They had hardly taken their positions, when the faint sound of oars came to their ears and a couple of minutes later a good-sized batteau came into sight through the darkness. It was rowed by six men while a half dozen more were seated at the bow and in the stern.
The batteau had no sooner touched the shore than those in the bow sprang out and pulled the boat partially onto the gravelly beach. The others followed more slowly, but after a minute or more all were landed. Not a word was spoken for some minutes, and several of the men spread themselves out into a scouting party. One of them passed so close to the place where Billie was concealed that he could have touched him with his hand; but it never seemed to occur to the Mexicans that anyone might be hidden on the beach.
Those who were not on the lookout, pushed the boat back into the water and turned it so they could pull out immediately it had received its load. Then for the first time a spoken order was given in a low voice—a voice which sounded strangely familiar to Billie, although he could not think where he had heard it.
“All ready!” it said, “and hurry up! Juan and I will be sufficient to guard the boat!”
“So ho!” exclaimed Billie to himself! “It appears we are to have two to deal with,” and as he saw the figures steal away in the darkness he slipped
silently nearer to the boat to see how the guard was placed.
A glance was sufficient to show him that one man sat in the boat with oars in his hands, while the speaker stood on the shore. He had not yet decided what to do, when he noticed that the boat was silently and slowly drawing away from land. The shore guard must have noticed it at the same time, for he said in a sharp whisper to the oarsman:
“You’re drifting out! Hold your boat to the shore!”
The oarsman gave a couple of strokes with his oars, but without any apparent result! The boat continued to draw away.
“The current must be very swift!” he muttered.