This time, at all events, he was clearly not deceiving us, so we promptly pulled the boat about, and were soon in the comparatively smooth water of the reef. One thing we now knew pretty well—the dwarf was armed, for it must have been he who fired the muskets, and, not doubting but that his optics were far more accustomed to the darkness than ours, we thought it extremely probable that he might amuse himself by plumping a shot or two into the boat. This was not a comfortable idea to cherish, so I hailed at random—
‘Pilot! pilot—ahoy!’ no answer. We repeated the summons a dozen of times, but heard no sound save the heavy beat of the surf and the wild cry of sea-birds.
‘Why, the scoundrel has gone home to bed,’ quoth I; ‘and, to tell you the truth, comrades, I think we may give up playing at blind man’s buff for the night, and wait peaceably until we see the schooner in the morning.’
This counsel was followed. We presently found a sandy cove, in which we lay very snugly, and then, after setting a watch, dropped off to sleep, weary, hungry, thirsty, and vexed.
The day dawned, and we speedily discovered the schooner, about as far off as she was when we lost sight of her after sundown, the evening before. A pull of an hour brought us alongside, upon which there was a great outcry to know whether we had caught the pilot, and why we had not returned betimes.
‘Why,’ quoth I, ‘we could not see you in the dark.’
‘There was a light all night at the main-topmast-head,’ says Captain Jem.
‘Yes, but we lost sight of it once, and then we could not tell your lantern from a star. Why did you not fire?’
‘We were clearing away the bow gun,’ answered Captain Jem, ‘when we heard you fire a musket.’
‘We fire! that was the dwarf. We had no musket.’