store-room on the top of a number of thing’s. Mark said once he found a tomtit on the shelf pecking at the food they had left there, just like a tomtit’s impudence! “Rashers are very good,” said Bevis, “if you haven’t got to cook them.” It was his turn, and he was broiling himself as well as the bacon. “Macaroni eats his raw,” said Mark. They had often seen John Young eating thick slices of raw bacon in the shed as he sat at luncheon. “Horrible cannibal--he’s worse than Pan, who won’t touch it cooked.” He looked outside the gate--there was the slice of the cooked bacon Bevis had cut for the spaniel lying on the ground. Pan had not even taken the trouble to put it in his larder. But something else had gnawed at it. “A rat’s been here,” said Mark. “Don’t you remember the jack’s head?” “And mice in the cave,” said Bevis. “And a tomtit on the shelf.” “And a robin on the table.” “And a wagtail was in the court yesterday.” “A wren comes on the stockade.”