However, by travelling first in one direction and then in the other, I at last came upon the little gulley which I had before descended, and getting down was able to proceed with greater speed along the more familiar route. It was midnight when I at last reached the house and roused Mr. Millward and Alice to relate to them what I had seen.
As we were safe for that night at least, I proposed that we should go to bed again and get our rest, and discuss our situation in the morning.
CHAPTER XX.
THE CAPTAIN OF THE GANG.
THOUGH considerably exhausted by my toilsome tramp and the excitement of the reconnoissance, I got very little sleep after I retired to my hammock that night. Not until near dawn did unconsciousness come; and as is usually the case under such circumstances, though my mind during these hours of sleeplessness dwelt continually on the danger that threatened not only our plans but ourselves as well, nothing came of the thought except added apprehension. There is scarcely ever any good result from what may be best termed “worry.” The mind, like the body, refuses to act when deprived of its usual rest. One may indeed fancy he is thinking most deeply, during the still hours of the night when he should be sleeping, but in truth such thought is rarely genuine; it is only puerile worry, totally lacking in virility and potency to solve real difficulties. The fatigued brain like a coward magnifies all obstacles, and at the same time overlooks their solution, and ignores the hopes that rise to illumine the fresh intelligence of the rested thinker.
The consequence was I did not waken in the morning until called to breakfast by Alice Millward well on toward eight o’clock.
The gale had sunk to a gentle breeze from the same quarter. The bright blue sky was flecked here and there with high clouds, soft and fleecy white, their shadows a mellow, purple gray. It was a fresh, bright, beautiful morning, such as breathes hope and confidence in the apprehensive mind. I immediately began to discount the probabilities of impending disaster that had oppressed me, and our talk at the breakfast table was all in a hopeful strain. What right had we to suppose the pearl-fishing gang would discover us? It was not probable they would stay long,—a month or two at farthest,—and there was no telling how long they had already been here. They would be busy at their work on the other side of the island, with nothing to cause them to wander about except the pig-hunting, when they wanted fresh pork. If they should chance to descend from the central cliffs, they could not see our habitation or boats, unless they should happen to come around the island to the beach above or below us.
It behooved us therefore to lie close for the present, and the chances seemed to favor our escaping notice. By carefully guarding against raising a smoke during the day with our fires, we should greatly diminish the chances of being discovered, and at night we would keep no fire. We could lower the masts of the boats, and by mooring them a little farther up they would be partly hidden by the willows. So, too, as to the galleon; unless one actually climbed upon the rocks and looked down into the basin, there was nothing in the external appearance of the place from sea or shore to denote its existence. The vines I had planted now grew most luxuriantly over the shed and the house, so that a casual observer from a distance might well fail to distinguish human habitations. There was, however, the naked palm tree with its cross-piece which I had rigged long ago as a distress signal, standing most conspicuously. This must come down at once; it would be plainly visible at a great distance up and down the beach, and from the sea. A few blows of the axe would soon remedy that. Thus we discussed the situation; and although bad enough in all conscience to cause us much mental disturbance, it did not seem without hope.
After arranging our belongings so that they would attract as little attention as possible, we sat quietly down to await events. We read aloud by turns from Charles Dickens’s beautiful story “Our Mutual Friend;” Mr. Millward revived his early experiences; we improvised a checker-board and finally a set of chess-men, and Mr. Millward and I pondered long over intricate situations arising from Evans gambit. Nevertheless the time hung heavy on our hands, owing to the shadow of anxiety that was over us. Mention was seldom made of the pearl-fishers, but they were always more or less in mind. Thus passed three days, during which we heard nothing from the other party on the island.
On the morning of the fourth day, two hours before dawn, I departed for a second reconnoissance, intending to conceal myself in some place where I could remain during a portion of the daylight for the purpose of getting a better knowledge of our neighbors and their doings. By starlight I readily made my way to the cliffs about Farm Cove, and there, just as the dawn was breaking, concealed myself in a bed of fern growing among the rocks. From the lay of the land I judged there would be no difficulty in seeing the camp from where I was hidden, and such proved to be the case. By the aid of a glass belonging to Mr. Millward I could bring the camp up to an apparent distance not exceeding two rods.
The whole party was asleep, so far as I could judge, when I first observed them. About an hour after sunrise the Chinaman rose up from his blanket, and after yawning and stretching himself in sleepy fashion proceeded to build a fire and cook a breakfast for the party. This was soon done, and then he went from one to the other of the sleepers and roused them. The breakfast for the white man was carried into the tent.