Most of the crew wanted to paddle ashore immediately, but Barry restrained them. Unless the Jap beach patrols had received orders to leave their posts, they would still be there. No single bombing raid, however terrible, could demoralize those tough, stupid little beasts. Their meager mental life was shaped and ruled by discipline. Only their higher officers were trained to think their way out of a difficulty.
The night came swiftly, with no clouds to reflect the sun’s afterglow. This night there would be a brief interval between sunset and moonrise—just enough to let the catamaran paddle ashore unseen. The strong arms of Barry and his teammates made the most of it. Just as the moon’s silver rim peeped over the eastern horizon, they grounded their craft at the jungle’s edge, in the shelter of a little sandspit.
Since the tide was high, and already beginning to ebb, there was no need to tie the catamaran. Pulling it just out of reach of the waves, the whole party left it, and followed Barry into the bush.
“Dora,” the young skipper said, low-voiced, “you and your people will stay here, within sight of Nanu and the catamaran. You can stretch your legs, but don’t move about too much or make a noise. I’ll leave Mickey Rourke on guard with his tommy-gun. He’ll watch for Japs and keep an eye on Crayle. The rest of the boys will go with me to look for a mast. If we should run into trouble we have our pistols.”
“I’d rather we all went with you, Barry,” the girl responded. “We could carry Nanu into the bush where he wouldn’t be found. Where there’s danger, we shouldn’t be separated.”
“If we were all fighting men, I’d agree with you, Dora,” he said. “As it is, you have no right to risk the lives of your people in order to stand by me and my crew. If a Jap patrol spots the catamaran while we’re gone, your job, and Mickey Rourke’s, is to fight clear of the beach and push out to sea. Never mind the rest of us. Naturally I hope neither you nor we are going to be discovered; but if we should be—well, so long and take care of yourself!”
He turned away quickly, beckoning his team after him, and headed up the beach. By keeping to the shadows at the jungle’s edge, they remained under cover and at the same time had light enough to see where they were going. Each man scanned the jungle growth nearest him for any slim, straight young tree that might serve to support the catamaran’s sail. Bamboo, of course, would be the best, but that could only be found in the interior.
They had gone no more than five hundred yards when Barry halted, with a sharp hiss of warning.
“I heard voices,” he whispered, “ahead of us and to the left.... There! Did you hear that, Chick?”
“Jap talk!” muttered the little bombardier. “Look! Isn’t that the mouth of a creek just beyond us? I think that’s where they are.”