Abington stared down the wash, for a moment tempted to follow the tracks. But with night coming on and an empty stomach clamoring to be filled, he hesitated. There was the wrecked camp to set to rights and such supplies as had not been destroyed must be gathered together and placed where this malicious-minded animal could not reach them again. Moreover, the tracks might not be fresh, for the damage could have been done at any time during the afternoon while he and Bill were exploring a complex assortment of crooked ravines, tangled at the head of the larger one where Bill had prepared to hole up in gloomy security. Abington was thoughtfully regarding a sack of flour that had been slashed lengthwise and dragged in wanton destructiveness half across the ledge, when Bill Jonathan’s voice sounded behind him, swearing a dismayed oath. “Looks like it’s been here a’ready!” Bill gasped, when Abington turned and glanced at him. “Looks as though something has been here,” Abington agreed. “Very unusual incident, in some of the details. Certain incongruities can scarcely be accounted for until I have further investigated the matter. I have had a herd of wild elephants stampede through camp, and I know the work of every marauding animal from jungle tigers to the wolverines of Canada. But I have never seen anything quite like this. “For instance,” he went on, “the slits in that tent plainly started from the peak and extended downward, with an upward thrust near the bottom, leaving a triangular rent. Any horned animal that could rip a tent like that invariably lowers the head and gores with an upward toss. So does a hog. Certain indications would seem to point to a wild hog--or a drove of them!--but I believe the longest slits in the tent were accomplished while it was still standing. “You will observe,” he continued, “that the rents are spaced with a regularity impossible to attain while the material lay bundled in a heap on the ground. The cloth has not been chewed, therefore it could not be the work of wild cattle. Moreover, that sack of salt was not touched. Wouldn’t you suppose, Bill, that any herbivorous animal would smell the salt and go after it first?” “Yeah, but it don’t ever touch salt, professor. Not as far as I know. Did it leave any tracks?” “Down here in the sand are some enormous hoofprints resembling sheep or elk tracks, Bill. From its stride the beast must be as large as a camel.” “Yeah, and I’ve known it to leave mule tracks behind it!” Bill declared glumly. “Now, maybe you’ll want to crawl into my cave, professor!” “I may decide to let you store what supplies are left, but I myself don’t fancy caves except for research work. By the way, did you notice any eoliths in that cave of yours, Bill?” “I dunno. Killed a scorpion about four inches long and his tail curled up. You ain’t afraid of bugs, are you, professor?” * * * * *