So the young diver went ashore with the men, and while the sailors filled their water casks, Dave and a young engineer of the ship, named Bob Vilett, went off on a hunt, taking with them a shotgun and a rifle. They had heard that numerous wild goats lived upon the island of San Murio, and thought to bag several of these by way of diversion. "And who knows but what we'll bring down something larger, too!" said Bob Vilett, who was in his way quite a sportsman. The _Swallow_ was to remain at her anchorage until the next morning, so the pair had the whole day before them. Dave carried a pouch full of food, and Bob a good-sized water bottle, so that they were well provided, even if they did not bring down anything worth eating. "Take good care of yourselves," said Captain Broadbeam, on parting with them. "Don't run into danger." "We'll be careful," answered Dave, and off the pair set, never dreaming of the strange adventure and the grave peril in store for them. CHAPTER VIII A DISASTROUS HUNT The island of San Murio is not over six miles wide by twenty miles long. It is composed of two lines of hills, with a deep valley between. The hills are rocky and much broken, and there are numerous waterfalls and tiny brooks, as well as cliffs and caverns. The growth of trees and underwood is dense, and Dave and his friend had frequently all they could do to push their way along. Both were in fine spirits, and Bob was inclined to burst into song, only Dave silenced him. "If you sing you'll surely scare all the game away," he said. "A wild goat will hear your voice half a mile off." "Right you are, Dave," returned Bob. "However, I can't repress my spirits when I'm ashore. It's so much better than being down in the hot and stuffy engine room of a steamship," and Bob threw down his rifle and made a handspring or two, after which he resumed his walk, feeling better. A half-hour's journey brought them close to the top of the first series of hills, at a point opposite a small inland lake. "Go slow now," whispered Bob. "There may be goats beyond." They peered over the top of the hill with care, and sure enough, down at the lake shore they made out two large goats and two kids, all drinking. "Take the one to the right, and I'll take the one to the left!" said Bob, in a low voice. "Ready? Then fire!" Crack! bang! went the rifle and the shotgun, and both of the large goats were seen to leap up and back as though struck. But neither was fatally wounded, and both started to run slowly around the lake shore, to the line of hills on the opposite side, with the kids following. "Come, we had better go after 'em!" ejaculated Bob, and led the way, and Dave followed, both reloading as they ran. It was no easy task to reach the lake front, and by that time the goats were rushing up the hills opposite.