Tyler glanced at the spot, and at once grasped the fact that Hanns Schlott had rested himself upon the root of a tree. But he could not tell that which was clear to the native.
"Him have gun," said the latter positively. "Him sit and point into tree. Then him let gun drop beside him. There are the marks."
As if he had actually witnessed the act, the man pointed to some scratches upon the bark where the lock of the gun must have struck. Then he led Tyler a few paces ahead, drawing his attention to the trail as he did so.
"Him silly," he said with a disdainful smile for the memory of his old leader. "Ever since he take the boat from the Englishman and kill the owner, him so silly. Him frightened at him own shadow. See here. He start and turn round at every step. Him stop and raise the rifle. Him fire. Look!"
The eagle glance of this pirate allowed nothing to escape him, and as he spoke he drew Tyler's attention to various spots. Before them ran the trail, still freshly shown by the trampled grass and reed. And as the tracker had said, it came to a stop here and there, while a small patch was more trodden than the other. Here it was that Hanns Schlott, the cowardly Dutchman, and the villain who had murdered Mr. Beverley, had halted to stare about him. His conscience perhaps disturbed him. Or he imagined that he heard a sound, or saw a figure. Fear of capture and of death unnerved him, and, giving credence to his imagination, he peered amidst the jungle, and then fired his piece at some shadow. Yes, that was what had happened, for Tyler could see with his own eyes the huge patch where the shot had struck a tree close at hand and ripped the bark from it.
"We shall have to be careful," he said, "or this fellow will be shooting us as we come up with him. He is a desperate man, and will stop at nothing."
"Looks as if he was daft," burst in John Marshall. "Seems to me as if the trouble had turned his head. But the fellow's beckoning, sir. He wants us to go ahead."
"He not far away. Soon find the Dutchman," said the Malay, dragging his kriss from his pocket. "Shall he be killed, or taken a prisoner?"
"The last," was Tyler's answer, "for he has a crime to answer for. Come, push ahead and let us capture him."